A Veiled Antiquity (Torie O'Shea Mysteries)

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A Veiled Antiquity (Torie O'Shea Mysteries) Page 13

by MacPherson, Rett


  I darted back to the desk, after I shut the office door and locked it.

  “Sheriff?” I asked. I gulped air and tried to get my pulse below 120. “Get over here, right now.”

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “But I am not leaving this office without an escort.”

  * * *

  “It could have been the ghost of Hermann Gaheimer,” Sheriff Brooke said to me in my kitchen.

  “Hardy har har,” I said.

  “Ghost?” Rachel asked, her eyes wide with fear. “Like from a dead person?”

  “It’s the only kind of ghost that I know of,” the sheriff mused.

  “Mom,” I said, “tell him to quit scaring the kids.”

  “Colin, quit scaring Torie,” my mother said and laughed.

  “Fine. You all just pick on me,” I said. “I know something or somebody was there. Not only could I hear it, but I got the feeling, you know?”

  “What feeling?” Rachel asked. She looked more scared now than before.

  “The feeling when you know somebody is there. When you can feel eyes on you.”

  “Mom, you’re scaring me,” Rachel said.

  “And you were worried about what I said?” the sheriff asked.

  “Shut up,” I said. “Please, just hush. I can be scared if I want to without feeling guilty about it.”

  “Of course you can,” Rudy said from the hall.

  “Hi, sweetie,” I answered.

  Rudy came over to me and kissed me on the lips. He looked deep into my eyes. His eyes were the perfect color of chocolate. And, oh, how I love chocolate. “You look like you could use a night out.”

  “I agree,” the sheriff said.

  “Mom?” Rudy asked. “Would you care to watch the girls tonight while I take my wife out to dinner?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “And a movie?” he asked me.

  For the first time in my life I actually didn’t want to go to a movie. I wanted to crawl under my covers and hide until next year. I didn’t care if I missed Christmas.

  But it was not that often that Rudy asked me out. We went out as the result of me asking him or another couple asking us. He did not extend the invitation himself that often.

  “That sounds lovely,” I said.

  Twenty

  From Rudy’s point of view, it was a disaster.

  “Of all the places I could have picked in New Kassel,” he said, “I had to pick Ye Olde Train Depot.” He was hiding behind his menu in an effort to be invisible. “I could have picked Frauline Krista’s, The Log Cabin, hell, we could have gone to Velasco’s for pizza. I even could have taken you in to Arnold for Steak-n-Shake, but no. No. I pick the Train Depot and half of New Kassel is here. The half that we don’t want to see, I might add.”

  He was right. Eleanore and Oscar Murdoch were seated by the fireplace, the mayor and his wife were two tables away, and right smack dab in the middle of the room was a table with none other than Lanny Lockheart and Andrew Wheaton.

  “Sorry,” I said. Not that it made him feel any better. “We could leave and run over to Velasco’s.”

  “Are you kidding? If we leave after we’ve been seated it will cause more of a sensation than if we stay. Which, I’ll have you know, I am not looking forward to.”

  Rudy looked really handsome in his salmon pink oxford and navy pants. He even wore a tie. It happened to be his tie with Captain Kirk on it, but it was still a tie. I was dressed in navy pants and a red angora sweater that had red and white sequins around the collar. I was allergic to angora, but I could suffer through the itchy nose and watery eyes the two times a year that I wore this sweater.

  “Well, if it makes you feel better,” I said, “we have yet to be detected by anybody other than the mayor and his wife. They waved when we first came in. Oh, scratch that. Eleanore just waved.”

  I gave a little wave to her across the room. Rudy sank farther behind his menu. “Oh, Rudy, put that blasted menu down and act right. You look like a poor James Bond impression.”

  “Really?” he said and sat up straight. “Poor James Bond is better than no James Bond.”

  God.

  “Now let’s just have our dinner and get out of here.”

  “Sure, you’re right. I’m overreacting.”

  “For once it’s you and not me,” I said.

  Our waiter showed up in his black pants and white pristine shirt. He was as blond as he could be, had hazel eyes, and was quite tall. He looked to be about twenty-three. I think he was finished growing but he had that super-lanky look that goes with youth.

  “Hello,” Rudy said. “I think I’m going to have the ribs with salad, bread, and steamed vegetables. And iced tea.”

  “And I’ll have the Alaskan snow crab with a baked potato and salad. Bring me a Coke,” I said.

  Ye Olde Train Depot was exactly that. It used to be the train station back when. After World War II everybody had cars and the train no longer stopped here. Trains still run on the tracks, but they are cargo trains, not passenger trains.

  The restaurant had a distinct pre-Depression feel and decoration to it. Elevator music was piped in and people felt more inclined to be extra quiet in this restaurant than in a public library. It wasn’t swanky by any means. But it was swanky for New Kassel.

  Suddenly the expression on Eleanore Murdoch’s face changed. I looked toward the restaurant door.

  “You know, honey,” Rudy started, “I’ve been thinking.”

  “That’s good,” I said without realizing it. I could see a figure standing in the doorway, but could only get a glimpse of one arm. I was straining to see without outwardly straining, a trick that I’m not sure is possible.

  “I think we should take a vacation,” Rudy went on. “A long one. Like three or four weeks and let your mom and Colin have the house to themselves.”

  “Hmm? She can go to his house if she wants.”

  “But she won’t.”

  I looked to Eleanore to see what she was doing. The same thing I was. Straining to see and yet still carry on a conversation with Oscar. Suddenly the body came the rest of the way into the dining room and walked over to the table that Mr. Lockheart and Mr. Wheaton were seated at.

  It was Yvonne Mezalaine.

  I knocked over my water glass and caught it on the rebound, spilling maybe a teaspoon of water.

  “You’re not listening to a word that I’m saying,” Rudy said.

  “I know. I … mean I know it seems that way, but I am.”

  “You haven’t made eye contact with me for the last two minutes.”

  “I know what your eyes look like, dear,” I said.

  Rudy looked around the room and found what it was that I was watching. Yvonne gave Andrew a case of some sort. It was smaller than a briefcase, yet larger than the average purse. Eleanor’s eyes got big. So did mine. Then Yvonne left the restaurant as quickly as she came in. “Oh, boy,” I said.

  “Torie. Torie, you look at me right now.”

  I complied.

  “Now, don’t take your eyes off of me. No, no. Don’t look away. I know it’s hard, Torie. We are having a romantic evening together and that’s that.”

  The elevator music stopped and a spotlight shone on a table at the west end of the room. Amethyst Bradley, the owner of Corner Antiques, was seated on a stool. Her long auburn hair fell over her shoulders like a red river. A snug black gown clung to her perfectly curved figure. Seated next to her was her brother with his guitar. His hair was nearly as long as hers, pulled back into a ponytail. They were voted the most sensual people in New Kassel in my book.

  “When did the Train Depot start having music?” Rudy asked.

  “They’ve been having performers for over a year now. You don’t get out too much, dear.”

  “Don’t turn around,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ll turn around to watch the music and really be looking at Eleanore and the sideshow. Now w
e are going to be romantic if it kills me and we can’t be romantic if you’re watching Eleanore!”

  “Yes, dear,” I said. My eyes were watching his when Amethyst began to sing “Desperado.” Even her vocal chords were sexy. She sang that song in her breathy alto voice and I thought Rudy was going to bust a blood vessel.

  “Hey,” I said, “we can’t be romantic if you’re drooling all over Captain Kirk.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t sorry me, buster.” I flicked my eyes over to Eleanore. “Holy Christ!”

  “Jeez, Torie. She’s a beautiful woman. I can look. I just can’t touch.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. She’s going to steal the briefcase.”

  “What?” Rudy asked and turned his face in the direction that I was looking.

  There was Eleanore in all her glory. She threw her napkin onto the floor and then proceeded to get down on all fours to retrieve it. Amethyst Bradley was the perfect diversion. Lanny and Andrew were watching every breath she took. That could have been because every time she breathed her chest rose in a dazzling display. She even breathed sexy. That didn’t seem fair. I wondered what she’d look like having a heart attack.

  “Rudy—”

  “Don’t.”

  “Rudy, Eleanore is going to get herself killed.”

  “And your point is?”

  “Rudy, I have to stop her.”

  She snatched the briefcase and was headed to the ladies’ room.

  “I’m going to go and get that briefcase and put it back on the floor next to Andrew’s leg. When I come back into the room, if Amethyst is finished with her son, I’m going to need a diversion.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I’ll need you to divert or whatever it’s called.”

  “And just what am I supposed to do? Get up and sing ‘Yankee Doodle Dandee’?”

  “That’s a great idea,” I said. “You could do a duet with Amethyst.”

  I snuck away and headed for the ladies’ room. I opened the door and found Eleanore jumping up and down on the briefcase.

  “Eleanore!”

  She shrieked. “No, you don’t,” she said. “I got this briefcase all on my own and I’m getting credit for it.”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed, you moron!”

  “Moron? Did you call me a moron?”

  “Yes, I did, and I can’t recall a title ever more deserved!”

  Eleanore looked genuinely hurt.

  “Did you ever stop to think what it is you’re stomping to death? There could be a priceless jewel or a bomb or something in there.”

  It was clear she hadn’t thought of that. Slowly she stepped off of the briefcase and picked it up, snuggling it to her breast.

  “Now, listen,” I said. “Give me that briefcase and I’ll take it out there and return it. I will get you out of this mess, but you have to promise me that you will stop this nonsense right now.”

  “No.”

  “Fine. What do you think they’re going to do when they realize it’s missing? You are dead meat, woman. Now give me the damn briefcase!”

  “You don’t have to be so mean, Torie. Really, you have the most horrendous manners.”

  “Well, at least I don’t crawl on all fours in a public restaurant and steal people’s briefcases.”

  “I want to see what’s inside it,” she proclaimed. “Then you can take it back.”

  I nodded in agreement and she handed me the case. I set it up on the vanity. “Do you have a bobby pin?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “I have a safety pin, though.” She unhooked it from the inside of her blouse, where it kept the buttons from gapping open.

  “I have no idea if this will work or not.” I slipped the pointy end into the lock of the case and felt for the lever.

  After a good five minutes alternating between cussing at her and stomping my feet, I finally hit it right and it came undone. I know what you’re thinking. But God help me, I wanted to see what was in the case as much as she did.

  “Where did you learn that?” she asked.

  “When I worked at the bank. I kept losing or forgetting my key to my cash box. Finally, my boss said that I was on my own. She wasn’t going to let me use the spare key anymore. Voilà. Improvise,” I said.

  We both looked at each other and held our breath as I lifted the lid. I was going to have a fit if it contained vitamins or something equally innocent. Inside were papers. Flyers and promotional material for some club or society called the Merovee Knights. Meetings were scheduled all across the country, with one in St. Louis at the convention center last week.

  “This is what they are all in town for,” I said aloud. “And what do you want to bet Marie was a member or something along that line.”

  “What does it mean?” Eleanore said.

  “Hmm?” I needed to watch what I said when I talked to myself. I never knew who would be listening in. “I don’t have any idea.”

  I shut the case. Nobody could tell that the lock had been tampered with. But there were large footprints all over it. I dampened a paper towel and wiped off the foot marks.

  “Really, Eleanore. An elephant couldn’t have done more damage.”

  “How are you going to get it back to the table?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about it. You just go back to your table and finish your dinner. And I mean it. Keep your nose out of this!”

  Her nose went promptly in the air. I’m sure she’d never been more insulted. I didn’t care.

  I walked out into the dining room and stopped. I waited until Rudy saw me and I nodded to him. Suddenly he jumped up with his hands at his throat coughing and sputtering. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn he was choking. He was even turning purple.

  Everybody in the room stood, some moved in closer, and a brave few actually went to him. I walked quickly to Mr. Lockheart’s table and set the case down. Being short has its advantages. Nobody detected me.

  At that moment Rudy flung himself backward. I think he intended to land on the floor but misjudged and hit a table, knocking it and the contents onto the floor and all over him.

  “Oh, my God!” I yelled. I ran to him like the distraught wife that I would be if it were real. “Oh, God!”

  Brett Stuckmeyer, the owner of the place, and our waiter were pounding the living daylights out of Rudy. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  I rushed to his side. “Rudy, are you all right?”

  “Yes,” he said, glaring at me. “When the soufflé hit my head and the table hit my back, it must have jarred loose whatever was in there.” He was not happy. But a man with soufflé on his face had every right not to be happy.

  I looked around the room. Everybody stared at us. I hadn’t really expected anything else.

  “Let me buy you dinner,” I heard Brett say to Rudy.

  “No, no. I think we’re finished with dinner,” he said to him.

  I looked to Eleanore who gave me the thumbs-up sign. Mr. Lockheart and Mr. Wheaton glared at me when I got around to making eye contact with them. Then I realized why they didn’t look very pleasant. I had returned the case to the wrong chair. It was suppose to be next to Andrew’s chair and I set it next to Lanny’s. Oops.

  “I think they know,” I said to Rudy.

  “Probably,” he said. He couldn’t look more angry if he tried.

  “Romantic evening,” he quipped. “Huh.”

  “Well, adventure is better than romance,” I said. I tried desperately to justify the soufflé on his face. “Look at it this way. Now Captain Kirk has some soufflé and some wine to go along with your drool.”

  He growled.

  Twenty-one

  “I didn’t tell you to have a seizure, for crying out loud!” I yelled.

  “Oh, no, you just wanted me to sing ‘Yankee Doodle Dandee’!”

  “I never said that.”

  My mother was at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and a stomach pill. “So I
take it you guys didn’t go to a movie?”

  I glared at her.

  “Oh, no,” Rudy said. “We were the movie! It was like … like … I don’t know! There are no words for it, but it was the worst night of my life!”

  “It was not,” I said. “You told me yourself that the worst night of your life was when you went to your cousin’s wedding reception and got caught making out with his brother’s girlfriend.”

  My mom choked a little on that one but tried to remain stoic.

  “This surpassed that,” he said.

  “Aw, Rudy, you know this was fun. You’ll tell our grandchildren about it.”

  “I won’t have to, because the whole town will tell them first. It will be etched in gold. They will probably teach it in local history class.”

  “You’re overreacting. Again, I might add.” I began filling my mother in on the night’s activities as Rudy paced the kitchen floor with the remnants of soufflé still on his face. He was about to tell his side of the story when my mother jumped in.

  “All right,” Mom said and held her hand up. “That’s enough. No, the evening did not go as planned, but Torie was hardly to blame there, Rudy. She couldn’t help that all those people were there and she couldn’t help that Eleanore decided to steal the briefcase.”

  “Great. You’re ganging up on me,” he accused. “She could have gotten herself killed. Let’s be serious.”

  “It’s hard to be serious when you have soufflé on your face,” Mom said and then tried not to laugh.

  “I know I could have gotten hurt,” I said. “But Eleanore was just way off tonight. I couldn’t let her get killed.”

  “By the way,” Mom said, “I think I figured out the code.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You know, the code.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Evidently, Mary got into the papers on your desk. She drew me this really neat picture of a horse and a princess. It just happened to be on the back of the photocopy of that document with all of the numbers on it.”

  “And?”

  “And, I think I’ve cracked it.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I said.

  Mom pulled the piece of paper out from under a newspaper and showed me. “I assumed that the dashes were intended to differentiate between words. Then I took the two-letter words and figured that they were words like it, my, to, is. Then I tried the old Boy Scout trick of skipping every other letter. Which didn’t work, but I assumed that this was the type of code that we were dealing with.”

 

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