One Woman's Junk

by J. B. Lynn

  There was a chance, of course, that he was nouveau riche, probably having made his money in the real estate market. People who really were rich didn’t need to flaunt it quite so obviously.

  “I’m looking for the Concordia sisters,” he boomed.

  “You’ve found them,” Winnie said. Her voice was neutral, her stance was not threatening. She looked like a competent businesswoman.

  Amanda, on the other hand, who still had color in her cheeks from being so angry at Harmony, was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at the man like he was something to be scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

  The man’s gaze skittered around the room, deciding which one of the Concordia sisters would be his target. He settled on Beatrice. She wasn’t sure if that was because she looked weak sitting in a wheelchair, because she was youngest, or because she was still reeling from the peaceful vision of Letty on the beach at Siesta Key.

  “Peter Perkins,” he said, walking toward her, holding out a business card.

  Beatrice made no move to take it. She’d already taken Ash’s business card. She wasn’t in the habit of collecting tiny rectangles of card stock.

  As if sensing she wasn’t as easy a mark as he anticipated, he pivoted toward Winnie and extended the card.

  She took it with a bland smile. “What can we do for you, Mr. Perkins?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but I am the owner of this,” he looked around the store with disgust, “business.”

  “Funny,” Beatrice quipped. “You don’t really look like the kind of person to have a business called One Woman’s Junk.”

  He winced a little that she’d made a joke at his expense, but kept his fake smile plastered in place. “I own the building.”

  “Oh,” Winnie said softly. “So, you’re our landlord.” The way she said landlord made it sound like it was the most despicable occupation in the land. Beatrice had to hide a snicker behind her hand. Even Amanda looked amused.

  “Well, yes,” he said. He cleared his throat self-importantly. “I came by to tell you in person, you’re being evicted.”

  “You do understand that our godmother just died,” Amanda said sharply. “That we’re grieving.”

  He shrugged. “Business is business.”

  “And on what grounds are you evicting us?” Winnie asked.

  The man scanned the room, glancing once again at all of their faces. “I’m evicting all of you?”

  “We inherited equal shares of the shop,” Winnie told him calmly.

  The man frowned. “Normally, I prefer to do business with just one person.”

  “Well, now you’re going to have to deal with the Concordia sisters,” Amanda declared.

  The way she said it, like it was something to be proud of, made Beatrice sit up a little straighter in her chair.

  “On what grounds?” Winnie asked again.

  “Late with the rent,” he said with satisfaction.

  Winnie cocked her head to the side and eyed him shrewdly. “How late?”

  Instead of answering, the man began to walk to the door. “I’ll have my lawyers draw up the papers. You’ll have two weeks to get out. I’m sorry for your loss.” He walked out the door, the bell jangling overhead.

  “What are we going to do?” Amanda asked, her voice cracking and shoulders slumping.

  “We’re going to get Letty’s bank records and see how far behind we are on rent,” Winnie said. “That’s to start. Then, we’re going to have to talk to some of the neighbors and see if the rumor I heard from the dry cleaning guy is true.”

  “And what was that again?” Amanda asked. She planted herself on the stool behind the cash register, looking dejected.

  “I was trying to tell you when I came in, but you were busy chasing out a customer,” Winnie rebuked.

  “She wasn’t a customer,” Amanda said.

  Beatrice chuckled. “Actually, she’s one of the neighbors we’re going to have to ask for help.”

  “It’s not funny,” Amanda said.

  Before the argument could escalate any further, the doorbell jangled again. “Never a moment’s silence in this place,” Amanda muttered under her breath. Ash Costin, the carpenter, walked in. He looked at the three women, who looked like they were ready to do battle, and offered a hesitant smile. “Just wanted to see if you ladies needed anything?”

  Amanda shook her head curtly.

  “No, thanks,” Winnie said.

  Ash focused on Beatrice. She could practically feel his business card burning in her pocket. “I thought maybe,” he began awkwardly, “if you’re interested, I mean, I could show you around, show you the sights around town. Give you a reason to stay.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Amanda interjected quickly before Beatrice could turn him down.

  “You’ve been working all day,” Amanda told her younger sister. “It will do you some good to get out.”

  Bea wasn’t certain if Amanda meant that or if she was trying to get her out of the way so that she and Winnie could conduct grown-up business.

  “Excellent,” Ash smiled. “I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

  Beatrice nodded automatically.

  With a smile and a nod, Ash let himself back out of the shop.

  “Now what did you get me into?” Beatrice asked Amanda. “What if he’s trouble?”

  Winnie laughed. “If he’s trouble, he’s the kind I’d like to get into.”

  12

  Winnie gave her order to the teenage boy working behind the counter at the PerC Up Coffee Shop. After he promised to bring it to her when it was ready, she went and took a seat in the back corner. She glanced up at the piece of artwork on the wall across the room.

  It was a woman in profile, wearing a large sunhat. It was made out of coffee beans. To Winnie, it looked like a piece of artwork made by a five-year-old, gluing elbow macaroni onto a piece of paper. It wasn’t her taste.

  She took the pen and the pad of paper she’d taken from the consignment shop and placed them carefully in front of her. She didn’t do anything with them. She just stared at them for a long moment.

  It was strange to have her sisters ganging up on her. It’s not something they normally did. For one thing, their differences in age had precluded that from happening when they were growing up. For another, the only time anyone teamed up against anyone, it was herself and Amanda against Beatrice. And they only did it because they thought their younger sister was self-destructing. She’d always been the wild child of the family. The one who was always getting into trouble.

  Winnie heard whisperering nearby and looked around for the source.

  She was alone in the shop, except for the teenage boy, who was busy fiddling with the coffee machine in the front.

  She shook her head, wondering if perhaps the lightning strike had done more damage than the people at the hospital said. Maybe her hearing had been affected. She seemed to be hearing things quite often.

  She uncapped the pen, flipped open the pad of paper, and began to sketch.

  It was comforting to listen to the scratch of the pen across the paper, to watch the lines form, to feel the nib rub against the rough surface. She sketched quickly, needing no inspiration. The picture she was drawing was firmly implanted in her brain.

  She didn’t even look up when the coffee was delivered. “Thank you,” she murmured, more intent on her creation than the delivery of caffeine.

  After a moment, she realized that the deliverer was still standing nearby.

  She glanced up.

  Piper, the shop’s owner, smiled. “Okay if I join you?” she asked.

  Winnie nodded and moved to cover the picture with her hand.

  “It looks just like Letty,” Piper said as she settled into the seat opposite her. She’d brought her own drink and pushed a plate of cookies across the table, indicating they could share it. “You’re good.”

  “Not really,” Winnie said. She capped the pen and flipped the pa
d closed so nobody else could see what she had done.

  Piper shrugged. “It’s better than anything else I’ve got hanging here.”

  Winnie chose not to tell her that that didn’t mean much.

  “So, I heard Mr. Perkins came to see you,” Piper said in a voice that was a little too casual.

  Winnie nodded slowly. “He did.”

  Piper sipped her coffee and glanced in the direction of the teenage boy, who was busy playing on his phone. “He wants you out?” Piper asked with resignation.

  Winnie nodded.

  “Are you going to leave?” Piper asked carefully.

  Winnie took a cookie and bought herself a moment to think. She really wasn’t in the position to be speaking for her sisters.

  “He seemed awfully eager to get us out,” Winnie said. “He said something about evicting us because the rent hadn’t been paid. That doesn’t sound like Letty.”

  “It doesn’t,” Piper agreed with a frown.

  “Something sounds funny about the whole thing,” Winnie confided.

  “I wouldn’t put it past Perkins to do something underhanded. He really wants everyone out.”

  Winnie nodded. She’d done business with his kind before.

  “One Woman’s Junk is the lynchpin of the stores. Letty has the longest lease.” Piper covered her mouth in horror. “I mean, she had the longest lease. Now, you girls do. If he can get you out…” Piper drifted off, her eyes filling with tears. Blinking rapidly, she looked away.

  “Hey, hey,” Winnie said uncomfortably. Reaching across the table, she patted her arm. She hated seeing other people cry. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  Piper shrugged. “Like I said, you’ve got the longest lease. If he breaks that, he’s in the position to kick everybody else out.”

  “Oh, so there’s no pressure on us,” Winnie joked. She was rewarded with a weak smile from Piper.

  “He wants everybody out so he can sell the land to a developer.” Piper’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her coffee cup harder. “They want to put condos here.”

  Winnie nodded her understanding. “You are fairly close to the water. It’s, what, a ten minute drive to the beach from here?”

  “Everything in Sarasota is getting to be considered close to the water,” Piper said bitterly. “They’re going to force all of the small businesses out.”

  Not knowing what to say, Winnie nodded sympathetically.

  “I’ve put everything I had into this place,” Piper said softly. “I don’t have anything to start over again.”

  A lump rose in Winnie’s throat. She understood that feeling completely. She’d poured her whole life, her time, her energy, her money, her talent, into her advertising agency. And now it was gone.

  “I can’t believe I made such a giant mistake,” Piper complained.

  “I know the feeling,” Winnie said.

  13

  Beatrice tore through the racks of clothes, trying to find something suitable to wear to her tour of Sarasota with Ash. She quickly settled on a classic yellow sundress and then picked a sunflower pendant to go with it from the table she’d already sorted.

  Amanda flipped over the closed sign and helped her prepare.

  It was awkward for Beatrice to get in the dress, considering the brace on her finger and cast on her leg. But Amanda helped her pull the dress over her head and buttoned it up in the back.

  “I used to do this when you were little,” Amanda said, a hint of a smile in her voice. “You probably don’t remember that.”

  Beatrice shook her head.

  “Poor Letty was so overwhelmed when she first took us in,” Amanda said. “Her house wasn’t equipped for three little girls.” She trailed off.

  Beatrice looked up to see that her big sister was misty eyed. Amanda cleared her throat and said with immense gratitude, “But she did the best that she could. I tried to help out a little bit, but it was never enough.”

  “You were only ten,” Beatrice reminded her gently. “You shouldn’t have had the responsibility of raising your sisters.”

  Amanda fiddled with the rose quartz earrings. “We all muddled through.”

  “You muddled,” Beatrice said. “I was a one-person wrecking ball.” Her heart squeezed with regret as she remembered all of the heartache that she’d caused Letty growing up.

  “You were that,” Amanda said with a wry chuckle.

  Beatrice winced. “I remember.”

  As though on cue, she heard the sheep’s voice say, “And they only knew half the story, right?”

  The voice was right. Letty and her sisters only knew the trouble she’d gotten into when she’d been caught. There were a lot of times she’d gotten away with worse stuff.

  She ignored the voice. But she couldn’t ignore the fear that she was somehow going crazy because of the lightning strike. She’d never heard voices this loud before. Sure, she thought she heard them when she was a little kid, but that’s what little kids did, they heard imaginary things. But now, she was convinced a toy black sheep was engaging her in conversation.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Amanda asked.

  Beatrice shook her head. “I think I’ve got it under control.”

  Amanda nodded her approval. “Then, I’ll re-open for an hour and see if anybody else wanders in.”

  Amanda went to re-open the store, and Beatrice went looking for shoes. There was a box of them for sale in the back corner. And since she had a cast on that covered one foot, she only needed one shoe, a right one.

  She rolled her wheelchair over to the box, which had no organization whatsoever, and began pawing through it, excavating for buried treasure, she hoped.

  It was then that she saw the flash of green.

  It was a strange color for a pair of shoes, but it would have looked nice with the yellow sundress, so she dug for it. She pulled it out by its strap, hoping that it would be a sandal that would fit her. Instead, it was a purse. More specifically, it looked like the purse that Detective Keller had been looking for. She examined the stitching and hardware and determined it was definitely a knockoff of a Tucci. She flipped it over and found the small scratch in the leather that she’d noticed in the detective’s photo.

  It was definitely the same item.

  She swallowed hard, realizing Letty had stolen goods in her shop.

  She glanced furtively toward the front of the store where Amanda was busy staring out the front window. She wondered again what Amanda was looking for, but she didn’t give it too much thought.

  Beatrice panicked. What should she do? Why did Letty have the purse? And had she hidden it in the box of shoes thinking that nobody would look there for it?

  “Hide it,” the toy sheep said.

  Beatrice hesitated.

  “Listen to Pim,” the voice urged. “Pim gives the best advice.”

  “Who the hell is Pim?” Bea muttered under her breath.

  “Me,” the sheep in her pocket yelled. “I am the great and mighty Pim.”

  Bea scooped the toy out of his hiding place and examined him slowly. “You’re a toy.”

  “I am a magnificent creation,” he countered.

  “You’re missing half your face,” she whispered, looking around furtively to make sure Amanda didn’t catch her talking to a toy black sheep. Her sister was oblivious at the other end of the shop, frowning at the front window.

  “Better to judge someone on how they act, rather than how they look.”

  Bea tilted her head, considering Pim’s observation.

  “Move quickly,” the sheep urged. “Hide it.”

  “Where?”

  “A bigger purse,” he instructed. “Hurry.”

  Well aware that there was a good chance she was cracking up, Beatrice rolled over to the rack that held the handbags for sale. She found a beat up old denim one that would be big enough to hide the green purse in. Glancing up again to make sure Amanda didn’t see, she hurriedly stuffed the Pr
issy purse inside the denim one.

  She had to admit that Pim’s hiding space idea was decent, even though it looked terrible with the yellow dress, but there was nothing she could do about that. Her sole purpose was to make sure that Letty’s reputation wasn’t ruined by a cheap Moochie. But still, she was curious. She didn’t believe her godmother to be a thief. So why was there stolen property in her shop?

  The bell over the door jangled as Ash walked in.

  He smiled at her.

  Knowing she was clasping stolen property on her lap, she could barely meet his gaze.

  14

  Amanda watched Ash carefully wheel Beatrice down the ramp toward his truck. She watched the way he smiled at her, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Even in a cast and a wheelchair, she’s able to land a guy.”

  “Some men like a damsel in distress,” a male voice said from behind her.

  Amanda whirled around and saw the man in the seersucker suit lounging in the velvet-covered chair back by the dressing room.

  “How did you get in here?” she asked. She knew she’d been alone in the store.

  He shrugged.

  “What do you want?” Amanda asked. “You keep showing up.”

  “I find you interesting,” the man said. He tilted his head and examined her from head to toe.

  Amanda fought the urge to squirm, and failed. To disguise her discomfort, she picked up a hanger off the nearest rack. She held the shirt as a shield between her body and the man.

  “You’re definitely interesting,” the man decided.

  Amanda wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t like being alone in the store with this strange man, but she didn’t like the idea of running out into the street looking for help and leaving him alone inside the shop. She decided that since she was nearer the door than he, she should just stay where she was and figure out what he wanted.

  “Were you a friend of Letty’s?” she asked.

  He shook his head.