by Jessica Beck
“It’s a necklace about this big,” he said as he showed me his index finger and thumb spaced about three inches apart. “It had a large ‘C’ engraved on it, and you wouldn’t be likely to mistake it for anything else. I don’t see it in the case, though.”
I had to fight the temptation to be sure that my necklace was safely tucked inside my blouse. I had no idea what this man was talking about, and it was going to take more than a wild accusation for him to get his hands on my prize. “As you can see, it’s no longer here,” I said.
“Of course I can see that,” he said, and though he didn’t call me an idiot outright, it was pretty clearly implied in the emphatic way he’d spoken. “What I want to know is where it is now.”
I held up one finger. “Let me consult our records.” He may have been under the impression that I was looking up the new owner’s contact information, but I didn’t really have to do that. What I wanted to check on was how the necklace had come into the shop in the first place. I opened our ledger of purchases, checked the jewelry section, and soon had the original owner’s vital information at my fingertips. Our filing system wasn’t computerized, cross-referenced, or searchable by tapping a few keys, but I’d found it fast enough under Cora’s system, not that a stranger would have been able to do it. Cora’s system was unique, and virtually undecipherable by the common layman, but I’d had the advantage of working at the shop for quite some time under her tutelage.
I turned the book around and emphasized the entry I’d just found with my finger. “It says here that the necklace in question was purchased for one hundred dollars cash from Eleanor Whitman on September nineteenth of this year.”
“I know who sold it,” he said angrily. “I’m her son, David. My mother had no right to sell it, and Cora Anthony had even less right to purchase it.”
“Are you claiming that the necklace was stolen?” I asked earnestly. Buying stolen goods was a huge no-no in our business, and if we’d purchased something that hadn’t belonged to the seller, the police would confiscate the item without recompense to us. That meant that we not only lost the value of the necklace and the opportunity to resell it, but it also meant that we were out our initial payment. It was something that Cora had taken very seriously, as did I.
“No, of course not. It was a present from my father to my mother. She owned it outright.”
“Then she had every right to sell it,” I said.
“For a hundred measly dollars? Believe me, it was worth substantially more than that amount.”
I turned the book back around and studied the entry again. There was a wavy symbol beside the dollar amount, another part of Cora’s bookkeeping code. “It says here that was all your mother asked for when she came in, and Cora paid her the full amount. I don’t see that you have a right to it now, based on what you just told me. Our policy is, and always has been, no refunds or exchanges. All sales and purchases are final.” I pointed to the sign posted just below the register, and I was glad that Cora had insisted that it always be displayed prominently.
“Yeah, well, your boss took advantage of her,” he said, this time with more vehemence.
“I’m sorry that you’re unhappy with the transaction. If your mother would like to come in and lodge a protest of her own, I’d be happy to explain our policies to her as well.”
“She doesn’t even realize that she was cheated,” he said angrily.
“Then I’m afraid that I can’t help you,” I explained.
He looked around wildly, and then back at me. “This isn’t the end of this.”
I decided to keep my mouth shut as he stormed out of the shop. It was one of the downsides of owning a small business, dealing with customers who were unhappy with their earlier decisions. Cora had told me that she’d adopted the No Refunds, No Returns policy for sales and purchases early on after first opening the shop. It made things that could have been complicated much simpler. The meaning of the sign was clear. Make up your mind before you buy or sell, because there’s no going back. It was a policy I heartily approved of, and I had no plan to ever change.
I was still wondering if he was going to come back and take another run at me when someone else walked in instead.
This day was getting more complicated by the minute, and I was beginning to regret unlocking the doors in the first place when Jim Hicks, the real estate agent who wanted to buy Memories and Dreams, walked into my shop.
Chapter 8
“I hope you didn’t come by to chat about your offer,” I said before the agent could say a single word. “I’ve just gone round and round with a belligerent customer, so I’m not feeling particularly hospitable at the moment, particularly if you’re here to ask me to sell the place.”
Hicks pursed his lips, blew out a little air, and then offered me a smile, which was quite startling. “I understand completely. We all have days like that. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as he turned on his heels and left.
His reaction surprised me so much that I burst out laughing as soon as he was gone, and I was still chuckling a little when Celeste from next door walked in.
“Did I just see Jim Hicks heading in here?” she asked, and then she must have noticed that I was laughing. “What’s so funny? That man is not known for his humorous nature, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s too difficult to explain without going into a whole lot of backstory,” I said, not wanting to get into any long and drawn out conversations about my day. “What can I do for you, Celeste?”
“I was just checking up on you,” she asked as she looked around the shop. “How has your first full day on your own been so far?”
“It was about what I expected,” I said, though that was far from the truth. “Thanks for asking, though.”
“You know, if running this shop gets to be too overwhelming, there are other alternatives,” she said.
“Well, I can’t afford to hire anyone else at the moment on my limited budget,” I said. “Frankly, I’m not sure how Cora could ever afford my paycheck, as lean as it was.”
“I wasn’t volunteering for a job,” she said. “What I’m saying is that I might be able to take this place off your hands, if it would help you out. I’ve been thinking about expanding the café, but with the bank being directly on the other side of me, this is the only way I can increase my square footage. I’m already blocked in by the streets in front and in back.”
“I had no idea you needed more space,” I said.
“I keep thinking that I’m missing an opportunity here,” she said. “Cora and I even discussed it a time or two. As a matter of fact, I was caught off guard when I found out that she ended up leaving this place to you. I thought we had an agreement, at least in principal, that when she left the shop, I’d have first rights to buy the space.”
That was interesting, since Cora had never breathed one word about it to me. “Trust me. Her arrangements caught me by surprise as well,” I said.
“Still, it’s a lot to ask of you to keep the place running on your own,” Celeste said.
“Oh, I’m not alone.”
“Really?” Celeste asked as she looked around. “I had no idea that anyone else was here.”
“I’m not talking about employees,” I said. “I mean my friends.”
Celeste nodded, and then she added a smile. “Friends can be the greatest assets we have. Well, it sounds as though you’re doing just fine on your own, so I won’t bother you about it anymore.” Celeste looked around the shop, and then she asked me, “Have you been able to track down Cora’s notebook yet?”
“You know about that, do you?” I asked.
Celeste waved a hand in the air. “Most folks in town knew about her journal. Cora had some pretty wild ideas about some of the folks around here, but I always figured that it was mostly just idle speculation.”
“I haven’t seen it since I too
k over,” I said honestly, though it was true that I’d been searching for it. Was it possible that Celeste was asking because her name might have been in it?
“It doesn’t matter,” she said as she waved a hand in the air. “I’d just hate to see it fall into the wrong hands. Now remember, if you need anything, I’m right next door. I’ll be disappointed if I discover that you were in need of assistance and didn’t call on me.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.
Celeste nodded. “Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get back to work before Hester burns the place down. We can’t have that, now can we? That would make us both homeless. Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow morning?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I answered honestly.
“Well, you always know where to find me,” she said, and with that, she was gone. Celeste’s offer to buy me out had been odd, but what had really struck me was the way she’d hinted around about Cora’s journal. It just doubled my desire to read the thing carefully and see who exactly was mentioned in it, and what they had been up to that merited their entry.
All in all, though, I’d had just about all of the questions I could take for the day, no matter how good the intentions were of the folks who’d been grilling me. I made an executive decision, flipped over the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and started getting ready to go home. The first thing I did to signify that we were closed for business was to pull the blinds, shutting off most of the outside light that had been coming through the large windows up front.
As I was running the report on the register, I walked through the shop, turning off most of the lights as I went. I was in the back triple-checking the repaired door when Midnight suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Hello, old friend,” I said. I doubted that I’d ever get used to his new status, but I hoped that over time I had the opportunity. Of course, I would have much rather had him with me in whole, but at this point, I would take what I could get.
“Mewr,” he said as he looked at me rather impatiently.
“No, I haven’t had any luck yet with the clues you pointed out to me. It’s not that easy, you know.”
He shook his head, and then turned swiftly to show me his tail, a sure sign of his disapproval.
“Excuse me, but I’ve been kind of busy running the place,” I said.
“Mewerwr,” he replied as he turned back around and stared at me. Boy, had I ever seen that expression before.
“Okay, there’s no need to scold me. I’m doing my best.”
As he vanished, I found myself staring at where he’d just been. Midnight had never been the most patient of cats, a species not usually known for their forbearance. He was right, though. I’d spent so much time and energy making sure that the shop was up and running that I hadn’t spent much time trying to uncover the identity of the killer. Reaching into my pocket, I again pulled out the poem that Cora had left behind. As I reread the words, I had to wonder just when she’d written them. Did the poem have something to do with the killings? Had Midnight pointed the box out to me to get me to see the threat someone had made against Cora, or to solve the puzzle?
The riches of the world are hidden away,
Masked in the Devil’s Light.
A chest of fire burns deep within,
Hiding the heart of Midnight.
I flipped the paper over, and as I held it up to the light to study it closer, I realized that instead of being completely blank, there was a faint imprint hidden there. Something had been written on the sheet before it, and Cora had pressed down hard enough to make an impression. After grabbing a nearby pencil, I turned it on its side and rubbed the lead carefully over the paper. I’d had fun with my friends in grade school passing notes that way, and we’d laughed about our secret code that no one else could read. It appeared to be a note of some sort, but the contents of it weren’t what struck me immediately. Cora had used the sheet to write a note to the man who was supposed to fix our furnace, something I still needed to take care of when I got around to it.
What caught my attention was the date on the note. It matched a date that had been burned into my mind forever, one of major significance to me.
Clearly, Cora had written the poem the day she’d been murdered.
It was indeed a clue to something, but what it might be I didn’t know.
I decided to try to break the poem down and see if I could make any sense of it. Maybe if I tried to solve it as though it was just one of my boss’s old quizzes, I’d have more luck.
The first line obviously referred to the hidden riches of the world. Did that mean that Cora had hidden something of value that I didn’t know about? Or was she talking about something more vague, like friendship? I decided that the only way the clues were going to work would be if I made them as literal as I could, so I decided that this was indeed about monetary wealth of some kind. Okay, line two mentioned the devil’s light. I looked around the backroom of the shop, wondering what that could mean. Nothing came to mind immediately, so I’d clearly have to give it more thought. The third line mentioned a chest of fire, and I honestly had no idea what that might mean. The fourth line was even more confusing. What had she meant by the heart of Midnight? Had she had a prescient moment about the fate of my cat? None of it made sense, at least not at the moment. As for the stand-alone note I’d found in the box warning Cora that this was her last chance, what could that possibly mean? What exactly was it the last chance for Cora to do?
I was more confused than ever.
In frustration, I called out into the empty room, “I could use a little help here, Midnight. Another clue would be of more use to me than your scolding.”
There was no response, or sudden appearance, either.
Why was I not surprised?
As I walked back out front, the lights all dimmed now, I glanced back up at the glowing red exit sign we’d been required to install over the door that led to the storeroom.
That’s when I saw it!
How had I missed that before? The ‘x’ in ‘exit’ was dark, so the sign read simply ‘e it’ when examined closely.
Not only could it be the second line’s reference to the devil’s light, but it also showed up as ‘x marks the spot.’ Unless I missed my guess, here was my next real clue.
Grabbing a ladder from the back, I set it up and looked behind the sign to see if anything was there. Hopefully there would be a note explaining everything.
I should have been so lucky.
Instead of the hoped-for straightforward clue, all I found was a folded playing card, the Ace of Diamonds to be exact, and a dried up piece of greenery that had faded to brown under the heat from the bulb’s light.
What in the world were they supposed to mean?
I examined the dried fern frond first, but I’d never taken any botany classes in college, so if this particular variety had a specific name that might help me solve the puzzle, it was beyond me. I wasn’t sure even an expert could help identify it at this point. The fern crumbled at my touch, and there wasn’t really enough left for anyone to examine after I’d retrieved it from the exit light. Brushing it off my hands into the trash, I turned to the playing card. There was nothing on the surface of it, written or scratched. After grabbing the magnifying glass Cora kept by the register, I studied both sides of the playing card, but if there was a hidden message there, I couldn’t find it.
My former boss had been a little too clever about the last clues she’d ever leave me, and I began to wonder if I’d ever figure out exactly what she’d been trying to tell me.
The register signaled that the report was finished, so I moved the ladder back where it belonged, filled out the deposit slip for the bank, and put the store to bed for the night. Whatever Cora had been trying to tell me, it would have to wait another day. I’d been there all day, and I was ready to get home and get something substantia
l to eat. My appetite was finally back, and I meant to catch up with the meals that I’d skipped in my grief.
I saw Lincoln’s car in the driveway when I got home, and when I walked inside, he was sitting in the living room talking to Marybeth.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” I asked. “If you two want some privacy, I’d be glad to drive around awhile.”
Lincoln looked embarrassed by my offer, but the look of distaste on my roommate’s face was priceless.
“Ew,” she said. “I don’t think so.”
“Hey, I’m sitting right here,” Lincoln said. “You didn’t used to find my company so distasteful, or do I need to remind you of our past?”
“Please, that was ancient history. You’re solidly in the Friend-Zone now, and I can’t imagine you ever escaping.”
Lincoln started to get up, but Marybeth put a hand on his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s going to be someplace where pretty girls don’t get repulsed by the thought of being out on a date with me,” he said.
“Do you honestly think there even is such a place?” Marybeth asked him with a laugh. The words would have stung if she hadn’t been smiling broadly. It was tough to be mad at her when she grinned, as she full well knew.
“Maybe not,” Lincoln said as he settled back down. “To answer your question, Christy, I’m here for you.”
“Do you mean you want to have our date now?” I asked.
Before he could answer, Marybeth nearly levitated off the couch. “Excuse me? When did this happen? When did you two decide to finally go out on a date, and why did no one inform me immediately?”
“See. Not every pretty girl finds me repulsive,” Lincoln said with a grin of his own.
“Oh hush, you’re just fishing for compliments,” Marybeth told him. “You know how handsome you are.”
“Still, a guy likes to hear it every now and then, just the same,” Lincoln said.