Last Pen Standing

by Vivian Conroy

  “That sounds lovely. You have such good ideas.”

  “Since you’re buying this for a charitable event, we can also give you a discount.” Delta hadn’t discussed this with Hazel, but it seemed like a good idea.

  The woman clapped her hands together. “Then we will also mention you on our list of sponsors of the raffle. We have a local news station coming over to produce a short segment about the raffle, so it would also mean a bit of publicity for you.”

  “Wonderful,” Delta said. Finally, a bit of positive publicity to boost the shop’s image and Hazel’s mood. Tonight, they’d unwind and have fun at the antique fair, not mentioning a word about murder. Then in the morning, she’d contact Jonas and ask him if he had anything new to add to the puzzle pieces she was collecting in the back of her sketchbook. The images of the people involved were getting clearer and clearer, and she knew she’d just have to keep going until she found the center piece that would suddenly make her see the full picture.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “There it is!” Hazel pointed enthusiastically through the windshield at the large building up ahead. A sign read Western Antiques, every Monday 7–11 p.m. Entry free.

  Delta couldn’t help grinning at the prospect of a relaxed night out antique hunting. Hazel was a master of negotiation and had often persuaded a seller to give her something she really wanted for much less than the asking price. As Delta parked the car, excitement flooded her veins, and she guessed the gold miners of old must have felt that exact same way.

  They walked to the entrance, which had a giant cowboy hat hung over it, the rim lit with blue and red flashing lights. Inside, country music blasted from speakers, and to their right stood a bar where cowgirls served beer and wine.

  Delta tapped her foot to the rhythm of the lead guitar while Hazel studied the floor plan to see which booths she wanted to visit first.

  Hazel squeezed Delta’s arm. “This is so much fun. I haven’t been here in ages. I guess it’s different when you’re on your own. Just not as exciting.”

  “Couldn’t Finn have taken you some time?”

  “He doesn’t like ‘old junk’ as he calls it.”

  “But he does know you like it. He could have done it for you.” Delta wanted to add that a relationship shouldn’t be a one-way street, but realized her friend wanted to have a good time, not be reminded of her tenuous bond with her brother. So, she put an arm around Hazel’s shoulders and ushered her into the main room where the booths were.

  Some vendors were selling cowboy hats and boots, crackled pairs with old, rusty spurs on them. Others had silver candlesticks with running horses and bulls worked into the patterns or entire candelabra of bulls’ horns to hang from the ceiling.

  One seller had brought in a mechanic bull, and potential buyers were testing it, hanging on for dear life as it bucked and counting the seconds until they were thrown off.

  “Might be a nice addition to Wanted,” Delta said to Hazel with a wink.

  Hazel rolled her eyes. “I was thinking more about some old books or maps of the gold fields. And the extras for the cottage are all up to you. How would you like to put your own stamp on the place?”

  Delta had already made up her mind about this. “I think I’d like a sheepskin to throw in front of the fireplace or across the sofa for when it gets colder at night. Oh, and if you want books, how about adding some book ends with a western vibe? Maybe a running horse or a sheriff’s figure?”

  “Have you seen any like that?”

  “Not yet, but we’re just starting out.”

  They wandered from booth to booth, picking up some handblown glass ornaments for the porch and a small side table with a tree silhouette burned into the surface. Delta could already picture it beside the sofa, holding a tray with scented candles or, when Christmas approached, a nice piece of evergreen with glittery baubles, cinnamon, and red ribbons worked into it.

  Then Hazel ran ahead to a booth. “Look! What a great clock.”

  She pointed at a wooden-encased model with a painted clock face depicting horses and riders.

  “Real 1830s,” the seller assured them.

  Hazel pulled up her phone and snapped a shot of the clock, sending it off right away. “I have a friend,” she explained to the seller, “who is really good with these things.”

  The seller looked a little hurt, as if his expertise were being questioned, but Hazel studied the clock closer and asked if it still worked.

  “Not at the moment, but you can have it repaired.”

  Delta was doubtful and tapped Hazel’s foot with her own, their old signal of let’s forget about this one and move on.

  But Hazel stood her ground, checking the message that came in on her phone. “My friend says it won’t be 1830s, but more likely 1870s.”

  “That’s still nineteenth century.” The seller leaned back on his heels, jutting his chin up. “I’m not going to lower the price.”

  “What do you want for it?”

  “One hundred bucks.”

  Hazel looked appalled. “And then we have to have it repaired as well?”

  “Maybe that expert friend of yours can do it for free.”

  Hazel took Delta’s arm. “Let’s move on.” She added in a whisper, “Maybe he’ll change his mind and come after us.”

  “You really want that clock? I think it’s rather tacky. And it doesn’t even tell time.”

  “Not yet, but I can find someone to fix it.” Hazel glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like he isn’t following. Too bad.” She suddenly grinned at Delta. “This is just like old times.”

  Delta returned her grin. Arm in arm, they strolled past booths and listened to people haggling over a few dollars’ discount.

  Hazel dove into stacks of old books and managed to dig out a few big, impressive-looking tomes bound in leather to put on the shelf in Wanted. She also found an old map. “It’s a bit torn at the edges, but perfect to put a glass slab across and put it on the counter so buyers can look at it while I wrap their presents for them. See, this is a supposed gold field.”

  Delta leaned over and followed Hazel’s guiding finger. “Fascinating. Does every cross represent a stash?”

  “Or a place where they’ve already dug and didn’t find anything?” Hazel had to laugh.

  Suddenly Delta thought she heard a familiar voice. Turning her head, she saw Fred Halliday in a bomber jacket, black pants, and shiny leather shoes that shouted handmade. To the lady by his side, he pointed out a hope chest with elaborate woodcarving on the lid.

  Delta arrested Hazel’s arm and nodded in the direction of the eager boating instructor. “Seems he doesn’t mind spending his night off entertaining hotel guests.”

  “How do you know that woman is a hotel guest?” Hazel asked in a whisper.

  “I think I saw her at the high tea yesterday. With her husband. There was this man drumming his fingers on the table as if he couldn’t stand to be at the tea for another minute. I only glanced at his wife, but she was a platinum blond and wore rather long, conspicuous earrings. The same ones she’s wearing now.”

  “Oh. If Halliday is friendly with all the ladies at the hotel, maybe it’s not so strange for him to be close to Amanda White.”

  Maybe he isn’t involved in the murder either, Delta added to herself. Perhaps the boating instructor just enjoyed female company and adoration? That woman was smiling up at him like a sixteen-year-old with her first crush.

  Hazel paid for the map and the books. The seller put protective bubble wrap around them. Hazel said to Delta, “Let’s call it quits and have a snack. I saw a chalkboard advertising pumpkin soup when we came in.”

  “Just what I need after all this ambling about,” Delta agreed.

  A few minutes later, they were at a table surrounded by their purchases, warming their hands on the bowls of pumpkin soup. Bet
ween them on the table was a plate of fresh bread with small bowls of butter and toasted bacon beside it. A tea light in an orange holder spread a warm glow, and the hum of voices and laughter around them increased the coziness.

  Delta lifted her spoon in a toasting gesture. “To our enterprise and our friendship.”

  Hazel smiled. “To us.”

  * * *

  The repeated beeping of an alarm clock dragged Delta from an enticing scene where she was accepting an award for having made the best photo in the leaf-peeping contest. In reality, she was lying on her stomach, facedown in her pillow, not quite ready for another day. Her muscles were sore, and she dug through her memory for a reason why.

  Oh yes. After they had come home from the antique fair, they had spent time going through old stuff in Hazel’s attic, as Hazel had been certain she had a glass slab somewhere that would fit perfectly across the old map they had bought for Wanted.

  But no matter how many unpacked cardboard boxes they had moved around, they hadn’t been able to find anything close to a glass slab. Before they knew it, it was after midnight.

  Delta groaned and rolled onto her back. A hot shower would be bliss. While she let the water do its restorative work, she already heard sounds from the kitchen. Hazel was up and about, fixing them breakfast. Delta’s stomach growled, and she imagined hot toast with scrambled eggs, fresh coffee, and a yogurt with banana and figs to top it off. Hadn’t Hazel mentioned she had coconut flakes in the house? Those would be great on top of the fruit yogurt.

  But just as Delta ran downstairs, Hazel came out of the kitchen. Her face was pale, and she was clutching her phone in one hand. “Mrs. Cassidy just called. There’s a problem at Wanted.”

  “What?” Delta asked, bewildered. “How do you mean?”

  “Someone vandalized the shop last night. We have to get over there now.” Hazel was already at the door.

  But Delta grabbed her arm. “Did you turn off the stove? Otherwise, the next call we get will be about our cottage having burned to the ground.”

  Hazel sighed. “You’re so right. Could you do it? I’m just shaking in my boots.”

  “I can imagine. Wait a sec.” Delta breezed into the kitchen and turned off the stove and the coffeemaker.

  After a quick look around to ensure everything was in order, she grabbed two bananas from the fruit bowl and went back to Hazel. “Here.” She handed her a banana. “You eat something. I’ll drive.”

  * * *

  As they came into town, a group of people had gathered on the sidewalk outside the shop. A deputy was just unrolling the crime scene tape.

  “What on earth happened?” Hazel asked. “I can’t see the shop properly with everyone in the way.” Despite Delta’s encouragements, she hadn’t taken a single bite of her banana.

  “We’ll know soon enough.” Delta parked the car, and they jumped out and ran over.

  Forcing herself through the crowd, Delta came up to the deputy. “Excuse me, but this is our shop.” She gestured half behind her, where she suspected Hazel to be hot on her heels. “What happened?”

  The deputy pointed behind him at the shop front. “Broken window. Might have been a break-in. We haven’t been inside yet. We hoped you’d show up and could let us in, before we broke down the door.”

  “Thanks,” Delta said and asked Hazel for the keys. She unlocked the door with trembling fingers. What if half their stock was gone?

  But who would want to steal notebooks and washi tape? It was nice stuff, but not exactly easy to sell quickly and make a bundle… The first thing that struck Delta when they stepped inside the shop was that everything looked orderly. Not at all like someone had gone through their things. In fact, everything was just as they had left it last night at closing time, except for the brick on the floor amid a sea of shattered glass.

  Delta exhaled slowly. “I think Mrs. Cassidy told me about other incidents like this in town. Local teens breaking windows, damaging mailboxes, and joyriding. This must just be a case of that. Of course, it’s sad that it was Wanted this time, but…”

  At least it didn’t have anything to do with the murder and the threatening note left at the cottage.

  The deputy put on gloves and gingerly stepped over the broken glass to retrieve the brick.

  Delta turned to Hazel. “It doesn’t look like anything was stolen. We’ll just have to get the window replaced. Was it insured?”

  Hazel shook her head. “I thought about insurance after the other incidents in town, but it’s an extra bill to pay and… To be honest, I just hoped the kids would get smart and stop doing it after the police got involved. Some of them were identified and their parents notified, so I assumed the kids had been getting an earful at home and would be more careful next time.”

  Delta nodded. “I see. Well, we’ll just have to pay for the window.” She looked at its dimensions, trying to estimate what something like that might cost. “I wonder if we can get it replaced today or if we’ll have to have it boarded up first. Do you know a carpenter here in town who might do that? I could give him a call—”

  “Nobody is doing anything right now.” The deputy’s tone was grim as he cut her off. “We’ll need to look closer at this.” He held up the brick.

  Delta didn’t see at first what he meant, but when he turned it around toward them, she caught sight of the white paint on it. It read in tall, bold letters: LEAVE.

  So, it hadn’t just been kids breaking windows because they were at an age where you liked to do forbidden things. Hazel gasped and Delta reached out to wrap an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “It’ll be OK. We can deal with it together.”

  “I should never have asked you to come here. Now you’re caught up in it too. What a mess.” Hazel started crying.

  The deputy edged closer and held out an arm as if to shepherd them out of the shop. “It’s better if you leave. We have to do work here. We’ll see if we can get information from the neighbors about suspicious sounds last night. Maybe someone saw something.”

  Delta nodded. “All right.” She squeezed Hazel’s shoulder. “Are you up to facing the people outside? I bet they’ll all want to know what happened.”

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

  “Is there a back entrance you can use?” the deputy suggested.

  Delta nodded. “Good idea.” She didn’t want to give anyone a chance of snapping a picture of Hazel with red-rimmed eyes.

  The deputy leaned closer and cleared his throat. “I’m, uh…not supposed to tell you this, because the sheriff will call about it later, but as you’re so upset about this mess here…” He lowered his voice. “Your brother will be released this morning. The sheriff says there is no more reason to hold him. He made a full statement about how he found the body and took the bracelet off it so it couldn’t incriminate his girlfriend. He still has to stay around town, of course, keep himself available, should there be more questions.”

  Hazel smiled through her tears. “That’s wonderful news.” She looked at Delta. “We have to meet Finn as soon as he’s out.”

  Her expression contorted again as she added, “I don’t want him to hear about this right away. He’ll be so angry at whoever did this.”

  The fear in her eyes resonated in Delta’s own heart. Finn would be mad that someone was after his sister…and what would he do then? He was only just being released and still a suspect in the investigation, so he had to be extra careful not to land himself in hot water.

  “Look, I have an idea. Why don’t you go meet Finn and take him out to breakfast? Keep him away from Mattock Street as long as you can. Just say that I’m at the shop. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Jonas and see if he can help clear up who did this.”

  Apparently, the deputy had overheard, for he said with a sour expression, “Nord is no magician. He can’t just see by the look of a brick with a pain
ted word on it who threw it through this window.”

  Delta bit her lip, sorry that she had let him catch her words. The police and Jonas weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye, and further fanning that fire wasn’t going to do them any good. She wasn’t quite sure what she could say to make it better.

  But the deputy didn’t seem to want to wait for a response. He turned away and looked around as if assessing something.

  Delta took the chance to drag Hazel into the back. “Do what I just said. I’ll call you later. OK?”

  Hazel looked her over. “We came in my car. How will you get around?”

  “I’ll call Jonas and see if he can pick me up. Don’t worry about it. It will be fine.”

  Hazel gestured over her shoulder at her shattered shop window and sniffed. “Right now, nothing feels fine to me.”

  * * *

  Jonas answered his phone on the third ring.

  “Good news,” Delta said. “Finn will be released this morning. Hazel is going to meet him and take him to breakfast. I guess the media will be jumping for a chance to talk to him, but it’s better if he stays out of the limelight.”

  “That’s sensible.” Jonas sounded distracted, like he was doing something that required focus.

  Delta hesitated. Could she just impose on him? “Look, uh, there is also some bad news.”

  “Another threat?” Jonas sounded razor sharp and almost indignant. “You can tell me right away. I promised I’d help you if I could.”

  Relief flooded Delta. “Yes, well… Wanted’s window was smashed overnight. Someone threw a brick through it with the word LEAVE painted on it.”

  Jonas scoffed. “I don’t believe it. Are the police doing something about it?”

  “Yes, they’re at the shop now. We can’t be present there while they work, let alone open up for the day, which is also why I sent Hazel off with Finn. She needs the distraction. She’s pretty upset about this.”