A Treacherous Trader

Prologue

Hamburg, Germany

April, 1937

Leo Kurzer averted his eyes from the flags along the boulevard. The swastikas seemed to be multiplying every day, as were the brown-shirted hoodlums and the thick-braided Fuhrer-worshiping maidens he passed on the street. Since the passing of the Nuremberg laws in 1935, the persecution of German Jews was ramping up, and shop owners like himself were being forced to sell their businesses at bargain rates. When he arrived at his jewelry shop, he paused a moment outside the door. He had opened the store eleven years ago with his wife, Frieda, and his daughters, Sophie and Anna, standing proudly by his side. It was such a happy day. It seemed impossible this was the last time he would walk through that familiar door, and yet it was about to happen. In a few moments, he would sign away his life’s dream and sell his business to his employee, Rolf.

Leo tugged on the handle and the door sprung open. He meant to have the door fixed, it always stuck a little, and sadly realized it was no longer his concern. Rolf was waiting with his lawyer, a stiff-necked man with a bulbous nose who regarded Leo with contempt. The process of signing the papers commenced with few words and little flourish. Still, Leo took his time, writing his name carefully. He would do everything properly, right up to the end.

The lawyer was businesslike, and once the papers were signed he packed them into his lawyer’s briefcase, nodded to Rolf, and, ignoring Leo, left the shop. Just like that, Leo thought, my life work is over and I am adrift. He looked at Rolf, who was silently watching him with a deep sadness in his eyes. As brokenhearted as Leo was to part with his store, it lightened his mood a little to know it would remain in Rolf’s good hands. Rolf had been with him from the beginning. He was a young man with potential who had grown into an expert jeweler under his tutelage, and over the years the two men had become more than employer and employee: Rolf and Leo, Christian and Jew, had become friends. Realizing this might be the last time they ever saw one another, Leo knew if he delayed another moment, he would weep.

"Well, that was harder than it looked," Leo said, putting on his hat.

"Please, wait a moment, Rolf said. Before you go, come to the workshop. I have something for you."

Leo reluctantly followed him to the workshop at the back of the store. How he would miss his workshop! The tools, the jewels, watches and clocks, artistic designs, so much work left unfinished. It broke his heart to be surrounded by everything he loved knowing he would never see this place again. He wanted to bolt for the door and run down the street, past those hideous flags, and all the way home to Frieda and the girls, who were waiting for him. Instead, he watched Rolf reach beneath a workbench and pull out a small box.

"This is for you and your family," Rolf said.

Leo opened the box and was surprised to see a diamond tiara nestled inside. Is this the tiara you are designing for Herr Professor Berger? Leo asked. For many weeks, Rolf had worked closely with Joseph Berger, a professor at the University of Hamburg, to create a wedding tiara for his daughter, Sara.

"Yes, and you must take it with you," Rolf said.

"Why? Leo asked. Am I to give it to Frieda to wear?" He was making a joke, of course, but Rolf wasn’t laughing; his face was deadly serious.

"Frau Richter, the Herr Professor’s neighbor, told me he was fired from his position at university. He has taken his family to Denmark. I want you to have the tiara."

"I don’t understand, Leo said. Why would you give this to me?"

"Because I know you are leaving Germany, too, Rolf said. Leo stared at him. He hadn’t even told Frieda his plans. How did Rolf know? I overheard you making arrangements on the phone, Rolf explained, as if he knew Leo was afraid to answer. Take the tiara with you to Holland. The Herr Professor was a good man, and he would want you to have it. Sell the diamonds if you must. Reestablish yourself, far away from here. He placed his hand on Leo’s arm. You know, my friend, the writing’s on the wall. Germany is being governed by evil men."

Leo studied the tiara. The base was platinum, the design a floral cluster of diamonds and pearls. It was a work of beauty. This is your finest work yet, he said. You should sell it. Leo tried to hand it back, but Rolf clasped his hands behind his back.

"Consider it a gift, Leo, for your friendship, and for this shop, which you have been forced to sell. Please, take the tiara, or I will live with a heavy heart knowing I could have helped you and did nothing."

Leo felt tears welling in his eyes. How can I ever thank you?

"By sending me a postcard from Holland telling me you are safe."

Rolf wrapped the tiara in cloth before storing it in the box, then he put the box in a shopping bag and handed it to Leo. They walked in silence to the front door. There was nothing left to say but good-bye. Leo shook Rolf’s hand and thought: there are still good people in Germany. But in his heart, he knew there were not enough good people to change what was coming. The winds were blowing. The swastika flags were unfurled and flying.

Chapter 1

Molly, you’re flushed, are you all right? Kitty asked as Molly sat down across from her at Fabio’s, their favorite Italian restaurant in downtown Durham.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I feel great. Molly thrust her left hand under Kitty’s nose and fluttered her fingers. I’m engaged!

Kitty squealed and jumped out of her seat to give her friend a hug. I’m so happy for you! Matt finally asked you to marry him.

He’s graduating soon, and he knew time was running out.

As days had turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Molly had begun to wonder if Matt was ever going to ask her to marry him. Endless late-night take-out dinners and long hours at the Duke University Library made a proposal seem as likely as winning the lottery.

Is that your family heirloom ring? Kitty asked.

Yes, it is. My mother is so happy I’m going to wear it. It belonged to my great-grandmother. Together they admired the diamond, Molly tilting her hand under the overhead lights to maximize the sparkle.

Kitty sighed. It seems like yesterday we were eating lunch in the teachers’ break room, talking about boyfriends, or our lack of them, she said. The two women had met teaching at an exclusive private school, but after eight years Molly found she had no time for herself, or a boyfriend. She submitted articles to Collector’s Weekly, and after working there part-time for extra spending money, she decided to apply when a full-time staff position for a writer became available. Now I’m married to Lex, Kitty went on, and you’re going to marry Dr. Matt Harrison. Give me all the details. Did he propose at the Biltmore?

Yes, he did, Molly said. They had gone to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville for the weekend. In the past, Matt had made it clear he was going to surprise her when he proposed, but so many opportunities had come and gone, and Molly was tired of being disappointed. Would a romantic weekend at the Biltmore Estate be considered enough of a surprise in his book? Or were they going to date forever? On the drive to Asheville, she’d wanted to scream: Ask already! Matt waited until Sunday morning, Molly said. We went for a walk in the garden before we checked out of the hotel, and he told me he had something to ask me. She laughed. I thought he was going to tell me he’d left his wallet at home and could we charge everything on my credit card, but he got down on his knee and asked me to marry him.

Kitty clapped her hands. Matt gets an A-plus for romance, she said approvingly. Her enormous light blue eyes looked off into the distance. I remember when Lex proposed, she said dreamily. He took me to a Carolina Hurricanes game. At intermission they announced over the loudspeaker that he had an important question to ask his girlfriend. Molly nodded. She’d heard the story a hundred times, but she indulged her friend. Kitty couldn’t help herself. She was crazy about Lex. The kiss-cam turned to us, and there we were, up on the big screen for everyone to see. The crowd cheered when Lex got down on his knee. He’s so romantic.

Yes, he is, Molly said to be polite. But she was thinking, Romantic if you like being proposed to in front of thousands of people in an ice-cold hockey arena.

"I’m so happy you got the ring and the man you wanted," Kitty said.

Me too. Molly smiled, glancing again at the ring. She had dreamed of wearing it for such a long time. Will you be my maid of honor and bridesmaid, all rolled into one? It’s going to be a small wedding.

I’d be honored, Kitty said. Have you picked a date?

October thirteenth.

Kitty frowned. Are you sure you want to get married on an unlucky number day?

I don’t believe numbers are bad luck.

Okay, if you say so. Kitty didn’t sound convinced. You do realize that’s only six months away.

I know it’s not a lot of time to put together a wedding. That’s why I need your help. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Well, to start with, you’ll need a church or someplace to have the ceremony and the reception. You’ll want music, a cake, flowers, and don’t forget the dress. That’s the most important thing. You have to look beautiful.

I want something vintage, and it can’t make me look like a giant meringue, Molly said. With her size-fourteen body and standing five feet eight inches tall, she was already self-conscious about being the center of attention in the room.

Don’t worry, we’ll find something special and you’ll look fabulous, Kitty assured her. Would you mind if I wore the dress I bought for my cousin Lynn’s wedding? It was already altered when she canceled her wedding and I couldn’t return it. It’s chiffon blue and really lovely.

I remember that dress, Molly said. You modeled it for me and looked beautiful. It will be perfect.

I’m so glad you don’t mind, Kitty said. It’s been hanging in my closet for over a year. I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

I asked Swanson if I could take next week off, Molly said. Carl Swanson was her boss at Collector’s Weekly. He had a truculent and moody nature and the staff lived in fear of him. It wasn’t easy to get him to agree, but he relented. She paused. I know it’s a lot to ask, being last minute, but if I buy the tickets today we can get a flight to Vermont at a pretty decent rate.

Kitty’s eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean ‘flight to Vermont’? You’re getting married in Vermont?"

I told you we’d be moving there if Matt gets the residency at Fletcher Allen.

But you don’t know that’s where he’ll be going yet, do you?

Well, no.

So what’s wrong with getting married right here in North Carolina?

Kitty, even if we don’t move to Vermont, Matt still wants to get married there. He spent a lot of time in the state when he was growing up. His parents took the entire family there every summer, and he absolutely loves it. That’s why he wanted the residency at Fletcher Allen in the first place. Besides, it will be beautiful in the fall. It’s a destination wedding.

Kitty sighed. You want me to go with you to Vermont for an entire week? Her eyes slid to her cell phone on the table. I’ll have to talk to Lex.

Although Kitty and Lex worked together at their auction company and spent every waking moment together, when they were out of range for more than an hour a phone call had to be placed to touch base. It drove Molly crazy.

I’ve already cleared it with Lex, Molly said. My mother is going to fill in for you. You don’t have to worry about a thing.

You talked to Lex? Kitty looked incredulous. You told him you were getting married before you told me, your best friend?

I wanted to make sure a week away wouldn’t be a problem.

You know what? I don’t think you need my help planning your wedding. Kitty looked hurt. You’re pretty good at doing things all on your own.

Molly reached out and took her hand. Please don’t be mad at me. I know you and Lex are two peas in a pod, and I was afraid if I didn’t clear it with him first, you wouldn’t come with me.

Kitty’s face softened. I’m not mad you talked to Lex, she said. I’m just surprised and a little disappointed you don’t want to get married here, in Durham, among all your friends.

Matt and I aren’t kids anymore. We’re both in our thirties, and we’re well past caring about the grand ceremony and glitzy reception. We want to keep everything small and simple.

Okay, I get that, Kitty said, "but I wish Matt hadn’t gone back to med school. I wish he’d stayed at Collector’s Weekly. Then you’d never have to leave."

He wasn’t happy being a marketing director, Molly said. His dream to go to medical school got interrupted in his youth, and now he’s back on track. Don’t be upset with him for pursuing his passion.

I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m being your silly, selfish friend. Kitty grinned. So, where are we staying in Vermont? It better be someplace nice.

I’ve booked two rooms at the Hotel Vermont in downtown Burlington. It’s right near the boardwalk, Lake Champlain, and Church Street Marketplace, which is a pedestrian brick-lined street with loads of shops and restaurants.

Good! I love to shop, but are you sure Clara doesn’t want to go? You know your mother will want to help you.

She’s happy to stay here and help out. Molly knew what Kitty was doing. She was already trying to get out of leaving Lex. She doesn’t mind putting in the extra hours.

Molly’s mother, Clara Appleby, once owned a thriving antique shop but didn’t like being tied down to retail hours. After closing her shop, she started working part-time at Lex’s new auction gallery. When Lex found he couldn’t survive without her, he asked Clara to become a silent partner. Kitty was well aware of Clara’s abilities. She had no excuse to back out.

A waitress suddenly appeared at their table, startling them both. You ready to order? She shuffled her feet like a runner at a starting gate, ready to bolt to the next table if they didn’t answer immediately.

I’ll have the Roman Conquest pizza, Molly said. She didn’t need to look at the menu. She always ordered the Roman Conquest pizza at Fabio’s. It was a thin-crust pizza with caramelized onions, red peppers, feta and mozzarella cheese, and dried figs. A house specialty that made her mouth water just thinking about it. And sweet tea, she said.

The waitress nodded, hands on hips. Molly noticed she didn’t write the order down on a pad. She hoped she would remember it. She didn’t understand why restaurants prided themselves on their waitstaff memorizing orders. Only last week she and Matt had eaten dinner at an upscale restaurant and their waiter had brought her the filet mignon when she’d ordered the rib-eye. At least they’d gotten a free dessert thrown in for the mix-up.

I’ll have sweet tea, too, Kitty said, and a thick-crust pizza with pepperoni and meatballs and extra cheese. Kitty was tall and stick thin, and no matter how much food she consumed, she never seemed to gain an ounce. The complete opposite of Molly, who swore she could gain weight just by looking at food.

As soon as the waitress ran off, Molly said, Look, I’m sorry I threw the trip at you without any warning. I know spending a week away from Lex is a lot to ask.

I’ll be fine, chicken. Molly was relieved to hear Kitty call her by her nickname. It was a good sign she was forgiven. Actually, I’m excited about going to Vermont. We’ll find a gorgeous vintage gown and make all the arrangements and get everything settled. You just have to promise one thing.

Sure, whatever you want. Molly was so happy Kitty was going with her she was ready to promise her anything.

Please don’t get involved in another murder while we’re there.

Molly sat back in her chair. It was never my intention to get involved in a murder investigation. It just happened.

It happened twice!

Molly clamped her mouth shut. She wanted to say: Actually, it happened three times. Kitty knew about the murders in Richmond and Nashville, but Molly had told only her mother about the murder she’d solved in their own backyard.

I know you’re very brave, Kitty said, but I’m not brave. I’m a wimp, and I don’t want anything to do with murder or police or anything that’s going to give me nightmares. You have to promise.

Promise not to get involved in another murder? Molly smiled. Sure, I’ll promise if it makes you feel better. The odds are low it will happen again, so stop worrying. We’re going to have a perfectly good time.

Chapter 2

While Molly and Kitty were eating lunch at Fabio’s, Lindsey Emerson was at home, over seven hundred miles away in Newburyport, Massachusetts, sitting in front of her computer screen. She glanced at the framed photograph of her fiancé, Keith, on the corner of the desk and picked up her cell to call him. Her finger hovered over the speed dial. What was she going to say? Honey, there’s been a change of plans? She dropped the phone on the desk as if it was hot. She wasn’t going to ruin his dream of getting married in Vermont.

Through the open door, she heard her mother’s electric wheelchair roll across the kitchen floor. Lindsey got up and quietly closed the door, walked back to her desk, and sank wearily into her chair. A cool breeze stirred the curtains at the window. It felt good to have fresh air after the long, hard winter, but it was a little cold. She closed the window, ran her fingers through her long blond hair, and glared at the image on the screen.

I will not cry, she told the image. Not over you, not ever. Still, her eyes filled with tears.

The image of the man on her screen had nothing to say. He stared back at Lindsey, mute. He was older than the pictures she’d seen in her mother’s photo album, but she recognized those dark eyes, the square jaw. Only his hair was different. It was shorter and flecked with gray. He was no longer a young man relegated to a dusty photo album. Alec Portman was the owner of Portman Photography in Burlington, Vermont. Don’t have the traditional wedding! Come to Vermont and let Portman Photography ensure your special day is full of spontaneity and moments that matter. Call for a free estimate!

Lindsey wondered what the good people of Burlington would say if they knew the truth about her father. She gritted her teeth. She was only a baby when he’d left them and had no memory of the man. Yet there he was, in Burlington, where she was going to get married next year. How was this possible? Her mother had told her he lived in Chicago.

Lindsey stared at the picture so long her eyes stung. She wanted to slap that ridiculous smile off his face. She glanced again at her phone but made no move to pick it up. If she told Keith about her father, he would leave the decision of where to have the wedding up to her.

A knock on the door startled Lindsey. Honey, lunch is ready, her mother said.

Lindsey slammed her laptop screen down so hard, her computer almost fell off the desk. She grabbed it, took a deep breath, and opened the door, smiling down at her mother as if nothing was wrong, but inside her head she was screaming: I found him, I found him, I didn’t mean to, but I found the bastard who put you in that chair! Instead, she followed her mother to the kitchen, where they ate lunch and talked about their upcoming trip to Vermont to plan her wedding.

Chapter 3

A week later, on a cool April evening, Molly and Kitty checked into the Hotel Vermont in Burlington. To the right of the entrance was a sitting area with a fireplace. To the left was the front desk. A woman in her thirties with short platinum hair and rimless eyeglasses greeted them. Her name tag said Caitlin.

Welcome to the Hotel Vermont, Caitlin said.

Molly Appleby and Kitty Lewis, checking in, Molly said, stifling a yawn. It was nearly ten o’clock and they were both tired, but to her relief the check-in went quickly.

Caitlin handed them each a room key, and gave Molly tickets for free parking in the garage next door. After parking the rental car, they wheeled their suitcases through a side door to the lobby and took the elevator to the second floor, where they parted ways. Before unpacking her bags, Molly took a moment to admire her surroundings. The room was comfortable with soft lighting and rustic wood-tone finishes, sliding opaque glass doors for the closet and bathroom, and streamlined modern furniture. Pleased she had made the right decision in choosing a hotel, Molly put her toothbrush and makeup in the bathroom, dressed in her pajamas, and climbed beneath a soft white comforter. She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

The windows in the room were tall with double shades for energy efficiency as well as blocking out morning sunlight. Molly had been so tired the night before, she hadn’t thought to shut them, and as the first light of day streamed into the room the next morning, it woke her. Rolling over, she glanced at the bedside clock. Quarter to seven. She got out of bed, stretched, and walked to the window. The sky was a clear blue without a hint of smog or humidity. Her room overlooked Cherry Street, and it was quiet on a Sunday morning. The only person she saw was an elderly man walking a small black and tan dachshund on a leash. They were leaving the senior living apartments across the street, and she watched them make their way toward Battery Park and Lake Champlain just a block away.

After taking her shower, Molly brushed her shoulder-length brown hair and changed into khaki pants, a long-sleeved white cotton shirt and a zippered light blue jacket. Before leaving the room, she grabbed her vintage Chanel handbag and a map and guidebook of the city. The handbag was a Christmas present from Matt. Most women would have been thrilled to receive it, but Molly had questioned him like a cop grilling a suspect, demanding to know why he’d bought her such an extravagant gift. Did he expect her to change when she became a doctor’s wife? Would she have to start wearing designer clothes and driving fancy cars? Matt was stunned. No, no, no! I thought it was prettier than that knockoff Kate Spade bag you’ve been hauling around forever. Consider it a thank-you for all the sacrifices you’ve made for me while I’ve been in school. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but he knew what he was getting. Molly, unlike her mother, who was always impeccably