by Lynn Cahoon
“What gave me away?” She held out her arms, showing off the clothes. “Actually, I’m off until after New Year’s. Please make me a double-shot mocha, and I’m going to find a ton of books to take with me on our trip. Robert keeps telling me I can bring my e-reader and save space in my suitcase, but I like the feel of a book. Especially when I’m relaxing.”
“Who am I to argue?” I held up a ceramic cup. “You planning on staying a while, or do you want the drink to go?”
“Let’s make it to go. I’ve got a bunch of errands to run before I go home and pack. I’m sorry I’m not going to be here for the party Saturday.” Candice set her purse on the counter and pulled out her wallet.
“I’ll ring everything up together. I trust you.” I started making her drink and then stopped, wide-eyed, as she dropped a hundred-dollar bill in the donation jar we had set up for the animal shelter.
“Oh, I’m not paying you yet.” She grinned as I handed her the drink. “I just want to do my part for those poor animals. If I didn’t work all the time, we’d consider adopting. But I’d hate to have the dog alone so much.”
I waited for her to move toward the racks, then slipped out the bill and put it into the envelope we had in the cash register. Aunt Jackie had made a rule to not leave more than twenty dollars out in cash either in our tip jar or the donation jar. She said it kept people from getting ideas. We’d been lucky so far. Well, South Cove had been lucky. I don’t think we’ve had a robbery for all the time I’d been here. But like my aunt always said, “That’s no reason to act stupid.”
When Candice came back to the counter, she had ten books, and she handed me a list of ten more. “Could you be a dear and order these for me?”
“Sure. I might have these in next week, but with the holiday, it could delay shipping a few days.” I wrote her name on the sheet and tucked it into the book I’d been reading when she came in. “I’ll get them ordered this morning.”
“I appreciate it.” She handed me her credit card and a diamond sparkled on her left hand.
I leaned forward to take in the new ring. It had to be over a carat. “Wow, so is this a celebration trip?”
“Totally. Robert proposed last night. I guess he was planning on doing it once we got to Europe, but he couldn’t wait. He was so cute.”
“Congratulations.” I ran her card and held out the receipt for her to sign. “The ring is lovely.”
“It is, isn’t it.” She signed the slip, then held the card for a minute while she considered the ring. “I’d almost given up on him asking. We’ve been together for years, but he wanted to focus on his career before he committed to me. It’s silly what men think is important. I would have married him if he sold hot dogs at the beach. I’m crazy in love with the guy.”
As she walked out, I thought about couples and love and what makes people hold off being happy. Of course, just because someone gets married doesn’t ensure they’ll be happy. I have empirical proof on that theory since my own marriage didn’t work. There were all kinds of reasons we broke up, but I think the main one was we just didn’t love each other enough.
I opened my laptop and ordered the books, smiling when I saw that The Complete Wedding Planner was one of the books on her list. Candice was going into the next part of this adventure prepared.
By the time Sasha came in to start her shift, I’d been able to curl up and finish one of the young-adult advance reader copies she’d asked me to read. Sasha ran our teen groups as well as a preschool book club every Thursday. The good news is the kids were buying more books and the clubs kept the shop from being empty when the tourist trade was slow. My aunt wanted me to start an early bird book club for women of a certain age. I told her she’d be more effective as the facilitator. So far, that’s as far as the idea had gotten.
It’s not that I minded running the group, I just didn’t want it to take over my reading time.
“It’s been pretty slow.” I grabbed my jacket. I almost always walked back and forth from the shop to my house. Unless there was a hurricane. And if that happens, I’m not opening the store anyway. So walking works for me. “Call me if you need to. I’m stopping at Diamond Lille’s for lunch before I go home.”
“Is Greg meeting you?” Sasha started stocking the front coffee bar. Something I could have done if I’d finished the book a few minutes early. I shook off the tiny shred of guilt.
“No. He’s got end-of-year inventory to plow through the next two weeks. Esmeralda took this week off for vacation so they’re taking turns manning the phones. Even the mayor has had to take a turn.”
“I bet that just burned his biscuits.” Sasha waved me out of the shop. “Go on. You’re off the clock. I’m sure you have a ton of things to get done before Christmas. I brought in my Christmas cards to address, just in case it’s slow.”
“I’m sure you’ll have lots of time to get those done.”
Sasha grinned like a kid. “Then you don’t mind?”
“I’ve told you, if we’re not busy, you’re in charge of your time. As long as the work gets done and the customers are happy, we’re golden.” I said my goodbyes and headed out of the shop. Josh Thomas was out sweeping the sidewalk. “Morning, Josh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His response was quick and hard, like a snakebite.
I paused, even though the last thing I wanted was to pick a fight with my neighbor and the only antique dealer in town. Why was he so touchy? The world may never know. “It’s a term of greeting. Used between people who know each other or with total strangers who want to be friendly. Do you need me to define the word friendly as well?”
“You don’t have to be snarky. You don’t talk to me much nowadays. Especially since your aunt and I broke up.” His eyes misted with tears for a hot second. Then they were gone, as if the emotion had never been there.
“You’re right. But honestly, Josh, I was just saying good morning.” I looked at the bench that the city had put outside his shop. It had been bare wood, but Kyle, Josh’s assistant, had painted the bench a shiny black with green vines and flowers sprinkled over it. The piece was amazing. “Kyle does really good work. You should have him do some things like this for the store.”
“I hardly think that craft items would have a place in my antique store.” He studied the bench. “Although it is beautifully painted.”
“You could sell them as decorative pieces to go along with the antiques. Have Kyle make up some samples for you to look at.” I knew Kyle was dying to talk to Josh about this because we’d chatted one day when he was painting the bench. “I’m buying some wooden chairs and a table for the kids’ section of the bookstore and he’s going to do something around a fairy-tale theme.”
“I’ll have to talk with him.” Josh stared into the window of his shop, probably visualizing how a few decorative pieces would change the look. “People do like that kind of thing.”
“They do.” I glanced at my watch like I had a real appointment rather than just being starved for lunch. “Oops, I’ve got to run. Hope to see you at the Christmas party on Saturday.”
“I’ve got my own shop to run, Miss Gardner.” He nodded and turned back to his sweeping.
My phone rang as I was walking into Lille’s. “Hey, Greg, what’s going on?”
“I was hoping to catch you at the shop. Where are you? At home?”
I stepped back outside and sat on one of the benches. “Actually, no. I stopped at Lille’s for lunch. Want to join me?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up.
I tucked my phone back in my purse and decided to wait outside for him. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and there was no wind. If I didn’t know Christmas was coming up next week, I would have said it was fall or spring. That’s the thing about California, the weather was typically decent. At least I didn’t have to worry about scraping my windows
or shoveling snow.
“But snow is the best part of Christmas.” The voice came from my left, and I turned toward a man dressed in an old-fashioned suit with a red shirt.
It was the guy from the shelter. Had I said that last part aloud? I guess so. “I love the California Christmas. Snow is overrated. Do you live around here?”
“I have a place north of here, but I’m down on a work trip.” He nodded to the diner. “Is the food good here?”
“It’s the best. Tiny, the cook, he’s got a magical way with ingredients.” Lille should pay me for the recommendation.
“Magical, you say. Well, I guess I need to check this out.” He nodded toward me. “Have a nice day, Jill.”
Now, I know I didn’t tell him my name. I reached up to see if I had worn the necklace that had my name on it, but no, it wasn’t that. I stood and was about to follow him into the restaurant when I heard my name being called.
Greg hurried over to me and gave me a kiss. “You didn’t have to wait outside.”
“It was a pretty day. Then this guy comes up and he calls me by my name.” I tried to peer into the dining room. “He was at the shelter Saturday.”
“Ellen probably told him all our names.” He took my arm in his. “But if you want me to beat him up, I’ll be the macho boyfriend.”
“Yeah, that would go over well. A cop beating up an old man.” I leaned my head into his arm. “I’m just glad you’re here. I’m probably making too much out of this. Ellen probably did tell him my name.”
As we walked into the dining room, I glanced around the nearly empty room. The man wasn’t here. Maybe he’d gone to the restroom. I paused by the hostess station where Lille scowled at me. “Where’s the old man who just came in here?”
“Who are you talking about? Harrold? It’s not very nice to point out someone’s age.” Lille glared at me.
“No, not Harrold. This guy was in a suit, with a red shirt?”
“Look, no one has come in for the last ten minutes. Are you here to eat or argue with me?” She held up two menus like a shield of a knight who was going into battle.
Greg stepped between the two of us. “Two for lunch, please.”
He took my arm, and when I started to say something, squeezed it. After we were seated and Lille was back at the hostess station, I glared at him. “What was that?”
“As you and I both know, our diner owner has a habit of kicking out people who make trouble. You, my dear, were making trouble. I could see it on Lille’s face. She thought you were messing with her.” He studied the menu.
“Greg, I’m telling you that guy came into the restaurant right before you got here.” I studied the occupied tables around us. “And now he’s gone. Poof, he’s vanished.”
“People don’t vanish, Jill. What book are you reading now?” He set the menu down. “Maybe you need to cut back on the horror genre.”
Carrie came up to the table with two iced teas. “Uh, oh. What are you two fighting about? No one’s died recently, so it can’t be Jill’s investigation habit.”
“We’re not fighting.” Greg’s calm tone seemed to ease Carrie’s concerns. “I’m going with the hot turkey sandwich. What about you, Jill?”
“Turkey club. But can I get mashed potatoes instead of fries?”
After Carrie left, I scanned the room again.
Greg put his hand over mine. “You’re certain this guy came inside? Maybe he just went into the foyer, then snuck out when you weren’t looking? Who is he?”
“I don’t know. But he’s getting under my skin.” I shook my shoulders. “Anyway, I’m done thinking about him. I’m glad you could do lunch.”
“I wanted to show you something.” Greg opened the backpack I hadn’t noticed him carrying in. Some investigator I was, but I have to admit, I was distracted by the old man.
He set a journal, an old envelope, and a ring box, the type you got when you bought from a real jewelry store, down on the table between us. “This is what was in the safe-deposit box. Baby’s owner’s name is Thomas Raleigh. I’ve already sent that over to the Bakerstown guys to run through their systems. But it looks like he’s been off the grid for a while. The bank manager said the guy came in once a year, paid for his box and spent some time with the contents.”
I held a hand over the envelope. “May I?”
“Of course.” He sipped his iced tea as I picked up the fragile paper. “There was one more thing in the box.”
I was opening the envelope and pulling out a letter. Absently, I asked, “What else was in the box?”
He touched my hand and I looked up at him.
“Fifty-eight thousand dollars.”
CHAPTER 5
Sasha set the letter down and grabbed a tissue. “That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever read.”
She’d come into the shop this morning, even though Toby was working the midday shift, to make sure all the prep work was done for the party. At least that had been her story. And I was glad to pay her the hours, but my gut said she was still hoping that the good-looking barista slash South Cove deputy would look her way again. They’d had one date this summer, before Toby’s relationship with another woman had taken off. I had to give it to her, she’d taken the news well. But I could still see the hope in her eyes when she looked at him.
Men. They make our lives wonderful and miserable at the same time. The letter and journal were a prime example. “It gets worse. The journal talks about a house he’d been planning on buying so they could start a family. He’d get the money to buy, and the price would go up, or it would sell. Finally, he ran into a brick wall as the current owner has lived there for over twenty years.”
“And he wouldn’t ask her to marry him until he had made his way.” Sasha shook her head. “Men are hard to understand. They don’t get that when you go into a relationship, it’s the two of you—it’s not just his job to make it work.”
“It’s an old-fashioned concept, that’s for sure.” I picked up the letter again. Or actually, a copy of the letter. Greg had followed me to the shop yesterday after lunch, watched me copy the letter and the journal, then left to take the items back to the station for safekeeping. It wasn’t often he asked for my opinion on a case, so when he did, I went in full force. Even if it meant doing a little secretarial work. “I’ve worked since I got out of college. In or out of a relationship, I had money coming in. My aunt always worked, even when she was married to Uncle Ted. But my mom, she felt like she had to depend on her man to make the money. Which sometimes didn’t work out so well.”
“I guess I’m just a bit of a control freak. I’ve been almost out-on-the-street poor and I didn’t like it. Giving up that power to anyone, including someone I loved, it would be hard.” Sasha glanced at the door for the third time that I’d noticed. “Anyway, who do you think this Lizzie is?”
“I’m not sure. We’re probably looking for an Elizabeth, but Greg says the guy was at least in his late sixties, so maybe she’s already passed on to greener pastures.” I pulled out a notebook. “Do you want to help me brainstorm this?”
“I’d love to. If there isn’t anything you need me to do for the shop. I am on your dime, so to speak.” Sasha grinned, and I saw the determined woman who had blossomed right under our noses.
“You are working. You’re keeping me in check. Greg might say that’s a full-time job, all on its own.” I nodded to the coffee bar. “If you want to do something while we work on this, would you pour me some more coffee? I’ve got to make cookies tonight and I need the boost.”
“Sure.” Sasha headed to the coffee bar and poured two cups, bringing them back over to the table. Then, instead of sitting down, she went back to the counter and grabbed two chocolate chip cookies. “We need sugar to get the brain working harder.”
“Well played.” I bit into the cookie. I started writing down things on the sheet. �
�So we know his name. He was homeless at the time of death. I wonder where he lived before that?”
“Greg can probably run background now that he knows his name.” Sasha nodded to the sheet. “You should ask him if he’s done that.”
“Good idea, but I think he can only see arrests and things.” I tapped the pen on the paper. “But maybe Ms. Google can help us out.”
Sasha giggled as I opened my laptop and keyed in Thomas’s name and South Cove, California. When a list of sites appeared, I leaned forward, encouraged by the search engine results. Except, they weren’t about our Thomas Raleigh. “That was a bust.”
Sasha scrolled down the list. “Not so fast. There was a Thomas Raleigh interviewed at the Veterans Center in Bakerstown a few years ago.” She clicked and scanned the article. “He was on the streets for at least five years? That’s really sad.”
I leaned over and looked at the picture. All you could see was the guy’s rumpled clothes and his arms as he held a small dog up to the camera. The dog was baring his teeth. Apparently, he didn’t like the reporter or the camera. “That’s Baby. This is definitely our Thomas. When was that article?”
Sasha read off the date and all of the people who were named in the article. I wrote them all down on the paper. My phone rang as I was finishing. “Hello?”
“Where are you? I’ve been playing ball with Emma for ten minutes waiting for you to get home.” Greg’s baritone echoed through the speaker.
I glanced up at the clock. “Still at work. Toby hasn’t shown up yet.”
Sasha shook her head. “I’m here. I’ll cover until Toby gets here and then I’ll take off since the party stuff is in hand.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Greg said.
I picked up the phone and took it off speaker. “Hold on a second, will you?”
Sasha shrugged. “What? I’m here, I’m on the clock. I told you to make use of me.”
“Okay, but I don’t want to hear that Toby talked you into covering his shift so he could have the day off.” I closed the notebook and stuffed it and the laptop into my tote. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow at the cookie exchange?”