by Ada Bell
A thought struck me. “Just how badly did she want to marry Earl?”
His eyes widened. “Do you think she killed him because he refused to marry her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. All I know is, someone had a motive. Someone killed Earl, and it wasn’t Olive.” I shook my head and sighed. “Let’s get back to work. Once I learn to use my powers, I’ll be able to figure out how to help.”
Quickly, I filled him in on what happened when I tried on the ring, my subsequent conversation with Olive, my efforts to find a reasonable explanation online, my attempts to “read” Earl’s statuette, the textbook, and the vision I’d just had. By the time I finished, he had such a mixed look of awe and wonder on his face, I expected him to either run away or kiss me.
“This never happened before you visited Olive’s shop? You had no idea you could do this?”
“Nothing I can think of.” I shrugged. “My parents were really into modern stuff. We didn’t have any antique furniture. As far as I remember, we never visited second-hand shops. No yard sales, no used clothing stores, not even Goodwill. Not…once.”
Now that I heard the words, that sounded very odd indeed. Who went their whole life without visiting a garage sale? Especially growing up in the suburbs, where we drove by them practically every weekend in the summer. Dad always said we had enough stuff, that we didn’t need more. But suddenly, I wondered if there was more to it.
“You didn’t have any stuff in your house that belonged to someone else? Nothing passed on from a grandparent or a great-aunt?”
I thought for a minute. “Not that I can think of. My aunts and uncles are all alive. My grandmother died when I was a kid. Mom put her stuff in storage right away. She said—.”
Realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Let me guess. She didn’t want you to touch any of it.”
“She said I wasn’t ready for the pain that would come with being around things owned by someone I loved so much. I always thought she was talking about grief.”
“She could have been,” he said. “It would’ve been painful to relieve your grandmother’s memories.”
For the first time, I wondered if Mom shared my powers. If not, how did she know? Was I hit by lightning as a baby? Olive had said that powers sometimes manifested when a person turned twenty-one, but maybe it was genetic. Did Kevin know anything?
Maybe it was some mixture of getting saddled with a weird name and turning twenty-one, and my brother escaped only because he’d had the good sense to get a name change.
Or, you know, maybe I’d been watching too many conspiracy movies.
With a moan, I sank back into my chair and buried my head in my hands. “None of this makes any sense.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Hooooooooooooooooow?” It was more a moan than a word.
A long silence followed my proclamation. I’d have thought Rusty abandoned me, except the bell over the door didn’t ring. There was no sneaking in or out of Missing Pieces. Finally, he snapped his fingers, and I raised my head.
“Okay, I’ve got it! You’re like science right?” The fact that he remembered this random fact from our date brought a small smile to my face. It wasn’t a major topic of conversation.
“Yeah. I’m getting a degree in molecular biology.”
“Excellent. Let’s do some experiments.”
Right. That made perfect sense, but things had been so weird this week, it hadn’t occurred to me. “To test the limits of my powers?”
“Exactly.” He gestured around us. “You’re in an antique shop. Everything here has belonged to someone else at one point. So let’s touch some stuff and see what happens. I’ll help.”
“You want me to walk around the store while the owner’s not here and play with all the items we’re trying to sell? For science.”
“For science!”
When he put it like that, how could I refuse? Especially with that impish glint in his eyes. This could be fun. “Okay? Where do we start?”
After some thought, I wandered over to the clothing section. Olive had a huge selection of antique clothes, but I hadn’t spent much time there. There was nothing from my lifetime, and I tended to wear casual, comfortable clothes. I didn’t have a lot of use for a flapper dress. But as I looked, I made a mental note to do my Halloween shopping here from now on. We had some nice stuff in our stock, and I probably got a discount.
I should find out about that, actually.
With a deep breath, I reached out and touched the item nearest me, a pin-striped men’s suit that looked like something Al Capone would wear. Nothing happened. I tried one dress, then a high-necked blouse. My hand skimmed the racks, touching everything. Nada.
Frustrated, I stomped my foot. “This isn’t helping Olive!”
“Hold on,” Rusty said. “Your first vision was when you wore the ring, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t feel anything from just picking it up?”
“No, but I put it on pretty much right away.”
“True. Okay, but then you held the statuette of Oshun and felt nothing, right? You thought you were powers were gone.”
“Right. I didn’t have another vision. Not until I started flipping through the textbook.” A squeal escaped me. I hugged Rusty with all my might. “You’re a genius!”
“Heh. I haven’t said anything yet.”
“You think I need to use an object to get a vision from it.”
He nodded. “It’s only a hypothesis, but yeah.”
“Right.” It occurred to me that I still clutched his sides. Clearing my throat, I stepped back. Way back. “Sorry. Okay, let’s perform an experiment. I need to try the clothes on.”
“Here. This looks about your size.”
I turned to look at where Rusty pointed and immediately, my hands went to my mouth. A gorgeous wedding dress that had to be from the 1920s, with an empire waist and folds of lace that fell elegantly to the ground. “Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to see some poor woman who died at her wedding.”
“You could have a happy vision, you know. Most people have pleasant memories of their wedding day.”
True, but so far I’d only seen people die. Well, I didn’t know what happened to the textbook owner, but it had looked like a lot of drugs. Doubtfully, I said, “I hope you’re right.”
“Come on, whoever wore this dress probably died seventy years later. Most items in these places come from estates.”
“You know, that doesn’t make me feel any better.” But now that the dress had caught my attention, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. For some reason, I wanted to wear it. Wanted to see how I looked with the snug bodice and capped sleeves. I tried one last argument. “It’s got about four thousand buttons up the back.”
“I’ll help you. Come on. Let’s try it.”
Grabbing the dress, I went into the fitting area to try it on. Really, it would fit over my leggings just fine, but if I were going to do this, might as well get the full effect. The “room” was basically two square feet with a chair in one corner, sectioned off from the rest of the store by an old curtain.
I stepped out of my boots, whipped my sweater off, and shimmied my pants down my legs. A shiver went down my spine. Whether from the cool air in the room or the importance of what we were attempting to do, I didn’t know.
A moment later, the silk whispered over my head, falling to the floor. The full-length (also antique, fifty percent off) mirror was in the main area, so I couldn’t see how I looked, but it fit my upper body like a second skin. A glance down revealed cleavage I’d never known I could possess. I should see if Olive sold other corset tops, if this was the effect. But other than a sense of wonder, I felt nothing.
Peeking around the dressing room curtain, I motioned for Rusty to come button me up. Then I spun around while he closed the back of the gown for me. His hot breath touched my neck, his hands felt comfort
ing against my back. This was the closest I’d stood to a non-relative in over a year.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what happened, why he never called me after our date. But now wasn’t the time. First I needed to find out who killed Earl and get Olive out of jail, then I could worry about my love life.
Correction: first I needed to have a vision.
Rusty slid the final button through the hole, locking the gown into place. I shook out the folds of the skirt, then twirled around.
A strange man knelt in front of me, holding out a ring. A gold band with an opal. A sense of love and wonder came over me. A voice said, “yes!”. A voice that came from my own mouth. Then everything blurred together.
When I came back to my senses, Rusty cradled me in his arms. We still stood in the doorway of the dressing room. “Whoa there. Are you okay?”
I sniffled and wiped my eyes. “I saw something, but it wasn’t the owner’s death. It was the day her husband proposed. He had such love on his face. It was beautiful.”
“Who was he?”
A very lucky man? No one ever put that expression on my face. I shrugged the thought away. “No idea. He’s probably not even still alive. But now we have data!”
“Great. What do we know?”
“The hypothesis was, when I handled certain objects, I could see things about the prior owner. With the ring, I saw the owner’s death.”
“Do you think the dress’s owner is still alive?”
I shook my head. “No idea. I’m afraid wedding dress fashion eras is way outside my area of expertise. This dress could have been worn two hundred years ago or last Friday.”
“I don’t suppose it has an invitation in the pocket?”
“Wedding dresses, sadly, don’t have pockets,” I said. “Neither, for that matter, do most of my pants. Olive would probably know the time period, if I could talk to her.”
Rusty stepped back, examining the dress critically. “It’s turning yellow in places. I’d guess that it’s pretty old.”
“But what does that mean?”
“If the dress’s original wearer died, then you’re seeing something other than deaths. That information could be useful to us.”
I sighed. “But for now, we have more questions than answers. Here, unbutton me so I can take it off. I need to try something else.”
The two of us searched the store, looking for any items that might give us more information. I wrapped a gorgeous purple boa around my neck. Immediately, my ears filled with swing music. I grabbed Rusty and started moving my hips. He laughed, but after a moment followed my lead. We danced until the song ended and restarted, when I realized that this interlude might last forever if I didn’t take the boa off. Too bad. Fun, but not getting us any closer to finding Earl’s murderer. Some objects told me nothing.
At least it seemed clear that I wasn’t just seeing people’s final moments, unless the boa’s owner went out while dancing. Not a bad way to die, I supposed, but unlikely. Maybe I was seeing powerful memories, moments with special meaning to the owner, rather than just the ends of their lives.
At one point I shook a baby’s rattle. Instantly, cramping overtook my body. I bent forward, gasping for breath. Everything hurt. I’d never felt such intense pressure in my abdomen. A scream escaped me.
Rusty raced over and yanked the rattle out of my hand. “What happened?”
“Umm…I think I just went into labor.”
“Whoa.”
Yeah, that about summed it up. I couldn’t even respond, still doubled over with the spasms. He helped me over to the table, settling me into the chair as if I were made of china. Slowly, the pain subsided.
Finally, I said, “If I ever have kids, remind me to ask for an epidural.”
“Check. Sorry. Let’s try something else.”
After that, I needed a break. It had been two hours, and I was exhausted. Rusty was enthusiastic, and it was great to have someone I could share things with, but he didn’t know any more about any of this stuff than I did. We’d tested and retested our hypothesis, but there still wasn’t enough information to reach any conclusions. I still didn’t know how to call a vision from an object if it didn’t send me one.
Only one thing was clear: I needed to talk to Olive.
Chapter 14
About an hour after Rusty left the shop, Sam showed up to relieve me of duty. He looked shell-shocked. Like he’d woken up this morning and gone to work as usual, never suspecting that he’d have to drive a hundred miles to visit his mother in jail after she’d been arrested for a murder she didn’t commit. My heart went out to the poor guy. The man he loved like a father was dead, and police thought his mother did it. I ached to give him a hug, but we were virtual strangers and he was my boss’s son. It would be too weird.
“Hey,” I said as he dropped into a seat at the table by the register. “How’s your mom?”
“Scared. Confused. Pretty much the way you’d feel if you were in jail on suspicion of murder.”
Fair enough. I would be all those things but also livid at the injustice. “I just don’t understand what’s happening. Why would anyone want to frame your mother?”
He sighed. “Probably the most obvious reason is so they don’t get caught?”
My mind went back to the conversation between Mayor Banister and Sheriff Andrews. There were many reasons to arrest someone. What I didn’t get is why they came after Olive. “Does your mom have any enemies? Anyone who would want to see her take the fall?”
“I don’t think so. Thelma seems convinced that Mom is guilty, but I don’t know that she’d set her up.”
“This whole thing smells rotten,” I said. “I wish I’d found the broken lock on the back door sooner. Then at least there would be a record of it. Now if we report it, it looks like we broke the lock ourselves to explain how Earl’s pan got in the store.”
“Yeah. I’ll take some pictures, just in case, but fix it myself.”
“The other thing is, Sheriff Matthews found that pan in like two minutes. He must’ve known right where it was. It should’ve taken hours to search the entire store.”
Sam looked around the store for a long moment before replying. Not wanting to rush his thought process, I waited. Then he said, “You’re right. Virtually anything could be hidden in this place. Aside from the fact that the shelves and drawers are overflowing, there are at least a dozen trunks, plus a bunch of armoires.”
“Fourteen trunks, seven armoires.” I blushed at his inquiring glance. “I counted them while dusting earlier. We didn’t have any customers.”
“Heh. I used to do that.” A dreamy look came over him, as if remembering the old days of working here with Olive. A lance hit me in the gut. It must be hard for him to be here, knowing she was in jail. Heck, it was hard for me, and I barely knew her.
That reminded me, I needed to get going if I wanted to finish my investigating before dinner. But first, “Did you meet the lawyer? Jake Something?”
“Yeah, he showed up just as I was leaving. Mama and Mom were going to talk to him together. The lawyer wants her to take a lie detector test, but she doesn’t want to.”
“Lie detectors are bad science,” I said. “Anyone gets nervous being hooked up to machines and interrogated.”
“Yeah. And everyone’s got things to hide.” Our eyes met, and in that moment, I was certain he knew exactly what Olive was hiding, not just from the police, but from most of the town. The answer was written all over his face.
It wasn’t my place to ask. If I was wrong, Olive would never forgive me for telling her son about her powers. Once we found the real murderer, I’d urge her to have a long talk with her family. Right around the time I talked to mine.
“You’re a good son.”
“Thanks. She’s a great mom.” He sighed. “I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang around here all night.”
In truth, the t
hought of hanging around the best-looking guy I knew on a Friday evening sounded a lot more exciting than my usual weekend. We could get to know each other and I could comfort him…Unfortunately, I had things to do.
I didn’t want him to think I was blowing him off, even if it was completely inappropriate to flirt with someone right after their mom got arrested for murder. “I’d stay, but I have plans with Kevin and Kyle later. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Do you mind opening?”
Even if I did, I’d never say so under the circumstances. “No problem.”
Part of me wished he’d asked me to stay, but truly, I had places to be.
First stop: Olive.
I’d hoped Officer Matthews would be on duty at the police station when I arrived, but no such luck. When I shut my umbrella and entered the front door, Sheriff Matthews stood at the front counter. An open door led to an empty office, probably belonging to the sheriff. Behind him were two desks: one so clean it might be unoccupied, and the other looking like a hurricane hit it.
On this side of the counter, talking to Sheriff Matthews, I found the last person in town I wanted to see: Thelma Reyes. Part of me still blamed her for Olive being arrested, even though I knew her rumor-spreading shouldn’t have an impact on law enforcement. Mayor Banister was at least as much to blame, but Thelma made an easier target.
That woman showed up everywhere. She really took her job as town busybody seriously. Did she have powers, too? Like the ability to teleport? For the first time I wondered if she had a job or if soap opera stars made enough to retire for life in their late forties. My first instinct was to turn around and come back later. But then something hit me.
Thelma Reyes, owner of the massive handkerchief with the letter T on the front. The same item I tripped over outside of Missing Pieces, hours after police found the supposed murder weapon inside the store. And a broken lock on the door. The woman who claimed to be “practically engaged” to Earl, despite evidence to the contrary. She had access to his house. And her only alibi was that she was alone in her kitchen, cooking. She looked guiltier by the second.