Their food came and Daisy sighed with contentment.
“I needed a break. We’re gearing up for Christmas and it’s been really busy. Looks like we may see some black ink if the season goes well.” She sipped her tea. “You mentioned a desk. What kind?”
“An Italian roll top.”
“Is it a big one with lots of little hiding places? I love them. So many places to stash secret notes and love letters and clues!”
“Clues? Clues to what?” asked Marc.
“Oh, clues to anything really. Murder, blackmail, stolen pearls. I’m a mystery addict. I grew up reading Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, and Hercule Poirot.”
“Really? Me too. Lord Peter Wimsey’s my favorite.”
Daisy smiled. “I can see you as Lord Peter. Anyway, I’m always trying to come up with wonderful hiding places to stash things that might stump the great ones. My best idea yet is the inside of a door!”
“Huh? I don’t get you,” said Marc as he finished the last of his fish.
“Well, it would have to be something light weight like a piece of paper. You know, a will or an incriminating photograph or the number of a secret bank account in the Caymans. Just take the door off its hinges and cut a hole in the bottom. You could stash the goods and then glue the bottom piece back in. Who’d think to take a door off its hinges to look?”
Marc said, “You’d need a hollow door.”
“Not necessarily. Anyone who can use a saw could probably hollow out a small space. That would probably be better because no one would think to check a solid door. What do you think about dessert?”
“Ingenious,” said Marc.
“Dessert?”
“Hmm? No, the door thing. Ingenious. I like it!” The waitress came over to take their dishes. Marc said, “I’ll have coffee and the lady would like a dessert menu.”
“Lunch was good. He’s a really nice guy. Apparently, he’s got no close family. Seems to be all on his own. He thinks we should get an alarm system,” said Daisy as she hung up her coat after lunch.
“I knew I liked him,” Rose said with a smile. “We won’t need a Fido, Butch or Rover. We’ll have an alarm. I’ll even let you name it!”
“He also showed me the most beautiful roll top desk he got at auction last week. It’s Italian from the 1870s with gorgeous inlaid marquetry. And it’s got lots of little hidden holes and drawers. Just beautiful. I would love to buy it, but I’d have to sell Mother to afford it.”
“Speaking of Mother, she called and she’s dropping by shortly. She said she has a surprise,”
“This could be bad. Mother’s surprises aren’t always as delightful as she thinks they are. It took me a week to get the gum out of my hair from her last little surprise!”
The shop was quiet, so Daisy took a few minutes to sit in the sunroom and admire the last golden chrysanthemums of the season. She sighed contentedly.
And then the shop door opened and a black bolt of lightning seemed to shoot across the room and land at Rose’s feet.
“Malcolm, I told you not to do that. It gives the wrong impression. Malcolm, really, come back here now.” Angela Forrest stood in the doorway looking like she just stepped out of a wind tunnel, tendrils escaping from her blond chignon.
Smiling fondly she pronounced, “I got you a dog! A watchdog! Isn’t he wonderful? I was out and thinking about these break-ins and it dawned on me. A dog. ‘They need a dog,’ I said to myself.
“And there was a sign on the side of the road - ‘Free to Good Home’. So I pulled in and said I knew of a good home and there was Malcolm and he clearly was a most amazing dog. Why he hopped right into the car without even looking back. We waved good-bye and here we are. It was just meant to be.”
“Oh my God in heaven, this creature is the surprise,” said Rose as she tried to disengage Malcolm from humping her leg. “Get down, you idiot.”
Turning to her mother she said, “We can’t have a dog. Certainly, not this dog! He hasn’t been neutered, has he? He hasn’t had shots? Mother what were you thinking? A dog! He probably has fleas. I really don’t want a dog.”
Daisy walked around and picked the little mutt up. “But I do. Look at him. He’s obviously happy to be here. We’ll get him a dog house. We’ll take him to the vet. They have fantastic stuff now for fleas. It’ll be great.”
“Right, it’ll be wonderful. A watchdog that jumps into a complete stranger’s car. Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.
“And he is not sleeping on my bed. But it doesn’t matter because he has to go back. Mother, what were you thinking?!”
Calmly, Angela replied, “As I said, I was thinking about these break-ins. You can’t be too careful. And you don’t want a mean dog. This little guy will just make some noise and let you know if anybody shows up.”
Angela stopped for a breath and looked around the shop. Then she peered at Daisy. “Something’s different. You’re seeing someone, aren’t you? Who is he? What’s the 9-1-1?”
“That would be the 4-1-1, Mom, if anyone actually said that. And no, I am not seeing anyone. I just had lunch with our neighbor,” said Daisy as she fondled Malcolm’s head, then put him down to let him explore his new home.
“Are you sure?” asked Angela. “I’m pretty sure I’m right.”
“Well, yes Mom, I would know if I’m seeing someone.”
“No, 911. I’m sure I’ve heard it’s the 911.”
“No, no, Mother” said Rose. “911 - emergency. 411 - information. Just the way you dial on the phone. Malcolm, oh, my great googlie-mooglie! He’s humping the doorstop.”
Sure enough Malcolm was having quite the love fest with the stone bunny sitting by the door.
“Mom, did the former owners of this little charmer say why he was free to a good home?” asked Rose.
“Nothing specific. Just that he didn’t get along with their other animals. But I figured that since you don’t have any other animals, it wouldn’t matter.
“And I will have you know that he has been neutered and had his shots. Here are the papers proving it. And now I must fly. I found a lovely little lady who reads palms and gives manicures at the same time.” Angela whisked herself out the door.
“And out flies Hurricane Angela! She is a wonder. You sidestepped the dating issue pretty well,” said Rose as she picked up the bunny and put it on a shelf. “Do something with that dog. He can’t stay in here.”
“How could she tell I had a lunch date? Maybe her palmist told her. Or else Mother is the psychic. Okay Malcolm, how about walkies?” Daisy said as she got her coat and the leash Angela had left. Malcolm saw it and ran up to her wagging his little tail.
“I’m taking him for a short walk and then I think I’ll run up to the pet store and stock up on doggie supplies. I’m so excited! And you know you love him already.”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t go that far. But at least he’s small and I haven’t detected any fleas.”
Daisy came back from the pet store loaded down with food, toys, and a doggie igloo sticking out of the trunk. As she got out of the car she saw a tramp shambling down the street toward Marc’s shop. The same guy that had been in his doorway earlier. When he saw Daisy watching him, he just kept on going.
Chapter Two
Daisy had showered and dressed and was tying her shoes when she heard Rose shout, “Daisy! What is this dog doing in my bed? He’s licking my toes! I told you, he’s not allowed in my bed! I thought you paid some ungodly amount for that silly looking igloo so that he could sleep outside. Why is he in here?” Rose leaped out of bed and stomped to the bathroom.
“Because he loves you. You’ve really got to calm down. He’s a little dog, not a python. I thought he should sleep inside on his first night with us, so he’d recognize home. Besides, it’s really cold out,” answered Daisy.
“Cold? It’s fifty degrees. We could have slept outside quite cozily. I’ve agreed we can keep the dumb chum, but I will not have him sharing my bed. It would be just too sad if my onl
y bedmate turns out to be a humping pedicurist named Malcolm!”
“Oh, come on, Malcolm. Out of there. Let’s get ready for walkies. Come on, Rose. You too. Our schedule’s going to be shot to hell if we don’t get a move on.”
Their morning walk was unusually peaceful. The air was crisp and Malcolm was energetic and entertaining. Surprisingly, he heeled automatically, staying close, sniffing and chasing insects along the path.
The phone was ringing when they got home. Rose ran up the stairs just as the answering machine was hanging up. She played the message.
“Hello, Rose? Daisy? Can you come to the store right now? I need help. Please, right away. Hurry, please hurry. I don’t know what to do and I’m scared.”
“That was Hazel,” said Daisy. “We’d better get over there. I’ve never heard her upset like that before.”
They hurried down the block, turned onto Market and up the steps of the Book Renew. The door was open. Daisy tied Malcolm to the front porch rail and walked in to find Hazel standing in the middle of the store holding the phone in one hand and her cat in the other. The shop had been ransacked. Books were flung everywhere. One of the shelves lay on its side, the cat’s bed underneath.
“Roscoe won’t wake up. I think someone killed him.” Hazel held out the ball of fur and started to sob. Daisy took Roscoe and Rose hugged Hazel.
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Have you called the police?” asked Rose. She looked over at Daisy and silently asked her about the cat. Daisy shook her head as a tear glided down her face. She took off her coat and gently wrapped the cat in it. She carried the little bundle over to the door and set him down. Hazel saw this and burst out crying all over again.
Rose led Hazel to the back of the shop where she had a small kitchen. This room was untouched. She made tea adding a huge spoonful of sugar. “Here drink this and tell us what happened.”
Hazel sat there clutching the neck of her sweater in a tight fist. “Oh lord, I must look a mess.”
Rose had to smile. Hazel was one of those women who was always completely pulled together. The woman never wrinkled or dripped food down the front of her brand new white cashmere sweater that she had not gotten on sale. You could drop in on her at two in the morning and her nightgown, slippers and robe would all match. Her face would be freshly scrubbed, and she would somehow manage to swipe on some lip gloss and run a comb through her dark curls.
“You look fine Hazel. Really. Just tell us what happened.”
“Well, I don’t know. I got here at eight as usual. I like to get here early to feed the cat and tidy up before opening. The front door was ajar and when I pushed it open I saw all the mess. I started to leave, but I saw Roscoe on the floor. I ran over and picked him up.
“Then I called 911 and would you believe they put me on blasted hold!!! So I called you.” She glanced at the Daisy’s coat by the door and burst into tears again. “Oh, my poor Roscoe! He was such a sweet cat. It’s not fair. Who would do that to a cat?”
“Were you able to look around? Did they take anything?” asked Daisy trying to distract her from poor Roscoe.
“I don’t know,” she said shakily. “I guess I should look.” They went back into the shop. Hazel went through each corner of the room. In the back was a small alcove where she kept unpacked books. These had been emptied, too, and the boxes were torn apart. Otherwise nothing was damaged except the book shelf and cat bed.
“This is just odd. I don’t think anything is missing. I mean, I can’t be positive, of course. I keep my valuable books locked in the cupboard behind the register and that hasn’t been touched.”
“What was in the boxes in the alcove?” asked Rose.
“Some books I got at an estate sale in Baltimore the other day. I haven’t had a chance to go through them yet.”
Just as they were looking through the piles of books, there was a commotion on the porch. Malcolm was barking like a dog possessed and a young policeman from the Bostwick force was standing at the bottom of the steps.
Daisy ran out and said, “Malcolm, quiet!” and Malcolm immediately shut up and sat down. Daisy ruffled his head and undid the leash. She looked at the man and said, “Sorry. He’s excitable. Thank God you’re here.”
“I’m Officer Willis and I’m checking out a 911 call from this address. Are you the person who called?”
“No, I’m Daisy Greene. My sister and I own a shop around the corner. Hazel Monroe called. She’s the owner here and her shop’s been broken into. Someone ransacked the place and killed her cat! Please come in.”
Officer Willis and Daisy walked in and found Rose and Hazel sorting books. Rose said, “Hazel’s trying to see if anything is missing.”
Hazel looked at the young man and said, “Hold! I was put on hold! What if someone had still been in here? What then? It could be me, not my little Roscoe, lying in that coat.”
They all turned toward the coat to see Malcolm humping poor little Roscoe. Hazel let out an anguished howl, Rose uttered a stream of words referring to Malcolm’s parentage in an unfavorable light, and Daisy was about to grab Malcolm’s leash when a flash of orange fur leaped out of the coat and onto the highest shelf in the room. Hazel gasped, then drooped ever so gracefully onto a chair.
“You said he was dead,” hissed Rose to Daisy as she helped Hazel up.
“He looked dead. He was all floppy. What? I’m a vet? Besides I think Malcolm brought him back. He must have the gift,” said Daisy.
“The gift? What gift would that be? Sex maniac gift? Necrophiliac gift? Malcolm’s a humper. That is exactly what he is. No wonder they told Mother that he didn’t get along with the other animals!”
“Ladies, could someone just tell me what’s going on here?” asked Officer Willis.
“Yes. I can,” said a very shaky Hazel. “I got here this morning as usual at eight o’clock. The door was open and I saw Roscoe on the floor next to his bed. I called 911 and, as I said, was put on hold! Then I called Rose and Daisy because they live right above their shop and I stood right there until they got here.”
“Do you know if anything’s missing?”
“Well, I don’t think so.”
“What’s upstairs? Has anyone been up there?”
Daisy, Rose and Hazel all looked shocked as they realized that someone could still be in the building. Daisy said, “No, we checked all the rooms down here. The kitchen wasn’t touched. Or the bathroom. But we didn’t think to check upstairs.”
“Okay, ladies. Please stay right here and let me take a look.” Willis started up the stairs with his gun drawn.
“Malcolm, go with him. Go boy. Go help the nice policeman,” called Daisy. Malcolm looked at her and then started up the stairs. “I swear he can understand everything I’m saying. He’s a dog genius.”
Rose rolled her eyes and said, “Well, he’s a dog something, I’ll give you that!”
Officer Willis came down the stairs and said, “All clear up there. Well, Ms. Monroe, quite honestly it looks like vandals. Probably some kids with nothing better to do.
“Sorry this happened to you, ma’am. I’ll write this up and get a copy of the report to you. And a technician will be out here to check for fingerprints on the door and the bookshelves. We don’t normally do that, but with the number of intrusions there have been in this neighborhood lately, the Captain wants to cover the bases in case we get a suspect.”
He looked around once more quickly, made some notes and said, “We’ll also get the patrol cars around here more often. And please call if anything looks suspicious. Good morning to you ladies.”
Rose said, “Come on girls. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”
Hazel shook her head. “No. Thanks, but you have your own shop to open and I just can’t face this right now. I’m putting the closed sign up, going home and crawling back into bed. Just let me put Roscoe’s food out and I’ll be off.”
“You’re leaving him here? asked Daisy.
Hazel looked surprised. “Yes. This
is his home. He’s used to it.”
“Of course, he is. Well, call us if we can help.”
They got back to the shop and spent the morning talking to several of their neighbors who dropped in to see what the commotion at the book store had been. Around two o’clock Jeff Moody, a reporter from the Bostwick Bulletin, came in and asked them about the break-in at Hazel’s.
Daisy said, “You should really talk to Hazel.”
“I tried, but nobody’s at the shop and she’s not answering her phone.”
“I don’t blame her. I don’t have anything much to tell you. Someone broke in and made a mess of the place. We called the police. And that’s about it.”
After he left, Rose called security firms and asked to get estimates for an alarm system.
As Daisy and Rose were getting ready for bed, Rose asked where Malcolm was.
“In his igloo. You wanted him outside.”
Rose took a deep breath and said, “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but why don’t we bring him in. For tonight anyway. At least until we get the alarm system. I mean he really did bark up a storm at that policeman. Just keep him out of my bed and away from my toes.”
The next day a woman from Pendleton Alarm came out to talk to them about the different types of alarm systems. Rose and Daisy settled on a system that they could use to alarm just the shop, just the apartment, or both. The woman suggested two key pads, one inside the shop and one in the apartment. She also recommended that the system connect directly with the police department, as well as Pendleton’s office.
By Thursday morning their new alarm system was installed. After some discussion they settled on a security code, 0317, Angela Forrest’s birthday.
“It needs to be a code she’ll remember. You know how she just pops in whenever the mood moves her. Her birthday should be something she can remember,” said Daisy.
“One would hope,” answered Rose.
The Shop Owners of Old Towne Association called a meeting for eight o’clock Saturday morning to discuss the recent burglaries. Ten of the thirty or so owners were able to make it. They met at Champagne Taste and crowded into the sunroom. Walt Miller who owned a bakery/delicatessen brought coffee cake and doughnuts. The morning was beautiful, with sunlight streaming in through the French doors. If they hadn’t been so on edge, it would have been a nice little coffee klatch.
Roses and Daisies and Death Oh My! Page 2