“Your mom didn’t keep any?” Alec frowned.
“No… Mom lives in the moment, as if the past never existed at all.”
“I remember you saying that, but… it’s hard to fathom. And again, how are you so normal? I haven’t known you long, but… you seem a lot more stable than that.”
“Thanks,” she sort of laughed. “I owe my sense of stability to Jesus.”
“Is… your mom a Christian?” he wondered.
“Mom goes to church. So I did, too. She… knows what to say. She sounds authentic. You’d think I had no idea what I was talking about, if you met her. Seriously. But she’s empty. I don’t think she knows Jesus at all. I know for sure she doesn’t love Him, because He said in John fourteen, verse twenty-one, that ‘Those who accept my commandments and obey them are the ones who love Me.’ His commandment is to love each other in the same way He loved us. She doesn’t.”
Claire sighed, and flipped to the next page in the album.
“Do you pray for her?” Alec asked hesitantly. Claire’s forehead creased as she contemplated that.
“Not enough. If I really loved her like Jesus loves us, I would. I wouldn’t wash my hands of her in that regard. Wow. Thank you for pointing that out, Alec. I needed that.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you, for not being offended, and taking my question as criticism,” he replied. He sounded impressed.
“Why, were you trying to criticize me?” she wondered.
“No,” he laughed. “I wasn’t. Not at all.”
“Hm. Well… you’re welcome,” she replied. She turned to the next page. “Wait—is this you?”
Claire pointed to the photo of a dark-haired boy. His smile showed that his front teeth were missing.
“That’s me,” Alec acknowledged.
“You were so cute,” she declared.
“Was?” he smiled.
“And here I was beginning to think you weren’t conceited, after all,” she replied, as she shook her head sadly and tried not to laugh. He groaned.
“And with that one word…” he stopped, as his eyes fastened on one of the photos. “No wonder you’re so good! You probably started younger than I did.”
Claire looked at the toddler-size basketball net that stood on its plastic base in the center of the court. Her father knelt beside her, pointing to the net, instructing her. She held the tiny ball in both hands, a fierce look on her face as she eyed the net. Claire laughed, and so did Alec.
“My dad taught me to play. I love that,” she said with satisfaction.
“Considering the look on your face, he didn’t teach you to have mercy on your opponent,” Alec teased.
“We aren’t all gifted in the same way,” she said seriously. “You have your gifts, too.”
“And those are? Or dare I ask? I’m beginning to think it’s not wisdom…”
“No, Alec. Not at all. But you do have the gift of moving boxes brilliantly.”
“Is that a hint?” he smiled.
“No, stay here,” she ordered. “I’d rather have my questions answered.”
“If one of them is why this room is here, I don’t know,” he replied, glancing around the rectangular space. “I have a question, though. Don’t you want to see what’s on the other side of these other doors?”
“Yes, and there’s a door on each side of my closet, too. That makes four, plus the one we came through.”
“I’ll bet the one beside the couch holds your furnace and water heater. Unless you’ve found them somewhere else in the house. The ones next to your closet have to be storage, I can’t imagine what else would fit the space. The doors aren’t leprechaun size, either.”
“Sorry Herschel, but I need to get up,” she said, as she gently maneuvered to get out from under him. Alec stood, giving her more room. She took the two steps to the door on the left side of her closet, and opened it.
“You called it, George. Bess. Or Ned.”
Alec looked over her shoulder.
“If I make another accurate observation, do I get to keep my own name?”
“Of course. That doesn’t mean I won’t call you something else, though,” she pointed out.
“At least you’re honest. May I?” he motioned toward the closet, and Claire stepped out of his way. She watched curiously as he activated the flashlight app on his phone, and stepped inside. “I’ll be back.”
With that unexpected statement, he stepped to the side, and… disappeared.
“Alec? What did you find? Answer, or I’m coming after you,” she said, as she followed him. They met abruptly as he attempted to rejoin her.
“We really must quit meeting this way,” he said, as he rubbed his chest, and she groaned and rubbed her forehead. He turned to shine the beam of light so she could see past him.
“A walk-in closet!” she exclaimed. He found the light switch, and with a soft click, the space was lit. “This is awesome. I’ve got plenty of room, now.”
“Yeah, pretty cool. It gives a purpose to the space between the linen closet, the walls of your bathroom and bedroom, and the back wall of this room.”
“There’s nothing in it,” she commented.
“It’s move-in ready,” he said, and she followed him back into the sitting room.
The door on the right of her bedroom closet held additional storage space. And, several boxes.
They crossed to the other side of the room, and opened the small door opposite the one leading to her closet. Hanging from the bar on the other side, were her grandmother’s clothes.
“I’ll bet she packed my closet full, so she’d be sure no one could come through that way and surprise her,” Claire considered, as she turned to the door beside the sofa. It revealed a water heater and furnace.
“Maybe so,” Alec replied.
“Plus, the house is short on storage space… although she could’ve used the walk-in. But I don’t think she wanted to clutter up this space,” Claire thought out loud, as she closed the fourth door and turned back to the sitting room. “I think she spent a lot of time here… I probably will, too. I love it. But I wonder why it’s here?”
“It does seem kind of strange, doesn’t it. Why the tiny entrances? And why put them inside the bedroom closets?”
“Is there any chance your grandmother would know?” she wondered.
“I’ll ask,” he replied.
“Our grandmothers were friends, so… it seems like she would know. Don’t you think? The first thing I’m going to do after you leave, is call my best friend and tell her all about this.”
“Is that a hint?” he smiled. He didn’t look worried.
“No, just making a point. She has a Tuesday evening class. I can’t talk to her right now, anyway.”
“She’s in Pine Bluff?”
“Yes. Daphne and I became best friends about thirty seconds after we met. With some people, friendship takes effort. But with others… it doesn’t.”
“I know what you mean,” he said. She looked as though she wanted to sit on the couch again, so he picked up Herschel, then joined her. She picked up the album and flipped through it some more.
“Pine Bluff is nice, but I love it here. Daphne’s all I really miss. But she’s engaged, so… have you ever had a best friend that got engaged?”
“Yes. It’s not the same after,” Alec replied.
“No, it isn’t. I’m happy for her, though. He’s nice. How far is Alpine Lake?”
“It’s a couple of hours east. Why?”
“That’s where they’re having their wedding. I’m maid of honor, so… I wouldn’t miss it for anything, but I’m glad it’s not farther away.”
“You’re going by yourself?” he asked. He looked a little concerned.
“Well… yeah. Unless you want to come with me. And wow, I can’t believe I just said that. I didn’t mean—I just meant—Yes. I’m going alone. And I’m done talking.”
Utterly mortified, she covered her face with her hands.
�
��To be honest, Claire, I’m thankful this happened,” Alec said. He sounded serious, and thoughtful. She had no idea how he looked, as she was most certainly not looking at him. She might never look at him again.
“Why?” she finally asked.
“Because this is my chance to prove, once and for all, that I’m not conceited. If I was, who knows what I’d be thinking right now. What was it you thought before? That I thought you were throwing yourself at me? That you were coming onto me? It seems like there were a few other things, too…”
“You are enjoying this way too much,” she retorted. She glanced—or glared—at him, and saw he was teasing. “Fine. You’re not conceited. At all. You have a terrible memory, too. So do I. What are we talking about?”
“I was saying that you’d be safer taking a two-hour trip in my truck, than in your Blue Lightning. I’m not conceited, but I do care about you. When is this wedding?”
“It’s in four weeks.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Well—okay,” she said, completely surprised. She had no idea what else to say.
“That’s a great picture,” Alec commented, pointing to one of Claire, her grandparents, and her parents. “The same photo is in one of the frames on top of the shelf.”
Claire glanced in that direction, deeply thankful for the distraction.
“I wonder how far back the albums go?”
“They’re labeled by date on the spine. They’re also shelved in order. So… a lot of years, would be my guess.”
Claire followed his gaze to the gap left in the row of albums, then looked back at the one on her lap.
“Oh, look. Is that the swing you remember?” she wondered, pointing to one of the photos, where two-year-old Claire was being pushed by six-year-old Alec.
“It is. Your grandparents left up the swing after your visit. Me, and my brother and sister, used it a lot when we came to see our grandparents. I sort of remember this.”
“I wish I could, but I’m so glad I have these pictures. This is probably better than memories, in a way. Especially since I don’t have any.”
“The photos won’t fade like a memory would.”
“As long as they’re on acid-free paper,” Claire said, giving the album a critical look. They were.
“Okay, but what I mean, is that my memories from that time have faded to nothing more than a few brief snapshots. I don’t remember what we did before, or after. Not clearly, and not much at all.”
“Is this your brother and sister?” she wondered, pointing to another picture.
“Yes. They’re both older, if you can’t tell.”
“Either that, or they’re giants.”
“My brother and I are the same height. Now, anyway. My sister isn’t much taller than you,” he replied, and glanced at his watch. He looked surprised, so Claire glanced at it too.
“Gracious, I can’t believe how late it is!” she exclaimed.
“It’s a little too late to call the people who were visited by the stealth-thief,” he commented.
“Ug, what a shame! Although, it’s not like we sat around and did nothing all evening.”
“Are you kidding? We found a secret room! That’s at least as cool as solving the case of the collectible killer. Still, finding a secret room and solving the mystery would be even better. Are you eating-in tomorrow?”
“I’m bringing my lunch to work, if that’s what you mean,” she replied.
“It is. If you don’t mind me joining you, I’ll call then. You can listen in.”
“Sure, that sounds great,” Claire agreed.
“Excellent. I’ll see you then,” Alec smiled.
Chapter 7
Claire stowed her suitcase underneath the shelf of the hidden room’s walk-in closet.
Her clothes hung neatly from the rod, with room to spare. The shelves held her shoes, sweaters, a couple of extra purses… and what looked very much like a fur stole, with yellow eyes.
“What do you think, Herschel?” she asked. He looked back at her and blinked wisely, but said nothing.
Claire sighed happily as she scratched behind his ears, and looked around once more.
A ringtone sounded from her phone, so she glanced at the screen. She smiled, and answered.
“Hi, Daphne. How are things?”
“Great. How about you?” her best friend asked.
“Super! I just finished filling a small portion of my walk-in closet with every item of clothing I own. If I decide to buy out a mall someday, maybe I’ll be able to fill half of it.”
“I know you’re not serious, because your whole house isn’t as big as a mall. But really? The closet is huge?”
“It really is,” Claire replied. She left Herschel lounging on the shelf, selected a clean t-shirt and shorts, and carried them with her to the no-longer-hidden room.
“That’s awesome, and how cool about your new sitting room. It’s absolutely adorable! You should send more pictures,” Daphne declared.
“I will,” Claire smiled. She passed through the closet of her bedroom, and tossed the clothing on her bed. She relaxed in the chair where she could keep an eye on the window.
“The albums and photos are amazing, too,” Daphne said.
“I love that the most. I feel like something’s been returned to me, you know? And Alec has memories of the last visit I made here with my parents. He also has a grandma who remembers a lot more than he does. She’ll probably be able to answer a lot of my questions.”
“That’s so great, Claire. So… how about your mystery? Did Alec talk to the Juniper Creek Thrift guy? And what about the people whose homes were mysteriously robbed of collectibles?”
“Yes, to both,” Claire replied. “Chris doesn’t keep a record of donations. He does have a record of when and where the truck makes pick-ups. In the two weeks before Juniper Creek Thrift was trashed, one was made at the museum, and one from a home. Alec called and talked to the homeowners. They donated a bike, a coffee table, and clothing.”
“That’s not what the guy was after,” Daphne mused.
“No. So the guy wants something that he believes was dropped off at Juniper Creek Thrift and then purchased by someone, otherwise there wouldn’t be eight incidents of missing collectibles from the homes of people here, and in Ashland. There are more than we realized.”
“Then Juniper Creek Thrift does keep a record of who buys from them?” Daphne asked.
“Sort of. Customers are added to Juniper Creek Thrift’s mailing list, with their permission.”
“What if they’re already on the list?”
“The information is handwritten, then added to the database after the fact. Maybe the program they use deletes duplicates. Or maybe some people get fifty fliers at once. I don’t know. We do know the handwritten list is missing, and that all the people we know of who were robbed, also made a purchase at Juniper Creek Thrift in the past two weeks. Alec called and talked to three of them today. Want to guess how many of the three purchased collectibles there?”
“None,” Daphne replied.
“You’re exactly right. They didn’t purchase staplers, pencil holders, radio clocks, or electric pencil sharpeners. They didn’t open up their own electric pencil sharpeners and dump the shavings out, either. That makes us suspect Juniper Creek Thrift never had what the guy is searching for, and he does not know what that item is hidden inside.”
“So where is it, then?”
“If the guy’s right and it was donated, and if it was donated somewhere other than Juniper Creek Thrift, then it could be in one of several second-hand stores in Ashland. Or, it could be at the museum. Alec and I looked over all the antiques and about half of the donate items that are ready to be picked up. I’ll finish tomorrow, then check as I sort. The room is full of tables, and the tables are full of items waiting to be categorized. If this thing is there, it could take a couple of months to find it.”
“Aren’t you afraid this guy will break into the museum, in
the meantime?” Daphne asked with concern.
“He may try, if he discovers we welcome donations. That isn’t advertised, it’s all word-of-mouth. And unlike Juniper Creek Thrift, the museum is armed with a state-of-the-art security system. If he got in, all he’d have time for would be to grab whatever he could before the police got there. They wouldn’t be far behind.”
“This guy’s got to be serious though, to be sneaking into peoples’ homes without them realizing. Whoever he is, he isn’t an amateur, Claire.”
“You’re right, that couldn’t be easy.”
“He may not be working alone either,” Daphne persisted. “Be careful going to and from work. You could be the weak link he targets.”
Claire felt an uncomfortable chill at the thought.
“Well… Alec’s been dropping me off and picking me up. He said it makes sense, it’s on his way.”
“Good,” Daphne said firmly. “How is Alec, by the way?”
“He’s good. He’ll be here in a while. He offered me a ride to church tonight. Incidentally, he figured out what’s wrong with the Blue Lightning.”
“What is it?”
“It’s leaking transmission fluid. He said he’ll order the replacement part for me, which is cheaper than if I went to someplace like AutoZone. He insists he’s going to install it, too, which is great. He left me a couple of bottles of transmission fluid in the meantime, in the event I absolutely must drive somewhere.”
“That’s great,” Daphne replied. She was impressed. “It sounds like you guys have become awfully good friends. He’s even coming with you to the wedding…”
“Yeah… I know,” Claire said thoughtfully. “I was mortified when I asked him. I’m glad he took it the way he did. I was the only one who felt awkward, and he was really nice about it. I didn’t feel that way for long.”
“Good… so you guys are just friends?” Daphne asked.
“That’s all,” Claire said firmly. “I really like him, and that makes it hard. But I’m dealing, and I refuse to read into anything. I’m taking his words and deeds at face-value. It’s much safer that way.”
Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer Page 13