Deadly Cost of Goods

by Margaret Evans

  Rumors abounded regarding her sightings in the Old Library, one of the key reasons for its boarded-up windows and doors. No one could stop the younger town folk from trying to see her. Unfortunately, Laura knew Lorelei was not going to appear unless a Rage relative was there, as well. As long as neither Laura, nor her mother or Great-aunt Rose, was present, there would be no “sighting.” Still, the people came.

  Laura printed out several pictures of the Old Library and sent an email to Andrew Smedley to ask for a listing of all veterans from Raging Ford and in what wars or battles they had fought, as well as any current relatives he might be aware of still living in Raging Ford. Then she sent a second email to Denny Eldridge, the current “Pickens” of the Michael Pickens Photography Studio and asked if he had old pictures of the town and any veterans. She could stop by to get them for her town history booklet.

  Laura still didn’t know why the cat wanted her to look at the satellite images of the Old Library. She pulled them up on her laptop and noticed there were actually three of them, one taken at night. All were from the same angle, but she almost immediately spotted two things: In the night picture, there was clearly a light coming from below and visible through a skylight. Secondly, the boarding on the last window on the right rear side of the library looked as if it were in two slightly different positions in the two shots.

  She closed her eyes to think about where she recalled the street lights were in reference to the library but failed. An attempt to expand the view of the satellite image also failed, and then she tried to get a street view of the Old Library. There it was: the street light right next to the entrance to the parking lot.

  And it was lower than the height of the library roof.

  She pulled out her iPhone pictures she’d taken recently and confirmed the location of the street light.

  She texted Connor.

  We need to talk. Something sinister may be going on at the Old Library.

  But Empress Isabella wasn’t done with her just yet.

  The cat was sitting on the book boxes Laura had just bought from Peter Fulton and merrowed loudly, whipping her tail back and forth, until Laura sat down and began to look at them. Isabella jumped off the one box that Laura chose to open first. As she looked through the books, she picked up one by the binding because it was really heavy, and pieces of thick paper fluttered onto the rest of the books in the box.

  Library cards!

  This was a tremendous find. They were obviously from the old days. She looked at the names, how each one was printed with “Raging Ford Public Library” at the top, with a hand-typed book borrower’s name and a space for a signature below that. She marveled at the names she didn’t know, including one Darius Munley. But the last card she turned over in the stack belonged to—her breath caught.

  Lorelei Rage.

  Chapter 8

  By the time Connor arrived at Laura’s around dinner time, she was already upstairs looking at both the satellite photos and her iPhone shots on the giant screen TV. He texted her that he had arrived and punched in the security code then climbed the steps to her apartment above the shop just as she was squinting at one of the satellite photos.

  She barely greeted him but pointed out what she believed was a car close to the back of the building, partially hidden by the trees.

  “Look,” she said, using her cursor to show it to him.

  “Good to see you, too.”

  She jumped up and gave him a big hug and kiss. It had been so long since this morning.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a pretty amazing day. This is only the tip of the iceberg.”

  He kept his arm around her and stared at the screen.

  “Could be kids fooling around behind the building. I can send someone out there to take a look.”

  “Actually, it could be more than that. You may not want to send someone into what might turn out to be a firestorm just yet. Look at these two shots and see how the boarded up window has its board in two different places as if it’s been removed and put back.”

  He studied them.

  “It’s possible.”

  “And the clincher,” she said switching to the satellite shot of the light through the roof, side-by-side with the photo she took with her iPhone the other day.

  “What am I looking at? The light in the library?”

  “Both that and the height of the street light which is way lower than the height of the Old Library’s skylight not to mention it doesn’t even reach to the roof.”

  He thought for a moment, letting his arm loose from her.

  “That could be a glare from a jet in a landing pattern, a small, low-flying plane, or a chopper.”

  But he continued to stare at the pictures.

  “I’ll look into this quietly.”

  “Thank you. Hope you like leftovers.”

  * * *

  “And now for dessert,” Laura announced, bringing over a plate of brownies and a white envelope. “Wipe your hands before you open the envelope.”

  He slid out a small piece of cardboard wrapped in tissue paper, flipped the tissue up. His eyes grew big.

  “Where did you find this?”

  “In the first box of books I opened from Peter Fulton. There were several cards for other people, including Darius Munley.”

  He locked eyes with her.

  “Fulton certainly has treasures in his house,” he responded, looking back at the card before rewrapping it and sliding it back into the envelope. “What are you planning to do with it?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  “Try to remember to run it past me first, please.”

  She nodded.

  While Connor devoured the last of the butterscotch brownies, he asked her when she got the pictures with her phone.

  “On the way home from Opie’s a few weeks ago.”

  “You went to Opie’s?”

  She couldn’t figure out the look on his face.

  “Yes, why? Kelly and Erica took me there.”

  “I haven’t been there in years,” Connor responded, his eyes focused on a memory. “Ian took me shortly after you left Raging Ford with your great-aunt. He slipped me several swallows from his beer.”

  “Nobody noticed?”

  “Nobody notices anything at Opie’s. It’s not the best place to go unless you’re hiding something.”

  “Some of the people at the tables looked as if they’d been glued to their chairs for years.”

  “That’s what you do if you don’t want to attract attention: Act like you belong there. Didn’t Jenna go with you?”

  Laura shook her head and thought about Connor’s revelation a moment.

  “Jenna was too upset over the auction theft, but I don’t think Kelly or Erica know that about Opie’s. Or maybe Erica does. She’s the one who said nobody will notice us and we could talk freely.”

  “Why did you need that kind of setting?”

  “We just needed a place where no one would bother us and we could sit there as long as we wanted. We were trying to figure out how we could help Jenna after the auction items were stolen. We didn’t want people listening to us talk about the theft.”

  “Understood,” he said then his expression changed in a gentle warning. “Not a good place to go.”

  “What is a good place to go?”

  “If you want a place where you won’t be kicked out unless you buy cup after cup of coffee or a meal, Valencia is good, or Brandy’s at the edge of town. You will be noticed, but you won’t be bothered. There are other diners in the area, as well. All of your friends should know about them.”

  “Too bad,” she returned. “Opie’s is such a kitschy place and the food was so good. Or maybe I should ask you where not to go.”

  “The list is long, but Fred’s, Bob’s Biergarten, Mercy Tavern, and Elmo’s Eatery jump out at me, in addition to Opie’s.”

  “Okay.”

  He shifted feet.

  �
�Something else you wanted to know. I told you Sam is all in for the dunk tank, and now so is Mo. Sven just stared at me when I asked him, and then he put on his mirrored sunglasses and hat and walked away. Some of the staff laughed.”

  “You did say he wouldn’t go for it.”

  “Wait—I’m not finished. He went downstairs, was gone for about ten minutes, came back up, and asked the whole staff to come into the Comm Center. In front of everybody, he said he would do it if I wore my white glove for two weeks.”

  Fitzpatrick’s white, medicinal glove had hastened the healing of his right hand after a recent tussle with a meth-crazed lunatic. He had suffered no end of being likened to Mickey Mouse during the several weeks he was forced to wear it.

  Laura’s eyebrows shot up.

  “You gotta be kidding!”

  “No kidding.”

  She was about to tell him to do it, but she caught his look.

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  Her brows shot up even higher.

  “Why?”

  “Because he doesn’t think I’ll call his bluff.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth for a moment to prevent her laugh from leaking out.

  “This is a guy thing, right? It’s two stags smashing your antlers together.”

  Connor considered that image.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  She gave her head a quick shake.

  “Wow. Well, it would be great to have him in the dunk tank, but you have schedules to think about and officer coverage, and with Brianna pregnant and on desk duty, so I guess—”

  “Gonna do it.”

  She looked him in the eye and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m proud of you, Sergeant. It’s for a good cause. He won’t see it coming, and his pride will prevent him from backing out of the deal.”

  The grin on Connor’s face was all she needed.

  Chapter 9

  Justin Carlson stood at the bus stop, backpack over one shoulder, and pulled out his smart phone. He looked around and randomly strode in one of several possible directions, ending up, quite by coincidence, at the town center with Samuel Rage’s statue in the middle of a traffic circle. After taking several pictures from different angles and sides, as well as a shot of the engraved plate beneath the statue, he stopped to stare at the bronze figure.

  Samuel Rage.

  His ancestor.

  He felt only a mild, detached interest but decided this was indeed the day he was going to see his sister in her shop. Whether he spoke to her or not was a different story. The situation needed to be handled very carefully. If all he did was walk into the store, look around, and walk out again, it was still progress. He didn’t want to frighten her with the sudden appearance of a relative she didn’t know she had.

  It was mid-morning and Second Treasures would be open by now, so he turned in the direction of Taylor Street and walked several more blocks, noting how many little shops were sprinkled among the smaller homes on either side of the street. He liked the appeal of the town, the white picket fences with flowering vines and window boxes filled with blooms. His attention was so drawn to Raging Ford’s charm that he almost missed the police car heading his way down the street and the husky police officer behind the wheel—the very officer he had recently met at the hotel outside Duluth.

  He ducked into the first shop on his left.

  As his eyes adjusted from the sunlight to the indoor lighting, he realized that a number of customers were staring at him, some of them very pregnant. He glanced at the merchandise and saw baby clothes, furniture and supplies everywhere. Reaching into one of the farthest corners of his memory, he recalled one of his female engineer co-workers was expecting a baby. He walked up to the counter.

  “I hope you can help me. One of my co-workers is going to have a baby, and the office is giving her a baby shower. I don’t know anything about babies and I’d like to get her something basic but nice.” He hoped he would be back in time for the party, but if not, he would mail it to the shower organizer. The email with the invitation and its information was still in his inbox.

  The lady behind the counter gave him an understanding nod.

  “Of course, let’s go look around and I’ll show you some basics. Is it her first baby?”

  “Yes,” he replied, wondering if it was or not.

  “Where are you from?” she asked in pleasant conversation.

  He was not used to questions such as these, but it was now growing obvious to him that in a small town he was always going to be identified as a stranger and asked a lot of questions, the very least of which was his origin. While Mankato wasn’t as big as Duluth, it was still more than twice the population of Raging Ford.

  “I’m from Mankato originally, but I’ve been doing some traveling to see more of Minnesota. Raging Ford looked inviting. So I stopped in, walked a ways, and saw this shop. Two birds with one stone, you know?”

  She laughed.

  “Smart move. Be sure you get to see the botanical gardens on Briar Patch Court. They’re famous in this area and beautiful—worth the trip. This is the perfect time of the year with everything in bloom.”

  “Thanks, I will. I got some good pictures of Samuel Rage’s statue.”

  “It’s a nice day for your walk. Does your co-worker know the gender of her baby?”

  “If she does, she hasn’t shared it,” he said. At least, he didn’t remember her telling them.

  Then the sales associate proceeded to show him some basics, undershirts, “onesies,” blankets, and bibs. He didn’t have experience with most of these items, and chose a white baby blanket with yellow bears bouncing across it. They returned to the counter to process the purchase.

  As Justin was turning to leave the store, he spotted a large shadow against the front window and gave a start. It was the very cop he had made an attempt to avoid, the one he’d run into at the hotel. He gave the officer a big smile and a brief wave then headed toward the door.

  Outside, he offered his hand to the cop.

  “Corporal Mortensen, nice to see you again.”

  Sven gave him a quick shake.

  “Justin Carlson, right? Still on your walkabout?” he asked, glancing at the baby shop and down at Justin’s bag.

  Justin nodded, surprised the officer remembered his whole name, but cops would be good at that, he guessed.

  “Trying to hit as many small towns as possible. This one looked very friendly.”

  “Been walking around a lot today?”

  “Oh, yes, Corporal,” he responded, pulling out his iPhone and opening to the pictures. “I got some nice shots of the guy I guess they named the town after.”

  He offered his phone to Mortensen. Too late, he realized his iPhone automatically arranged photos by date in chronological order. The bank of pictures just above the statue of Samuel Rage were some of the surrounding countryside, and directly above that were the date-stamped pictures he took of the car belonging to the man who had recently kidnapped Laura Keene, with the zoom shots on the license plate. It was all of the information that would label him as the anonymous caller to 911 about the kidnapping. He held his breath and his heart pounded.

  Apparently, the officer hadn’t noticed and handed back the phone.

  “You expecting a baby?” Sven asked, nodding at the store, a smile teasing his mouth.

  “No, actually my co-worker back in Mankato is, and when I saw this shop, I jumped into it before I could forget. Her shower is in a few weeks.”

  “Going to make it back before then?”

  “I don’t know,” Justin said with honesty. “I’ll probably package it up and mail it to the woman who organized the party.”

  Sven nodded.

  “So your co-worker is an engineer, too?”

  Justin brightened at the turn in the conversation.

  “My company hires as many women as they can get who are qualified. Women make up about thirty percent of the entire workforce.”r />
  “That’s impressive. What’s the name of your company?”

  “eRg, with the e and g lower case and the R capitalized.”

  “And they’re based in Mankato?”

  “Yes. Think I have a business card here.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a card, handed it to Mortensen.

  As they parted on what Justin would normally have considered friendly terms, he realized that this peace officer was going to contact his employer, completely understandable in the current world climate. Good thing he was considered one of their brightest and they believed he was on a genuine walkabout through the state. He felt calmer and continued down to Taylor Street, taking a right toward Second Treasures.

  Checking in the windows of all the stores and shops along Taylor Street, Justin took some particular time looking at the floral arrangements in the Rollins Florist window next door to his sister’s shop. When he moved to Second Treasures, he saw how busy it was through the front door window. He appreciated the order and balance of the attractive store window Laura had designed. All was patriotic and tempting, yet carefully measured and placed. He nodded his approval.

  Then Justin pulled open the door and entered the lively crowd jamming her shop. Children were running around with flags in their hands and red-white-and-blue wax teeth in their mouths. There was lots of noise and laughter. He waited until some of the patrons left before he looked over the merchandise and selected a set of four seashell-print coasters and joined a queue at the counter behind several people waiting to pay for their wares.

  His heart began to pound as the line shortened to one, and then he was on stage.

  Justin looked his sister in the eye for the first time in his life and was greeted with a smile that made him feel comfortable and welcome.

  Chapter 10

  Valencia Café across the street from Laura’s shop seemed to be the place of choice for initial committee meetings for all town holiday events, and mostly always occurring at lunchtime. While Rina Holm might like to think of the St. Patrick’s Day events as the biggest thing to happen every year, it was really the Heritage Days events that overshadowed everything else throughout the year until Christmas.