by Rose Pressey
“I could tell you what I had, but it would be better to see it all in person,” Juliana said.
She was right about that. I needed to see the things in person.
Dylan guided me through the door and into the back area of the station. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. The hallway seemed to stretch on for eternity.
He had no idea that Charlotte and the murder victim were with me. What would he say if he knew they were walking right beside him? Once we got to the end of the hall he opened a door and motioned for me to step inside the room. More fluorescent lights blinked above us. The white walls and floors made the room cold and sterile. Boxes lined the shelves.
“How do you keep up with everything?” I asked.
“Every box has a number.” He moved over to a locked area and opened the little door. He pulled out several black storage boxes and set them on the counter. After quickly placing gloves on his hands, he pulled out plastic bags from the box.
I peered down at the items, wishing that I could actually touch them. I should have known how hard it would be to keep my hands to myself and off the clothing. Feeling fabric in my hands and seeing the details up close made my heart go pitty-pat. Vintage was my life. After all, I was the connoisseur of vintage. I had a blog devoted to my passion and I’d gotten quite a large following. So much so, I consulted for movies and television shows.
Inside the box was a hat that looked quite impressive. I needed to find out more about it, but it looked like it was rare. Turquoise blue, it had a beautiful gem brooch on the side that sparkled and dazzled in the light.
“So have you seen all you need to see?” Dylan asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I said.
He put the items back in the boxes and then put the boxes back on the shelf.
“She had some great stuff in there,” I said as he guided me out of the room.
He locked the door behind us. “You really are into your stuff.”
“I suppose you could say I have a passion for fashion.” I chuckled. If he knew what I was really up to . . .
Charlotte groaned at my attempt at humor.
Dylan led me back to the main lobby. “Can I call you later?” He touched my hand.
His sweet tone made a smile spread on my face. “I’d like that.”
“I told you they make a cute couple,” Charlotte said.
Finally, Juliana had to answer. “Yes, they’re sweet together.”
With Charlotte and Juliana beside me, we exited the building into the parking lot. As we walked toward the car, Charlotte took the opportunity to tell Juliana about her main squeeze Sam, a ghost I’d helped out not long ago. Charlotte was totally smitten with him. He still popped in and out from the other dimension. Actually, both ghosts had the ability. I had no idea how that supernatural power worked. Apparently, it was something they couldn’t tell the living.
When we climbed into the car Charlotte was describing his bedroom eyes.
“Where to now?” Juliana leaned forward from the backseat.
Home sounded like a good idea to me . . . maybe make it a movie night. Casablanca was on the classic movie channel.
“We could visit her aunt,” Charlotte said.
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. “I’m way too tired for that, but we can go tomorrow. Do you think your aunt knows what happened to you?” I’d hate to be the first one to tell her.
“I think she probably does,” Juliana said.
I spent the evening watching the movie and writing a couple of blog posts about vintage wedding dresses and staying current with vintage clothing. Dylan called and I refrained from asking him more about the case. I figured he didn’t want to discuss work after a long day. Tomorrow on the other hand . . . would be a perfect time to ask again.
Chapter 7
Cookie’s Savvy Tips for Vintage Shopping
One piece of vintage can be a focal point
of your outfit. Consider a scarf, hat, or skirt.
“Aunt Regina lives on Maple Grove Court. Turn left here,” Juliana instructed the next morning.
I pulled up in front of a yellow Victorian with black shutters and a black door. A white porch lined the front of the house. “It’s a beautiful place,” I said, shoving the car into park.
“She inherited it from her grandmother,” Juliana said.
Nerves had taken over my stomach at the thought of talking to Aunt Regina. How would she react? I walked up the steps and onto the porch. A white cat ran past and meowed. For a moment, I thought it was Wind Song and almost tripped to avoid it. Regaining my balance and my composure, I rang the doorbell.
The woman who answered the door was probably five-foot-two—my height. She had short brown hair and big floppy curls that fell around her face. She wore a navy blue floral dress that looked more like a robe. Opening the door wide, she stared at me with her big brown eyes. “What do you want?”
The visit started off badly. Be polite, I reminded myself.
I moved back a couple steps in case I needed to leave quickly. “I’m here to see Regina.” At her nod, I said, “Your niece Juliana was a friend of mine.”
She continued to glare at me.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
She looked me up and down. “Thank you. But what do you want?”
Before I had a chance to answer, a blur of fur ran behind her. She let out a screech, took off running through the living room, and leapt onto the sofa.
I exchanged a look with the ghosts. “What do you think’s wrong with her?”
“She’s nuttier than a fruitcake.” Charlotte looked at Juliana. “Sorry.”
I was surprised that Charlotte had even apologized.
“She was always a bit eccentric,” Juliana said.
It looked like it was more than a bit, but I wasn’t going to mention that.
The fuzzy thing ran by again. It was a squirrel . . . on the loose in her house and having a blast running in circles. More than likely he was just looking for a way to get out.
“Don’t just stand out there. Help me get rid of this creature,” Regina yelled.
Was she seriously going to attempt to catch it?
I eased into the house, wondering what I was supposed to do. I didn’t want the thing to bite me. “I can’t catch it.”
“I just want it out of here.” Regina picked up the broom and swung it through the air.
The only hope we had was to lure the little creature out the open door. I couldn’t believe I was helping get rid of a squirrel. As I ran around the living room, the squirrel raced in circles. My only hope was that I wasn’t bitten. The squirrel ran up the curtains right behind Regina. She screamed and dashed across the room, hiding behind the recliner. I hoped that the squirrel didn’t jump on her back. She’d probably have a heart attack.
“I would have paid good money to see this, and I’m getting to watch for free.” Charlotte stood in the corner with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Juliana stood nearby.
This was no laughing matter . . . until it was over. Then it might seem pretty funny. Okay, a lot funny, actually.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Do I have to do everything?” Charlotte said in a huff. “I’ll get rid of the squirrel.” She rushed over to the furry guest and waved her arms in front of him.
I could have done that. How did she think that would possibly help?
Regina had no idea a ghost was trying to get rid of the squirrel.
“Shoo, shoo.” Charlotte continued waving her hands frantically.
Regina was still running in circles like she was on a race track and couldn’t get off. Lucky for her, the squirrel was no longer chasing her. Somehow Charlotte had gotten it close enough to the door to usher the squirrel out, and I slammed the door shut.
“How did you do that?” Regina asked breathlessly. She’d finally stopped running.
“Tell her the ghost did it.” Charlotte laughed.
“Tell her to sit down and
relax,” Juliana said.
Thank goodness things had settled down. I hurried over to Regina and steered her to the sofa. “Everything is fine now.”
She plopped down on the sofa and released a deep breath. “That was a close one. Would you be a doll and get me some iced tea? I have a pitcher in the fridge.”
“One iced tea coming up,” I said and then headed for the kitchen.
“She acts as if it’s the first time she’s seen a wild animal,” Charlotte said as she followed along behind me.
Juliana stayed behind with her aunt.
The kitchen was a tiny space—just enough room for a small table and two chairs. Oak cabinets and white appliances were set off to the left. I pulled out a glass from the cabinet and then grabbed the tea from the refrigerator.
“Be nice, Charlotte. You never know when a squirrel could bite.” I poured the tea.
“If you say so.” She leaned against the counter. “Regina seems dramatic.” Charlotte sure was calling the kettle black.
With the glass in hand, I hurried back to the living room so that maybe I could finally get some answers. I handed Regina the iced tea.
She looked at the glass. “You didn’t add much ice.”
“This woman is pushing her luck. I’d give her ice cubes,” Charlotte said.
“She’s just eccentric, that’s all,” Juliana said.
“There’s eccentric and there’s crazy.” Up near her temple, Charlotte made a whirling motion with her index finger.
“Would you like me to add more?” I asked.
Regina waved her hand. “No, I’ll drink it.” She took a sip but didn’t look pleased.
“Do you mind if I have a seat?” I gestured.
She waved toward the chair. “Please.”
“You have a lovely place.” I eased down in the large brown upholstered chair.
She kept her eyes focused on me. As soon as I was settled, she said, “Why are you here again?”
I glanced at Juliana. “Like I said, I’m here about your niece Juliana. I’m Cookie Chanel. I own the vintage shop.”
Regina looked down. “It’s a tragedy.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said again. Somehow it felt wrong for me to be there. Juliana’s family needed time to grieve without me poking around asking questions.
Regina shook her head. “Of course I haven’t seen her since she was a child. She was a precious little one. Always well-behaved and kind.”
Juliana preened a bit. “I was a good kid.”
“Modest, aren’t you?” Charlotte said as she paced around the room.
“I bet you were a brat when you were a kid.” Juliana smirked.
Secretly proud of Juliana for standing up to her, Charlotte grinned.
I wasn’t sure how to ask the next question. I supposed there was no easy way. If I was going to do it, I just needed to spit it out. The faster I asked, the quicker I could get out of there. I rushed my words. “Do know why anyone would want her dead?”
Regina fixed her stare on me instantly.
I debated whether I should run out the door.
“Like I said, I haven’t seen her in a long time. She called recently and told me she would be coming to town. She was going to come and see me.”
Juliana sat beside her aunt on the sofa. “I was going to do that. Too bad she doesn’t know I’m here.”
I wanted to tell Regina that Juliana was sitting beside her, but I didn’t want to scare her. Plus, she’d probably think I was crazy and making it up.
“Don’t tell her I’m here. It would just scare her,” Juliana said as if reading my mind.
“Okay, so she doesn’t know anything. We should get out of here.” Charlotte motioned toward the door.
I supposed she was right.
“Thank you, Regina. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” I pushed to my feet and headed for the door.
“One thing I’d like to ask you,” Regina said as she followed along behind me.
At the door, I turned to face her. “Yes?”
“Juliana mentioned a hat. She was going to give me a vintage hat.” Regina twirled the glass as if reminding me of the scarce ice. “You said you have the vintage shop in town. Well, I just wondered if she told you anything about the hat. I’d like to have it as soon as possible. The hat is turquoise with a big brooch on the side.”
A flash of the contents in the police station box came to mind. I’d seen a hat in the box, but I had no idea if it was the same one. Regina looked a bit odd.
“You know that the hat would be part of evidence now, right? Even if the police released it, I don’t think they would give it to me. Not unless Juliana had instructed for it to be given to a specific person.”
“Cookie, do you know what you’re talking about?” Charlotte asked.
Of course I didn’t know for sure. Charlotte should know that. But it seemed like a logical answer.
“I didn’t have a will,” Juliana said. “I figured I was too young. Not to mention, I don’t have any stuff that’s worth anything.”
Regina seemed adamant that she must have the hat. Of course, I had to know what was so special about that particular piece. Juliana had not indicated why the hat would have any special meaning.
“I’ll make sure to let you know if I find out anything about the hat.” I inched out the door and onto the porch.
“Thank you. You’re a sweet woman.” Regina patted my hand.
“Have a good day.”
“Cookie is a dear. A little stubborn at times, but sweet,” Charlotte said.
Charlotte thought I was the stubborn one? She was the ghost who refused to move on from this dimension.
She walked beside me as we left the house. When I didn’t see Juliana, I looked back.
Still beside her Aunt Regina, Juliana tried touching her aunt’s arm, but her hand went right through. Regina frowned and looked in Juliana’s direction. Apparently, she’d sensed the touch.
She turned her attention to me, and I waved so she wouldn’t think anything strange. Juliana finally caught up with us.
I turned away from Regina and talked with Juliana and Charlotte. “It might not be easy, but I’ll try to find the hat for your aunt.”
Juliana shook her head. “I honestly have no idea what she’s talking about. I never told her I would give her a hat.”
“What do you think about what she said?” Charlotte asked as we walked to the car.
“What do you mean?” Juliana asked. “She didn’t say anything.”
“About wanting the hat. That’s kind of odd, don’t you think?”
“I told you she’s always been eccentric,” Juliana said.
“Yes, well, you know my response to that.” Charlotte whirled her index finger again.
I opened the car door and slipped behind the wheel. “Don’t bicker. It gives me a headache. Plus, we have a murder to solve. There’s no time for arguing.”
“You’re right, Cookie,” Charlotte said from the passenger seat.
“I’m just so glad you’re helping me,” Juliana said, leaning forward from the middle of the backseat. “So what do we do now?”
I started the car and pulled away from the curb. Juliana and Charlotte looked at me expectantly. They always expected me to have the answers.
“I need a little time to think about that.”
Chapter 8
Charlotte’s Tips for a Fashionable Afterlife
There’s no need for dressing rooms
in the afterlife.
All the way to the shop, Charlotte tapped her fingers against the seat in rhythm to Elvis singing “All Shook Up” on the radio. Of course I had the all Elvis all the time station.
I’d been in a hurry to get to Regina’s but had managed to put together what I thought was a great outfit. I’d even decided to wear a hat. It was black with a pink flower on the side. My dress was a 1940s black full skirt with dropped waist and a bodice that closed down the front with rhinestones. Sheer fabr
ic covered the satin bottom half of the dress. Tiny black bows were sewn onto the side of the sleeves. I loved the puffy texture of the dress. My shoes were black platform wedge heels. They had open toes with sling back heels and side buckles.
After parking in front of the shop, I hurried out of the car. I loved the attention my car caught when it was parked along the curb. It drew people’s eyes to the sign above my shop’s door. The shiny red paint was like a giant arrow pointing people into my store. At least I hoped it brought in business.
It felt good to be back at the store. Being surrounded by my vintage finds made me feel safe and peaceful. I unlocked the door and flipped over the sign. As soon as I switched on the lights, Wind Song hopped up to the window ledge where she kept an eye on the Sugar Creek residents. She seemed particularly fond of the fifties pink party dress—designed by Oleg Cassini—in the window. She kept pawing at it.
I had to admit I thought the dress was absolutely divine too. The sleeveless beauty had a full skirt with a pleated waistline. Chiffon draped over the back of the shoulders. It allowed for many different ways for the dress to be worn. I’d displayed it with a petticoat to emphasize the full skirt and paired it with three inch, pink velvet sling back, peep-toe pumps. A tiny bow accented the top of the heels. They were to die for.
“Are you ready for breakfast, Wind Song?” I asked.
She meowed and hurried along beside me. After filling her dishes, I turned on the computer. I planned to research Juliana’s hat right away. I wondered why Aunt Regina was so interested in it. In the police station, I’d gotten a quick glance at the hat and hoped I could find a similar one online. I was almost sure I knew the designer. Research was my favorite kind of detective work. I tapped on the keys.
“What are you doing?” Charlotte asked as she peeked at the screen.
“Searching for the hat.” I scrolled down the page.
Juliana was at the front of the store looking out the window. I had a feeling she was thinking about her killer, trying to figure out who had done her in. That was something we all wanted to know.
I scrolled the pictures of hats until I found one that looked similar and clicked on the link. “Ah-ha.”