“You do have a key, right?”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Only the obvious. You had access.”

  “Meaning?”

  Emily offered an unnecessary explanation. “She’s saying you’re a suspect, you numbskull. You could’ve taken the necklace.”

  “You think I’d steal from my own mother?”

  Kenzi shook her head. “I’m exploring possibilities.”

  “Who the hell do you think—”

  “For that matter, Emily, you’ve been sleeping over at Lionel’s place, right?”

  Emily appeared outraged. “What is this? Slut-shaming?”

  “Far from it. I’m just noting that you had access to Lionel’s keys. You could’ve gotten up in the night and made a copy. Come over when his parents were away.”

  “Where do you get off accusing—”

  “I haven’t accused anyone of anything. That’s not my style.” She peered deeply into Emily’s eyes. “I collect facts. And then when I’m ready, I reveal the truth.”

  #

  When Kenzi reentered the house, Jean was rearranging the plates in the breakfront.

  “I’ve told my mother a thousand times how these should be displayed. But she always messes it up.”

  Kenzi was perplexed. “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it does. The most valuable ones should be on top.”

  “How do you know which ones are the most valuable?”

  “You have to know something about blue-flow Spode. Which I guess you don’t.”

  “I’m somewhat surprised your mother has fancy china.”

  “Only because I’ve given it to her. A new plate every year on her birthday.”

  “Does she like them?”

  “I don’t know. Her tastes tend to be more...plebian. I’m trying to give her something that will increase in value. In case the time comes when...she needs it.”

  “Like if she leaves your father?”

  Jean closed the breakfront doors. “Why do you say that?”

  “Are you aware that your mother has packed her bag?”

  “No...”

  “And apparently your parents are in a financial crunch.”

  “I did know that.” Jean shook her head. “The necklace could’ve helped.”

  “If they’d been willing to sell it. Your mother seems to think her whole marriage rides on that one pink teardrop.”

  “Probably because it’s the only thing she’s ever had that was worth anything. Other than these plates. Which she doesn’t appreciate.” Jean sighed. “Father has never treated her like she deserves. He’d be nothing without her. He’d probably still be in the army. Or dead.”

  “I’m sure he does the best he can.”

  “No. He doesn’t. Doesn’t even try. Too lazy. Too determined to be the nice guy. It’s a sham.”

  It was hard to hear a daughter speak so poorly of her father. Especially so soon after she’d heard the father speak so glowingly about his daughter. “Taking care of a family is hard.”

  “Hard for him. Not for others. I’ve told Mother she should leave him. Move in with me. Let me take care of things. She’s too old for this crap. Did you know she manages the household expenses?”

  “I did not.”

  “She has to. Father is worthless when it comes to money. I’m not even sure he has basic math skills. I just hope she isn’t dipping into her legacy.”

  “Legacy?”

  “Some money my grandmother left Mother a year or so ago. It’s not a fortune, but it’s enough for a lifestyle upgrade. I bet she hasn’t even invested it wisely.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Not directly. I don’t think she understands anything about money. She just needs to turn it all over to me.”

  “You want to be in charge of her legacy?”

  “Is there something wrong with that? What’s the point of having children if, eventually, they can’t take charge of the day-to-day crap so you don’t have to?”

  Sounded good. But when Kenzi looked into Jean’s eyes, she got a feeling her motives were less altruistic. “What is it you do again?”

  “I’m an HR manager at DigiDynamics. It’s a tech firm—”

  “I’m familiar with it. They had a lot of layoffs recently, didn’t they? When Morgan Moreno took charge?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “No point. Just asking questions.”

  Jean did not attempt to mask her hostility. “Shouldn’t you be off at mass somewhere?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re Catholic, right?”

  “Technically...”

  “You Hispanics are so predictable.”

  Kenzi’s neck tensed. “I’m not actually that religious. But I think it’s good for my daughter to—”

  “You’ve made a bundle off other people’s personal problems, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve—what?”

  “You’re a divorce lawyer, aren’t you?”

  “Usually. But what you said before was wrong. I don't even bill by the hour. I—”

  “I’m sure you have some scheme for getting rich. How else could you afford that outfit you’re wearing? You rake in the big bucks and pay my sister as little as possible.”

  “Actually, Sharon just got a big—” She paused. “Is there some reason you’re putting me on trial?”

  Jean smiled. “Is there some reason that, just a moment ago, you were putting me on trial?”

  Clarence couldn’t have picked a more opportune moment to step in. “Hey, what’re you two gals yakking about?”

  “Nothing important,” Kenzi said. “I’m glad you could be here today, Clarence. I can see the family trusts you.”

  Jean rolled her eyes.

  “Do you know anything about this necklace business?”

  “No more than anyone else. I used to be a PI, once upon a time, so Chad asked me to take a look into things. But I didn’t get very far.”

  “That’s a big favor to ask.”

  “You ain’t a-jokin’. I mean, housesitting, sure. Happy to do it. But this is something else again. I can’t figure why anyone would want to take that necklace.”

  Jean snorted. “Money.”

  “Well now, not everything can be reduced to dollars and cents, young lady. What that pearl meant to Chad and Bertha—that can’t be bought at the store. That can’t be borrowed from the bank. I saw what a difference it made to their lives.”

  “You knew Chad and Bertha before they were married?”

  “Heck, yeah. Chad and I served together. In the army. I worshipped that man.” He smiled. “Still think mighty highly of him.”

  They were interrupted by a loud cry from the kitchen. Sounded like Sharon and her mother both speaking at the same time. “Dinner!”

  Kenzi pressed her hands together. “Thank goodness. Let’s eat.”

  #

  Kenzi excused herself while the others set the table. She returned just as Chad slipped in the table leaf to extend the length of the dining room table. It was worth the trouble, because now all eight guests could sit together. They sat elbow-to-elbow and the end chairs touched walls on both sides, but since Chad and Bertha sat there, she didn’t have to worry about it.

  Kenzi sat on one side between Sharon and Jean (she thought it best to separate them) while Lionel, Emily, and Clarence faced them.

  Bertha placed the turkey in the center of the table. It smelled delicious. If it had burned, she couldn’t tell. She wondered if she should hazard a bite. Hailee had been pressuring her to “end her lifelong commitment to animal cruelty and save the planet in the process” by giving up meat. But Hailee wasn’t here, and she thought she could trust Sharon to keep her mouth shut.

  “What a feast!” Sharon said. “Mom, you’re going to have a hard time topping this on Karamu.” She leaned toward Kenzi. “That’s the big Kwanzaa communal feast. On the sixth day. What the rest of the world calls New Year’s Eve.”

  “You give up New Year’s Eve?”

  “It’s an important part of our culture. Can’t miss the feast.”

  Bertha smiled. “And Sharon usually slips out before midnight for a drink of two.”

  “Mom!”

  “Or so I’ve heard.” She looked down at her food. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember the last time we were all gathered like this at the holidays. One last time.”

  Chad stabbed a fork in his turkey. “Bertha, would you stop acting as if the world is coming to an end? It’s just a necklace.”

  “It is so so so much more than just a necklace.”

  Kenzi cut in. “I’m sure it will turn up. Give it time. Don’t do anything drastic.”

  “Time isn’t infinite.”

  “No, but this dressing sure is.” Clarence helped himself to a huge spoonful. “You do a fine job with the fixin’s.”

  “Thank you, Clarence.”

  “Chad, you remember that Thanksgiving we spent in Okinawa?”

  “I do. Worst holiday ever.”

  “But best dressing ever. Till tonight.”

  Emily chimed in. “My hat’s off to you, Bertha. I don’t know how you handle a big meal like this. I can barely manage soup in the crockpot. Much less a five-course meal.”

  “It’s no big deal.” Bertha looked embarrassed, but Kenzi suspected she was pleased. “You get used to it after a while. Chad helps some.”

  Jean made a scoffing noise. “Sure he does.”

  Chad sat up straight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just wondering how you helped. Did you turn down the volume on the television so she could concentrate?”

  “I’ll have you know I help quite a bit around the house. Especially since...since...”

  “Since you get laid off.”

  “I did not get laid off. Don’t disrespect your parents.”

  “I’m not disrespecting my parentssss,” she said, laying heavily on the s.

  “Jean,” Lionel said, “chill.”

  “I have a constitutionally protected right to speak my mind.”

  Chad’s lips thinned. “Not at my table you don’t.”

  “Is this your table? What makes it your table? Did you pay for it?”

  “I made mortgage payments and kept the lights on for decades so you could have a home.”

  “Some home.”

  Chad rose. “What’s wrong with our home? I think we have a fine home.”

  “And it’s all about you, isn’t it?” Jean also stood. “Did you ever ask Mother what she wanted? Did you ever ask if she thought we had a fine home?”

  Lionel jumped to his feet. “Jean, calm down. You’re ruining Christmas.”

  “Maybe it should be ruined.”

  “Says you. Because all you care about is yourself. Because you’re a selfish, self-centered egomaniac. And you always have been.”

  Clarence stood, reaching out. “I think everyone needs to get a grip on themselves.”

  “You would say that,” Jean replied. “Is that a new car I saw in your driveway?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Oh, nothing. My mother’s necklace disappears. And you get a new car.”

  Clarence appeared outraged. “Do you know how far back me and your papa go back?”

  “Yes,” Jean said, “you two always work together, don’t you?”

  Even Bertha looked shocked. “Jean!”

  “Are you going to take this too, Mother? Like you always lie down and take it?”

  Bertha rose to her feet, but by this time, everyone was talking at once and Kenzi couldn’t make out a word anyone was saying.

  Sharon leaned over. Her eyes were wide and watery. “Kenzi, please stop this.”

  “What do you think I can do?”

  “I don’t know. You’re smart. Think of something.”

  In fact, she did know how to interrupt this meltdown. She’d been planning to wait until later...but Sharon was right. This had to end before someone did some permanent damage.

  She dodged hands and fists till she got to the kitchen. She let a few moments pass to make it seem less coincidental...

  “I found it!”

  Everyone at the table whirled around.

  Kenzi stood in front of the swinging kitchen door. Holding a beautiful necklace with a luminescent pink teardrop pearl.

  Bertha almost screamed. “You found it!”

  “I did.” She walked to the end of the table. Bertha reached for it, but Kenzi slid it over her neck. “This doesn’t belong in a display case. This should be around your neck. Always.”

  “Where did you find it?”

  “Under the refrigerator, believe it or not. I thought that cat of yours had a suspicious look on his face.” She smiled. “I’m not sure where someone left it, but Gus thought it was another play toy. Probably batted it all over the house, until finally he knocked it under the fridge.”

  “And couldn’t get it out. I never thought to look there.” Tears welled up in Bertha’s eyes. “I—I never thought I’d see this again. I was certain—” Her voice choked. “Doesn’t matter.” She looked across at her husband. “Chad, I guess you’re going to have to put up with me a little longer.”

  “That will be my honor and privilege, sweet lady.”

  Sharon clapped her hands together. “Then you’re not leaving, Mom?”

  “Don’t see how I can now.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “I guess Christmas is the season of miracles.”

  #

  An hour later, everything and everyone had calmed down to such a dramatic extent that Kenzi began to think the open warfare she’d witnessed at the dinner table was a dream. The rest of the evening was peaceful, even joyous. After the table was cleared, everyone settled in the living room and more eggnog was poured. The tone was much more relaxed and amicable.

  And Bertha was still wearing the necklace.

  Just after ten, the guests started to depart. Jean, predictably, was the first. “I should go. Lots of work to do.”

  Lionel squinted. “On Christmas Eve?”

  “No holidays for the employed. You should try it sometime.”

  “I work just as much—”

  “Just kidding, bro.” She stopped in front of her father. “Dad, I’m...sorry. About what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

  He stood and hugged his eldest. “I know you didn’t, sweetheart. We were just all so upset about that damned necklace.”

  “Blessed necklace,” Bertha corrected. “I’m sure it makes no sense to anyone but me, but this necklace has become a validation. A symbol of continuity. Like the flag over the castle that tells everyone everything is still okay inside.” She squeezed the pearl tightly. “I know I shouldn’t put so much stock in...things.”

  “I can see how much better you are now that you have it back,” Clarence said, also rising. “It makes you happy.”

  “What makes me happy is this family. And that includes you, Clarence.”

  “Aw shucks.”

  “It was so nice having you all together tonight. Let’s do it again soon.”

  Clarence followed Jean out the door. Lionel and Emily were next to leave.

  “I suppose we should go home too,” Sharon said, yawning. “I bet Hailee is still awake, Kenzi. Probably hoping you’ll let her get into her stocking before she goes to bed.”

  “No chance.”

  “I know, I know.” Sharon gathered her coat, but just before they left, Kenzi placed a hand on her arm. “Sharon, would you mind starting the car? I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Too much eggnog?”

  Kenzi smiled. “Out in a flash.”

  Sharon’s mother walked her to the car, leaving Kenzi alone with Chad.

  Kenzi spoke first. “It’s Parkinson’s, isn’t it?”

  Chad nodded slowly. “Early stages. But the doc says it’s gonna get worse fast. Something called Parkinson’s plus syndrome. Accelerates quickly, leads to dementia, and then...” He shook his head. “How did you know?”

  Kenzi shrugged. “The signs were there. Her hand trembled. She had trouble hearing. Diminished sense of smell. Trouble sleeping. And Bertha mentioned that she’d seen a doctor recently. My grandmother had Parkinson’s. I recognized the symptoms.”

  “Of course you never know for sure.” Just a look into Chad’s eyes told Kenzi how much he loved his wife. “But she’s only going to be able to enjoy a few more Christmases. Maybe...very few.”

  “So before it was too late, you wanted the whole family to gather for Christmas dinner. Because you knew nothing would mean more to your wife than that. But your children are busy adults with lives of their own. So how do you make that happen?” Kenzi smiled. “Make the symbolic linchpin of the marriage disappear. If that didn’t bring the kids together, nothing would.”

  “I can see why Sharon likes you. You’re smart.”

  “Nah. But I’m good at reading people. I worked as a counselor for a while and it gave me an understanding—and appreciation—of human nature. I wasn’t convinced anyone here needed money badly enough to steal something that meant so much to your wife. But once I realized she was sick, and how much she wanted her family gathered together at Christmastime...I knew what must’ve happened.”

  “How did you find the necklace?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t hard, once I knew you were the one who made it disappear. I remembered what you said earlier about the privacy of your foot locker. So while you were all setting the table, I climbed into the attic and found it.”

  “I keep it locked.”

  “Yeah...” Kenzi’s eyes rolled upward. “My sister Emma showed me how to pick locks. I keep a small pick on my keychain. It isn’t tough when you know what you’re doing. And that was an old lock.”

  “I knew losing the necklace would upset Bertha. But I thought it would be worth it if all the kids came over on Christmas Eve. And of course, I planned for it to miraculously reappear on the first day of Kwanzaa.” He paused. “Thanks for telling that story about the cat. Took the heat off me.”

  “I didn’t want another Battle Royale. But you should tell your wife the truth.”

  “I will.” He sighed. “Maybe not today.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be too angry. After all, you gave her what she wanted most. And she got the necklace back.”

  He nodded. “Once you get older, you realize how important family is. The only thing that matters, really. Especially at Christmastime.”

 

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