Treasure Uncovered (Bellingwood #3)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "What? You're setting me up on a date with someone from Iowa?"

  "Let's not call it a date," Polly laughed. "Let’s call it four people going out to dinner. He's terrific and I know you two will enjoy each other. That way ... okay, it's a date. What do you think?"

  "I'm game for anything. Does he know about this yet?"

  "No, not really," Polly snorted. "I should probably call him and ask, but I wanted to check with you before I said anything. Just a second."

  She stepped back through Nan's stall and walked into the main alley of the barn to dial her phone. "Mark?"

  "What's up, Polly? Is there a problem?"

  "No, everything's fine. I was wondering if you were busy for dinner tomorrow night."

  "Umm, aren't you dating Henry?"

  "Stop it. I have a friend in town from Boston and thought it would be fun if the four of us went out to dinner."

  "You are setting me up on a blind date?"

  "Maybe?"

  "Is this what all those questions about Sylvie were about?"

  "Maybe? So, will you?"

  He was quiet long enough that Polly said, "Did I lose you?"

  "No, I'm still here. I'm wondering if this is as strange as it sounds."

  "It's no big deal. Come on. Say yes."

  "I can't say no to you. I'll go."

  "Thank you, Mark. I'll text you details. See you tomorrow!"

  She slipped her phone back in her pocket and walked outside. "He's on. This will be fun. So, now that I'm thinking about food, I'm hungry. Are you ready to go for lunch?"

  Sal slipped out of the work boots and put her shoes back on. "What do you want me to do with these?"

  "Let's leave them here. I don't know why I hadn't in the first place," Polly said.

  They walked to the parking lot and got in Polly's truck. She drove around a little bit, showing Sal the little town she now called home and then turned onto the main street going through the downtown area.

  "Oh, it's so quaint!" Sal exclaimed.

  "Don't let them hear you say that, okay? People work in these shops and live here."

  Sal pursed her lips. "I'll be good. But, this is wonderful! And why am I not surprised that nearly every other vehicle is a pick-up truck?"

  "Oh, I can hardly wait to hear what you have to say about the diner. Please be good when you're in there, alright?"

  Polly parked her truck and they walked across the street. When she opened the door to the diner, the warm smells of grease and food greeted them. Lucy was standing at the kitchen window waiting for an order and acknowledged them with a nod, then pointed at an empty table. Polly took Sal's arm and led her over.

  "Are you going to try a pork tenderloin?" she asked. Polly knew her friend didn’t keep kosher, but this was almost funny.

  "When in Rome, I guess."

  "Do you at least want a salad to start?" Polly asked.

  "What are you having?"

  "A salad. Yeah. That's what I'm having," she nodded.

  "No onion rings today?" Lucy asked as she approached the table with menus and silverware.

  "Okay, we'll split some onion rings and I will have a salad with ranch dressing. Lucy, this is my friend Sal from Boston. She's here to try one of your famous pork tenderloins."

  "How about a nice salad for you, too?" Lucy asked.

  "Sure. Do you have a vinaigrette dressing?"

  "I have oil and vinegar or our house Italian."

  "House Italian sounds fine and an iced tea. Thank you."

  Lucy left and Polly felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and Ken Wallers was standing over her.

  "We keep meeting in all the restaurants in town. I'm going to have to start bringing my lunch to work. People will talk," he said.

  "Hi Ken," she smiled. "This is my friend, Sal, from Boston. Sal, this is our police chief, Ken Wallers. What's up today?" she asked.

  "I heard your new custodian showed up with a lot of scrapes and cuts this morning. Do you know what he got himself into?" he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table with them.

  "He won't tell me. But, he's doing a lot better. Sylvie Donovan took matters into hand."

  "There was a bad fight at Jefferson Street Alehouse last night. A couple of out-of-towners were involved. Do you suppose that was him?"

  Polly put her head into her hand and sighed. "I don't know, Ken. I'll ask him later today. I'd hate to think I hired another loser for this position. I like him and he has worked so hard this last week."

  "Well, make sure you are careful. You've found enough bodies for one month, okay?"

  He stood up and started to walk away, then turned back. "Take care of yourself. Neither the Sheriff or I want you in any trouble."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Running her finger around the rim of her glass, Sal had watched the interchange between Polly and the police chief. After he walked away, she said, "You've got some good friends in this town. People like you a lot."

  "Sal, I can't tell you how glad I am to be settling in here. I don't think I ever appreciated small town Iowa until I came back to it. When I was young, I couldn't wait to go away to college and start living in the real world, but it's nice to be back. I can't imagine wanting to live anywhere else now that I'm here."

  "I didn't intend to talk you into coming back to Boston, your emails and our phone calls have let me know how much you love it here, but until I saw it for myself, I didn’t understand how this fits you. You know, I was serious the other night. You're a lot different now."

  Polly wrinkled her nose, "Different? What do you mean?"

  "I've been thinking about this. You were living someone else's life when you were in Boston. You had friends, you had an apartment, you had a job. But, it wasn't all you. I haven't been here very long, but your friends are bonded to you a little more deeply and your apartment is so your home. There are little pieces of you everywhere I looked. And you don't just have a job, you have a life here. Sycamore House is an extension of who you are. The whole town recognizes you and it's like you are a piece of their puzzle. You fit in."

  "I suppose."

  "No, I'm not kidding. It never occurred to you to have a pet while you were in Boston, but look at you. You have horses and a dog and cats. What's next? Sheep? Cows? Chickens?"

  Polly put her hands up in defense, "Nothing! I swear. Nothing!"

  They laughed and Sal continued, "I'm so glad to get a chance to experience this part of your life and see how content you are. I hope someday I will feel as satisfied with my life as you are right now. You figured this out."

  "I never thought about it. Sheesh, Sal. Everything just fell together. Other than buying the building, there was no plan in place where I would uncover peace and contentment."

  "Well, you found it and I'm a little jealous."

  "You don't think you could find yours in the middle of Iowa?"

  Sal let out a loud laugh and they both looked around the diner to see if anyone was paying attention after that outburst. People glanced up, but went back to their own conversations and meals.

  "No," she laughed again. "Somehow Sal Kahane, Jewish American Princess and small town Iowa will never be the perfect blend of peace and harmony. I like a little more excitement in my life. However, when it comes to the excitement barometer, you're certainly pushing it up there. Dead bodies, beaten employees, rescued horses. We wouldn't have known what to do with you if any of that had happened back east."

  "You know, Sal, you should never say never. Stranger things have happened. Who knows, maybe you'll meet the perfect man. You could always teach. There are plenty of great universities and colleges out here."

  Sal had started to take a drink and set it back down. "Can you imagine what my mother would do if she thought I was going to marry someone and move to Iowa? She'd have a heart attack. Remember, she's still setting me up with doctors and dentists as often as she can."

  "I can't believe that you have never gone on a second date with any of them.
Where is she finding these people?"

  "Oh, I haven’t told you about the one she set me up with last week. He's the son of some woman she knows from her card club. She doesn't even like the woman, but when she heard there was a single male, those two biddies set us up. They made reservations for us and sent a cab to pick us both up so we couldn't bail out on it."

  "How was it?"

  "At first I thought it was going to be, well, not the worst blind date I'd been on. He was fairly good looking and polite. He held doors open for me and even helped me with my seat at the table. I was a little impressed."

  "So?" Polly encouraged.

  "We ordered our meal and when the soup came out, I thought I was hearing strange noises, but I couldn't figure it out. Then, the entree came out and when he wasn't eating, I didn't hear them, so I paid close attention. He was snorting like a pig as he chewed!"

  Polly gasped. "No way!"

  "I'm not kidding you! And once the food got there, he couldn't hold a conversation, he was so intent on jamming it in his mouth. I've never seen such awful table manners and I've been on some pretty bad blind dates."

  "I'd have died."

  "I wanted to. I was so embarrassed, but honestly, that wasn't the worst of it."

  "There can't be more."

  "Well, yes, there can be. He finally finished eating and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. That was fine, but then he stuck the thing in his mouth and began rubbing his teeth clean. When that was over, I am not kidding you, he belched. Right there in one of the nicest restaurants in downtown Boston, he belched!"

  "No, no, no, no, no," Polly sighed. She shook her head. "What did you do?"

  "I pulled money out of my purse, put it down on the table, stood up and walked away. I didn't say another word to him. I didn't say good bye, I just left. I called a cab, then I called my mother and told her that was the last straw. She is never again setting me up on another blind date. Ever."

  "You do know that I'm nervous about you meeting Mark Ogden for a blind date now, don't you?"

  "I thought you assured me this wasn't a date, girlfriend."

  Polly shivered and chuckled. "Okay, it's not a blind date and I promise you that I've had a meal with him and he doesn't snort or do anything gross while he eats. He's really nice."

  They were laughing when Lucy brought their meals to the table and set them down. She said to Polly, "I hear you had more excitement over there at Sycamore House this morning."

  Sal's eyes sparkled as she listened. Polly knew exactly what she was thinking, but said, "It never ends, does it, Lucy?"

  "Do you suppose he was part of that fight at the Alehouse?"

  "I'm going to ask him. I hope not, but you never know."

  "How long has he been in Bellingwood?"

  "He started working for us last week, but I don't know how long he'd been in town before that. Why do you ask?"

  "No reason, just wondering. Enjoy your tenderloins, girls."

  She walked away and Sal snickered under her breath, "News travels fast around here, doesn't it!"

  "You have no idea," Polly said. "And not only news, but before too long, they'll have names and blood types and every other piece of information about all the parties involved. They'll know motive and what the police should do about it. Now, only ten percent of it will be actual truth, but if you listen long enough, you get a few nuggets of good information."

  She stopped talking and watched as Sal's eyes got big. She had pulled the fries away from the sandwich and sat up a little straighter as she attempted to take in the full dimensions of the tenderloin.

  "I can't eat all of this," she whispered.

  "No one can," Polly laughed. "Cut it in half, then eat what you can."

  After lunch, Polly and Sal wandered up and down the main street in Bellingwood, peeking in the stores, and stopping to say hello to people who recognized Polly. Sal couldn't believe the prices on items in the thrift and antique stores.

  "I could make thousands of dollars, buying from the stores here and reselling these things at home," she exclaimed as they wandered through an antique shop. "How come no one does that?"

  "I'm sure they do," Polly said. "You aren't the first person who has been astounded at these prices. But, everyone makes the money they want to make, so they're all happy."

  Sal picked up a stack of old photographs, flipped through them and said, "How sad. Someone's memories are here and no one will ever know who they were." She set them back down on the table and drew her finger across a small chest of drawers that was next in the aisle. "This would be lovely in my foyer."

  "I don't think they'll let you carry it on the airplane, Sal."

  "I know, but I love it." She turned the price tag over. "Polly it's only one hundred dollars. Are they kidding me?"

  Polly pushed her friend's hand away from the chest. "You can't take it with you. Let it go."

  "But!"

  "Let it go. Maybe we ought to get out of here before you forget yourself," Polly laughed and began walking toward the front door of the shop.

  "How can you come in here and not want to buy everything?"

  "That's why I don't come in here, you nut. It's the only way I restrain myself. Besides, where would I put this stuff? I still haven't unloaded the storage unit at home."

  They walked back onto the sidewalk and Sal said, "You haven't dealt with those things yet?"

  "No, not yet," Polly replied.

  "I figured that once you got settled, you would bring all of your memories into your home."

  "I know. I know. It's just that if everything is over there, tucked neatly away, I don't have to think too hard about missing them," Polly said. She felt her eyes begin to fill with tears and brushed at them with her hand.

  "It was one thing to live in Boston and not have them around, but I've been avoiding those feelings since I moved back to Iowa," she continued.

  "I'm sorry I brought it up, then. I didn't know you were still carrying that," Sal said. "You never talked about it much after your Mary died. I suppose we all figured you were doing fine."

  She stopped on the sidewalk and turned to Polly, "I'm sorry I wasn't more sensitive to your loss during those years. I feel terrible that you were holding it all in and I didn't see it."

  Polly took her hand and they crossed the street. "I was fine. I loved my job and I was having fun doing things with my friends and living my life in the big city. It was okay. Some nights I would pick up the phone and think about calling Dad or Mary to tell them about the things that were happening, and then I would cry, but it happened less and less as time passed. One day it was a good memory without the pain."

  The two of them stopped again in front of the Bellingwood General Store. "When I was little, the drug store in Story City had a soda fountain," Polly said. "The drug store here doesn't, but this place has great ice cream. Are you game?"

  Sal grinned and hooked her arm in Polly's. "What do you suppose their flavor of the day is?"

  The two went inside and sat down at the counter. A young man, replete in his soda jerk uniform greeted them. The owner had designed a throwback fountain, with sparkling glass ice cream dishes and parfait glasses standing on transparent glass shelves in front of a mirror. Neon signs at each end of the wall advertised "Ice Cream Sundaes" and "Coca-Cola." Polly pointed to a metallic sign advertising root beer floats and Sal smiled as she took in the nostalgic touches, with glass straw dispensers and a bright red and chrome milk shake maker.

  Sal ordered a scoop of their daily special - peach ice cream, and Polly ordered a turtle sundae. Before long they were sharing their ice cream with each other and giggling at the stories in a book Sal pulled from its stand on the counter.

  Sal sighed, "I'm going to be miserable all afternoon if we keep eating like this. Maybe I should walk back to your house."

  "Oh, nonsense. It's only ice cream. You're fine. Come on. Let's go for a ride," Polly said.

  They crossed the street back to Polly's truck and Sal
laughed. "You don't worry about jay walking or getting hit by cars in this little town, do you!"

  "Every once in a while you have to pay attention, especially after school is out and the kids are home, but it's not a bad way to live."

  "Where are you taking me now?" Sal asked.

  Polly looked at her watch. Sylvie's boys, Jason and Andrew would be showing up a little after three, but she didn't need to be home until around four thirty. With Jason and Sal's help, they could have the horses back in the barn quickly. There was plenty of time.

  "Let's drive down to Boone. The town is so pretty. You'll love all of the homes there. I remember driving through there when I was young, astounded at how beautiful they were."

  "Okay," Sal sounded doubtful.

  "Trust me. It's a nice day for a drive. We'll drive past Mamie Eisenhower's birthplace and though we don't have a lot of time, I'll take you past the old train station."

  "Alright. I'm trusting you."

  "Look, I know it isn't Concord or Cambridge with all of the excitement of Boston's history, but …," Polly started.

  "No, I'm sorry," Sal said. "I'm sure it will be lovely. This is what I wanted to do while I was here. I wanted to see why you love Iowa so much. Onward." And she pointed to the road in front of them.

  "I'm going to make a quick call to Jeff to let him know I'm not going to be there when the boys arrive. He'll make sure they get upstairs."

  She dialed Jeff's phone and told him that she was taking Sal to Boone. He assured her that everything was quiet and he'd point the way for Jason and Andrew.

  They drove into Boone and were promptly stopped by a train crossing the main street. Polly watched Sal's eyes flit from right to left as she tracked the cars filled with coal heading east.

  "Do you ever count the cars?" Sal asked.

  "Sometimes I do and sometimes I like to watch for patterns in the car numbers to see if they’re in sequence. Sometimes I try to figure out what the graffiti says. It's all entertainment."

  Polly pointed out some of her favorite homes, set far back from the street. There were so many big, old gorgeous homes and she loved seeing them kept in such great shape. Finally she drove down a few side streets and stopped in front of a tiny yellow home with a sign out front announcing that it was a Historic Site – the Mamie Doud Eisenhower Birthplace. It wasn’t open, so they stopped for a moment.