Cover

  A Treacherous Trader

  Molly Appleby is on cloud nine. The talented reporter and senior staff writer for Collector’s Weekly just got engaged to the man she loves. When she takes time off to plan her wedding and shop for a vintage gown, the spunky writer with a growing reputation for finding corpses and solving murders vows to her family and fiancé to avoid trouble at all costs. Until the wedding photographer she visits turns up dead in his home, the victim of foul play.

  So when she’s not busy shopping for the perfect dress or sampling endless varieties of cake, Molly once again finds herself attempting to unravel a mystery, and the endless string of women spurned by the playboy photographer leaves no shortage of suspects. When another corpse turns up and Molly discovers that the woman who sold her a gorgeous vintage gown might be the murderer—and that the gown itself may be linked to a decades-old crime—Molly must summon all her sleuthing skills to find the killer before her preparations for the big day become plans for her funeral.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Beyond the Page Books

  are published by

  Beyond the Page Publishing

  www.beyondthepagepub.com

  Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Stanley and Parker Riggs.

  Excerpt from The Path of the Crooked copyright © 2014 by Jennifer Stanley.

  Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  ISBN: 978-1-940846-42-2

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Excerpt from The Path of the Crooked

  Books by Ellery Adams and Parker Riggs

  About the Authors

  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! Mark finally asked you to marry him.”

  “He’s graduating soon, and he knew time w
as running out.”

  As days had turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Molly had begun to wonder if Mark 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. Mark 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, Mark 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! “Mark 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. “Mark 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 Mark 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, Mark 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.”

  “Mark 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 Mark 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.”