The Gun Also Rises

by Sherry Harris

  Trevor looked shocked but covered it quickly. But not quickly enough that Pellner, Bull, and I missed it.

  “Never heard of him,” Trevor said.

  “You might as well admit it. This may be a small town, but the police know what they’re doing,” I said.

  Trevor shrugged as a police officer put him in the back of a patrol car.

  * * *

  I sat and watched as EMTs checked over Miss Belle and Frieda. They had to shout questions to them because both had ringing in their ears due to the grenade. But both would be fine, given some time. I had a million questions for them, but it would have to wait until they felt better. Bull had taken off. Pellner was gone too. I hoped he was looking for Ryne.

  Ryne. I hadn’t liked or trusted him when I first met him at an estate sale in May. I’d tried to convince Stella not to rent the apartment to him. He was a handsome, oh so charming, single man who’d been living next door to me, but I wasn’t ever interested in being more than a friend. Some part of me hadn’t trusted him, even though I’d been letting down my walls a little because everyone else seemed to like him. Geez, he’d even fooled Awesome.

  I went up and continued working on books. Miss Belle had a complete set of first-edition P. D. James books. I would love to spend some time with Adam Dalgliesh, James’s police commander/poet protagonist. But my pricing duties kept me too busy.

  At seven, Frieda came up. “Come on down for dinner,” she said. “I’m sure you’re full of questions. Roger has arrived too.”

  “Okay. I just have a couple more books in this box and I’ll be down.” I finished pricing and put my hand down on the floor to push myself up. I felt like the wood floor gave a little. I pushed again, and it definitely moved like the one had in Kay’s room the day Awesome and I were in there. Miss Belle might need to do some maintenance on her floors. I hoped she didn’t have termites.

  I pressed down on the board next to it, and a piece popped up. I pulled up another piece and saw a tissue-covered package.

  I took it out and unwrapped it. It was the limited edition of The Sun Also Rises, I opened it. A piece of paper fell out. It said, “To my good friend Sebastian. It was never a loan and always for you to keep. Harold.” I set it aside and flipped to the title page. There was Ernest Hemingway’s signature. I went through more of the pages, reading the notes he’d written in the margins.

  I ran down the flights of stairs so quickly, I almost fell. I took the corner into the kitchen and slid across the floor like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, only I was fully dressed.

  “Look what I found.” I held up the book to show an astonished Miss Belle, Frieda, and Roger.

  Everyone huddled over it, oohing and ahhing. Each of them took a turn looking at the note and the book. Roger looked a bit glum when he saw the note.

  “Roger. It’s as much yours as mine,” Miss Belle said.

  Roger’s face brightened.

  “Why don’t you find a proper owner for it? Maybe a museum or library where it can be seen. We’ll split the proceeds,” Miss Belle said. “Because of Sarah, I know some very good causes to help veterans.”

  “Less my commission,” Roger said.

  We all stared at him.

  “Gotcha,” he said with a laugh.

  We all joined in and laughed a lot harder than the moment called for. Then we took turns hugging each other.

  After Roger left, Miss Belle and I sat at the kitchen table. She was still holding the book, leafing through it.

  “How come you didn’t know about this book?” It bugged me that she wouldn’t know her husband owned something so valuable.

  “From the date on the receipt, the exchange happened when I was spending a lot of time in Alabama while my mother was dying. Maybe Sebastian told me about it, but to me, it might have been just another book he bought. He died not so long after. We’ll never know how it ended up in the floor.”

  I worried about Ryne still being out there.

  “Miss Belle, do you know Ryne O’Rourke?” Part of me still hoped I was wrong about Ryne, that he wasn’t involved in any of this.

  “Not well.”

  I perked up. “But you know him?”

  “I know his uncle much better.”

  “His uncle who runs that antique store?”

  “Yes. We’ve known each other for years. He’s been appraising the things at my mother-in-law’s house.”

  If Ryne had been doing the appraising instead of his uncle, he would have been in a position to overhear Winnie talking about the manuscript and the book. My face flamed as I thought about him using an old woman like that. “Are you sure it was his uncle and not Ryne at the house?”

  “I’m not sure,” Miss Belle said.

  “Then I’m going to call Ruth.” Ruth, who I was silently apologizing to for thinking she was behind all or part of this.

  Miss Belle nodded, so I dialed. After a brief conversation, I hung up. “Both of them worked there, but it’s mostly been Ryne the past few months.” My flare of anger receded, and I felt sad. “I need to call Pellner to let him know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  At noon on Saturday the fund-raiser was in full swing. The air was scented with the hotdogs and hamburgers grilling on the north end of the town common. I stood near the church steps, watching over the event. Pellner showed up beside me.

  “Any news about the manuscripts?” I asked.

  “Nothing. We’re tracking down people Kay had contact with, but they’re like snakes that slithered back to where they came from.”

  “Do you think the manuscripts will ever be found?”

  “I don’t know. I talked to Bull this morning. He stopped by the station before he left.”

  “What did he have to say?” I asked.

  “That he wouldn’t rest until he found them. He’s headed to New Bedford, hoping to find someone there who knew the people close to Kay.”

  “Any word on Ryne?”

  Pellner shook his head. “No. Thin air so far with him.”

  “So he must have heard Trevor was arrested and took off.” I sighed. “He’s probably long gone.”

  “Maybe. Both his uncle and Trevor have been blabbing about the whole plan. Ryne had overheard Mrs. Winthrop Granville talking about the limited edition of The Sun Also Rises. She was there when Harold Mervine gave it to Sebastian.”

  “Then why did Trevor threaten Roger and then chase him all over the place?” I wiped a bit of sweat from my forehead.

  “Trevor thought Roger already had possession of it. Apparently, Kay misunderstood a conversation she overheard between Roger and Miss Belle. You finding the manuscripts was unexpected. No one knew about them. But they had already positioned Kay in the house by then. They took advantage of Rena’s retirement, overheard Ruth recommend the Blackmore Agency. That set everything in motion.”

  “So a plan was quickly thrown together?”

  “Exactly.”

  “How did Kay become involved?” I asked.

  Pellner shook his head. “She knew Trevor and stopped by the antique store to meet Ryne. Ryne knew an easy mark when he saw one.”

  I didn’t like what that implied about Stella and me. “And it was Ryne out in the woods? He killed Kay and shot at me?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry. According to his uncle that was a freak accident.”

  “And yet he shot at me anyway,” I said.

  “I pointed that out to him.”

  “Even though I was always a bit suspicious of him, I just thought it was because he was such a flirt. Not a criminal.”

  “He fooled a lot of people.”

  “It makes me wonder about my taste in men.” I’d always accused Stella of having terrible taste in men, but maybe it was me.

  “We’re not all bad.”

  I nodded. Pellner left to join his family, and I decided to stroll through the vendor booths. A few minutes later, I stood running my hand along a shelf of a folding bookcase.

  “Is this the same on
e I saw a few weeks ago?” I asked the woman I’d originally met at the flea market.

  She nodded her head. “Yes. It’s an original Larkin. Women in the early nineteen hundreds sold soap for the Larkin Company and earned these, or desks.”

  “I love that. I love it. But I live in a small place.”

  “Then it’s perfect for you because of how it folds.” She demonstrated by opening the two sides, swiveling up the shelves, and then folding the two sides back down. Then she quickly opened it all back up.

  Maybe I could set it on the other side of the window from my grandmother’s rocking chair. “You wanted two hundred for it?”

  “Yes. They usually sell for a lot more.”

  “Would you take one fifty?”

  The woman shook her head. “Like I said, it’s worth more than two.”

  I’d been hoping she’d counter. “One seventy-five is the best I can do,” I said.

  The woman’s husband came up behind her. He’d probably put the kibosh on the deal.

  “We’ll take it,” he said. He pointed at his wife. “She put it aside after you saw it the first time. Said she felt like it was meant to be with you.”

  “Really? I get that feeling about things all the time. I’ll buy something and then give it to someone who I think is really meant to have it.” In fact, I’d recently purchased a vintage tablecloth with bowls of salad and jars of olives on it. I had a friend who loved olives, and I kept feeling I should send it to her. I paid them and told them I’d be back to pick it up later.

  I weaved my way through the various booths until I spotted Miss Belle sitting at a table under a tree. She waved. I hurried over and sat down across from her.

  “With all that’s gone on, I never did donate anything for this fund-raiser,” she said.

  “It’s okay. You’re really stepping up for the library. They’re a good cause too.”

  Miss Belle opened her purse and handed me a check. “I hope this helps out.”

  I stared down in astonishment and then threw my arms around her. “Thank you. This gets us halfway to our goal,” I said as I released her. “How are you doing?”

  “Frieda has agreed to stay on,” Miss Belle said.

  “That’s wonderful news.” I was happy for Frieda. Working for Miss Belle would be a lot easier than cleaning houses all day.

  “And my mother-in-law is moving in with me sooner than we thought. Early next week. Ruth will be moving in too.”

  “Oh, how does that feel?” I asked.

  “Like the right thing to do. I don’t want to worry about someone else trying to take advantage of her.”

  “That will be a big adjustment.”

  “Thank heavens it’s a big house and we can afford good care.”

  “Did you find out how the manuscripts ended up with Sebastian’s family?”

  “Winnie’s explanation was a bit jumbled. She used phrases like they were found and there was a mix-up with luggage. It seems clear to me that her mother stole them. She might not have ever told anyone but Winnie.” Miss Belle patted my arm. “And I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “I can work tomorrow.”

  “I think you deserve a day of rest,” she said as she turned to go.

  I wiped a bit of sweat off my cheek. It was hotter than the blazes out here, whatever the blazes were. On the steps of the church, Stella was in charge of a sing-off. Votes were made by buying a ticket and putting it in ajar. The winning team was putting on a charity concert tonight in the old town hall across the common from my apartment. I was glad she was still willing to help, because she’d been pretty upset after hearing about Ryne’s criminal enterprise. I’d managed to joke her out of it. Eventually, we laughed about the unlucky apartment next door, and the joys of finding a new person to rent the place. I was secretly hoping maybe it would be Luke.

  On the church steps near the singers, there was a big wooden board with a needle on it that had zero at one end and $5,000 on the other. I handed off Miss Belle’s check to James, who was keeping track of money.

  “Look at this,” I said as I handed it to him.

  “That’s fantastic,” he said. He moved the needle to thirty-five hundred. “We’re going to do it, aren’t we?”

  “We are. I told you we would.”

  I looked over at my apartment. Last night, Luke and I had moved back to my place after the police had said Ryne had cleared out. It was good to be home. I’d left a thank-you note for Seth, along with a nice bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Not only to thank him for letting us stay at his house, but because the assistant DA who’d helped prepare me for the trial had called. She’d told me that because of CJ’s testimony, the defense lawyer had asked for a plea deal. I was so glad I didn’t have to testify. I’d been a little disappointed Seth hadn’t called me himself but hadn’t had much time to dwell on it.

  Luke had written an amazing story for the Globe about the manuscripts, The Sun Also Rises limited edition, and my role in the whole thing. I had talked about finding the manuscripts and shared the few lines I could remember. Miss Belle did the same. So, while there were still treasure hunters around and a few reporters, they weren’t bothering me the way they had. Tracy had called Luke, and they were going to get together next week for an interview. Someone from Mike’s organization had picked up the Volkswagen Beetle I’d been driving. Things were falling back into place.

  The League of Literary Treasure Hunters were roaming all over the place, looking for books. I told them all they should stay in town for the library sale next week. I looked over the town common. People were laughing, singing, eating ice cream, and buying things. All of them out here to help someone they didn’t even know. It wasn’t easy having to make all the decisions about my life on my own. But the decision to stay in Ellington might just be the best one I’d ever made.

  Luke came up to me. “Are you ready?”

  I grinned. “You’re on.”

  When we’d realized how hot it was going to be, Luke had suggested a town water balloon fight. Each balloon cost fifty cents, and all the money went to bringing King home. A group of teenagers from the base had been busy filling balloons with water for the last hour. An area of the town common had been taped off for the fight. We’d spread the word via social media.

  People lined up to buy balloons, and they sold out in ten minutes. I bought the limit of five. Luke had found a bullhorn somewhere and announced the balloon fight would start in a few minutes. Everyone took up positions on the common. There were no trees to hide behind in this section. We all counted down with Luke. As soon as he said go and set down the bullhorn, I charged him. Splat, splat, splat. It was so satisfying.

  I saw Tracy and Eric in the thick of things with their kids. They were all soaking wet and laughing. It lifted my heart to see them like that. A balloon landed in the middle of my back. I turned to see who threw it, but it was just a sea of people. I spotted the town manager. Laughing as she got someone with a balloon. She was usually dressed in a pristine suit, but today was in shorts and an Ellington Rocks T-shirt. I ran at her and threw. I was a little off, but it hit her in the leg. She pointed at me, laughing.

  “You’re going down,” she said.

  She took aim, but I threw my last balloon, then dodged behind a group of people. As I did, Luke hit me square in the chest with a red balloon. Water showered my face. I turned to run and smacked right into someone. Strong hands grasped my arms to steady me. I wiped the water out of my eyes but already knew who it was. Seth. He smiled down at me, and I threw my arms around him. Seth pulled me closer. Splat, splat, splat. Balloon after balloon pelted us, but neither of us cared.

  Keep reading for a special excerpt of

  I Know What You Bid Last Summer,

  a Sarah Winston Garage Sale Mystery by Sherry Harris!

  FOUL PLAY IN THE GYM

  When it comes to running a successful garage sale, Sarah

  Winston believes in doing her homework. She also

  believes in giv
ing back. But when she agrees to manage

  an athletic equipment swap, she doesn’t bargain on an

  uncharitable killer. The day of the event, the school

  superintendent is found dead in the gymnasium.

  HAS SARAH PLAYING DEFENSE

  Suddenly the murder suspects are the school board

  members—including the husband of a very difficult

  client who’s hired Sarah to run a high-end sale and

  demands she do her bidding. In between tagging and

  haggling, Sarah studies the clues to see who

  wanted to teach the superintendent a lesson.

  But as she closes in on the truth, the killer intends to give

  her a crash course on minding her own business . . .

  Look for I Know What You Bid Last Summer on sale now where books are sold.

  “I need your help, Sarah,” Angelo said to me.

  I’d rushed over from the Ellington High School gym, where I was in the throes of setting up an athletic equipment swap meet for the school board. The swap was in the morning, and I’d been up to my ears in ski poles when Angelo sent me a text asking me to stop by. Angelo never sent texts, so I had literally dropped everything and would have a mess of ski poles to clean up when I got back.

  We sat in his restaurant, DiNapoli’s Roast Beef and Pizza, at one of the wooden tables lining the far right side of the room. It was just after nine-thirty, and Angelo had closed for the night. His deep brown eyes crinkled with concern.

  “Anything. What can I do?” Angelo and his wife, Rosalie, who sat next to him, had done so much for me that I’d gladly do anything this side of legal to help them. And maybe the other side of legal, if it was really important. They’d supported me when I’d moved to Ellington, Massachusetts, from nearby Fitch Air Force Base during a personal crisis over a year ago. The DiNapolis encouraged me if I was down and celebrated my successes, like starting my Sarah Winston garage sale business. I leaned forward, shoving my glass of Chianti to the side.