“You recognize her, don’t you, Gertrude?” Edwina asked, drawing Gertrude’s attention.
“I can’t say that I do, although I haven’t had time to give her a proper look, not even when she was inches away from me when she knocked me to the ground.”
“She knocked you over?” Harrison asked.
Gertrude pressed her lips together and nodded, stepping closer to where the woman was sitting, stopping though when the woman let out another growl.
“I’ll have to teach you how to defend yourself,” Harrison said as he joined her.
Not allowing herself to turn into a mass of blubbering jelly over that ridiculously sweet offer, she turned her gaze on the woman again, studying a face that was looking downright menacing. Blinking, she leaned forward.
“On my word, you’re the lady from the veranda who was wearing the tiara that supposedly went missing—and who threw suspicion on my good name and that of Mrs. Davenport’s.”
“She was wearing a dark wig that night,” Edwina pointed out. “You’ll notice she’s not wearing one tonight, although I do wonder how it came to be she picked you and Mrs. Davenport to take the fall for her apparent misdeeds.”
Agent McParland stepped forward. “How wonderfully observant you are, Edwina. I thought this woman looked familiar, and now, yes, you’re exactly right. She is the woman who first reported a theft from that night, claiming someone had stolen her valuable tiara. And—” he narrowed his eyes on the woman in question—“she must have been wearing a wig to disguise herself.” He jotted down a note and then returned his gaze to the woman. “You’re evidently not new to the confidence artist business since it was somewhat brilliant to claim you’d been a victim of theft when you apparently were the thief. I am curious, though, as to how you decided to cast suspicion on Mrs. Davenport and Miss Cadwalader.”
The woman, unsurprisingly, remained silent.
“It’ll go easier for you if you’ll only confess to your crimes,” Agent McParland continued.
Getrude’s lips twitched when the memory sprang to mind of hearing almost those exact same words when she’d been questioned about her own misdeeds. She cleared her throat. “Not that I want to be the voice of doubt, but having recently been wrongly accused of theft myself, I would like to ask if there’s any evidence to prove this woman is a thief, because running away from a hotel is hardly substantial proof.”
Edwina held up a bag Gertrude hadn’t noticed. “I pulled this off her when we were engaged in our little brawl, and as you’ll see, it’s filled with loot.” Pulling open the drawstring, Edwina pulled out a diamond brooch and pearl necklace, then rattled the bag. “There’s a small fortune in this bag alone, and who knows what she’s stashed away elsewhere.”
Talking the pearl necklace Edwina handed her, Gertrude frowned and caught the woman’s eye. “Could it be possible that you eavesdropped on the conversation I was having with my friend that evening on the veranda—the one where I might have mentioned I was concerned about Mrs. Davenport slipping away because I’d learned there were Pinkerton detectives roaming around the grounds that evening?”
The woman shrugged. “You weren’t exactly being quiet, and considering it was a most enlightening conversation, I couldn’t have been expected to ignore it. Everything would have worked out perfectly if you’d actually been arrested and jailed, and if I wouldn’t have made the very great mistake of returning to the scene of the crime. I thought the coast would be clear for one more little foray into, well, mischief, if you will, since it was so easy the first time around. Unfortunately, I was mistaken, and barely got anything at all because...”
The woman glared at Edwina, then pressed her lips together, refusing to say so much as another word, seeming to realize she’d allowed too much to slip as it was.
Pulling her up to her feet, Agent McParland nodded to Harrison. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see this woman properly arrested and processed.” He turned to Edwina. “May I say how impressed I am with how you were able to puzzle this out. Why, I truly did not expect this mystery to be solved in the near future, but you, after being at the Manhattan Beach Hotel for mere hours, puzzled out a mystery that has stumped our most senior agents, myself included. You then chased the culprit down and helped me secure her in the end.”
“I believe Harrison is actually the person responsible for securing her,” Edwina said.
“It was a group effort,” Harrison said, exchanging a smile with his sister.
“Perhaps both of you should consider a career as a Pinkerton,” Agent McParland said before he smiled at Edwina. “Would you care to accompany me to see how we go about processing a person accused of theft?”
“I would be delighted.”
With the suspect between them, Edwina and Agent McParland walked away, leaving Gertrude alone on the beach with Harrison.
“Why do I have the distinct impression my family is someday going to have a Pinkerton in the family—or perhaps two, if one is by marriage?” Harrison asked.
“Because you’re astute that way,” Gertrude returned.
Smiling, he took her hand and kept it in his as he pulled her forward, leading her back toward the Manhattan Beach Hotel.
“Now that the mystery has been solved,” Gertrude began as they walked, “will our holiday be cut short here?”
Harrison gave her hand a squeeze. “About that ... would you be disappointed to learn there was never any intention to actually...”
Whatever else he’d been about to say got lost when they crested a dune and laid out before them was the most amazing sight Gertrude had ever seen.
Torches were lit around a most elaborate picnic setting, complete with numerous picnic blankets and cushions for the many guests who were gathered there.
Those guests, she was stunned to discover, were Asher, Permilia, Temperance, Mrs. Davenport, Miss Henrietta, Miss Mabel, Mr. Barclay, Mrs. Sinclair, Margaret, Adelaide, and an older gentleman Gertrude had never met before, but given his resemblance to Harrison, she assumed he was Harrison’s father.
