“Yes,” he answered Holt’s question without hesitation. “I had it put in for her. Sienna was worried about the jewels and some other valuables that had been left to her grandmothers, and I wanted her to have somewhere secure for them.”
“Which grandmothers?” June asked. “Your side or Victoria’s?”
“Both, actually,” Tom replied. “My mother left her some diamonds. My father left her a few gold and diamond money clips.” He frowned slightly. “And I believe Victoria’s mother left her a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet set. A matching heirloom piece.” He glanced between them. “There were also some bonds or something that Victoria’s father left Sienna.” He frowned. “Why? What’s this about?”
“Did you know if Victoria ever asked Sienna to keep anything in the safe for her?” Holt asked.
Tom’s brow furrowed a little deeper. “I wouldn’t know,” he admitted honestly. “Victoria and I haven’t exactly been sharing information for the past couple of years. I know Sienna had her own pieces in there. What Victoria may or may not have asked her to keep, I genuinely couldn’t tell you.”
“Did you ever see the pieces Victoria’s mother left Sienna?” June asked.
“No,” Tom said, shaking his head. “To be honest, I deliberately didn’t ask too many questions about Victoria’s family jewelry, Sienna’s, or the pieces left to Victoria. I thought if I didn’t know the details about Victoria’s jewels, I wouldn’t have to bring them up in the divorce proceedings.” He looked at June directly. “I wanted her to be able to keep her mother’s things without a fight over them.”
“That’s very generous of you,” June said warmly.
“It’s not very legally sound,” Holt pointed out, “but it tells me what I needed to know about your intentions.” He held Tom’s eyes. “Tom, did you know that Victoria’s grandfather was a cat burglar?”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then Tom Morrison spluttered, sat forward, and stared at Holt as if he’d just announced that the building was on fire.
“I beg your pardon?” Tom managed. “Where on earth did you get that from? That’s complete nonsense.”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” June told him gently.
“No.” Tom shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. I knew that man. He was decent and respectful. Considerably more so than his son, and light years ahead of his granddaughter in terms ofbasic human behavior.” His jaw tightened. “You’re telling me this because of what’s in the safe, aren’t you? What’s in it?”
“We’ll get to that,” Holt said. “Victoria’s father wrote a letter to Sienna before he died. In it, he told her that Victoria had been a cat burglar.”
Tom opened his mouth.
Then he laughed.
It was a genuine laugh, the kind that arrived before the person had decided whether it was appropriate, and Tom caught himself after a few seconds and pressed his lips together. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this isn’t a laughing matter. But Victoria stealing things?” He shook his head. “Victoria wouldn’t steal a bread roll. She barely tolerates touching objects that don’t belong to her. She’s fastidiously particular about other people’s property.”
“Victoria apparently had a juvenile record for theft,” June pointed out.
“Oh, that.” Tom waved a hand. “That was closed, and she was vindicated. Alvin Frost had given her a pair of emerald earrings that had belonged to his aunt, Lady Ellington. Lady Ellington was a frequent summer guest at the Sandpiper Grand Hotel, and she’d gone a bit...” He paused, choosing his words. “A bit forgetful in her later years. She accused Victoria of stealing them when in fact she’d gifted them to Alvin herself and simply couldn’t remember doing it.” He looked at Holt. “Once that came out, the record was closed. I can get you the file if it helps.”
“Yes, please,” Holt said. “We’d like to see it.”
He noted June writing quickly beside him and felt the familiar, grounding steadiness of having her in the room. She caught details he didn’t and asked questions from angles he hadn’t considered, and thirty-eight years of distance had done nothing to change that particular truth.
“Tom,” Holt said. “What do you know about Victoria’s association with Tony Vincent?”
Tom’s expression shifted into something more guarded. “She tolerated Tony because he was Alvin’s closest friend,” he said carefully. “She didn’t like him. She made that clear often enough. But when you’re young, and the person you’re dating has a best friend you can’t stand, you put up with them.” He looked at Holt. “We all did things we weren’t proud of when we were young.”
“Was Victoria involved with Tony’s operation?” Holt pressed. “The chop shop?” Tom’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Absolutely not,” he said, and the firmness in his voice left no room for negotiation. “Victoria wouldn’t have gone near any of that. She didn’t even like going past the repair shop.” He paused. “And for what it’s worth, there was never any evidence connecting Alvin to it either. Tony denied he had any partners. Alvin was never charged.”
“But did you ever suspect that Alvin was involved?” Holt asked. “He and Tony have been best friends since kindergarten.”
Tom was quiet for a moment. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “I always assumed not. Then Tony denied Alvin even knew about this operation.” He shrugged. ‘But I’ve been wrong about people before. Alvin was his best friend; he could’ve lied to protect him.” He looked at Holt steadily. “Is this all connected to the fire incidents and accidents?”
“Yes,” Holt said. “We have good reason to believe so.”
He leaned forward and spent the next several minutes bringing Tom up to date on the key points of the case. Holt watched his old friend’s face go through surprise and disbelief. Before settling into an expression dawning in horror at realizing that the world they thought they’d been living in had been considerably more complicated than they understood.
Tom sat back heavily when Holt finished.
