not exactly something Doreen could count on.
However, the store going bankrupt about forty years ago potentially matched with the time frame Millicent had found the jewels. So that was all good. Figuring out who had owned the store and finding someone alive who still remembered and could provide a clue regarding who worked there would be difficult.
Doreen went through all the data she could find on the store with various internet searches. The owners, the Johnsons, had been an old family name in Kelowna, and, when the daughter had married, the son-in-law had become part of the business. By all appearances they had been one big happy family. And yet Doreen knew things weren’t always the way they appeared.
As she researched the second name, Abelman, she realized that was the son-in-law. They had been twenty-eight and twenty-seven at the time they got married, and only a few years later the son-in-law was brought into the family business on an equal partnership basis. But, as their only daughter, she would inherit everything anyway when her parents passed. That information Doreen had gleaned from the historical society.
Apparently Johnson and Abelman Jewelers was a highly regarded business, and the family had been extremely wealthy. The business had been failing and finally went under after the parents died unexpectedly, leaving the younger generation in charge. Apparently the son-in-law didn’t have the same head for business that his wife’s parents had. At least that was what Doreen surmised at the moment. Back then in the early eighties, diamonds were still a girl’s best friend, but Kelowna wouldn’t have been that large, so how much business would there have been for a prestigious diamond store?
However, the jewelry bag Millicent found contained more than just diamonds. Doreen studied the rest of the jewels, wondering what had happened back then. She did a search on the Abelman family and found Aretha and Reginald Abelman. Further research revealed that Reginald Abelman hadn’t lived that much longer than Aretha’s parents. He’d overdosed on drugs a few years later. Doreen frowned at that.
“That seems a little too convenient,” she muttered. She headed back into Aretha’s family history. She was twenty-eight at the time of her marriage and only thirty-eight when her husband died, so she would have been in her mid-thirties when the family business went under. So currently she would be seventy-five. Doreen sat back and smiled, reaching for her phone. “Good afternoon, Nan,” she said cheerfully.
“Well, it’s almost evening,” Nan said, with a happy lilt in her voice. “I just came in from lawn bowling. A lovely game.”
“Were you actually playing with the balls,” Doreen asked, “or were you just betting on who would win?”
“Both,” Nan said sternly. “It’s good exercise.”
“Good,” Doreen said. “I was really hoping you weren’t just betting against the winners.”
“No,” she said. “You’ve got to bet against the losers too.”
“If you say so,” Doreen said, rolling her eyes, because she knew Nan had never made a stupid bet in her life.
“I’m just about to head down for dinner,” she said, “unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“Oh, no,” Doreen said. “I’ll just sit here and have a sandwich at home.”
“Did you finish all that zucchini bread?”
Since the zucchini bread had been given to Doreen days before, and Mack had been to visit several times, it was long gone. “I did,” Doreen said, laughing, “but that’s okay. I’m happy to have a sandwich tonight.”
“You eat too many sandwiches,” Nan fretted.
“No, I don’t think so. Besides, I’m still not much of a cook yet.”
“I’ve got some of my favorite recipes hanging around here,” Nan said. “I couldn’t part with them when I left the house. I should just hand over the book to you. It’s not like I’m cooking much anymore.”
“If and when you’re ready to get rid of it,” Doreen said with a smile, “I shall be happy to have it.”
“Did you have a reason for calling? Otherwise I’ll go eat,” Nan said. “All that exercise has given me an appetite.”
“Right,” Doreen said. “I was just calling to ask if you know Aretha Abelman.”
“Aretha?” Nan pondered. “I know that name, but her last name is not Abelman.”
“So who’s Aretha?” Doreen asked.
“Her husband ran one of the little insurance companies around here,” Nan said.
“Oh, that makes sense. She probably remarried.”
“Yes,” Nan said, “She and Hobart were together for decades.”
As Doreen looked down at her notes, she realized that, even at thirty-five, decades into a second marriage was still quite possible. “Did she ever have a family?”
“No, it was