Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “Done,” he smiled. “Or it will be, anyway, after work.”

  Gina sat behind the counter at the end of the corridor, chatting with a family as she distributed tickets. If Claire had to guess, she’d say they were from out of town. Children and parents alike, looked around in awe. Admittedly, the parents’ gazes were directed toward the exhibits, and the children’s toward the gift shop, but all looked equally impressed with what they saw.

  The family left the counter to join the group awaiting the tour that was set to begin soon, and Gina glanced in Alec and Claire’s direction. Her eyes lit, and she smiled.

  “Hi, you guys!” she greeted them.

  “Hi, Gina,” Claire replied, and Alec smiled.

  “What are you two up to?” Gina wondered.

  “We’re seeking information,” Claire said. “Have you heard about the stealthy collectibles thief?”

  “Yes,” Gina said, her eyes widening. “Tammy was talking about that earlier. Isn’t it strange?”

  “Very,” Claire agreed. “How about Jake’s friend at the police department? Has he said anything?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, frowning a little as she thought about that. “I can ask…”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind,” Alec said. “His friend may not be able to tell him much, but it’s probably more than we know now.”

  “I wonder why anyone would do that, anyway?” Gina said, her eyebrows knitting as she searched her imagination for the answer.

  “I’m curious to know how many reports there’ve been, and if collectibles are all this guy is after,” Claire replied.

  “So am I,” Alec added.

  “That makes three of us,” Gina said. “I’ll see if Jake can find out.”

  “Thanks, Gina,” Claire smiled. “I don’t know about Alec, but I better get back to work now.”

  “I suppose I should too,” he said.

  “Okay, see you guys later,” Gina replied.

  The doors opened, admitting another family. Gina turned her attention to tickets, and Alec and Claire returned to the sorting room.

  “Claire…” he said, his eyebrows knitting as his gaze locked on the donate shelves. “Since we’re sure the collectible killer didn’t find what he was looking for at Juniper Creek Thrift, and assuming he didn’t find it in any of the houses he’s visited… whatever he’s looking for could be here on these shelves. Or on one of these tables.”

  “You’re right,” she frowned. “There’s also another possibility. It wasn’t at Juniper Creek Thrift before, but it might be now. They picked up earlier today.”

  “Yikes. But—there’s no way they’ve priced everything and got it on the shelves, yet. I’ll go straight there, and help search. I hope you’re okay with Chris knowing why.”

  “Of course, and I’ll deal with these shelves,” Claire swiftly replied, shooing him away. She just as swiftly caught him by the arm as he headed toward the exit, and held up her ID. “Wouldn’t want to set off the alarm.”

  “Life will be simpler if I don’t,” he agreed. “How late are you staying tonight?”

  “Six. If you want to quit early, don’t worry about me. It’s a nice walk from here to the house.”

  “If I quit earlier than that, I’ll help you search these donate shelves. If that’s alright,” he replied.

  “Are you kidding? That would be great,” she said in surprise.

  “Great,” he smiled. “I’ll see you at five, if not before.”

  “Okay,” she replied. She swiped her ID and let him out, then got to work methodically examining the objects on the donate shelves.

  Lift, shake, look, feel. Lift, shake, look, feel. Claire moved as swiftly as she could along the shelves. She considered examining only the collectible, ceramic, and small electronic items… but who was to say the item in hiding wasn’t hiding in something else?

  And so, she lifted, shook, looked at, and felt, regardless of category.

  Claire’s phone emitted a series of chimes, alerting her that she received a text from Daphne. She removed her phone from her pocket, and read.

  How did it go with your sister?

  Claire grimaced, then scrolled through her contacts list as she sorted through her purse for her Bluetooth headphone. She fit it over her ear, turned it on and tapped to call Daphne, then stuck her phone in her pocket and got back to work.

  “Hey, Claire. How’d it go?” her friend answered cheerfully.

  “The words ‘pretty awful’ pretty much sums it up,” she replied ruefully. She tilted the porcelain figurine she held and peered inside the small hole in the base.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry,” Daphne said in dismay.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “What happened?” Daphne asked.

  Claire spied a bundle of florescent pipe cleaners on one of the sorting tables, and seized it.

  “She showed up really late, for one thing. She also showed up on the phone. She got off long enough to say… I don’t remember what she said. It was too brief to make it into short-term memory, much less long. Then she got right back on the phone. She was in no hurry to get off, either. Not until Alec got there, that is.”

  “Alec was there?” Daphne asked in surprise. “I mean, duh, you wouldn’t say he was, if he wasn’t. But… what was Alec doing there?”

  Claire removed one of the fuzz-covered wires, and bent it into a thick hook. She ran it around the inside edge of the figurine.

  “He had a craving for coffee, or so I assume, since that’s what he ordered. He headed our way, probably to say hi, but I was busy listening in on Marlena’s phone conversation. So I waved him over, and shushed him. I got the distinct impression Marlena didn’t approve of that. Him coming over, I mean. I don’t think she knew I was listening in, or that I shushed him. So she got off the phone. She expressed thinly veiled disapproval over our knowing each other, forgot she invited me over for lunch on Sunday, said she was busy, and she’d expect me to be there the Sunday after. And then, she left.”

  “Are you serious?” Daphne exclaimed. “How—bizarre!”

  “And that, too, pretty much sums it up.”

  Satisfied there was nothing lurking inside the figurine, Claire set it aside and moved to the next item.

  “Why would she… I hardly know where to start,” Daphne said, at a complete loss. “Why would she be so rude, obviously. And why would she care that you know Alec?”

  “No idea. He doesn’t either.”

  “And—why were you listening in on her phone conversation?”

  “You, too, are not gifted in the nosiness department. You would’ve been, if you heard what she was talking about. Some woman lost all of her collectibles to a cat burglar. She had no idea she’d been robbed, until she saw they were missing.”

  “What? No way!” Daphne said in surprise.

  “Yes, way. Hold on, it gets better.”

  “I’m holding,” her friend replied.

  “We learned of four such robberies through the museum’s friendly neighborhood grapevine. Alec knows three of the people that were robbed. He’s going to call the two in Ashland, and ask if they made any recent purchases from Juniper Creek Thrift. The third goes to church on Poplar Lane. If she’s there tomorrow, we’ll talk to her then.”

  “So—what do you think’s going on?” Daphne wondered. “First the thrift store, then—could this be related?”

  “That’s our theory. If it is, it means the guy didn’t find what he was looking for at Juniper Creek Thrift. And that, means it was either purchased by someone, or… it was never at the thrift store, in the first place. Since the museum is Juniper Creek Thrift’s biggest donor, Alec is there right now making sure the hidden item wasn’t in the truckload we sent over there this morning. I’m here at the museum, searching the donate shelves to make sure the hidden item isn’t in one of these items. Alec wants to help, so he’ll be here at five. If not before.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah.”

 
; “You guys really did hit it off, then,” Daphne deduced.

  “I guess I don’t strike terror into him after all,” Claire shrugged. She set aside two ceramic candlesticks, and picked up a clock radio.

  “Evidently not, you’ve spent a lot of time together the past two days. It sounds like that’s his choice.”

  Claire removed the battery compartment door. The inside was empty.

  “He’s interested in the mystery. Not that we don’t get along, we do, but… I don’t want to read anything into it.”

  “So… how’s that going?”

  “It’s great. As long as I can keep from analyzing his every move, and reading into every word he says. I never used to do this, but I kind of like him, and that’s the problem. I wish I didn’t. Why couldn’t I have a homely, unattractive neighbor, who’s no fun at all? Or, have the ability to discern whether a guy likes me or not? That would help. Or, live next to another single girl. We’d never be best friends like you and I are, but life would be a lot simpler.”

  “You’re gun shy,” Daphne said sympathetically.

  “I am. That’s good, though. Who wants to get shot twice? Especially by the next-door neighbor. How uncomfortable would that be?”

  “About as uncomfortable as being asked to be best-woman, or whatever, at your guy friend’s wedding,” Daphne said grumpily.

  “Dodged that bullet,” Claire said, wiping away an imaginary bead of sweat from her forehead. She also looked at the screws holding the clock together. They showed no signs of having been tampered with. “He didn’t want me to move, did I tell you that?”

  “No,” Daphne frowned. “What business was it of his?”

  “It wasn’t. That’s why I didn’t consult him over it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. I love where I am now. I love the job, the people I work with, the cat, the house… the mystery is fun, too. If Dean didn’t suddenly get engaged to a girl he just met, I might’ve stayed. That thought makes me sick.”

  “Me too, even though I miss you,” Daphne agreed.

  “I miss you, too. But… you’re about all,” Claire replied. She set the radio aside.

  “I’m glad you’re happy there. What a bummer about your sister, though,” Daphne sympathized.

  “Yes, it is,” Claire sighed. “If she doesn’t seek me out, I think I’ll cut my losses and move on. While staying put, that is.”

  “It might be one way to spare yourself future grief,” Daphne commiserated.

  “You really would think so, if you were there today. I’m not inclined to put any more eggs in that basket, but I am going to be intentional about making more friends.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Daphne approved.

  “Gina, the other girl here at the museum, is nice. I’m sure I’ll make friends at church, too. Although… apparently, Alec and I are the only single people there. The rest are paired up. So that may be difficult. It would be a mistake to depend on Alec too much though, and right now, I know him better than anyone else here. I don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing.”

  “Not if it stays that way…” Daphne considered.

  “I need other friends, too, like I had in Pine Bluff,” Claire agreed. “I also need to clean my closet out. It’s still full of boxes.”

  “Really? What’s in them?” Daphne asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “I have no idea! How exciting is that? And I still haven’t looked inside the garage. I better do that soon, the lawn will probably need mowed sometime. If there isn’t a mower, I need to get one. I wonder how much they cost?”

  “No idea,” Daphne replied.

  “Oh well, I’ll start getting paid soon. I make a little more than I did, and I don’t have rent to pay anymore. I live within walking distance of work, plus my neighbor insists on giving me a ride to and from. I feel disgustingly wealthy. In spite of my momentarily diminished financial resources.”

  “That’s great, Claire. I’m really happy for you,” Daphne smiled. “And I love Herschel! He’s adorable.”

  “Isn’t he?” Claire enthused. “Although I won’t tell him you said that. It might offend him. I’ll tell him you said he’s handsome.”

  “Having had experience with cats myself, I thank you. I’m going to come visit you sometime. I’d rather not offend him before I get there. Or after.”

  “I can hardly wait!” Claire smiled. Her earpiece emitted a tone, so she took out her phone, then looked at the screen. “Alec just texted… he’s about to knock. Wow, he really did get off early.”

  “Alright, call me later!”

  “I will. By, Daph.”

  Claire ended her call, returned her phone to her pocket, grabbed the doorknob, then froze.

  She grasped the ID that hung from the lanyard around her neck and swiped it, then flung open the door.

  “Hi,” Alec smiled. “You’re swift.”

  “In more ways than one,” she replied, and welcomed him in with a wave of her arm. “You are too, if you already finished searching today’s Juniper Creek Thrift donations.”

  “Most of it’s still on the truck. So, no. I did sort through what’s already been unloaded, and Chris is highly motivated to search the rest. If we figure out what it was the second-hand vandal was after, it might shed light on his identity.”

  “Great,” Claire said. She picked up a ceramic owl, and handed him an ancient tape recorder. “Then let’s see how much of this we can get done before quitting time.”

  “You got it, Nancy,” he smiled. He popped open the battery compartment, then checked the screws. “Do you have a screwdriver?”

  “Does it look like it’s been opened before?”

  “It’s hard to tell. As much trouble as we’re going to, it would be a shame to leave this stone unturned.”

  “You’re awesome, Watson. George. Bess. Ned. Alec, I mean.”

  “Thanks,” he laughed a little. “Watch it, or I’ll start calling you Agatha. Or Angela.”

  “As in Lansbury?”

  “No, now that you mention it. That would practically ensure my own demise. No one’s safe around that woman.”

  “Isn’t that the truth!” she shuddered.

  Claire retrieved the small toolkit from beside the exhibit shelf. She handed it to Alec, and they got down to business.

  Chapter 6

  The gentle breeze stirred the sheer draperies as it wafted in through the bedroom’s open windows. It carried with it the scent of cut grass, the thwap of a sprinkler, and the singing of birds.

  The early evening sun shone bright, filling the bedroom with its rays. It warmed the bed where Herschel lounged, and provided ample light for the task at hand.

  Claire lifted yet another box out of her closet and stacked it on the pile beside the bedroom door.

  “Wonder what’s in all these,” she mused. There were no labels. Maybe because her grandmother knew their contents. Claire didn’t, and it was sort of exciting to imagine what she might find.

  “Where am I going to put all this, whatever it is?” Claire wondered next. Her forehead creased slightly as she considered that.

  She glanced out the window at the garage, and wondered whether it would provide her with additional storage space… or if it, too, was stuffed full.

  As she started to turn away from the window, a loud thud jarred the house. She looked down, and saw Alec catch the basketball as it bounced beneath the net.

  She looked back at the closet and the boxes, then down at Alec. He smacked the ball against the backboard hard, with another resounding thud, then caught it. She laughed to herself, and went downstairs to join him.

  She opened the backdoor and stepped outside.

  “Are you trying to wake the dead?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He smiled, and tossed her the ball.

  “No… more like trying to get you to come outside.”

  “You succeeded. So now what?” she asked, sinking the ball.

  “How about a game?” he suggested, as he caught it. She bit
her lip as she thought. His forehead creased faintly. “Why the hesitation?”

  “I can play, I guess, for a little while. I’d like to quit living out of my suitcase though, and that means I’ve got to get all the boxes out of my closet. It’s packed to the gills.”

  “Want any help?” he asked, as he dribbled the ball slowly.

  “Seriously?” she asked, giving him a speculative look.

  “Sure. Why not?” he shrugged.

  “Well… if you mean it, sure. Some of the boxes are kind of heavy. I have no idea what’s in them. I’m guessing bricks. Maybe cinderblocks.”

  “Let me at ’em,” he said, tossing the ball into the plastic bin, and cracking his knuckles.

  Claire started to laugh, then remembered the wedding ring quilt on her bed.

  Alec gave her a puzzled look.

  “That’s an expression I’ve never seen before.”

  “And never will again,” she declared briskly, as she turned and opened the door. “You can come in, but you have to wait downstairs until I tell you.”

  “Okay… you’ve got to hide the body first, or what?” he joked, as he followed her inside, and watched her fly up the stairs.

  “Yes,” her voice floated back down to him.

  His laughter sounded a little uncertain. He was probably thinking, what do I really know about this girl, anyway?

  She’d probably laugh about that later, but right now, she was on a mission! She tore into her room and snatched the quilt off the bed, flinging a sleeping Herschel into the air in the process. He woke with a start, spit, hissed, and landed unceremoniously on the mattress. Claire flipped the quilt, then slapped it back on the bed, foiling his attempt to look around fiercely to determine who, or what, was to blame.

  Herschel considered that, one side of his mouth twitching, as his eyes narrowed.

  He considered having been covered up, that is. He was still extremely unclear over… everything else.

  Herschel yawned and decided to leave further consideration for later. He curled up underneath the quilt and promptly fell back asleep.

  Claire appeared at the top of the stairs.

  Alec raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

  “May I ascend, or… if I do, will I end up next?”