Marlena slowly meandered down the aisle, her exceedingly high heels announcing each step with a loud click. She perched on the edge of the chair across from Claire. Her sister gave her a brief glance and held up her hand, motioning for Claire to hold on.
Claire raised an eyebrow, and finished her latte and cake. She looked at her watch, then gathered up her napkin and the empty paper sleeve, and stuffed them inside the disposable cup. Marlena glanced in her direction again.
“Alright then, we’ll talk soon.”
Marlena dropped her phone in the purse that hung on her arm, and gave her younger half-sister a good look.
“Well! You must be Claire.”
“I am, whether I must be, or not,” Claire replied. Marlena laughed as though she said something terribly witty.
“How nice to have the chance to meet at last. And how are you enjoying life in this charming little town?”
“Very much,” Claire replied.
This long-awaited meeting, however… not so much.
“I admit, I’m rather partial to Ashland,” Marlena said, giving her surroundings a critical glance. She looked back at Claire, her gaze assessing.
A ringtone sounded from Marlena’s purse. She held up one hand to silence Claire, not that she was attempting communication, and used the other to fish for her phone. Claire felt a flash of irritation.
“Hello, Amanda! So tell me, I’m dying to hear it.”
Claire wondered how much more of this she was going to subject herself to.
“And there was no sign of a breakin?”
That caught Claire’s attention. She strained to hear the person on the other end of the phone.
“How terribly strange. Is she certain it wasn’t the maid?”
Claire continued to listen, as movement outside the window caught her eye. Alec smiled and waved to her, as he stepped from the crosswalk to the sidewalk. She smiled and waved back.
Marlena watched that little encounter with a raised eyebrow.
“Was it expensive?”
The door opened and the bell rang, as Alec walked into the shop. He smiled again, then placed his order.
Claire kept her ears focused on the voice on the other end of the phone.
Alec picked up his coffee, and slowly walked down the aisle toward Claire and her sister, whose rapt attention was on her phone. He raised an eyebrow. Claire put her finger to her lips, and motioned for him to join them. He pulled up a chair, and did. He looked at Marlena, whose forehead was faintly creased with disapproval. He looked at Claire, who held her finger to her lips again.
He was in no hurry, so he sat back and watched while his coffee cooled.
“It was an antique? Or wasn’t it. And you’re saying all of them? My, how peculiar!”
Alec raised an eyebrow at Claire as he caught her gaze. There was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
“Alright, I’ll be sure and keep the alarm on,” Marlena said, and glanced at her watch. “You too. We’ll talk later.”
Marlena ended her call and dropped her phone in her purse, then gave Alec and Claire a measuring look.
“Well. It seems you two already know each other.”
“Yes… we’re neighbors,” Claire replied, wondering at the disapproval in Marlena’s eyes. Or was she imagining it?
“We’re also friends,” Alec added.
Either Marlena’s eyebrow rose slightly, or Claire imagined that, too.
“My. How convenient that is,” Marlena replied, much as she would if washing her hands of something. Either that, or Claire’s imagination was severely overactive today.
Marlena gathered her purse, and stood.
“You’re leaving?” Claire asked. In spite of how rude her sister had been, this surprised her.
“I’m afraid so,” Marlena replied briskly. “I’ve got an appointment to keep. We’ll talk later.”
“Are… we on for Sunday?” Claire asked. Marlena looked as if she had no idea what she was talking about. Then her face cleared.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Something else has come up, so Rick and I will expect to see you the following Sunday.”
Marlena hung her purse over her arm, and exited the shop.
Claire and Alec looked at each other.
“Did you hear all that?” Claire asked.
“I hope the rest of your first meeting went better,” Alec replied.
“It didn’t. But did you hear the woman on the other end of the phone?”
“No… Why would I want to?”
“Apparently, you’re not gifted in the area of nosiness. The woman said some other woman was robbed. But stealthily. If she didn’t notice her collectibles were missing, she never would’ve realized.”
“Are you serious?” he asked in surprise.
“I didn’t catch it all, but yes.”
“How about electronics?”
“She didn’t say,” Claire replied.
“Is there any chance those items came from Juniper Creek Thrift?” Alec wondered.
“Of course there’s a chance! I would’ve asked Marlena for details, but she tore out of here as soon as she was off the phone. But, it really doesn’t matter. It spared me getting a lecture on the evils of eavesdropping on other people’s phone conversations.”
“Yeah… I didn’t want to say anything and influence your opinion, but… Marlena isn’t the easiest person to get close to.”
“She doesn’t seem very happy about us knowing each other. How in the world do you know her, anyway? Did you run over her pet iguana, or what?”
“No,” he laughed a little. “Your brother-in-law is my business associate, remember? I also went to school with her, and she and my sister-in-law know each other. I wouldn’t say I know her, exactly… but I’ve had enough opportunities to observe, to form an opinion.”
“Any idea why she acted so weird about us being friends and neighbors?”
“None. I can’t imagine why she’d care, either way.”
“How close was she to our grandmother?”
“She wasn’t. I doubt she had any idea your grandmother and I were neighbors.”
“Hm. I’ve wondered why my grandmother left me the house… did she leave anything to Marlena?”
“I have no idea.”
“I wonder if she’s mad about that,” Claire considered. “Her mother left our father, so she shouldn’t begrudge me for existing, anyway.”
“If only people always did what they should, instead of what they shouldn’t,” he said philosophically.
“No kidding,” she replied, glancing at her watch. She reached for her purse, and stood. “I’ve got to get back to work, or I’ll have to stay late. Not that it would be a tragedy if I did, but—I should go.”
“I was going to ask if you’d like to have lunch,” Alec said, as he followed her out of the coffee shop. She held in the startled look that almost got away from her.
Was he asking her out, or… was this just a matter of two friends bumping into each other at lunchtime, and one suggesting they eat at the same place, at the same table. Together, but not.
She puzzled over that briefly, then concluded for the sake of self-preservation, she needed to assume that was all it was and quit wondering.
“I can’t,” she said, looking both ways before stepping into the crosswalk.
“Herschel can get by with eating dinner a little later tonight,” he reasoned. “It won’t be a tragedy if you have to work late, you said it yourself. I’ll still drive you home.”
“You’re curiously persistent,” she remarked, giving him a sideways glance. “But it’s not just that. I’m going to admit something to you, Alec.”
“Okay… go on. I’m ready. I think.”
“Until I get paid, I’m pinching pennies pretty tight. Those tiny little screams you’ve been hearing all the way over at your house… that would be them.”
“What a relief to know what it is I’ve been hearing. Now that you mention it, those
screams are more coppery than tinny, after all. But, that should have nothing to do with lunch, since I asked you. It’s on me.”
Claire twisted the strap of her purse as she gave him a sideways glance.
“That’s nice of you, Alec, but I can’t let you do that.”
“Why?” he wondered.
“Well, because that’s not what friends do. And we’re friends. That’s what we are. Aren’t we?”
Alec hesitated.
“Well… yes…”
And, she had her answer.
“I wouldn’t be much of a friend, if I let you pay my way. Besides, I’m sack-lunching it, so… lunch is sitting in the breakroom refrigerator at the museum.”
Alec considered that.
“Is it against museum policy if I join you?”
“Feeling particularly lonely today, are you?” she asked in surprise.
“I’d rather eat with a friend than eat alone, but I also know you’re mulling over the phone call you listened in on. You’ve got a plan of action, I can see it in your eyes.”
“Well… that’s better than a speck, a plank, or an entire forest. Yes, I do have a plan, although it’s not much of one. I was planning to ask Gina if her fiancé, Jake, had any details. Or if he could get some. He has a friend on the police force. And… there’s no museum policy that I’m aware of, that would prohibit you from joining me for lunch, if that’s really what you want to do.”
Alec looked pleased.
“Thank you, I thought you’d never ask. I brought my lunch today, like I usually do. I’ll swing by and get it on the way.”
“You brought your lunch, yet you wanted to go out.”
“That shows you how lonely and desperate for excitement I am,” he smiled.
“You want excitement?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I did… now I’m not so sure,” he replied, lowering one of his.
“I don’t know if Joe is in today, but you should get him to give you the unofficial tour of the museum.”
“Really. What does that consist of?”
“Apparently there is laughter in the sorting room when no one is there.”
“Someone has to be there to hear it,” Alec pointed out.
“I know, right? I didn’t want to hurt his feelings and point that out, though. One of the guys won’t work nights, because he declares he heard someone running in the corridor. Again, no one was there.”
“Sounds like a good way to get out of working nights.”
“You’re such a copycat. That’s what I said. There’s also a chair that requires regular reupholstering… yet no one sits in it. No one normal, anyway. And don’t say it’s a ghost with sandpaper pants, I already called it.”
Alec laughed.
“You beat me to it. Are you sure Joe wasn’t making all this up?”
“Someone else may have, but not Joe. He believes it.”
“Hm. Funny what people will believe. I have a great-uncle who declares he woke up one night, and his dead wife was sitting on the edge of the bed. She said, ‘well I hope you’re happy, now!’ I doubt he was at that exact moment…”
“You’re kidding!” Claire laughed.
“No, he really said that. And… I believe he believes it, too. Maybe he was dreaming, I’m not saying it really happened. But he believes it.”
“How creepy,” Claire shivered. A cloud passed over the sun, and she couldn’t help laughing.
“I choose to believe in coincidences,” Alec smiled.
“You don’t think your great-aunt had something to do with the sudden infusion of atmosphere into this conversation?” she joked.
“I can’t say that I do. Not if I’m honest, anyway.”
“I don’t believe in that stuff either. Although my skin was definitely crawling when you made me think some guy named Herschel was living in my grandmother’s house.”
Alec laughed at that.
“You looked pretty stressed.”
“I was, thank you very much. And speaking of stress, I’m still waiting to be shown what to do with Herschel—the cat’s—litter box.”
“I did forget all about that yesterday, didn’t I. I’ll do that after work.”
“Ask your friend, Chris, who donated to Juniper Creek Thrift in the two weeks prior to the destruction there,” Claire abruptly changed the subject.
“Two weeks? Why two?” Alec wondered.
“It’s easier to investigate two weeks’ worth of deliveries, than three. Or four. Etc. More than likely, whatever Mr. Stealthy is after, it was donated during the previous week. And so we give ourselves a little padding, by investigating the previous two.”
“Alright, I’ll see what Chris can remember. Unless a donation is sizeable, they don’t keep a record of it,” Alec reminded her.
“All the museum keeps is a record of donor names, so that the Lochlans can send thank you notes. I’m going to check with Tammy and see what she can remember about the past two weeks’ worth of deliveries.”
“You think this has something to do with the museum?” Alec wondered.
“I know the museum is Juniper Creek Thrift’s biggest donor. So… it could track back to the museum. It’s worth checking into,” Claire reasoned.
“And what’ll you do when you get these donor lists? Assuming we even can.”
“I’ll call them up, and ask what they donated. I’ll ask if these items were out of their possession before they were relinquished to a bona fide museum or Juniper Creek Thrift employee. Who knows what we’ll find out, but whatever it is, it’ll be more than we know now. It may lead to more questions, and more answers, which will give us our solution.”
“You’re really serious about solving this,” he stated, as if realizing it for the first time.
“You sound surprised,” Claire replied, giving him a puzzled look. “Isn’t that why you’re following me?”
“I’m not following you,” he smiled. “You’re following me to my shop. And here… it is.”
She followed his gaze to the large garage up ahead. Above the rolling doors that lined the front of the building, was a sign which read Collins Classic Automobile Restoration.
“Kind of a mouthful, but people are no longer calling to inquire about furniture and credit restoration, or non-classic car repair and oil changes,” Alec commented.
“Who doesn’t love clarity. This place is yours?” she asked in amazement.
“It is,” he replied proudly.
Vehicles filled the covered, fenced lot beside the building. Claire had no idea what make they were, or model, or anything else. They looked nothing like those of this day and age.
A man walked out of the office, a smile on his face. He shook hands with a guy in a blue jumpsuit, who handed him a set of keys. The man got inside the classic car parked in front of the building, and pulled out onto the street. He and Alec waved to each other as he drove past.
Four of the garage’s six rolling doors were open. Inside, Claire saw a truck and several cars. She heard the clank and whir of tools, and the sound of faint, echoing voices as Alec’s mechanics communicated back and forth.
“Wow. I don’t know what I was expecting… I had no expectations, I guess. But this—wow,” Claire said, giving him a good look.
“I think that’s a compliment, so… thank you,” he smiled.
“I can’t believe you actually have people working for you,” she exclaimed quietly, as he opened the office door and held it for her.
“Yes, I do. Hi, Paul,” Alec greeted the guy behind the counter.
“Hi, Alec. How are you?” the guy replied, glancing up from the work order he held in his hand.
“Great. I’m heading back out in a minute. If I’m needed, you know how to reach me.”
“Alright, will do,” the guy, Paul, said. He looked at Claire curiously, but Alec made no introductions as they passed by.
He led her through a doorway marked employees only. On the other side was the breakroom. Alec briefly
greeted the two mechanics seated at the table having lunch, as he removed his own from the refrigerator.
Claire followed him back through the office, and outside. She glanced over her shoulder as they traveled the sidewalk in the direction of the museum.
“Wow. How in the world did you manage that? Are you way older than you said you are? Or maybe you were born on a leap year.”
“Which makes me… about ninety-six. I can’t remember exactly. Considering my advanced age, I’d say that’s understandable.”
“I’ll make allowances. So how did you manage to end up with your own garage?” she persisted.
“After I graduated from high school, I worked full-time instead of going to college. I knew what I wanted to do, and that wasn’t it. So I saved, and learned everything I could while working for a shop in Ashland. A couple of years ago, with my parents’ approval, I used my college savings and my own savings, as a deposit on the building. If my grandparents didn’t underwrite the business loan I needed to purchase it and get it up and running, I doubt I would’ve qualified. But they did. And I did, and that’s how I ended up with my own garage. It’ll be mine after I pay off the loan, anyway.”
“That’s really something. I have to admit, I’m thoroughly impressed.”
“Thank you, but… why?” he wondered.
“You had a huge dream, and you made it happen. What’s not to be impressed about?”
“I don’t have a degree. That matters to some people.”
“Why? You’re doing what you love, and making a living. Employing other people, too. Nobody’s going to make me feel bad about not going to college, and I sort through trash for a living. It’s not all trash, but sometimes it is.”
Alec laughed, and gave her a look that was both admiring, and quizzical.
“Thanks. Those are good points you make. And seriously? People drop off their actual trash?”
“It happens. I choose to believe it’s by accident, and it probably is.”
“Well… I admire your bravery,” he declared.
“Thank you,” she replied proudly, tilting her chin in the air. He laughed again, and followed her through the museum’s employee parking lot, to the sorting room door. Claire swiped her ID, unlocked it, then they went inside.
“You got a lot done since yesterday,” he commented, as she crossed the room and removed the binder from the sliver of a shelf devoted to exhibit-worthy donations.
Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer Page 9