Ida May purred with anger beside me. “How much is missing from the inventory?”
“About two thousand dollars worth.”
“That’s a lot of broken furniture.”
Susan shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps.”
Ida May and Hazel continued to probe her for a few more minutes, but they didn’t seem to get any more out of her. As I watched, her eyes anxiously darting between the two of them, I became distinctly aware of how calm she really was given the circumstances and, as the conversation progressed, a rather unsettling feeling crawled into my stomach – a strange feeling that wasn’t easily swayed even when Betty finally returned with Percy.
“I’ve sold the gentleman a stool.”
True enough, Percy had in his hand a rather pathetic-looking stool. He smiled up at us, his eyes glistening with insecurity as he turned to Ida May.
“I’m not sure it’s quite what I’m after…”
“Nonsense, Percy,” Ida May replied, quickly grabbing his arm and pretending to admire the nondescript stool. “I think it’s perfect. And, besides, you have been going on about this place all of yesterday. It’d be a shame to walk out without anything now…”
“I did?”
Percy spluttered slightly as Ida May jabbed her elbow into his side. “Just pay the woman, Butch. We don’t want to take up too much of their time.”
The transaction was over in a few moments. Percy had bought his stool. Betty had made a sale that day. Only the latter seemed pleased with their work and, as she trotted back towards the side room, Percy frowned down at the change in his hand with the look of a man who’d just been conned out of everything he ever owned. He turned slowly to Susan and held out the change for her to see.
“Excuse me, “ he muttered. “I think I’ve been short changed. I’m a good ten dollars short.”
“Oh,” Susan replied, becoming a little flustered as she stared down at the collection of notes in Percy’s hand. “So you are. Sorry…”
She quickly rectified the problem, but Percy still seemed sullen as he stared down at the odd looking stool at his feet.
“Might that be the problem?” I asked, stepping around Percy and staring straight into Susan’s eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Your missing stock? Might it just be that Betty giving the wrong change to customers.”
Susan laughed. “I doubt it. We don’t see that much business. She’d have to undercharge hundreds of customers to make a two grand loss. And besides, it doesn’t account for the missing items in the inventory…”
Susan was right, but then again I already knew that before I’d even asked the question. I hadn’t believed that Betty was responsible for the missing furniture, and I certainly wasn’t convinced by Susan’s explanation that Betty was hiding multiple breakages.
And now, having seen how eagerly Susan leaped to Betty’s defense, I was certain that she wasn’t convinced by it either…
Chapter Five – The Amish Boy
I continued to probe Susan for a long while after that. I asked about her husband and the conversation we’d overheard the previous day. Susan looked shocked for a moment, but seemed perfectly willing to discuss their money difficulties.
Susan and Gary had fallen behind with a number of payments – the most worrying of which was the mortgage for their house. Gary’s carpentry business had hit a bit of a slow patch and, what with the furniture going missing from the store, the situation was becoming dangerous.
“You see we pay rent on this place and Gary’s workshop,” she explained. “So we have to make those payments every month otherwise we’ve have no way to earn…”
“Could you combine the two?” Percy suggested. “Have him set up a workshop in the back here, maybe?”
“We could,” Susan agreed, gesturing around the room. “But where would all the furniture that we have in stock go? It’s crowded enough in here as it is.”
Percy nodded his understanding. It seemed to me that he’d forgotten about buying the stool and was now beginning to embrace his new honorary role in our group. He continued to talk to Susan with such enthusiasm that I was perfectly happy to just sit back and listen, although part of me was constantly aware that Ida May and Hazel had broken away from us and were once again skirting their way around the shop towards the back room.
They loitered by the same wardrobe that Ida May and I had hidden in, examining it as though it was something completely new to them. For a long while I wasn’t entirely sure what they were up to. But when Betty reappeared from the back room and made her way briskly across the shop, it became apparent immediately. The moment the assistant’s back was turned, Ida May grabbed Hazel’s arm and the two of them vanished into the back room without anyone being any the wiser…
“What are we looking for, Ida May?” Hazel asked, watching as Ida May made her way quickly to a desk at the far corner of the room.
Ida May didn’t answer her straight away. Her fingers nimbly pulled open drawer after drawer until, having failed to find what she was looking for, she pushed them all shut and turned to examine the rest of the room.
I never stepped inside the office, so I am reliant on Hazel and Ida May’s description of what was in there – unfortunately for me, the two descriptions couldn’t be more unhelpful.
According to Ida May, it was:
“An absolute disgrace. There were papers everywhere: on the desk, in the drawers, discarded on the floor. God knows how she managed to keep track of her accounts with the state that office was in. It looked like a bomb had gone off in there…”
Hazel’s description was perhaps a little more kind, and yet so simplistic that I hardly needed her input at all:
“It’s an office,” she’d said.
I’m not entirely sure what happened next. What I do know is that the two of them began to search the rest of the room, and during that search a document was discovered:
“It was in a filing cabinet,” Ida May explained later on. “In the far corner of the room, hidden behind a tower of broken bits of furniture. We might never have found it, if I hadn’t noticed the furniture wasn’t stacked firmly against the wall…”
Hazel, naturally, had a slightly different version of events.
“There was a filing cabinet next to the wall,” she said. “I’m not sure why Ida May didn’t go straight to it considering she already thought she knew what she was looking for. In the end, I went over and started searching through the files…”
I’ll leave you to decide which version is more accurate…
****
The pair of them stared down at the document. It took them a moment or two to skim read the first couple of paragraphs, but that was all they needed to do. As Ida May lowered the document she stared at Hazel, whose mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“Well,” Hazel said eventually, shaking her head slowly back and forth. “The mystery thickens. There really are some strange goings on, aren’t there?”
Ida May nodded and glanced back down at the document in her hand.
“Furniture goes missing, Susan and Gary are having money problems, and now this…” She bit her lip and thought for a moment. “I’m not surprised she has insurance against theft, but when you put it all together…”
“So, you believe it to?”
Ida May nodded solemnly. “The evidence is very compelling.”
Hazel gave a low whistle and stared in admiration at the insurance document. “So, do you think she’s some kind of psychic?”
The question was unexpected and caught Ida May completely off guard. She very nearly nodded her agreement, but her sharp wit stopped her just in time. She turned abruptly towards Hazel, narrowing her eyes on her and allowing her mouth to fall open slightly.
“What are you talking about?”
“The same thing you’re talking about?”
“Then what have psychics got to do with it?”
“Well,” Hazel said confidently, “you know. T
hat’s the only explanation.”
“For what?”
“For the fact that she was able to predict that her furniture was going to be stolen.”
It’s at times like this when I feel particularly sorry for Ida May and yet, on the flip side, it’s times like this when I really wish I’d been with them just to see the look of pure exasperation on her face.
“Hazel, I’m talking about Susan shorting her own shop for the insurance money. What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a sensible store owner who predicted that her furniture would be stolen…”
Ida May nearly burst out laughing. “Because she’s a psychic?”
“Can you think of a better explanation?”
Ida May could think of plenty of explanations that were more realistic than Susan being a psychic, but she didn’t have time to explain them all to Hazel. At that precise moment, a clatter of footsteps moved rapidly towards them from the shop and Ida May had just enough time to shove the insurance document into her handbag before Betty stepped into the office.
She stared at Ida May and Hazel, a forced smile stuck on her face although her eyes glanced at them with the deepest of suspicion.
“This area isn’t open to the public,” she said slowly.
Ida May and Hazel exchanged glances, each of them looking to the other to come up with an explanation for their presence in the back room. Had either of them thought about it at the time, they might have simply told the truth. But things are never that simple with Ida May and Hazel.
“We… eh…”
Hazel stepped forward confidently. “I was looking for the restroom,” she said, glancing around the office. “I could have sworn it was right here yesterday.”
Again, I wish I’d been there to see the look on Ida May’s face as Hazel confidently gestured to an area next to the desk. Betty stared at Hazel for a short while, her eyes seeming to pierce into Hazel’s as though trying to detect any hint of foul play. But then, after a moment had passed, her face lit up with a real smile and she let out a short chuckle.
“It happens to me all the time too,” she replied. “I’ve lost that restroom so many times, it’s hard to keep track. Here, I’ll show you where…”
There was a sharp knock on the back door. Without waiting for a response, the door was pushed open and a young man stepped inside. I say he was a young man – more like an old boy. He was probably fifteen or sixteen at most but the descriptions that Ida May and Hazel gave of him were so distinctive that there was no doubting what he was, if not who…
“He was a lovely looking young man,” Ida had described him. “Probably about sixteen dressed in a simple black coat with no pockets and a pair of black trousers held up by two suspenders…”
Hazel’s description was far more to the point. “He was a lovely, Amish lad.”
As he stepped inside the office, the Amish boy seemed to freeze as his eyes fell on Ida May who was the closest to the door. He stared at her in abject terror until his eyes finally drifted over and focused on Betty. Only then did he seem to relax, although he breathed heavily for a good few minutes afterward.
“Delivery, Miss Betty.”
“Thank you, Jebediah,” Betty replied. “If you can bring it in, I’m sure Susan will find somewhere to put it all…”
“Yes, miss…”
Jebediah doffed his straw hat and turned to step back outside. As he did, Hazel darted forward and grasped hold of his hand. Her touch almost made the poor boy jump out of his skin. He recoiled his hand and stared at her as she seemed to examine every aspect of his face.
“I know you, don’t I?”
Jebediah shook his head. “I don’t think so, ma’am.”
“No, I do,” Hazel replied excitedly. “You live on the farm where I get my chickens from, don’t you? The Graber Farm?”
Jebediah appeared to relax. He gave a small, if restricted smile.
“In that case, probably, ma’am. That farm belongs to my uncle…”
“Such a lovely place,” Hazel continued. “I keep telling my friends about it, but I have no way of getting in touch with your uncle to find out if he’d mind us popping by for a little tour…”
A flash of something sprung across Jebediah’s face. “No, we don’t have telephone’s, ma’am. But I’m sure my uncle will be more than obliged for you to stop by sometime. I can pass on the message so he knows to expect you, if you’d like?”
In as little as a few words, Jebediah had made Hazel’s day. And as he headed back outside to load up with more furniture, Hazel turned to Ida May and whispered:
“Such a lovely young man…”
Ida May wasn’t convinced.
At least, that’s what Ida May told me…
Chapter Six – Chocolate Threats
We regrouped shortly afterwards and made our way down the street. We stopped briefly to deposit Percy’s stool in the back of the van and headed straight for a little chocolate shop that Hazel had mentioned was a couple of hundred meters further down the road. We all took to the idea with relish, but no one was more enthusiastic than Percy who excitedly nattered about what kinds of chocolates there were on offer.
By the time we reached the shop, we had firmly established that Percy was something of a connoisseur when it came to chocolate and, forgetting any sense of politeness or protocol, he bounded straight inside without even stopping to hold the door open for us. I half expected Ida May to say something, but she seemed to be enjoying Percy’s boyish glee so much that she simply stepped inside after him and immediately began to browse the store.
And there was plenty to browse.
For such a small town, particularly one so close to the Amish community, this chocolate shop was full to bursting with all manner of sweet goodies: wrapped chocolates, candy bars, chocolate biscuits, hot chocolate, chocolate coffee. There was even a small area at the far end where they sold their own store-made chocolate hampers filled with fruit chocolates, toffee and caramel centers, Turkish Delight, chocolates with nut centers like Brazil nuts and Hazel nuts. White chocolate, dark chocolate, milk chocolate – even that weird praline chocolate that Hazel absolutely adores.
It’s fair to say it wasn’t just Percy who was in heaven…
By the time we left – which was a considerable amount of time to say the least – it was already getting well on to midday. Our arms were full with boxes and bags of chocolates – Percy even had a small tower, which he delightfully paraded in front of anyone who seemed to pass us by. We made our way slowly back to the van, with Percy still showing off his haul right up until we found ourselves face to face with a rather annoyed looking Gary.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” he demanded, almost bashing Percy’s tower down so he could stare into his eyes. “What sort of game are you all playing?”
“I… I…” Percy stuttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Don’t give me that, you little creep. You and you geriatric harem here are poking your noses into my business…”
“Geriatric what?” Hazel asked, her eyes wide with confusion.
“He means we’re Percy’s sex group,” I explained.
“Oh,” Hazel replied shrugging her shoulders with little concern before staring vaguely at the floor.
“I think you’re an incredibly rude man,” shot back Ida May, setting her bags of chocolates on the ground and stepping forward towards Gary. “Suspiciously rude given the circumstances…”
Gary raised a single finger so close to Ida May’s face that I half expected her to bite it off.
“I don’t know who you think you are…”
“We are the We’re Not Dead Yet Club.”
Percy’s announcement was said with such self-assuredness that any onlooker would have expected that to mean something to the angry looking man in front of us. As it was, he simply stared at Percy for a moment, blinked twice and then turned his attention back to Ida May.
“If you continue to poke your noses into my business…”
“I was rather under the impression it was your wife’s business,” Ida May replied, coolly. “And given she was the one who brought this to our attention, I don’t see what concern it is of yours…”
“If you don’t leave this alone…”
“You’ll do what, Gary?”
Gary stuttered to a halt. That’s the problem with empty threats – when someone challenges you, you don’t really have anything to fall back on.
“If you continue to interfere, I’ll have no choice but to call the police…”
“Go ahead,” Ida May replied confidently. “I’m sure they’ll be interested in how you threatened three old ladies…”
“And an old man,” chipped in Percy, prompting a sharp look from Gary.
Gary considered us for a moment, his eyes staring daggers at each of us.
“We don’t need your help,” he said finally. “So, stay out of it or you’ll live to regret it…”
He spun on his heels and marched off back towards the furniture shop. Ida May smiled as he moved away before slowly turning back towards us, chuckling as she picked up her bags once again.
“What a disagreeable oaf,” she muttered.
“Maybe he’s right,” Percy said quietly. “We don’t want to get on the wrong side of him…”
Ida May laughed. “There’s only one carpenter that I’m not meant to get on the wrong side of…” she said, gesturing in the direction of a church on the far side of the street. “… And unfortunately I do things to annoy him on a daily basis.”
Percy and I laughed and the four of us began to make our way back to the van. We’d only moved a short distance when Hazel finally spoke:
“I don’t know why we’d be Percy’s sex group,” she said, almost to herself. “I’d always thought he was gay…”
Chapter Seven – Hard Times
Pinched, Pilfered and a Pitchfork (We're Not Dead Yet Club Book 4) Page 3