Costa Rica Beach Cozy Mysteries Box Set: Books 1 to 3

by K C Ames

  “What is it?” Benny asked, trying to steal a peek at her laptop’s screen.

  “Benny, if this is really a first edition F. Scott Fitzgerald, it could be worth over ten thousand dollars.”

  Benny gasped even louder than Dana had.

  “For one book?” he asked incredulously in a high-pitched voice.

  “Yep. For one book,” Dana replied, looking at the plastic storage boxes filled with several individually wrapped books. She wondered what other valuable treasure troves might be hiding inside.

  “If these are all filled with first editions, you’re looking at a fortune,” Benny said.

  Dana had been ready to finish cataloging since before Benny arrived, but their find made her too excited to stop, so Benny and Dana spent a couple hours opening the boxes and carefully removing each item from the storage container.

  They gently placed the books on the floor because the desk wasn’t big enough and they didn’t want to stack the books on top of each other.

  Once everything was laid out on the floor, they counted over one hundred books and fifty comic books. They spent another hour meticulously and carefully removing each item from its plastic wrapping.

  Dana looked up a few more of the titles, surprised by what her quick cursory online research was revealing.

  “Oh, my, according to this website, a first-edition copy in good condition of Casino Royale by Ian Fleming is worth around thirty thousand dollars,” Dana said, holding in her hand a copy in mint condition of that very book.

  “Really? A James Bond book?” Benny sounded incredulous. “I can imagine big prices for some fancy literary works like that one from F. Scott Fitzgerald, but a James Bond book is worth that much money? Wow.”

  A few of the other titles weren’t valued as high but still fetched from $1,000 to $5,000 per title.

  Dana stepped back after researching around twenty of the books for which she estimated a value of around one hundred thousand dollars, and she still had more than eighty titles she hadn’t looked up yet.

  “This could be worth in the low end of around one hundred thousand dollars, maybe even two hundred thousand dollars,” Dana said, picking up a James M. Cain novel and looking at it gently.

  Benny scratched his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He had no idea how expensive first-edition books could be.

  “This is crazy. I’ve heard about baseball cards and comic books being worth a lot of money to collectors, but I had no idea books like these could be worth so much. It’s not like you have the Gutenberg Bible or the Declaration of Independence in there.”

  “I’m not even sure how I can check and verify that these are really first editions,” Dana said. But she was pretty sure that they were looking at a very valuable collection of books.

  “I don’t even know what to do next,” she said, sounding frustrated.

  Benny was clueless too. “I don’t think there are any book experts we can reach out to in Costa Rica,” he said.

  “We’ll have to find someone who is an expert, who can help us.”

  Benny and Dana also agreed to search the house from top to bottom to see if her uncle had left a notebook or a ledger or a spreadsheet or something that could help them figure out what they had in their hands.

  Dana spent the following week scouring every nook and cranny of Casa Verde, moving furniture and rugs, just in case there were more hidden trap doors, but she didn’t find any other hidden treasures even though she kept imaging there were more hidden secrets. She even looked at the garden and the acres of property she now owned and wondered what else her eccentric uncle could have hidden out there.

  She had asked Rodri about the cellar and he confirmed he had built the hidden cellar as per the specifications of her uncle and was sworn to its secrecy. He also confirmed that he didn’t build any other secret rooms in the house.

  Rodri wanted to know what she found down there. “Gold, silver, diamond, cash?” he asked excitedly. He had assumed that’s why Uncle Blake wanted him to build a storage area underground with strict instructions not to tell anyone about it. Rodri figured he was going to stash valuables down there, so he never told anyone, because if word got out, armed thugs would have invaded Casa Verde.

  Rodri was a hardworking, honest man, and he liked Uncle Blake, who treated him well and paid him well, so he made sure not to gossip, since loose lips could pose a great danger to the man.

  When Dana told him there were books down there, he seemed utterly disappointed that they had only found books.

  “I guess it makes sense,” Rodri said after Dana told him about the books.

  “What makes sense?”

  “He was very concerned about dampness and it being too cool in the cellar, so he wanted to make sure I had it well insulated so he could store papers down there. I assumed he meant important documents, not books.”

  Dana smiled. She didn’t bother to explain to him that the value of those books was just as valuable as precious metals, if not more.

  She spent days going through the books, and the more she found out about the value of the first editions she now owned, the more she was in shock.

  Seven

  When she had first moved down to Costa Rica, Dana had heard from the expat community that time seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace in the tropics, especially in comparison to the hectic pace of life in America.

  She had found that there was some truth to such claims, but not in the month that had passed since she and Benny had made the book discovery in her uncle’s secret cellar.

  It had been quite the opposite—it felt like she had blinked and thirty days had gone by.

  And she not only was engrossed in the treasure trove of books she had found, but she had also been busy getting the bookstore ready for prime time.

  She spent mornings researching the books from the cellar. She had no doubt that they were all first editions that would have to be independently verified, but it would be a while until she would go to that next stage. Since finding the treasure trove of books, she focused on cataloging and trying to determine the range of each book’s value under the assumption they were first editions. All the books were in terrific condition, which she knew increased their value.

  Her eyes opened up as to the possible value of the collection when a San Francisco friend with connections to the literary world put her in connection with a friend in the New York City publishing industry, who in turn referred her to an expert in rare books in the city.

  His name was Greyson Bay, and he was the man the big auction houses went to when they needed a book appraised.

  Dana had been in almost constant contact with Greyson as she tried to determine the value of her newfound book collection.

  Greyson owned and operated Sheep Meadow Rare Books on Madison Avenue in New York City.

  He was a third-generation rare-book dealer who bought and sold books from a fourth-floor office in a ten-story building on Madison Avenue that went back one hundred years.

  Dana could tell from their Skype video calls that his office and book room were overstuffed with thousands of books. He also told her he had two off-site storage units with even more collectibles.

  He came off a bit snobby, which didn’t surprise her, since that was usually par for the course when she had dealt with art dealers as well. His website claimed he had books worth six figures and that not that any Joe, Dick, and Mary off the street could waltz into Sheep Meadow Rare Books to peruse his bookshelves—visits were by appointment only and he vetted each inquiry thoroughly. He hated wasting time on book-loving looky-loos who couldn’t afford his prices.

  Most of the business was done online and via a print catalog he mailed out quarterly to his mailing list of bibliophiles.

  When she first called him, he was dismissive and rude. She assumed he figured someone living in some off-the-beaten path beach town in Costa Rica wouldn’t have access to the rare books he sought. But since she was given his number by a well-respected publish
er, she figured he reluctantly took her call just to tell the publisher he did as he was asked.

  She could sense he was eager to blow her off until she began to ask about a first-edition F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night as well as a first-edition Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.

  That seemed to have piqued his interest.

  “You have both those books in your possession?” he asked in an incredulous tone.

  “I’m looking at them right now,” she replied.

  Dana had meticulously catalogued what she called the trap door collection, and she agreed to email the spreadsheet she had put together to Greyson late in the evening, Costa Rica time. He had responded in less than three minutes even though it was well past midnight in New York.

  They video-chatted the next day, and Greyson Bay went from indifferent and aloof when they had first spoken over the phone to downright friendly and charming right after she showed him a couple of her books over video chat.

  He had a round face with small, beady black eyes. He was bald, with just a patch of hair left in front that was so faint that it looked like the three-day stubble he was sporting on his face. The stubble on his face and head were pitch-black, as were his thick eyebrows. His voice was deep and nasally with a thick New York accent that sounded like Barry White if he had been from Brooklyn. He looked clammy and pale, which Dana notched up to him spending a lot of time indoors with his books.

  He came off a bit smarmy, but there wasn’t any doubt that Greyson Bay was an expert in rare books, and he was the type of person she needed to talk to in order to figure out just what she had discovered in that cellar.

  Since the first video chat, they had spent the past week going through Dana’s trap door collection, and his unofficial appraisals of her collection staggered her.

  Dana was on a video call with Greyson that evening, and he seemed excited.

  “I have a buyer for your two Ian Fleming first editions. I really need to get down there or for you to send them to me so I can verify them.”

  Dana had told Greyson from the start that she wasn’t sure what she would do with her collection, but she knew for sure that selling them wasn’t in the picture for now. She was busy with her bookstore’s grand opening, and living in Mariposa Beach made it more challenging. Even though she had told him this repeatedly, he still pushed her to sell her books.

  “Greyson, I’ve told you I’m not looking for buyers. I’m not sure what I’ll do with these books. I’m just trying to find out what I have here, is all. I’m happy to pay you for your consulting time and when and if I’m ready to sell, I’ll have you broker that, but for now I’m not interested in selling.”

  She could see the frustration in his face. “I know, but I just wanted to let you know that I have a collector in London hot to trot. He’s offered to buy them sight unseen, even after I told him I haven’t physically seen the books to verify them. He didn’t care. He’s sure they were first editions from what I told him. Of course, you could hold off for an auction. You’ll get a lot more money for these books at auction.”

  “Greyson, one more time, I’m not ready to sell.”

  “Well then, just make sure you don’t put up any of these rare books in that little bookstore of yours,” Greyson said, sounding arrogant and condescending.

  “I’m not a numbskull, Greyson. Don’t worry, I’ve stored them like you suggested separate from the books that I will be selling. I would appreciate it if you stopped telling buyers about my collection until I’m ready to actually start putting these books up for sale. If I decide to sell them.”

  “All right, all right, Scout’s honor,” Greyson said, giving Dana the three-finger Boy Scout’s salute.

  Dana ended the video call and sighed.

  She appreciated the help Greyson Bay had been giving her in appraising the book collection and that he had even offered to fly down from New York City to Mariposa Beach to inspect the books personally, since that was the only way he could give an accurate appraisal. But Dana felt like that was moving too fast. She had just discovered this valuable collection of first-edition books a few weeks ago, so she wasn’t ready or willing to start selling them with a book broker she had only just met online.

  She offered to pay Greyson for his consulting work, but he had refused. So her conscience was clear. Besides, she was too busy with getting her bookstore ready for prime time.

  In two short weeks, the doors to Mariposa Books would open—a thought that excited and terrified her. She would deal with the trap door books later. And she told Greyson as much, that she wouldn’t be able to talk to him until next month once her bookstore was opened and she had more time to think about her trap door book collection.

  Eight

  It had been a hard slog for the metamorphosis of her retail store in Ark Row to occur.

  Dana had the old, rusty, and bent-up metal shelving that once held VHS tapes removed and sent to the scrap metal heap, where she imagined it would end up on a slow boat to China.

  In the middle of the store was a large bar-like piece of furniture made from cheap plywood that had long ago seen its better days.

  It was to that counter that those customers would bring their videotapes for rental to the employee minding the store.

  Dana had it removed and replaced with a much nicer-looking and sturdy counter where she would now mind the store as customers brought books up to the counter for purchase.

  She liked to close her eyes and visualize it, and it always made her smile.

  The store’s flooring was a mess. She didn’t know if the floor had been covered with carpet at one time or another, but she was left to work with what looked like a badly stained garage slab. To make matters worse, the natural porosity and chalkiness of concrete made it difficult to really clean. It didn’t make sense to install carpet in the subtropical climate weather of the Guanacaste Province, so she went with an epoxy coating, transforming the floor from stained and ugly to a pretty gray color with sprinkled-on flakes that gave it a whimsical, glittery look that was slip-resistant to boot.

  The transformation of the store drew a crowd just about every day, which amused Dana. There wasn’t much excitement going on in Mariposa Beach, so the locals liked to gather around to actually watch paint dry.

  At least one member of the Gossip Brigade seemed to stop by to check on the progress. The brigade was made up of a group of four lifelong friends—although for as much as they argued, it didn’t seem possible—who were septuagenarians and octogenarians, and Dana was certain they were letting everyone in town know about the progress of the bookstore.

  Let them gossip. Dana was thrilled with the progress. The interior and exterior had been painted, and the shop looked like a million bucks in comparison to how it looked before Dana got to work.

  Big Mike, who owned Big Mike’s Surf Shop next door, couldn’t remember the last time the old video store had a fresh paint job.

  “Oh, gnarly, you’re painting the video store,” he had said when he saw Dana, Benny, and Rodri arrive with his two-man painting crew. “Place needed a fresh coat of paint like ten years ago, bro.” Big Mike spoke with the heavy Southern California surfer dude accent that Dana found amusing, since he was originally from Kansas, but he had been a professional surfer who had participated in the invite-only Mavericks big-wave surfing competition in Northern California, so she figured he earned the right to speak like a SoCal surfer versus a Kansas Jayhawk.

  Dana went with a bright white color because she wanted her bookstore to be bright and inviting. The video store had been painted in much darker drab colors.

  She figured they went with the darker look because they were probably showing videos, like most of the old video stores had done in the past. All that was left of those days was a large television mount that had been up on the wall, the TV long gone. Dana had that removed, then had the wall patched up and painted white by Rodri, who had enlisted two nephews to help him with the big paint job. Dana was delighted with th
eir work, and the team of three began to make progress even faster.

  Next up was the shelving. She didn’t want the look of a stuffy, traditional bookstore with shelves overflowing with books. She wanted the look of a newsstand. Perhaps subconsciously it had been a nod to her days as a newspaper reporter, but she just liked the look of newsstand shelves where the magazines were stacked facing out so visitors could see right away what they were looking at. It was a bit trickier to accomplish that look for a bookstore, but she wasn’t building a Barnes and Nobles–like behemoth of a bookstore from yesteryear. Mariposa Books was going to be a small bookstore, so she wanted it to have that quaint, cozy feel to it just like the small beach community of Mariposa Beach itself.

  Dana was delighted with Rodri’s carpentry work, but to her shock, Benny was a skilled woodworker of cabinetry and furniture.

  “Woodworking is a hobby,” he had told Dana with a shrug. “I have a nice wood shop at my house in Escazú.”

  “Color me impressed,” Dana said.

  The end result was light-colored bookshelves made out of birch wood, designed so that books would be shelved with their cover facing out, not the book’s spine.

  There would also be a section for snacks and coffee, with the goodies provided by Mindy’s Cafe across the street.

  Dana was shelving books when there was a knock on the door. Luis Padilla, the real estate agent that had found the retail space, wanted a tour.

  He whistled his approval of what he saw when Dana showed him around.

  “Wow, you’ve really transformed the old video store. This is amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Dana said, smiling. She stood back to take in all the hard work of the past couple months that it took to get to that point.

  After a few minutes, the tour was interrupted by the rattling of the front door that Dana had locked. She was heading towards the door when the person began to knock aggressively.