They walked across the street to the Clover Tavern. The lunch rush was in full swing and there was a short wait.
They were alone in the reception area looking at artwork by a few local painters when the phone on the front desk rang. Mattie Clover, who owned the Tavern with her husband Frank, hurried in from the bar to answer it. She murmured a few words, then she slowly replaced the receiver.
Rose looked over and Mattie was just standing there, staring out the window with tears running down her cheeks.
“Mattie, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Mattie jumped, wiped her eyes with a tissue and said, “Sorry. I didn’t even see you there. I’m fine. Just, you know, nothing. I’m fine. Let me see about your table.”
Chapter Two
At seven thirty the next morning Rose came up the stairs from the kitchen wearing an emerald green tank top that matched her eyes. Her long auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a water bottle hung from her wrist.
“Hey, I’m ready to go. Are you coming?”
“Just a sec,” called Daisy.
“What are you doing, Daisy? It’s getting hotter by the minute and you know I hate to get too sweaty.”
Rose stuck her head around the bedroom door just as Daisy was brushing color onto her cheeks.
Daisy looked up and said, “One minute. Mascara and lip gloss and I’m all yours.”
“Holy catfish! You’re putting make-up on to go walking in this heat?”
“You never know who you’ll meet. I don’t want to scare anyone.” She finished her make-up and pulled her curly, blond hair into a loose knot.
“Daisy, you’re nuts. You look fine.”
“You think? I went out to get the paper the other morning and the paperboy asked if I’d died recently.”
“He’s just an annoying kid.”
“Well, I feel old age creeping up on me. You and I are staring late thirties in the face and I don’t like it. A little make-up makes me feel younger.”
“Oh, just come on. It’s already eighty degrees.”
They left the house with Malcolm on his leash and headed for the bike trail that ran behind their property.
Rose stretched her arms and breathed in deeply. “I think this is the best part of my day.”
Daisy adjusted the blue bandana that was holding her curls in place. “This is good, but I think the best part of my day is the seven p.m. vodka tonic. So civilized and decidedly un-sweaty.”
They walked in silence for a while enjoying the breeze that cooled the air slightly. Then Daisy said, “I wonder why Mattie was upset yesterday. She’s usually so upbeat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her down, much less in tears.”
“I know. She seems really distracted lately. And she didn’t make the last Chamber of Commerce meeting. That’s unheard of.”
“Maybe she’s sick. Or maybe Frank is.”
“I hope not. That would be terrible!”
The sisters walked along the path, Daisy humming songs from Mama Mia. Suddenly, she burst out into “Dancing Queen” and went skipping down the path with Malcolm right beside her.
“You look like an idiot!” Rose laughed as she caught up with her.
“Perhaps. But an idiot full of joie de vivre, don’t you think?” asked Daisy as she continued dancing down the path, her neon pink I Got My Crabs from Dirty Dick’s Crab House tee shirt billowing in the breeze.
“You’re certainly full of something. Malcolm, come back here.” Malcolm had run further ahead and was humping the mile marker in a desultory sort of way. He turned and started back toward Rose, then stopped and darted off toward the trees.
“Malcolm, not there. Get back here. Daisy, get your dog.”
Daisy looked to where Malcolm was digging in the brush. “Oh, Malcolm. Come here, boy.”
She turned to Rose. “That’s where we found Ted Williamson’s body last year. We shouldn’t come this way. I think it upsets him.”
Rose said, “It upsets me too, when I think about it. But I’m not going to give up walking a perfectly good path because of that. Just go get him and we’ll go home.”
“Malcolm, come here, you hairy fool.” Daisy started to wade through the tall grass, then stopped. “You don’t think he’s found another body, do you? That would be too weird.”
“No.” Rose hesitated, “I mean, no. No. No body. Probably just some old bone.” Rose put her hand to her mouth and said, “Ooh, I hope not a bone.”
Malcolm started barking and wagging his tail.
Daisy finally reached the dog and attached his leash. “Well, he’s found something.” She bent down, picked up a black canvas tote bag, and carried it to the path with Malcolm in tow.
Daisy looked into it and said, “It’s mail.”
“A small man?”
“Yes. A teeny, weenie man. No, actually it seems to be mail. Letters.” She pulled one out. “Hey, this is ours. Why is our mail lying in the bushes?”
“Beats me. Maybe that old bat, Peggy, has gone completely around the bend and is playing hide and seek with the post. I’m glad we found it. But now I’ll have to go to the post office and find out what’s going on.”
They got back to Champagne Taste, put Malcolm in the backyard, and entered the house through the private entrance on the far end of the front porch. Daisy threw the tote onto the small table in the entry hall, and she and Rose ran upstairs to get showers. Dressed and re-made-up Daisy came down the stairs and opened the door in the small hallway that led directly into the shop.
Roscoe had pulled the tote off the little table and was batting it for all he was worth.
“What’s the deal, Roscoe? Is there a tiny, little mailman in there?”
As she lifted the cat and started scratching his tummy, the tote caught on Roscoe’s paw and everything spilled out.
Daisy muttered “Oops,” then let out an earsplitting scream as a sinewy, black body slithered through the letters toward her foot. She dropped Roscoe with a thud and jumped back up the stairs.
Rose ran down the stairs and collided with Daisy. “What are you screaming about?”
“Snake! Snake! Right there. It’s a snake,” screamed Daisy putting a vise-grip on Rose’s arm and pointing to the table.
“Hells bells! How did a snake get in here?”
“I think we carried it home in that tote bag. What do we do now?”
“First, you let go of my arm. You’re cutting off the circulation.”
“Oh, sorry. I don’t like snakes.”
“Well, where is it?” asked Rose as she cautiously crept down the stairs.
Daisy pointed and said, “Right there, next to the table.” Only it wasn’t. “Oh my God, where is it!”
“Holy mackerel, we have a snake on the loose. Where’s Roscoe?”
The question wasn’t out of her mouth when Roscoe walked in from the shop with something black and slinky wriggling in his mouth. He walked up to Rose and dropped it at her feet where it lay for a moment apparently contemplating its fate. Then it started slithering again.
“Roscoe, pick that thing up,” she yelled as she jumped back onto the staircase colliding with Daisy for a second time. Daisy screamed again even louder and tripped over her own feet almost knocking Rose down the steps.
“Oh for God’s sake, cut it out, would you?” cried Rose as she caught herself.
“Sorry. Again. I just really don’t like snakes,” said Daisy.
“And I do? We need to be calm.”
Roscoe gave them a baleful stare. Then he picked the snake up in his mouth again and sat there waiting for instructions.
“Okay, Roscoe. Outside. Take it outside. NOW!” Rose ordered as she darted past the cat and the snake and pushed open the outside door, then jumped back to the steps. But Roscoe just hunkered down with the snake under his paw teasing the poor thing.
“Look. He’s grinning at us,” said Rose. “Go. Get. Take your friend outside.”
There was a tap on the door and a man poked his hea
d in. “You need some help? I heard someone screaming.”
“Brad! Hi. A little snake problem. We seem to have brought one home with us and Roscoe apparently wants to adopt it. Daisy and I aren’t too hot on the idea, and we’re having trouble convincing him to let it go.”
He looked down. Roscoe had the snake in his mouth again and was heading back to the shop.
“Stop him!”
In a swift motion Brad caught Roscoe under the legs and pried the hapless reptile out of his jaws. Holding it behind its head, he took it outside.
A minute later he came back in. “All taken care of. Relax. It was only a little black snake. They’re harmless.”
“So I’ve heard. Still, snakes! Ghastly,” replied Daisy with a shudder. “I’m so glad you were passing. We might have been sitting on these steps all day. Thanks for the help. How have you been, anyway? I haven’t seen you around lately.”
Brad Douglas had moved in a little over a year ago and opened a sports memorabilia shop called Yesterday’s Heroes. He still looked like the running back he had been in college: five-ten, stocky, no neck– with curly dark hair and a mischievous smile.
“I’ve been in and out going to yard sales and memorabilia shows. And I’ve been umpiring Babe Ruth and Boy’s Club baseball.”
Rose smiled, “Have you? That must be fun. Or is it a pain in the neck?”
“It’s okay. The kids are great. The parents can be pretty insane. But the extra money comes in handy.”
“Always! Would you like some iced tea? I’m buying.”
“No, thanks. I’ve got to get the store opened. How did that snake get in here anyway?”
Daisy picked up the tote bag. “Would you believe we carried him home in this thing? Malcolm found it lying in the bushes. The strangest part is it was full of our mail.”
She bent to gather up the letters lying on the floor, but Brad beat her to it and scooped them up.
Daisy said, “We’re going to have to talk with the wicked witch of the east and find out why there was a tote bag with our letters lying on the side of the bike path.”
“The wicked witch? You mean that woman at the post office, don’t you? You’re right about that. This mail thing is weird, all right. Well, good luck with it. See you later.”
He dropped the letters back into the tote and left.
Rose said, “Come on. We’re late. We need to get the shop open.”
Daisy dumped the mail onto the counter and was sorting through it. She burst out angrily, “This is a wedding invitation! How did it get in this stupid bag?”
Rose said, “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense, at all.” Roscoe jumped up on the counter and sniffed the bag. Rose looked at it suspiciously. “Are you sure it’s empty?”
Daisy shook the tote out. “Yep. No more snakes.”
Rose picked Roscoe up and said, “You were no help, buddy, and you’re lucky Brad came by.” said Rose. “He’s such a nice guy. And I love his shop. Sometimes those sports memorabilia places are kind of junky. But his is beautiful and I think a lot of what he has is pretty valuable.”
“I know,” answered Daisy. “He was showing me his Mickey Mantle rookie card. It’s autographed and dated. He says it’s worth a small fortune.”
“I guess to somebody who cares, maybe. It wouldn’t be worth much to me.”
“Well, to someone who cares it’s apparently worth about a quarter of a million dollars. I looked it up on the internet and that’s what one sold for not too long ago.”
Rose’s eyebrows shot up. “Holy banana peels. What people will spend their money on is amazing! Well, I’m going over to Flowers and Finery for fresh flowers. Want anything while I’m out?”
Rose and Daisy liked to have flowers in the sunroom. And not being much in the way of gardeners, they usually got them from the florist across the bridge.
“Get sunflowers if Sally has them. Or spider mums. And maybe a doughnut.”
“Okeydokey.”
Rose came back a little later, sunflowers and a bag of doughnuts in hand. “Something weird must be going around. I walked into Sally’s shop and she was crying. I asked her what was wrong and she sounded just like Mattie the other day. You know, ‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Let me get your flowers.’”
“That’s just odd. Maybe their businesses aren’t doing well. Maybe they both invested money in something and it fell through.”
“Or maybe they were each having a bad day and we should mind our own business.”
Daisy huffed, “Minding our own business is highly overrated. Besides, they’re our friends. We should help if we can.”
“Daisy, you know the kind of trouble your help has gotten you into before. Let’s just let Mattie and Sally handle their problems by themselves.”
“Oh, all right. But, you’re no fun at all. Did you know that?”
“Maybe not. But I make a mean Mai Tai which is on the menu for cocktail hour and if you’re not nice to me, you’re not getting one!”
Chapter Three
Early Friday morning Rose stood outside the post office bracing herself for a fight. Mattie Clover came up beside her and said, “Hi. What’s up? You look kind of lost.”
Rose smiled and said, “Not lost. Just cowardly. I have a complaint for Peggy and I’m procrastinating.”
“I know how you feel. The other day I was looking for a Next Day Letter I should have gotten. It wasn’t in my box, so I asked her if she had it in the back. She screamed at me that she’d sort the mail when she felt like it. I always think of Hansel and Gretel when I come here. The building is so lovely, but an evil witch lives inside.”
The small, white clapboard cottage with brick-red shingled roof was encircled by a low yew hedge. Red geraniums and candy-cane striped petunias bloomed in window boxes, and the winding brick path leading to the door was lined with beautiful pink and yellow roses.
“You’re right. That’s exactly what it feels like. Well, here goes. If you see her pop me into an oven, call Daisy and tell her she’s on her own.”
“Will do,” said Mattie laughing.
Inside the post office looked like any other. Mail boxes lined the wall on the left. The right wall was covered with shelves holding shipping boxes, envelopes and labels. A small counter sat in the middle of the room for customer use.
Peggy didn’t really look like a witch. About five foot two with short grey hair and frown lines, but no warts, she sat behind a counter that stretched the width of the cottage reading a Harlequin romance and looking decidedly unpleasant, as usual.
Mattie walked over to the boxes and got out her key as Rose approached the counter.
“Peggy, hi. How are you today?”
She looked up from her book and squinted suspiciously at Rose. “Why?”
“Just being sociable. I have a little problem that I’m hoping you can help me with.”
“What now? Seems like everybody’s got a problem. And they all want me to fix it.”
“Well, this one concerns our mail. Daisy and I found a tote bag on the bike path yesterday that was full of it. Our mail, I mean. I was just wondering how it got there.”
“How the hell should I know? What you do with your mail after I put it in your box isn’t my problem.”
“But it never got into our box. That’s the trouble. How could our mail get dumped onto the side of the path? I think that’s probably illegal, isn’t it?”
“What? You think I have time to go dumping mail all around. What kind of fool are you?”
Rose was keeping her temper, but just barely. Mattie was watching them, holding her letters in one hand and her cell phone in the other, in case she needed to call for help.
“Peggy, is it possible that you put our mail into the wrong box? Or that it was left outside or something?”
“No!”
“No? No!” Rose’s voice was rising slightly. “In all the years you’ve worked here, you’ve never put a freaking piece of mail into the wrong box?”
> “No. What are you trying do, you little bitch, get me fired?”
“Peggy, I’m just trying to find out why my mail was thrown into the woods. I’d think you’d want to know, too. After all, the mail is your responsibility.”
“Not after it leaves this building, it’s not. Now you just get the hell out of here and let me get back to work.” She picked up her book and stalked to the back room.
Rose stood still and counted to twenty. Then counted again. She took a deep breath and then went over to Box 769 to get the mail for Champagne Taste. Mattie was at the counter going through hers. When Rose turned to leave she saw Mattie standing at the counter with tears running down her face.
“Mattie, something’s wrong. What is it? Can I help?”
Mattie wiped her eyes with a tissue and said, “No. Thanks. Nothing’s wrong. Just a bad day. I’m just having a bad day.” She turned and left the post office.
Rose was in her living room sifting through the mail she had just retrieved and sighed. She called up the stairs to Daisy. “That woman is becoming a real nuisance! Now we have Brad’s letters in our box. I’m going to walk them over to his shop. Want to come?”
“Sure. I’ll be down in a minute.”
They were a couple of doors away from Yesterday’s Heroes when they saw Peter Fleming going in.
“Oh, good. We’ll get to meet the man officially,” said Daisy.
“It had to happen sometime. Here goes!” Rose said as she pulled open the door. The walls of the small shop were covered with shelves containing all sorts of sports memorabilia: jerseys, helmets, trading cards, bats, balls, hundreds of autographed pictures. Brad was sitting behind the glass counter in the back where he kept the most expensive items under lock and key.Rose called out, “Hey, Brad. I’m just bringing you some of your mail. It was in our box.”
She walked past Peter Fleming and put five envelopes on the counter. Brad smiled and said, “Thanks. This is getting to be a real pain,” as he picked them up and took a quick look.
“So how’re you doing? No more snakes, I hope?”
Roses are Dead My Love Page 2