Nicoline appeared in the doorway. “I am sorry to interrupt, but we have a number of customers.”
Gail and I stood up. “I appreciate you coming to see me. I planned to talk to you, but hadn’t made it yet,” I said.
She nodded. “Maybe we’ll talk again.”
• • • • • • • •
A new wave of shoppers kept us busy until noon. “Why don’t you take a lunch break, Nicoline?”
“I am fine. I noticed when I hung my coat in the back room that the box I put back there for you is still unopened. Would you like me to unpack it now?”
The box I kept forgetting about. “Sure, that’d be great.” I reached in a drawer behind the counter, found the box cutter, and gave it to her. “Here you go, to cut through the packing tape.”
She took it and headed to the storeroom.
I’d started gathering together the credit card receipts we had thrown into a drawer when Nicoline returned with the open box. She set it on the checkout counter and I peeked into it. The smaller boxes inside were arranged like the last order they’d sent. Nicoline withdrew one, opened it, and pulled out a snow globe. “Very pretty,” she said.
I took it from her and gave it a shake. It featured a baby polar bear lying beside an adult bear in a wood. “This company sure seems to like bear scenes,” I said.
“I like it.”
“So do I. This one anyway.”
Nicoline’s mouth formed an O.
We each took a turn removing a box and opening it up. But the next one I picked up was weightless. “That’s odd.” I opened it and confirmed there was nothing inside. I held it so Nicoline could see for herself. “How in the world did they not notice that?”
Nicoline shook her head and looked away. It seemed she had shut herself off for a second, as she sometimes did.
“We’ll have to let them know,” I said and set the empty Three Bears by River box on a shelf under the counter. I found the wholesale prices on the invoice and marked the snow globes accordingly. Then Nicoline found tasteful ways to show them off on the shelves. I looked at the invoice. A funny feeling ran through me as I read the name Three Bears by River again. The last three bears snow globe we’d gotten had been used in a crime. I was not an overly superstitious person, but I started thinking maybe something bad would have happened to the person who purchased it. Like it had to the mayor.
There were people who believed objects could be cursed. I’d seen a special on the Hope Diamond. It was over 45 carats and had been cut from the 68 carat French Blue Diamond to disguise it after it was stolen from the French Crown Jewels. The French Blue had been cut from the Tavernier Blue Diamond, a gigantic gem of nearly 120 carats. One legend was that a man named John-Baptiste Tavernier had stolen it from a Hindu goddess statue in India, and then brought it back to France. The diamond had been one of her eyes, and when the priests discovered it was missing they put a curse on whoever had stolen it.
The program didn’t say what, if anything, happened to the other eye or if any of the other diamonds cut from the Tavernier were involved in unfortunate events, but the Hope Diamond had supposedly claimed at least ten victims. Truth or fabrication, I had no idea. The jury was still out on that one as far as I was concerned.
I lifted the invoice from the counter and saw a penny lying underneath it. Heads up, Cami. I shook my head and slid the penny next to a jar of pens we kept by the cash register. Nicoline finished her shelf arrangements. “I would like a short break to go on a walk, if that is okay.”
“That’s fine, and take time to eat, if you’d like. It seems like everyone in town shopped this morning with the way it’s quieted down.”
Nicoline grabbed her coat and backpack from the storeroom and headed out the door. I jogged over to the door then braved the cold and stepped outside to watch where she was headed. I couldn’t quite get a handle on her. She wore a protective shell around herself, and whatever secrets she was keeping about her life were locked inside. Nicoline went north to the end of the block, crossed the street then walked to the end of the next block and turned right so I lost sight of her.
I stepped back into Curio Finds and vigorously rubbed my arms to warm them up. I went into Brew Ha-Ha and found Erin behind the serving counter and Pinky sitting on a stool drinking a glass of water. “Hey, girls, can I swap cars with one of you for a while tonight?” I said and sat down next to Pinky.
She turned and looked at me like I’d asked her to fly me to the moon. Erin threw a dish towel at me and crossed her arms on her waist. “Cami, I know you must have a good reason for this rather strange request,” Erin said.
“I do.”
“What is it?” Pinky said like she really didn’t want to hear the answer.
“I want to find out where Nicoline lives, and she’s seen my Subaru so she knows what I drive.”
“You’ve got her job application, look at her address.”
“It’s a PO Box.”
“How about asking her?” Pinky said.
“I did that a couple of days ago, and she evaded the question.”
“And you still thought it was a good idea to hire her. Why?” Erin said.
“For one thing, she’s creative and does a great job arranging the merchandise. She’s a hard and willing worker. And I think she’s got an undesirable home situation.”
“I’m with Cami on finding a way to help Nicoline get out of a bad relationship, if that’s what it is,” Pinky said.
Erin nodded. “As a teacher I agree with you, you need to at least try. So you can swap cars with me, Cami. I’ll stay until closing.”
• • • • • • • •
Erin was my partner in crime. A little before five o’clock she went to the lot behind our shops, got her car, and parked on the street out front, one space back, so it wasn’t directly in front of Brew Ha-Ha. I’d carried my coat and hung it on the rack in the coffee shop earlier without Nicoline noticing.
“Nicoline,” I said pointing at the clock, “It’s time to call it a day.”
She nodded. “It has been a good day. Thank you.”
“Thank you. We appreciate you helping us out like this. You have no idea.”
We’d agreed on a tentative schedule earlier. Pinky and I took turns opening Brew Ha-Ha on Sundays, and most of the year it was doable for one person to manage both shops. But it had been extra busy, so for the meantime, we’d set Pinky’s shop to open at 8:00—an hour later than the other six days—and my shop opened at noon. Both shops closed at 4:00 on Sundays.
Nicoline got her things. “So I will be in at noon tomorrow.”
I nodded and smiled. “See you then, and have a good evening, Nicoline.”
“And you as well.” Nicoline waved as she left the shop.
I made a mad dash, as fast as my body would carry me, grabbed my coat off the rack, and pulled it on with what seemed like lightning speed. “Good luck,” Erin called as I scurried out the door. I took a quick glance down the sidewalk to be sure Nicoline hadn’t stopped, and when I saw her walking away, I jumped into Erin’s warming vehicle. When Nicoline was halfway down the next block, I shifted into drive and followed her.
She made her turn, and I didn’t want to lose her, so I braved the turn myself. She headed into the historic Huber Hotel. I pulled over to the curb and stopped. It was a four-story building that dated back to the early 1900s, about the same era as our shops. A large gathering area lobby, front desk, and owner’s apartment comprised the first floor. The next two floors had sleeping rooms, rented by the day, week, or the month. There were a few studio and one bedroom apartments on the fourth floor.
I was able to see Nicoline through the large front window of the building. She headed directly to the staircase located on the far side of the carved wooden desk, and was no longer visible after the third step. I sat there wondering if she was staying th
ere, or if that was where her uncle lived and she’d stopped by to visit him. I stayed in the car for some minutes then decided to have a chat with the young male clerk sitting behind the front desk.
He looked up at me from his iPad when I walked in. “Greetings, are you looking for a room?”
“No, actually, I’m looking for my friend.” I held up my gloves. “I need to give these to her, but I don’t have her room number. Nicoline Ahlens.”
He held out his hand. “I can take care of that for you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll just run them up.”
“You might want to take the elevator, since they’re on the fourth floor, room four-oh-four.”
I nodded but ignored his suggestion, maybe to show him I was not as out of shape as I may have looked. Three flights of stairs up and back down again would be like a short workout at the health club. And if I’d gotten more aerobic exercise lately, it wouldn’t have been as tough as it proved to be. Of course the heavy coat didn’t help. My heart was pumping and must’ve doubled its beats in the minutes it took me to reach the fourth floor. Add to that the apprehension I felt wondering what I’d say if I ran into Nicoline.
The room at the top of the stairs was 401. The hallway was open both directions, and I took a right. I was glad she wasn’t in 402 because she would have had a view of the street where I’d parked from her windows. As I was about to round the corner from 403 to 404, I heard its door open with a slight creak. I threw my back against the wall knowing there was no place to hide, no place to run without being seen.
I heard Nicoline’s voice say, “All right.” Then the door closed with another creak, followed by heavy footfalls. The aging wood floor let out sounds of protest under the weight. The person headed the opposite direction, and I uttered a silent thank-you. I knew it wasn’t Nicoline because she was “a little slip of a thing.” The person walking down the hallway was much heftier, and I assumed it was her uncle. When he stopped I held my breath until I heard the elevator doors open and close again after he’d stepped inside.
I crept closer to room 404, staying near the wall where the floor was tighter and not as squeaky. The apartment door didn’t have a peephole so I wouldn’t be seen unless someone opened it. I stopped and stared for a moment. The old hotel seemed like an odd housing choice for a young woman. But then again, she was old-fashioned in many ways. I stuffed my gloves in my pocket then moved past her door to the stairway and down the steps. I was actually sweating by the time I reached the lobby. The clerk glanced at me then nodded when I said, “Mission accomplished.” My hope was he wouldn’t mention my visit to Nicoline.
I started Erin’s car, drove a block then turned around so I had eyes on the hotel to watch any comings and goings for a while. The clerk had recognized Nicoline’s name as a guest or resident, confirming she lived there, and had allowed me to go up to her apartment. I’d heard about some questionable people that had overstayed their welcome at the hotel in the past and were asked to leave. It was a good indication there wasn’t a bunch of unsavory characters bothering Nicoline anyway. Outside of her uncle, that is. After there had been no activity for ten minutes, it was time to call it quits.
• • • • • • • •
“Well?” was the first word out of Erin’s mouth when I got back to Brew Ha-Ha. She frowned when I told her where Nicoline lived. “I wonder if that means she’s not planning on being in town long.”
I dropped my coat on a counter stool and sat down on another. “Not if she signed a lease. I don’t know if they have to there, or if people can rent apartments by the month.” I thought about my past impressions of the hotel. “Erin, remember when we were young, it seemed like more of an old folks’ home.”
“It did. You’d walk by and see older people sitting in the lobby reading or playing checkers.”
“That’s right. I don’t know what the rooms are like, but it’s pretty nice inside with the old wood-paneled walls. Plus, it’s clean.”
Erin smiled. “If you say it is, then it must be so, Ms. Clean. And you’re right, I have no idea how long people stay there.”
“You weren’t swamped when I was gone?”
“Hardly. Only one couple stopped by for coffees to go.”
“I doubt we’ll have much more business in the next half hour ’til closing. I’ve got paperwork to keep me busy, so go ahead and take off.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” When she came around from behind the counter I gave her a hug. “Thanks again.”
“Ah, sorry, I almost forgot, Emmy called and she’s got bronchitis, so the doctor put her on antibiotics and gave her strict orders to rest as much as possible until she gets better.”
“Bronchitis. Yeah, she needs to take it easy, all right. But now that we’ve got Nicoline to fill in for her, Emmy won’t have to feel pressured to rush back.”
15
I sat at my checkout counter contemplating all that had happened since the day Frosty had died. The police were putting in overly long days interviewing lists of people I wasn’t privy to. Gail Spindler had given me her take on Rosalie Gorman, but when she said she didn’t like to talk negatively about her fellow council members, I decided not to press her about Harley Creighton, too. Wendell Lyon was the last councilor still on my list.
The overhead lights in the shop went off for no good reason, but the ones in Brew Ha-Ha kept me from being in total darkness. I said, “Not funny, Molly,” and the lights came on again. If I was really talking to a ghost, at least she was listening and responding. “You are not crazy, Cami. Just keep telling yourself that.” I picked up the penny I’d found on the counter earlier and stuck it in my pocket.
It took me a minute to get my train of thought back on track. Wendell Lyon. No time like the present. His home phone was listed on the city website, so I tried the number and he answered right away. “Wendell speaking.”
“Hello, Mr. Lyon, it’s Camryn Brooks.”
“Yes, Camryn, I’ve been meaning to contact you, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be ready to talk about, um, things.”
I wasn’t clear on what he meant. “Talk about things?”
“Specifically, Mayor Frost’s death.”
“It’s okay, I can talk about it. But I’d rather do that in person.”
“I agree. Would you like to meet somewhere?”
“I’m at Curio Finds now, or I could swing by your house a little later.”
“I’ll tell you what. I need to go the drugstore anyway, so how about I meet you at your shop first. Does that work for you?”
“That’d be fine.”
Waiting for Wendell gave me a little time so I picked up Nicoline’s job application. Her phone number had a Boston, Massachusetts, area code, as did her two references. Perhaps I had jumped the gun, hiring her on the spot without checking her job references first. Then again, we hadn’t dug into either Emmy’s or Molly’s backgrounds before we’d hired them, either. But I knew enough about them to believe they’d be trustworthy employees.
With Nicoline, it was different. I couldn’t give her my full measure of trust for a couple of reasons. Mainly because she didn’t completely trust me, not enough to tell me what was happening to her at home. She’d lied about how she’d been injured, and to me that meant she was protecting someone she shouldn’t be, one who should be held accountable instead.
The other reason was—and it was another aspect of the trust issue—there were times I’d noticed her with a peculiar expression on her face. It was as though she was contemplating something that caused her to feel both pained and guilty, like when we’d discovered the snow globe was missing. Nicoline was a conflicted young woman, if nothing else.
I’d been so lost in thought it caught me by surprise when the shop door opened and Wendell Lyon walked in and up to the counter. We shook hands. He was in his mid-sixties and sported a neatly trimmed
gray beard. There was a twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t come across on the video. Maybe it wasn’t there during the heated meeting. “Thanks for meeting with me, Mr. Lyon.”
He smiled. “Glad it worked out. And call me Wendell.”
I pointed at the coffee shop. “Let’s go sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks. We had an early supper and I’m stuffed.” We headed to the back area of Brew Ha-Ha and took our seats. Wendell slipped his arms out of his jacket but kept it around him. “There’s something you wanted to talk to me about?” he said.
“Yes, a couple of things. The police are investigating Mayor Frost’s death, of course. But since I’m the one who found him, it makes me want to help out as much as I can.”
“I can understand that.”
“Wendell, you’re the council member that’s known for doing his homework and asking pertinent questions.”
“That’s the attorney in me, what I was trained to do.”
“I thought you had a tax business.”
“I do now. I opened it after I stopped practicing.”
“Got it. I watched Tuesday night’s meeting video, and things got pretty intense.”
“Tell me about it. I can sympathize with Harley and the problem he has with establishments that sell alcohol. That’s why I voted with him on that issue, more as a support for him than anything else. I’m not opposed to a microbrewery, and I figured it would pass without my vote, judging by the positive response it’s gotten from so many of our residents.”
“Why is Harley against places that serve alcohol?”
“It’s not a secret that he and his wife both had serious drinking problems when they were young. Harley sobered up, and this is many years ago, but his wife didn’t. She’d been overserved in a bar one afternoon then picked up their daughter from daycare, and crashed her car. They were both killed.”
I sucked in a breath. “That’s awful. Didn’t the daycare people notice she was drunk?”
“Apparently not. But seasoned drinkers don’t always exhibit obvious signs of impairment.”
Frosty the Dead Man (A Snow Globe Shop Mystery) Page 16