by Penny Brooke
I decided to take Sherlock with me and wait in the shop. The energy in there was soothing, and it was unlikely the snake would have breached the locked door when he had so many closer places to nest.
I settled into my chair, pulling a nearby empty box over for Sherlock to nestle in. “Don’t fall asleep on the job now, you hear?” I was tired myself, too tired to begin any business projects. I thought about the ball in the bag and figured it was a good time to take a better look at it. Lifting it out of the safe, I brought it back to my desk and popped open the clasp.
I reached carefully inside and sat back as I lifted it out. It weighed about five pounds and wasn’t as large as I thought it would be. The glass was cloudy, murky even. It came with a filigree base made of metal, so I set these on my desk. I turned the ball slowly, looking for a maker’s mark that would help me research it.
As my hands smoothed over its surface, I was shocked as I noticed the cloudy glass was becoming clearer. I scooted my chair closer, and the moment I removed my hands from the glass surface, the cloudiness returned. Leaning in more closely, I laid my hands back on the surface, and the cloudiness again began to recede. It started to get warm, but not uncomfortably so. The ball had become a globe, and the contents were swirling. Jokingly, I said, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”
The swirling, gaseous contents formed into an image of a woman. She was raven-haired with olive skin and the most fascinating green eyes. Her features were perfect, and I had to agree, I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. I pulled my hands back. The image disappeared.
Okay, I was really fascinated. The thing was actually legit. I thought for a few seconds and put my hands on either side of it again. “Where is the missing snake in my house?”
The swirls began spinning lightly, and then slowly, a shape began to appear. I saw the bookcase in the living room, the bottom shelf on the end, to be exact. “Are there any more snakes in my house?” I asked as a matter of interest. The swirling didn’t stop but slowed until the glass was a stable milky solid again. I wasn’t sure if that meant there weren’t any more snakes, or maybe I’d asked too many questions. Either way, I decided for peace of mind to call it a night. Sliding the ball and stand back into the bag, I locked it in the safe, picked up Sherlock, and headed into the house. “Lot of help you were,” I mumbled at him.
I had to give the carnies credit. They were definitely searching for something, and I hoped it was the snake. Heading to the living room, I saw the snake charmer—Bill, of all names—and motioned him to follow me. “Did you look in the bookcase? Seems like a great place to hide with all those shadows and hard surfaces to crawl on.”
His eyes lit up, and he began pulling volumes out carefully.
“Why don’t you start at the far end, on the bottom row, where it would be most accessible? Then work your way over and up?”
He nodded brightly. “Good idea, thank you.”
I stood back, watching. Bill was reaching in and suddenly pulled his hand out, holding the snake high. “I found him!” he shouted, holding it up and away from his body as he used his free hand to gather the length. I heard sounds of relief from all over the house and wondered how many were looking and how many were, like me, hiding until it was over. Backing up to give Bill plenty of space to pass, I watched as he put the reptile into his case, which looked like a dog carrier to me. He carried him out the front door and down to the lilac bushes at the edge of the yard. He looked up to the sky to judge the weather and then came inside.
Sighing with relief, I joined the others in the living room for a little roundup of the eventful night. I tapped Gretchen’s text string on my cell phone and told her the snake was apprehended. She responded:
Gretchen: Good for you, but I’m snuggled up and happy.
I had to smile. Gretchen was on the prowl for a new husband, and I knew as soon as she found one, she’d be leaving Mortimer House, but I wished her well.
There was suddenly a commotion at the front door.
“Where is she? Where is that charlatan?” I heard a woman’s voice ranting.
I went into the front hall. “May I help you?”
The woman standing there was smallish in size but had long black, obviously dyed hair that reached almost to the floor. It was hard to guess how old she might’ve been, but certainly older than me. Her long, red fingernails were curled into claws, and she was poised as if she wanted to attack me. “You! You’re the one who stole my ball.”
“Elliott!” I called loudly. He came in from the kitchen, an apple in his hand. Did these people ever sleep? I pointed at the woman. “I assume this is Marlena. Tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
I used my louder, firmer voice… the one I reserved for little gifts I’d find from Lizzie Borden in an unexpected place. “Elliott, you remember, and you have the bill of sale. Remember? I’m not a pawn shop. I buy antiquities, and you came to me with the authority to sell that ball. In turn, I paid you $1,500. You signed the receipt. Now do you remember?”
“Huh. It’s sort of vague…”
“Elliott…”
“Okay, okay. Marlena, we used your ball to get the money to spring you from the can. It was all we had to sell.”
“I never gave permission,” she argued in a slightly European-accented voice.
“I have the signed receipt, and he had the $1,500,” I said. “I’m sorry, folks, but I’m going to bed. It’s three in the morning.” I headed for the stairs.
“Stop!” Marlena ordered. “He did not have my permission. I want it back.”
I was two steps up. I turned halfway to look at her. “First of all, this is my home, and unless you want to sleep in the street, I suggest you change your tone. You have no money to pay for boarding—this is pure charity from me. Secondly, Elliott and his friends insisted they had the authority. If they were lying, then you should call the sheriff and report the ball as stolen, in which case Elliott and his friends will go to jail.”
“The ball! It will do you no good. You must have Marlena’s psychic power to see into it,” she added, speaking of herself in the first person.
I bit my tongue. I didn’t want all of my abilities to become public knowledge, but her statement told me that the ball was simply a conduit. You needed psychic abilities to use it. “I’m going to bed,” I reiterated, and that time took Sherlock and Lizzie Borden with me. I opened my bedroom door to see that Henrietta, my cat, was still sound asleep on the foot of my bed, oblivious to the day’s activities.
I wished I were a cat.
5
The Set-Up
Even though I got to bed so late, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about that globe locked away in the office safe. I wondered if Marlena would’ve seen the same result as I had if she’d asked it the same question. There were so many things I wanted to ask. I decided to leave it locked away until Marlena and the carnival people were well out of town. I didn’t want to chance that any of them would try to steal it back. I reasoned that Marlena couldn’t have seen the same clarity as I had, or else she would be a billionaire and not a carnival fortune teller. Perhaps she saw nothing in it at all?
I was up the next morning, helping Sylvia pull breakfast together in Gretchen’s absence. We finished the ham and a platter of eggs, toast from homemade bread with her special strawberry jam thickly smoothed over each slice. It was the first time I’d heard silence in the house since they’d arrived. They were busy filling their mouths.
It continued to rain, so after breakfast, I retreated to my store with a cup of tea and Lizzie Borden. There was a magnetism about the safe, calling to me to come and gaze into the globe, but I restrained myself.
Although the rain was making it hard to plan, the days until the Harvest Festival were still dwindling. I suggested to Elliott that he attend that evening’s committee meeting with Peter and me. I thought it better that we include him in the plans. Cooperation from involvement made things run more smoothly.
Elliott asked if Marlena might come along. He’d mentioned it to her, and she’d asked. Even though I knew she’d like to see me held in place by a thousand knives puncturing my skin, I nodded. I assumed she would be looking for some sort of alternate employment since her fortune-telling days were over. Eventually, she could get a new globe and be right back in the “faking-it” business.
I phoned Peter to tell him we were all coming in my car and would meet him there. I could hear the curiosity in his voice, but I let it go. Let him form his own opinions.
The meeting, originally scheduled for my house until the carnival guests descended, had been moved to the Chamber of Commerce offices. I walked in and recognized familiar faces, including that of Bernette. I nodded to her and caught her open-mouthed gaping as Elliott and Marlena followed me in.
The chamber offices were tiny, and there wasn’t near enough seating. For most, it would be standing room only. “I can sit on someone’s lap,” Elliott offered, and everyone laughed at the joke. Everyone, that was, except Elliott. He walked right up to Bernette and said boldly, “May I?” Before she could answer, he had clambered up onto her ample lap, adjusted his bow tie as though primping for a date, and then settled back. I thought I would choke from trying not to laugh.
Henry Lowden, owner of Lowden’s Jewelry, had arrived early and claimed a chair. There was no chivalry in his body, not even when old Mrs. Bender from the Women’s Society for the Improvement of Tempest sighed heavily and muttered that she wished she had a seat. I was shocked when Marlena came up behind Henry and told him, “Move over a little.” He took one look at her with his watery blue eyes and receding chin and promptly slid onto one cheek. She took up a position on the other half of his chair, facing toward him and leaning forward so that he might take full advantage of his view of her bosom. As for Henry, take advantage, he certainly did.
Peter went through the last-minute street closures and other safety-related details. Bernette tried to protest when it was decided that the street where my businesses were located would be the thoroughfare, but Elliott scooted around on her lap, and her eyes suddenly glazed over as her mouth snapped close. Marlena and her new conquest, Henry, were giggling and whispering so loudly that the meeting had to be interrupted several times, and warning looks were thrown in their direction. Gretchen could take a few lessons from Marlena, I thought to myself.
By the time the meeting was over, Marlena left with Henry, her arm linked in his. She was laughing loudly, shaking her chest in his direction, and he may as well have been on a leash for all the control she had. They disappeared in the direction of his store, and I blessed Henry for his sacrifice. I hope it might result in the crowd quieting down enough that I could get a decent night’s sleep.
Elliott hopped down from Bernette’s lap, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and followed me outdoors. As we were climbing into my car, he said, “You’re welcome.”
Puzzled, I asked, “For…?”
“For running interference between you and old Bernette, of course. I know she’s a sore spot for you and thought I’d distract her.”
“Well, then, I suppose I owe you a thank you, Elliott. You certainly did put her on mute for a change. I never knew you were a ladies’ man.”
“Don’t let appearances fool you. I can turn on the old charm when I need to.” He grinned at me with a wink.
I blushed and focused on the road ahead. “So, did it help you to sit in on the meeting?”
“Sure did,” he answered. “I see that we need to get on the job setting up tomorrow; rain or no rain. You’ll probably be glad of that. We’ll be out of your hair during the day.”
“I have my own preparations to make, so yes, the quiet will be appreciated.”
We settled into our thoughts, and the house was considerably quieter. I realized Elliott had laid down the law and made everyone go to bed early. I slept like a rock—finally.
I found Sylvia on her own the next morning, sitting on a stool in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll before her.
“Where is everyone?” I asked her.
“Oh, they drank coffee, had some rolls, and scooted out not long after sun-up.”
“Thank gawd. A little peace and quiet around here for a change.”
She nodded and went back to her coffee. I took a cup and a roll and headed out to the store. I planned to open it officially just before Christmas—I thought a grand opening party would work well. In the meantime, it was my little corner of the world where I could arrange and rearrange, plan pricing strategies, and scour the newspapers and online for more merchandise. I was trying to keep to a theme of home items, especially for women. I knew they spent most of their discretionary money on such memories, and that made them the perfect customers.
That afternoon I went back up to the house, and between Sylvia and myself—plus Gretchen, when she finally rolled in—we began our Harvest Festival baking. I had ordered a booth to be placed right next to where the carnival was set up downtown. We made all sorts of pumpkin goodies from pies to bars and cookies. I’d scoured antique recipe books for the ingredients to make the best sugar cookies, which we cut into leaves and coated with creamy tinted frosting. There were loaves of apple and butternut squash sweetbreads and jars of apple chutney. I left Sylvia to come up with a few more goodies as I saw to the setting up of the booth. Peter stopped by.
“How’s it going?” he asked. “You still alive with that crew up there at the house?”
“I notice you’ve steered clear,” I teased him.
“Survival instinct,” he quipped.
“Uh-huh. Coward. Actually, aside from the snake, they’ve not been that bad. More entertainment than I’ve seen in a long, long time. How are the plans going?”
He leaned against our booth. “I’ll be glad when it’s over. Especially this jewel thing.”
“Jewel thing?”
“Yeah, Henry Lowden, over at his jewelry store, got the chance to display some huge ruby called The Stolen Heart. He’s getting it on loan from a New York City museum.”
“Wow, really? Is he set up for that?”
“No, and that’s why it’s such a pain. It travels inside its own security van, wired to the hilt. It’s supposed to be impenetrable. I have yet to see anything that’s that secure, except for maybe Fort Knox, but then they don’t keep the gold there anymore.”
“So, do you have to put guards on duty?”
“Supposedly, the driver is the only guard required, but I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Like what?”
“Like we’re being set up or something. I don’t know. Just a bad feeling.”
A stiff breeze was blowing from the water, and it blew my beret to the ground. Peter stooped to pick it up and handed it to me. “You should wear your hair down more often. I always liked it that way.” We had a tender pause in our conversation. Peter and I had dated in high school, but then I’d run off to the big city, and he’d married on the rebound, losing his wife not long after they were married.
“Thank you.” I smiled and winked at him. “Can you refuse to let them bring it?”
“Henry would be all over me, and there’s the election next year. He’d make it his business to see me replaced.”
“Oh, now I can’t believe that. Everyone loves you.”
“The Stolen Heart might have just outranked me. Listen, take it easy, and watch your cash box. Lots of pickpockets show up at these things.”
I nodded and waved good-bye. I watched his leather-clad shoulders disappear into the growing crowd and thought again what a fool I’d been to leave home and him behind.
6
Carnival Consequences
The Harvest Festival officially opened at nine in the morning, but the number of tourists clogging the streets had begun at daylight. It was tough to even get my baked goods down to the booth. Gretchen and I ran a shuttle—one staying with the booth and the other walking between town and Mortimer House pulling a red wagon cover
ed by a folded sheet. I had an urn of fresh coffee going, and Gretchen arrived with a double batch of fresh doughnuts. The scent wafted through the crowd, and there was no competition. We sold out in less than an hour.
Having exhausted our goodies for the day, I decided to stroll around and see what the other vendors had in their booths. There were some amazing crafts made by locals, and I bought an agate bracelet that caught my eye. I went into the carnival area and waved at my guests. Elliott motioned to me and dragged me to the Ferris wheel. “It’s on us,” he said with pride. “You can see everything from up there.” He was right—I did.
Dizzy from the ride, I bought a soft pretzel and found a vacant spot on a bench to eat it. The only vehicle on the street was parked outside the jewelry store. It had to be the security transport for the giant ruby Peter had talked about. When I was done eating, I wandered in that direction and, through inches of bullet-proof glass, saw the gem as it lay nestled in a length of white satin. I had to admit it was beautiful but told myself if I owned it, I’d have to lock it away because I certainly couldn’t wear it.
By mid-afternoon, I was exhausted and headed for home. I would cook dinner so that Sylvia could come to town to check out the sights. She smiled broadly when I walked in. “I hoped you were coming,” she greeted me. “Now, the big soup pot is beef and barley I started on early this morning. There are dinner rolls rising, and if you pop them in the oven about six, they should be fine in time for dinner. There are pies cooling on the counter and some more of my preserves. Did you sell anything?”
“I sold all of it. I’ll get started on some more to take back in the morning with me. I let Gretchen go with her new boyfriend, so I wouldn’t expect her back until tomorrow.”