by Ritter Ames
“No, we’ll be fine. If we need extra help we can call our intern, Harley, and she’ll round us up some teenage boys to help,” Liz replied, running a hand at a large dark spot on the siding. “I’ll give this old thing a good washing first. See how much of this is fading and how much is plain old dirt.”
Kate walked out to join them and asked, “All the kids around here probably know each other pretty well.”
“Yes, it’s what comes from a small community,” Liz said. “Harley Miller, our intern, is best friends with Stacy. Ever since you mentioned that charm bracelet this morning, I’ve been trying to remember if I ever saw Bren wear any kind of jewelry similar to that.”
“Could Harley have had one that she left in the office, and we just didn’t notice it before we found Bren?” Meg asked.
Kate raised an eyebrow at her friend but didn’t say anything. She figured Meg was up to something with her question, and she didn’t want to mess up any interrogation strategy.”
“It’s possible, but she doesn’t usually wear any kind of jewelry to work here at the rescue. That kind of thing is too easy to break or lose,” Liz replied. “I guess I could ask her. But I don’t want to complicate anything by talking to her before the police, in case they decide to pursue a similar lead. After all those warnings they gave us last night about it being an open case and all, I want to be careful about what I do.”
“For that matter, the bracelet by the body could have been something a lot of local girls have,” Meg ventured. “Bren could even have had one herself. I’m guessing there are a lot of craftspeople in this area, and girls that age tend to see what their friends and frienemies have and want everything everyone around them has.”
Liz nodded. “Yep, they want to be original, as long as they’re like everyone else.”
“Times never change,” Meg said.
The dogs started their cacophony again. A dark blue pickup truck appeared in the drive and then turned to head their way. Through the glass, and a trio of people could be seen.
“Well, there’s Josh now, in Stacy’s truck,” Liz said. “And it looks like Stacy and Harley came along too.
The truck pulled up beside them, and the dogs circled the vehicle and kept their noses busy checking out scents on the wheels.
“We were running around when I ran into David,” Josh said. “Figured it would be easier to haul the door in Stacy’s truck than mine with the camper.”
Stacy reached behind the seat and pulled out a small metal toolbox. “Should be a hammer and screwdriver in here, Josh. Will that work to get the door off?”
“Yeah, if the screwdriver is a big flathead,” he replied.
She opened the box and handed him both tools.
Josh and Harley squeezed into the shed, but Stacy stayed back and stood hugging her torso. She looked at Liz and said, “I imagine you’ve had the police interviewing you a lot, huh?”
“Yes, last night. They’ve sectioned off the barn so I can treat what animals I have to, but most of the front half is off limits,” Liz said.
They heard the pair in the shed try to force the door open more, with the wood scream again along the concrete pad floor. Banging came from inside. They could see Harley’s hand, bracing the outside edge of the door near the top and middle.
Stacy hugged herself tighter, then said, “They came to my house and asked me a lot of questions, too. Said my bracelet was found at the scene. I tried to tell them Bren had my bracelet. We argued at the market yesterday and she grabbed my wrist. I hadn’t realized the bracelet was gone before the manager fired her and she left.”
“So it could have been in her pocket and fallen out when she fell,” Kate mused.
“Yeah, that’s what Josh told them.” Stacy chewed her lip a moment, and Kate wondered if she was about to cry. Instead, she took a deep breath and continued talking, “He sat beside me, held my hand, and when the police wanted an alibi for the time of the murder he said we were there, at my house. He came by after picking up my truck for me. The police came to question me and he wouldn’t leave until they were finished. Then I drove him home.”
“He and Travis were in the camper truck when they left here after the roundup,” Liz said.
Stacy nodded. “He had Travis drop him by the garage. Yesterday afternoon someone slashed three of my tires when it was sitting in the carport, and I had to have it flat-bedded to the garage to get replacements. Plus I wanted George to check it out to make sure there weren’t any other problems.”
“That was a smart move,” Liz said. “George is a good mechanic. If the malicious mischief went further than just the tires, he would have found it.”
“I thought so too,” Stacy said. “But it wasn’t mischief, it was just straight malicious Bren. She was blaming me for getting her fired. Wish I’d seen her at the time, I would have stopped her.”
Liz wrapped an arm around Stacy’s shoulders. “Keep calm and don’t talk like that. The police are looking for a murderer and right now you’ve given them a couple of good reasons why it wasn’t you. Don’t say anything to make them do any second-guessing.”
The door came down then, and Josh and Harley angled it out of the opening, then each took a short end and carried it to the bed of the truck.
“Okay, I have a good idea how much to take off the edges,” Josh said, opening the truck door and stepping aside so Stacy could get in the middle of the bench seat. “The frame is a little out of square, so when I come back I’ll bring a few more tools in case I need to straighten out one of the sides, too.”
“Thanks, Josh,” Liz said. “I really appreciate your help.”
The dogs started barking again, and raced toward the front of the house. A few seconds later David’s Jeep was visible coming up the driveway.
“Looks like your paint is here,” Meg said. “Last chance to get help from Kate and me.”
“Thank you, but the two of you have way too much on your plates already the way this project has tumbled over,” Liz said. “David and I can get it done.”
Harley leaned over Stacy to talk out Josh’s open door. “We can help you paint.”
“Sounds like you have a full platoon,” Kate said, grinning. “Since the refurbishment is under control, Meg and I will go now. That will give us time to go by the shop of the picker we were telling you about. See what he can offer in stock, or what he believes he can find quickly for the project.”
“You two are lifesavers.” Liz gave them each a hug.
As Kate and Meg headed for the van, Stacy and Harley climbed back out of the truck. Josh waved to all of them when he left, the door wedged solidly in the pickup bed.
CHAPTER SIX
FRUGAL REVAMPING
Sometimes we don’t need to redecorate as much as revamp our spaces. A stop at a garage/yard sale or secondhand shop can lead to fast and cheap ways to organize and freshen up spaces. Furniture that helps organize, like bookshelves and standing cabinets, can be gained for good prices but get sold quickly, and won’t be there the next time—so grab them fast or leave a deposit. Lamps are often available, but while the shape or size may be exactly right, the color may be off. If it’s coming at a great price, why not—paint it, add a new shade, revamp the old shade, or cover the base in decoupage or mosaic to match the rest of the room’s décor? Another great buy to look for are baskets of all shapes and sizes. Like lamps, they can go pretty cheap and are easy to update or change for color. Best of all, they’re terrific for keeping things organized in a room. Wondering what to spend in these sale venues? A secondhand store will run higher than an outdoor sale to accommodate the cost of overhead, but you’re still likely to get a great deal. For items that are used but in good condition, expect the price to run about twenty-five percent of retail. If the item is brand new and still in the box, the asking price might be as high as fifty percent of the original cost. However, never be afraid to haggle. No one gets thrown out just by asking, “Can you do a little better on this price?” And for a bett
er way to gain the lower sale price, hold the money so it’s visible while asking. There’s something about seeing ready cash that will often persuade a seller to take the money and smile.
MR. JOLLY’S RAMSHACKLE shop looked like it once was at least three separate small buildings. Currently, however, it was an interconnected warren of all things Americana, unique but not precious antique, and just plain interesting. Kate loved that she could walk in, tell Mr. Jolly exactly what she needed, and be finished with the task. Whereas, Meg and all the kids were the opposite, and enjoyed prowling through the intriguing spaces to see all the fabulous finds they never knew they needed.
When the women pulled into a parking space in front of the building, they were surprised to see a bright red Miata already filling one of the spots.
“Valerie James uses Mr. Jolly to acquire decorating items for her interior design clients?” Meg’s eyes were wide. “I wouldn’t think with her superior taste that she would never darken the door.”
“I have a hard time believing it too,” Kate said. “But the evidence is right there. I guess interior designers use all kinds of outlets to get what they need.”
“Oh, I can’t wait for her to see us,” Meg said, climbing out of the passenger side of the van. “The explanation she gives should be a lulu.”
“I just hope she doesn’t say anything that might offend Mr. Jolly,” Kate whispered as she joined her friend on the walk.
“Good point,” Meg said. “Feel free to jump in with a quick change of topic if the conversation starts going south.”
Inside, a trio of bells over the door announced their entry. Their eyes needed to adjust to the dimness, but they were seeing clearly when Valerie James sashayed up what was the widest of the aisles in the place, carrying a large box with what looked like a rusty rooster weather vane angled to fit as best it could in the cardboard. As usual, she looked more like she was dressed for a day in New York than a weekday in Vermont. Her red silk blouse alone probably cost as much as Kate spent on her wardrobe all year, and her thick brunette hair always looked like she’d stepped out of a salon.
No simply dressing for function for our Valerie James.
“I’ll add this to your monthly bill, Miz James,” Mr. Jolly said. He pulled a pencil from behind his ear and made a note on the notepad in his hand. Then he saw the organizers. “Hi, ladies. Be with you in a minute.”
“Take your time, Mr. Jolly,” Meg said while giving Valerie the “I caught you” grin Kate had seen her use many times on her boys.
“Hi, Valerie, how are you today?” Kate said, offering a friendly smile. While she was no fan of the interior designer either, she didn’t want to risk alienating the mother of her best babysitter.
“Oh, well, I...” Valerie stammered. Then her face turned red and she stood straighter. “Hello.” She turned back to the elderly picker. “Thanks so much for finding this for me, Mr. Jolly.”
“You’re welcome as always, Miz James.”
That made her face darken further, but Valerie didn’t say a word, just pushed her way out of the door as the bells tinkled dizzily in the wake of her speed.
Meg covered a laugh with fake coughing.
“Behave,” Kate whispered.
Mr. Jolly stepped forward. He wore the same a quilted gray coat he always seemed to have on—one he’d likely worn for several decades—that matched the wispy gray hair falling forward onto his forehead and brushed the top of his collar. His long thin hands didn’t show the kind of arthritis evidence she’d noticed in so many older people lately, and Kate wondered if his constant search for treasure was his way of staying young. Still, she understood exactly why Meg had teased that he was nearly two-hundred years old. The skin over his cheekbones was tight and grew a little more translucent each time she saw him.
“Mr. Jolly, we’re kind of on a scavenger hunt today,” Meg spoke up and gave him a winning smile. “We know we need a small work desk, and Kate can give you all the information on that. But if you don’t mind, I’d really like to prowl around the shop a bit and see what new and wonderful stuff you have that we might not even realize yet that we need.”
“Wander to your heart’s content,” he said, sweeping his arm back as if inviting her to a world premier. “If you have any questions or need any help with anything, just give a shout.”
“I’ll do exactly that,” Meg said. “Thank you.” Then she disappeared into the next room.
Kate watched her friend go and chuckled. “We may never see her again, Mr. Jolly. I think she would move in here if she could.”
“She’d be most welcome,” he said, smiling. He flipped a page in his notepad and said, “How are you today, Miz McKenzie? And how are those two special little girls?”
“Those two special girls are going to be irritated if they find out I came to see you without them. But we came straight from the job site so, hopefully, they’ll never know.”
“Well, you bring them by anytime. I love seeing children. Makes a grand day even grander.”
Kate knew Mr. Jolly was widowed, but she’d never heard about any children. Something she needed to remember to ask Meg.
Small talk out of the way, she pulled out her own notepad with the dimensions marked for the relative size desk she was looking to put under the window of the shed. “The door isn’t wide either, so the more compact the better. But we do want it big enough to be useful. It can be anything within this size range, Mr. Jolly.” The storekeeper jotted down the dimensions Kate gave him onto his own pad. She continued with a little more explanation, “We’re not picky about the type of material, other than the fact we want it pretty and functional. We can paint it if the color isn’t right, so don’t worry about that being a factor. It will be holding a laptop and needs a little extra space on top for a pencil and pad. Maybe a drinking glass or water bottle, too.”
“I probably have a couple of options back here that I can get cleaned up for you to look at. Do you want to walk with me now? Or come back when they’re prettied up and I’ll have everything set out in one spot?”
At that moment, the bells on the front door did their tinkling dance and what appeared to be a family of four came inside, just as Meg came back to the front triumphantly carrying two small shelves bookended together under one arm, and using her other hand to hold the rims together on a couple of orange and green baskets.
“Don’t you think these will work perfectly?” she asked.
“Not crazy about the basket colors, but rattan is easy to paint,” Kate said.
The new arrivals shuffled themselves to find adequate space to stand together while waiting. All of this helped Kate give her answer without sounding like she was worried about stepping into the controlled chaos of the rest of the store.
“Mr. Jolly, it looks like you have more people here to help. If you could place a hold on what you have available in the store, we’ll stop by in the morning and make our choice. Then we can load it up and take it directly to the job site with us. That way you can help this nice family.”
Meg caught Kate’s eye and nodded, then said to Mr. Jolly, “Go ahead and add these items to our bill, too, if that’s alright. We’ll take care of everything tomorrow.”
“Very good, thank you, ladies,” Mr. Jolly said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
The nicely trimmed small pine shelves were a good choice to use for the walls of the small shed, and Meg said she planned to apply lemon oil. “That way they’ll be at their best in time for displaying whatever Liz wants to in the office. These will hold framed awards or cute animal knick-knacks. Lots of options.”
“Thanks for doing the polishing,” Kate said. “I have a can of white spray paint to up-cycle the baskets. What do you think?”
“Personally, I’d like them to add a splash of color to the space, but like you, I’m not that partial to the orange and green combo.”
“At least we don’t have to plan dinner tonight,” Kate said. “We still have everything in the refrigerator
that we didn’t grill last night.”
“I’ll get our grill started when I get home, too,” Meg said. “Just bring your stuff over when you’re ready to cook it.”
“Will do.”
They were arriving later than the previous day, and Kate saw her daughters swinging around the basketball goal as the van turned into the cul-de-sac.
“I remember doing that when I was a kid,” Meg said. “Now women our age pay for pole dancing lessons to get the same kind of exercise we used to get for free.”
“Yeah,” Kate replied, laughing. “But please don’t say anything like that to Suzanne. I swear she’s eight going on thirty. She doesn’t need any new ideas that she thinks will make her look grown up.”
“Deal.”
Kate dropped Meg at the curb in front of the Berman home, then pulled the van into the driveway of the McKenzies’ blue Victorian house. As she climbed out, she noticed the cat was sitting sentry in the front window. The girls discarded their play and ran to give her hugs hello.
“Is your daddy in the backyard?” she asked.
“Yes,” Sam said. “He went back to building the deck when we got home. I think he wants to be more done than he is.”
Like maybe because he said yesterday that he’d be finished by tomorrow, Kate thought, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling.
“And he asked us if we wanted to help him stain it,” Suze said, wrinkling her nose. “Why would we want to stain the deck and ruin it when it’s brand new?”
“This isn’t a stain like when you get a big splotch on your clothes, honey. It’s a way to protect the wood like paint does. But stain has a different, thinner consistency, so the wood grain shows through. It’s a pretty way to finish off a deck.”
“Oh.” Suze still frowned. “Maybe I’ll think about it.”
“It would be nice to help your dad.”
“Yeah,” Suze said, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she and Sam ran through the garage and into the house. Kate took the opportunity to walk around to the gate and enter through the back instead, to check Keith’s progress with the new backyard project.