by Sarah Fox
They were only playing for small amounts, but it looked like she’d managed to win several dollars.
“Beginner’s luck,” Brett grumbled.
“Which I don’t want to wear off.” Chloe scooped up the money. “That’s why I’m bowing out now.”
“You can’t do that,” Brett protested. “You have to give us a chance to win our money back.”
Chloe smiled sweetly. “Maybe another time.”
The guys muttered half-heartedly as she left the kitchen table and came over to join me on the couch, where I was reading a mystery novel. My orange tabby cat, Flapjack, was asleep on my lap. Bentley, the goldendoodle Brett and I had rescued shortly after I’d moved to town, was curled up on his bed across the room, snoring quietly.
As Chloe sat down next to me, I tucked a bookmark between the pages of my paperback and set it on the coffee table. “You know they’ll never let you play with them again, right?”
“That’s okay,” she said, unconcerned. “It really was beginners’ luck. I’d be pretty much guaranteed to lose any future games.” She lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “And I don’t like losing to my brother.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure that goes both ways.” This time I lowered my voice. “How are things going with you and Kyle?”
A hint of pink showed on Chloe’s cheeks. “Really good.” She glanced over at her boyfriend, a smile lighting up her face. “I’ve never felt this way about any of the other guys I’ve dated. He makes me so happy.”
I threw my arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “I’m so happy for you.”
She and Kyle had started dating shortly before Christmas, but they’d known each other since they were kids. I was glad that their relationship kept getting stronger as the weeks passed. Chloe deserved a good guy, and Kyle, a sheriff’s deputy, definitely qualified.
“What are you two whispering about over there?” Brett called out from the kitchen table.
“None of your business,” Chloe said, her smile transforming into a sassy one.
Brett was about to say something in response when Lonny Barron spoke up. “How are things going at the museum?”
“Moving along,” Brett said. “The renovations are pretty much finished inside, except for refinishing the floors in two of the rooms upstairs. I’ve got the yard all fixed up now.”
Manny Lopez, who’d recently started working for Brett, fanned his cards out in his hand, studying them. “I rode my bike past there last night. It looks great.”
“When’s the reopening party?” Chloe asked.
“At the end of the month,” I said. “On the final evening of Wild West Days. Evangeline Oldershaw-Hobbs stopped by to talk to Jane about it yesterday. Apparently, Evangeline is paying for the party and wants to have a hand in organizing it.”
Chloe raised her eyebrows. “I bet that didn’t go over well with Jane.”
“She didn’t seem too pleased,” I said, remembering the way Jane had rolled her eyes. “I figured that was because Evangeline was a bit… overwhelming.”
“That’s one word for it,” Lonny said with a grin as he added some money to the small pile in the middle of the table.
Chloe stroked the fur on Flapjack’s head. “It’s probably partly that, but both those women like to be in charge and have a habit of stepping on other people’s toes. I can’t imagine the two of them getting along.”
“I haven’t had any problems with Jane myself,” I said. “But I overheard a woman today who didn’t seem to like her much. She thought she should have been awarded the promotion Jane got at the community center, and she seemed to think Jane was interfering with the planning for Wild West Days.”
Chloe twisted her long blond hair and flicked it over her shoulder. “I bet that was Adya Banerjee. She works at the community center, and she’s on the planning committee for Wild West Days.”
“Yeehaw, me hearties!” Manny bellowed from the kitchen.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “I think you’re getting your cowboy talk and pirate talked mixed up.”
“Pirate Days—that should be an event too,” Kyle said. He shifted his gaze away from his cards long enough to send a grin Chloe’s way.
She smiled in return. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
The guys returned their attention to their game, and Chloe got back to our conversation.
“Adya might not like Jane,” she said, “but she’s usually nice.”
I tucked my feet up on the couch, careful not to jostle Flapjack too much. “Maybe Jane rubs some people the wrong way, but I don’t mind her. Whatever differences she and Evangeline have between them, I hope they can work together to get the museum’s party organized.”
“I hope so too,” Chloe said, an ominous note creeping into her voice, “but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
Chapter Four
The Flip Side was closed on Monday, as usual, so I started the day with a long run along the beach. Bentley kept me company, although he didn’t always keep pace with me. He liked to stop and sniff at driftwood and clumps of seaweed that had washed ashore. Then he’d charge off along the water’s edge, passing me with ease before stopping again to hunt out more interesting smells.
The fresh air and exercise left me feeling energized. After a quick shower, I headed over to the museum to see if there was anything I could help with. I recalled Jane mentioning that she wouldn’t be working at the community center until the afternoon that day, so she’d have time to spend at the museum. I wasn’t sure what time she planned to show up, but I figured there was a good chance she was already there. She answered the front door within seconds of my knock, proving me right. She seemed glad to see me and quickly put me to work, first moving furniture with Frankie Zhou’s help and later shifting some of the archive boxes onto the recently installed shelves.
After hearing about Jane from others, I noticed her bossiness more than I had before. She told us what to move, where to move it, and sometimes how to move it, but she never lifted a finger to help. I didn’t want other people’s opinions of her to color my own, so I tried not to hold it against her. For all I knew, she could have had a bad back and wasn’t able to lift boxes or shift furniture.
About an hour later, my own back was beginning to protest. I stepped out into the hallway, wanting to get out of Jane’s line of sight so I could rest for a moment. I’d learned that if anyone seemed idle in her presence, she’d quickly find a way to make them busy.
I stretched my arms above my head and then let them drop to my sides. As I shook them out, the back door opened, letting in a shaft of bright sunlight. Dean Vaccarino, the man who was refinishing the floors, sauntered in, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
“Morning,” I said, trying not to let my wariness show.
I’d met Dean on the first day I’d volunteered to help with the museum’s move. He’d given me the creeps then, and nothing had changed. He acknowledged my greeting with a barely perceptible nod, his eyes appraising me in a way that made my skin crawl.
To my relief, Jane appeared in the hallway, diverting his attention. “Oh, good. You’re here. You’ll be able to finish sanding the floors today, right?”
“Sure,” he said in a lazy drawl.
“Let’s go up and have a look at the state of things.” Jane didn’t wait for any agreement, already leading the way to the stairs.
Dean followed after her, in no hurry. He gave me a last long look, accompanied by a hint of a smirk, as he passed by me.
Once he was out of sight, I made a face and rubbed my arms, as if that could rid me of the creepy feeling he’d left on my skin. It didn’t work all that well. At least I didn’t have to spend any real time with him. Most of my volunteering shifts were spent working with Frankie or Jane. Frankie was a quiet guy and not all that easy to get to know, but he seemed nice. I suspected the r
eason he was spending so much time at the museum was that he had a crush on Jane, even though she was likely several years older than him.
I returned to the archive room and worked with Frankie for a while longer, placing boxes on the shelves in the order Jane had requested. In time, Dean faded from my thoughts, even though I could hear the floor sander he was using upstairs. Jane soon came down to check on our work. She scrutinized everything with sharp eyes, but fortunately had no complaints.
Once we had all the boxes of archives on the shelves, I slipped down the hall to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. The window over the sink offered a view of the backyard, where the grass was neatly trimmed, and the flower beds weeded, thanks to Brett. As I stood there sipping my water, a familiar red Ferrari drove along the back alley and pulled up outside the gate.
It wasn’t hard to guess who was about to pay a visit to the museum.
Sure enough, Evangeline got out of the passenger seat. This time, Richard stayed in the vehicle, leaving Evangeline to head this way on her own. I wondered if I should warn Jane but decided to stay put. Evangeline had almost reached the back porch, and maybe Jane was expecting her.
I refilled my water glass from the kitchen tap as the back door opened.
“Hellooo! Jane!” Evangeline’s voice rang out through the Victorian.
I winced at the shrill sound. It wouldn’t have surprised me if even Dean heard her over the noise of the floor sander.
“I’m in the office,” Jane called back, not so loudly and without a shred of enthusiasm.
Evangeline strutted off down the corridor without a single glance in my direction.
A plate of oatmeal cookies sat on the counter, baked and brought over the day before by one of the neighbors. I knew they were meant for the volunteers, so I helped myself to one. I was ready for a snack, but most of all, I wasn’t ready to join Jane and Evangeline. For a second, I considered slipping quietly out of the museum and heading home, but I didn’t want to leave without letting Jane know that I was going.
I lingered in the kitchen, daring to hope that things were going fairly smoothly in the other room. After all, Jane had managed to be mostly civil to Evangeline when she stopped by two days earlier, or at least she had in the short time before I left with Brett.
Evangeline’s voice drifted my way, though I couldn’t hear what she was saying—until she raised her voice a few minutes later.
“Do I have to remind you who’s paying for this party?” She sounded haughty and annoyed.
“You’ve already done that many times over,” Jane said, her voice rising in volume to match Evangeline’s.
“You act like you own this museum, but really you’re just standing in for Nancy Welch. Temporarily.”
“And you act like you own this town,” Jane shot back. “When really, everyone thinks you’re ridiculous!”
I could hear Evangeline’s huff of indignation from the kitchen.
“I’ve done nothing but good for this town,” she said. “I’ve half a mind to take back my offer to pay for the party, but I won’t because that would disappoint the town, and the rest of the town doesn’t deserve to be punished because you’re an insufferable control freak.”
I crept closer to the corridor, wondering if I would have to intervene to prevent a brawl. As I peeked around the corner, Evangeline stormed out into the hallway.
When she’d almost reached the back door, she came to an abrupt stop and spun around to face Jane, her head held high. “I’ll have the caterer contact you. I’m going over the menu with her soon.”
“I’m capable of lining up a caterer,” Jane said, standing in the middle of the hallway.
Even from where I stood, I could see the storminess in her gray eyes.
“I’ve already booked this one,” Evangeline said. “The same one who will be catering my upcoming charity gala. If you fight me on this any further, Jane, I’ll have to go to the Board.”
“You don’t want to do that.” Jane spoke calmly now, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. “I know things about you, Evangeline. Things you wouldn’t want getting out. Your precious reputation might get tarnished.”
Evangeline stared at her. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about last October,” Jane said. “At the Sea Spray Cottage Resort in Port Angeles.”
Despite all the makeup Evangeline wore, I could tell that her face had gone pale. A second later, her cheeks flushed, and her blue eyes flashed with anger.
“It’s never advisable to threaten an Oldershaw. Anyone who does lives to regret it.” She pierced Jane with one last glare and then stormed out the door. It slammed shut behind her.
I returned to the sink so I could see out the window. Evangeline stomped down the walkway to the back gate, throwing it open with such force that it nearly got knocked off its hinges. She climbed into the Ferrari, and it zoomed off down the lane.
Jane threw her hands in the air. “That woman is intolerable!” She marched off in the opposite direction, toward the front of the house.
I wanted to let her know I was leaving for the day, but I decided to give her a few minutes to cool off first. I was afraid of the reception I might get right at the moment.
Frankie poked his head into the kitchen a moment later as I washed up my water glass. “Is the coast clear now?” he asked.
“Seems so,” I said. “You weren’t stuck in the office with them, I hope.”
“No way.” He was clearly horrified by the mere thought. “I was upstairs with Dean. I decided to hide out there while the battle raged. Cowardly, I know.”
“I’d say it was smart, not cowardly. Where’s Jane now?”
He shrugged. “I’ll go find her.”
I almost called out to him not to bother, but maybe he wanted to find her for his own reasons. After drying my glass and putting it back in the cupboard, I made my way down the hall toward the front of the house, where I could hear Jane’s and Frankie’s voices.
Before I reached the foyer, the front door burst open. Angus Achenbach, the man who’d made a scene at The Flip Side on the weekend, stood in the doorway, backlit by the bright sunshine. His thinning hair stood up on end as if it had been ruffled by the spring breeze. The intensity of his glower nearly sent me back a step.
“Where’s Jane?” He shot the words at me, his voice almost a growl.
Jane appeared in the arched doorway that led to one of the rooms off the foyer. “I’m right here, Angus.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I have every right to be here.”
The gentle, sweet-scented breeze that drifted in through the open door provided a stark contrast to his hostile demeanor.
“You don’t, actually.” Jane sounded matter-of-fact, but I thought I detected a hint of wariness in her eyes. “This house is the museum’s private property.”
“You and your ridiculous museum!” Angus sneered. “This house is rightfully mine!”
Jane let out a long-suffering sigh. “So you told the court, but the judge didn’t agree with you, remember? Gwyneth wanted the house to belong to the museum after she died, and now it does. If you keep up this infantile behavior, Angus, I’ll have to get a restraining order.”
Angus’s upper lip curled back, and his nostrils flared. He resembled a wild and ferocious animal preparing to attack.
Frankie appeared from behind Jane, stopping by her side, his muscles tense. Although he had a wiry build, I knew from helping him move furniture that he didn’t lack strength. He’d likely have no trouble taking on Angus, who carried several extra pounds and didn’t strike me as the least bit athletic.
“Everything all right here?” he asked, flicking his gaze Jane’s way before staring hard at Angus.
“You stay out of this!” Angus turned on Jane again.
“My aunt left you this house because you bamboozled her before she died. She wasn’t in her right mind, and you took advantage of that. You can stand there and threaten me with your restraining order, but I’ll be the one who gets the last laugh. Just you wait and see.”
Frankie took a step toward him but didn’t have a chance to do anything. Angus turned around and thudded his way out the front door, his feet pounding against the boards of the porch. He left the door open behind him, and I heard him bellow at a rollerblading kid to get out of his way before he disappeared down the street.
Jane released another loud and dramatic sigh. It was only then that I realized I’d been standing frozen in the same spot since Angus had appeared in the doorway.
“Are you all right, Jane?” Frankie asked, his dark eyes full of worry.
She waved off his concern. “I’m fine. Don’t mind Angus. He’s always having a tantrum about something. He’ll get over it.”
She returned to the front room, and Frankie followed her.
I wasn’t so sure that Jane was right. Angus struck me as the type of person who could hold onto a grudge like a dog with a bone, and I couldn’t help but worry that he might turn out to be far more of a problem than Jane thought.
Chapter Five
The Flip Side and life, in general, kept me so busy that I didn’t return to the museum until Saturday afternoon. I’d heard that all of the renovations were now complete and that Jane and some of her helpers set up most of the displays. I wanted to get a quick peek at what the place looked like now that everything was coming together.
I didn’t go empty-handed. When I closed up the pancake house, we had four maple pecan sticky buns left over—Ivan and Tommy had made an extra batch to keep up with the demand—so I put two in one paper bag to take home to Brett and two in another bag to take to Jane.
I made my way across town on foot, enjoying the beautiful afternoon. I admired several blooming rhododendrons during my walk, including one in front of the museum with bright pink flowers. Port Townsend’s annual Rhody Festival would be taking place soon, shortly before Wildwood Cove’s Wild West Days. I’d never been to the festival, but I knew it was popular.