by Tamara Woods
"Girl, you've been gone for too long. Whisper Valley has changed. Sometimes it's for the good, but in other ways, it's really not." She heaved a sigh, her shoulders curling on themselves. "I better head out and get things done."
On impulse, Isa reached over and grabbed her friend in for a big hug. She tried to put all the happy thoughts she could into the hug.
"What was that for?"
"You needed it."
"You know what I really need?"
Isa looked at her inquisitively.
"I need to know why you were gone for so long, Isa. I'm still waiting for you to tell me, and you're still dancing around it. We need to have a good ole sit down. And you need to spill. All right?"
Isa agreed. She did need to update her friend on her journey. It was only fair. "I will. I need to tell you and Auntie what's good. You should come over for tea sometime."
"Sounds good. Thanks for coming with me today. You're pretty good at knowing how to get people to talk."
"Instinct."
"Sure, right." Clare flashed her friend a smile over her shoulder as she let herself out.
Isa picked up the bags and took the stuff first to the bathroom. It was a large room and she found a cubby that was the perfect spot for the kitty litter. As she got the pan ready for the kitty, who definitely needed a name, she thought about all that she needed to tell her aunt and her best friend. She'd kept her relationship from them, because she'd been so embarrassed. She'd thought she could deal with everything on her own. She hadn't though. Not really.
But she'd moved on from all that. She'd put it behind her. She was going to be fine.
She put her ex out of her mind and instead thought about Chad's murder. According to Mr. Redding there had been two cars out there and three people total. Two men and a lady. He hadn't seen the vehicles leaves. She pulled out her phone and sent Clare a text asking her if she'd message Wesley to see if he'd noticed a black SUV when he'd arrived on the scene. Had anyone had mentioned reserving the space for the day?
Who had Chad met with and why did they pick that place? Sure, it was open, but they couldn't have known for sure if no one was going to be there, even at that early hour. But the thing that The Rec did have, it's at the end of town where there aren't a lot of homes. At that early hour, the likelihood of people being out and about was slim. Mr. Redding is habitually up early in the mornings, but they would've only known that if they had known his schedule.
She felt like she didn't know enough about Chad to really be able to find suspects. She was going to have to phone a friend, or get some outside information.
"Hey baby girl, you should go and get your kitten some food. He looks so hungry, look at him." The kitten jumped down from her aunt's arms and walked over to Isa, purring loudly.
"What? He looks as happy as a clam," Isa said with a smile. She reached down and rubbed the top of his head. "What are we gonna call you anyway?"
He looked at her silently.
"Reginald?"
"Boots"
He yawned at her.
"Peg Leg Meg?"
He turned his back to her.
"Umm..."
She sat down beside of him and patted her lap. She slowly stroked his hair until the name came to her. It was like it had been there the whole time.
"Maddox? Mad Maddie?"
He looked up in satisfaction and nudged her hand with his nose and licked her thumb.
"Maddox, it is then," Isa said with a smile.
"He's already got you wrapped around his little finger."
"I wasn't the one walking and talking to him like he was my widdle baby boy."
Her aunt harrumphed at her, "Go on and pick him up some food. And me another bottle. And some chocolate, I really could use a nice piece of dark chocolate with my tea."
ISA DROVE TO THE SMALL grocery store in town, Melvin's to pick up some things. It was a red brick building and the signage was a big white one with Melvins in green. The parking lot was about as big as the store. The front boasted things that were on sale. Nothing looked good to her. She grabbed a buggy at the front of the store and made her way in.
The music was a local country station, which wasn't Isa's favorite. But it wasn't the worst. She really hated that 80s hair She ran into several people that she knew from high school including her old track coach, Mr. Moran. He still wore that flannel jacket after all these years. She could see where his wife had repaired a few rips with her sure needlework.
"Hey there Legs, you still going on a run every day?"
He'd always called her legs, because he said she ran like a gazelle. Her legs seemed longer than anyone else's on the team. Before she'd grown into her figure, she'd felt like a huge pair of legs with hair on top.
"Yes, sir. Or at least I try to."
"That's good for you. Running is just about the best thing that happened with me. Me and Mrs. Moran used to run every single day until she had that stroke a few years back."
"Do you still go running on your own?"
"I sometimes do, but it just don't seem like a call for it." He shrugged and she saw the aging in the lines around his eyes and the widening paunch above his belt.
"If you want a running buddy, I can probably meet you half way for a weekly run."
"Oh you don't have time for an old man like me," he said with a laugh. "But I appreciate you."
"If you ever change your mind. Take care, Mr. Moran," she said. She watched as he walked away, hunched over the cart way more than she remembered.
She grabbed a bottle of Two Buck Chuck for herself and her aunt's favorite brandy. She found a bag of cat food and then a nice dispenser to put it in. Then she grabbed a couple of toys and a treat for Mad Maddie. She wasn't going to spoil the cat, but well-loved would definitely suffice.
She grabbed a pack of steaks, some potatoes, broccoli, onions, and mushrooms for dinner. Steak with a mushroom sauce with roasted potatoes and broccoli on the side would be a nice way to end the evening. She checked her phone. No text back from Clare yet. She hadn't expected response already, but she felt like she should be doing something for Travis. She wondered how they'd been able to keep him in jail. Did they have any actual evidence against him? She pushed her buggy to the counter, putting her items up without looking up. She needed to get back to sleuthing and making dinner.
"Why, Isadora as I live and breathe!"
Isa looked up from her purse and stared at the checkout person for a moment, trying to place her. Her hazel eyes looked so familiar.
"Don't you remember me? My hair used to be dyed pitch black back then."
And something in her clicked.
"Oh my goodness, Meredith is that you?!"
Meredith, or Meredeath as everyone had called her behind her back had been the one resident goth chick in school. She'd specialized in black nail polish and a biting disposition. Isa had found her hilariously over the top. They'd often worked together on school projects.
"In the flesh!" She laughed. Her nail polish was still black, but her hair was that two-toned look that was so popular—right now, black on the bottom and red on top. She'd exchanged black lipstick for a deep red. But her skin was just as pale, still must be avoiding sunlight.
"How've you been?" Isa asked, adding a gossip magazine to her pile and a news one to make it look like she was cultured.
"Actually decent. It's amazing how much different a place is after high school," she said laughing as she rang up the bits. "I've been here, working on my nursing degree. I'll be done in about two months."
"Early congratulations to you."
"Thanks!"
"I said to I needed you to bag this up! Don't put my eggs in there you idiot! Why would I want my eggs under my heavy meat?" Sally Anne smacked the bag boy's hand away from her bag. "I'll just do it myself."
Isa raised her eyebrows at Meredith. "Holy crap, is she always like that?" Isa whispered. Meredith gave a quick nod.
"Oh here! I forgot, I brought my own bags," Isa gave
them to her bag boy who smiled at her. They usually hired younger people to do that position at the grocery store.
Isa had a flash of intuition. "Hey, did you know that Chad guy pretty well?"
Meredith accidentally dropped the box of kitty snacks she was getting ready to scan. "Who told you that?" She snapped.
You did, just now Isa thought. "No one told me," she said instead. "It was a guess."
Meredith looked at her for a long second in suspicion while the rest of the counters around them was ringing up items. She shook her head in defeat. "It doesn't matter now. Nothing does. Yes, I knew him very well." She emphasized very and raised an eyebrow so Isa would get her meaning.
"Oh. OH. I see." She leaned forward and pitched her voice low. "Did nobody know about it?"
Meredith shook her head once, quickly. She rang the rest of Isa's items in record time and quoted a price.
"Hey, you can stop by any time if you want to chat. Auntie would love visiting with you," Isa said before leaving. Meredith nodded and greeted her next customer.
Isa climbed into her sedan, putting her things in the passenger seat beside her. She paused with putting her key into the ignition, thinking about what Meredith had said. Meredith had dated Chad, or at least been intimate with him at some point. A shiver ran down Isa's spine. Ester had said there was a secret girlfriend. Was that girl Meredith? Could her old high school friend be a murderer?
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT MORNING, ISA dressed in brown slacks, a cream cable-knit sweater, and tied a colorful scarf around her hair. She wore her imitation Chanel slingbacks to complete her look. She couldn't wait to dive into her workday. At least in the shop most things made sense.
Her steps echoed her determination as she made her way downstairs to join her aunt. Come hell or high water, she was digging into those accounting books today. If Isa was going to help her aunt out of the red, she needed to know what she was dealing with.
Her nose always let her know when she'd entered The Mystic Eye. Incense—Nag Champa and various spices. The scent was heavy, but beautiful. Of course, if anybody had some sinus problems, they would probably need to stay clear of the place. It might be overpowering, but it smelled like home to her.
Her aunt leaned against the tea counter wearing a cozy blue caftan with an orange and pink floral pattern on it. Her hair was wrapped in a matching scarf. She looked like a hippy grandma guru, which Isa guessed was pretty accurate. Though she hadn't given her any grandchildren yet, which was fine. They had enough going on without throwing a baby into the mix.
"Auntie, I've familiarized myself with your inventory enough. Maybe it's time for me to hit the books— are you OK?" she asked. Her aunt turned to her and she was wiping tears away from her cheeks. She nodded and wordlessly handed a letter to her.
Isa's mouth dropped open. "Eviction notice? Are you behind on rent?"
"Nope, I keep my stuff together, you know," Auntie said with a heavy sigh. "I should've known this day was coming. I should've paid more attention to the signs."
Isa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the mentioning of "the signs." She read through the letter slowly, trying to read through the legalese.
"Okay, you haven't been evicted yet, officially. This is a notice letting you know that if you aren't able to pay the rent and the back rent in the next two months, you'll be gone."
Since the shop was in the middle of town and included her home above, the rent was much larger than Isa had initially thought it would be. She swallowed thickly. How would they raise those funds?
Her aunt nodded again. "Isa, I don't know what they're talking about. I'm not behind on rent. But that thing says I owe the thousands. I don't know what I'd do without this place. My whole life is here." Her voice had a shaky timber to it that Isa hadn't heard before.
Isa put her hand on her aunt's shoulder and squeezed a little, feeling the tension there. She lent her aunt her strength.
"We're going to figure this out. Together. Let's get to those books and get me started. Are you up to handling the front of the store today?"
Just as she'd figured, Auntie stiffened her spine and stood a little straighter. Her family never backed down from a challenge.
"Of course, I can do it. I've been doing this for years. Since before you were even a twinkle in your daddy's eye."
When Auntie had first started in the book selling business, she'd been a traveling sales woman, hawking her "psychic gifts," books, incense, and all the other trappings of a would-be psychic in the back of a van. She'd had the mystic eye symbol painted on its side that now dominated the sign on the front of the building. She'd only told Isa a few stories from that time, and they were always bright and shiny pictures. Eventually, she'd moved back home to Whisper Valley to settle down and take care of Isa. The rest was history.
Isa wondered what things had really been like for her, being a black woman traveling from city to city in a mostly rural state, playing the role of the psychic nomad.One day Isa would have to get that full story of how the shop came to be out of her aunt. She was ashamed to realize she hadn't done that before. But not today. She had another goal on-hand.
Her aunt opened the office door and flicked on the lights. Isa stifled a groan. Of course there wasn't a computer in sight. Why make it easier on her? The room was a decent size, but felt smaller because it had a row of filing cabinets that were overflowing with papers. The desk was barely visible under a mountain of paperwork. Boxes overflowing with inventory where stashed here, there, and everywhere. The blue, red, and gold braided carpet in the middle of the room had even more boxes stacked on it. Blue beaded curtains were hung on the wall over a large artistic rendering of a window with a large eye in the middle. First order of business, Isa thought and let the beads swing down and cover the eye.
Her aunt cleared her throat in disapproval.
"Auntie, I can't with that eye. It's just too creepy. I don't have it in me," Isa said. She kissed her aunt on the cheek. "Let's get started in here. You want to tell me about your process? How do you have things organized? And can you give me the ledgers for last year and this year? Those will give me an idea of what's going on here. And what about your taxes? Who does your taxes for you?"
"Martin Shelley. I think he graduated a couple of years before you. Nice boy. His mama is one of the Ladies Who Lunch. You've probably met her. Her hat always has the large feather sticking out of the band."
Isa vaguely remembered her as an elderly white lady who had a quick smile and always smelled like a sugar cookie. "When will the Ladies Who Lunch be having an event outside of the shop?"
The Ladies Who Lunch was a worst kept "secret" club with women of a "certain age" who literally had lunch together. Unofficially they ran the town, because between them, they had their fingers in all parts of the town. Perhaps they'd be able to shed some light on what was being said on the rumor mill.
"We'll be meeting at the Church this week to finish planning the Fall Festival."
The Fall Festival was an event where the town got together, did hayrides, drank cider, played games and basically had an excuse to hangout out together.
"Do you think it's wise to have a party like that so soon after Chad's murder?"
"Baby girl, life goes on, in spite of the most terrible tragedies. It's important for the living to not stop living it," her aunt said with a solemn look in her eyes.
Then she turned to her office and threw up her arms with a grin, "There's decades of information here. You better get started!"
Isa did groan this time. She really wished she wouldn't have put it that way.
After her aunt left the room, Isa wanted to flick the switch on the little table fan, but she was afraid it would blow half the paperwork away. All of the mess made her feel stifled. The air was stale, the files were overflowing. This was obviously the place her aunt disliked the most in the entire building.
I can't work like this, she thought.
She rolled up her metaphorical sl
eeves and grabbed the cleaning supplies out of the small closet that she was all too familiar with. She snapped on the purple cleaning gloves and dove in. Trash was trash and it had to go. And if she didn't put those files in some semblance of order, she'd scream. RIP dust, she thought, time to meet your maker.
After a couple of hours she straightened with a sigh and wiped off her forehead. She looked around in relief. She'd opened the window earlier to let some of that cool autumn here in, but she closed it now. The room felt much nicer.
She opened her bag and pulled out her laptop. Her aunt still had everything on paper. It was past time to update her system. Paper as a backup was fine, but for convenience sake, her aunt needed to go digital. Isa opened her accounting program, created a new document for the The Mystic Book, grabbed her auntie's ledger for this year and started adding information. She would go back and input older years after she was caught up from there.
As she started adding in data, a picture formed.
There weren't any programs to bring in any new customers. In order to stay afloat, having a customer base that was just local wouldn't necessarily sustain the company. She also didn't have any money invested in marketing or advertising. She wasn't utilizing any social media ads and she wasn't working with other local businesses to do any activities to again open up a potential financial funnel.
But even with these shortcomings, The Mystic Eye wasn't doing terribly. There was debt of course, but it wasn't anything that was out of this world.
"What's going on here?" Isa tapped her fingers against her aunt's ledger, deep in thought. Auntie's store could definitely use some updates. Isa realized as there was also a definite pattern to the bookstore patrons' behavior. People came in to chat, but they didn't actually buy anything. They read magazines for free, chatted with Auntie. They asked her for advice. She gave them complimentary tea, but they didn't buy anything to go with it. But they were dropping coin in the new shop down the street.
She needed to find out what that place was like and if the Mystic Eye could compete.