by Dale Mayer
She held open the door while he carried them in, and they unwrapped both pieces and placed them back on the mantel. “You need somebody who can give you a hand with the little stuff, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Scott was supposed to send me some names, but I don’t think he has yet.” She yawned unexpectedly, then apologized. “I finished Penny’s garden this morning, so I admit that I just want to sit and veg for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Considering your dining room looks like it does, … maybe fix that up first …”
“It was in the back of my mind to sort more of that too,” she said. “Or sorting my bedroom. The more I get cleared out, the more I realize there is more to clear out.”
“You’ll get through it,” he said in a commiserating tone. “I got off early today. Have you eaten?”
“I had another sandwich,” she said, “but, if you’re offering food, I’m happy to eat again.”
He chuckled at that and said, “I thought we could take some of that spaghetti sauce, if you haven’t frozen it all yet, and turn it into something for dinner. I have a green salad and a sauce dish in mind.”
“Absolutely. Are you staying here until dinner then?”
“No, I can get it started, leave it to simmer, and then come back in a few hours. I’m taking my mom to her doctors.”
“Is she all right?”
Mack nodded. “Just checkups, prescription refills, that sort of thing.”
And that was what he did. She watched in fascination as he brought out this big, thick, rich meat sauce he’d made before, turned up the temperature ever-so-slightly until it warmed up, and then he added some more spices and more tomatoes.
“Is there enough for more spaghetti?” she asked hopefully.
He shot her a look. “I can pick up some pasta, if that’s what you’d like. But maybe we’ll have that on Friday.”
“I’d love that,” she said. “And, while you’re there, can you get me several packages, please? I’ll pay you.”
He just waved his hand at her offer of money.
She pulled out the two one-hundred-dollar bills and said, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do to break these. I guess I go to the bank.”
He looked at them in surprise, and she explained, “This is how Penny paid me.”
“Well, good for you,” he said. “But, yeah, the bank. Otherwise one of the big grocery stores will accept them. A lot of the little stores won’t take anything that big in case they’re counterfeit.”
She looked at the money with suspicion.
He just chuckled. “Hey, that’s not your problem,” he said. “I highly doubt Penny had that money sitting around. She probably just got it from the bank and brought it to you.”
“Maybe,” she said, “but I would have preferred smaller bills.”
“Money is money,” he said cheerfully.
“True enough,” she said and pushed the money back in her pocket. “Maybe I can get a few more loads to Wendy too. I need to see her anyway. She was supposed to call me about my last load—if she didn’t accept some of it—and she never did, and I didn’t have time to follow up.”
“So just leave this sauce to simmer for a couple hours,” Mack said. “I’ll do a little more grocery shopping.” He opened the fridge, took a good look, and said, “We still have a fair bit here. We just need more pasta.” She nodded, and he said, “I’ll see what I can find.” He waved a hand, and, just like that, he was gone.
Since she had eaten something, and this was too hot to snack on—which she shouldn’t do anyway, but it was so hard because it was like a thick, rich, meaty soup—she grabbed a cup of tea and headed upstairs. The mattress looked so damn inviting. The trouble was the rest of her room looked like a nightmare. With the dresser and the vanity and the bed frame and night tables all gone, everything was on the floor. She didn’t have a place to put a lamp. She literally had nothing left.
In the spare bedroom she had two night tables, so she moved one to her master bedroom, shifted the mattress on the floor so it would at least look like it belonged with the nightstand, and, with one of the lamps from the spare bedroom, she could have some light. She stood in the center and looked around. “Do I work on the clothes in the closet, or do I work on the stuff in boxes in the spare bedroom?” she muttered. She’d moved a bunch of that stuff off the floor in her bedroom into boxes and then off to the spare bedroom to make some room for the movers. She was just spreading around the mess instead of handling it. But, with the dresser out from the back of the closet, she literally had nothing to put small items of clothing into now. “That probably wasn’t the best idea, was it?”
But, in her heart of hearts, she knew there was no way she wouldn’t sell those pieces of a very large and expensive set. “Speaking of which, a piece is still missing,” she muttered to herself. “He said it was the tallboy. Or a highboy. I think either name can be used. I need to keep an eye out for that.”
She dove into the boxes in her spare bedroom, sorting what she could, pulling out everything she had absolutely no wish to keep, and anything that was clothing went back into the box to take to Wendy’s. Doreen laughed and chortled as she collected a further $183.46. Then she packed up four boxes of clothing and set them off to the side for Wendy. She had another two boxes of stuff that she hadn’t decided if she was keeping. At least she more or less had the floor cleaned up in her spare bedroom.
Then she went to her closet. With another double handful of hangers pulled from there, she sorted through them on the bed in the spare bedroom, becoming a bit more of a pro at this process. She went through more pockets, found lots more small change and small bills, chuckling in delight and thinking about how much fun this was, comparing it to her grandmother finding the chocolates in her own grandmother’s furniture. Same idea and probably worth about the same amount to each child at the time.
Keeping two items, she put fifteen more into a pile for Wendy and did it again and then did it again. By the time she’d finished the front rack, it was time to stop. She’d been so busy sorting that she’d not bothered to count the money, and her bowl was looking mighty abundant. Such a wonderful gift. She checked her watch and thought, I could run to Wendy’s right now.
Picking up two piles of clothes to sell on hangers, she carried them down and laid them over the back of the pot chairs in the living room, went to the car, opened up all the doors, and carefully moved the boxes inside and then rearranged all of the hanging clothing on top. By the time she was done, she could feel her energy sagging yet again. But she could smell the spaghetti sauce too. She walked back in, stirred it, and shut it off. If nobody would be here, no way would she leave that fire devil to burn on its own. She feared she’d have no house to come back to.
With Mugs in tow, she locked up the other two animals and headed to Wendy’s.
“There you are,” Wendy said as Doreen walked in. “I was expecting to hear from you before now.”
“I’ve been a little busy,” Doreen admitted.
Chapter 18
Wednesday Late Afternoon …
“Sorry, I’ve been very busy,” Doreen corrected. “I did bring more boxes and more clothing, if you want them.”
Wendy nodded. “Yes, but I don’t have any time to sort right now. It’s been crazy busy at the store. Maybe that’s a good thing?”
“For you, it certainly is,” Doreen said.
“I’ve had multiple pieces sell since we brought in your last load. This time, I’ll give you a big closet rod on wheels,” Wendy said. “If you can shuttle that out the back door, just hang up your items and bring them in that way.”
So, they put it at the back door, and Doreen unloaded what she had on hangers; then she brought in the boxes. “I honestly don’t know what to do with this stuff. I hope you like it.” She opened the first box and pulled out silk stockings. Wendy’s face lit with delight. Then Doreen pulled out the lingerie and skimpy nightgowns and some items she didn’t even understand. She
held one of them up, and Wendy chuckled.
“Those are old garter systems,” she said. “They’re making a comeback too. I’ll be able to sell this stuff easily. It’s less of a size issue. It’s more of a taste thing.”
“I imagine it is,” Doreen said. “I can’t imagine it’s terribly comfortable.”
“Ah, but for special events …” Wendy said with a cheeky grin. “Leave the boxes. I’ll sort through them, and, well, I’ll let you know as we go.”
“I thought you would call me on Saturday,” Doreen said.
“I’d planned to.” Wendy nodded. “I’m sorry. I just got so busy. I don’t know what’s going on, but business has been very, very good.”
“Any idea if much of my stuff is selling?”
“Let me take a look at the books.” She pulled out her big ledger account and brought up Doreen’s page. “Actually,” she said, “I owe you over four hundred dollars so far, payable at the next quarter.”
Doreen was stunned. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely,” Wendy said. “You’ve given me hundreds of pieces so far. I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t get two or three times that before we’re done.”
“Sounds lovely to me,” Doreen said in absolute delight. With a wave of her hand, she went back out to her car. There she talked to Mugs. “Isn’t that fantastic?”
Wendy knocked on the window. Doreen rolled it down and said, “Sorry, did I forget something?”
“No,” she said, “not at all. I just wanted to remind you that it’ll still be a few months before you get your money.”
Doreen smiled and said, “I know. That’s why I’m doing gardening jobs in the meantime. I was working for Penny Jordan for the last two days, getting her house ready for photos so she can sell it.”
Wendy stared at Doreen. “She’s selling her house?”
Doreen nodded. “I think it’s just too much after George’s death.”
“She’s had a lot of death in her life,” Wendy said slowly. “I’m glad George was good to her because she had a pretty rough upbringing from what I hear.”
“I heard something about that. Apparently it was an abusive household, and then a younger brother died at her father’s hands or something.”
“Penny and I went to school together.”
Doreen felt her stomach twist with excitement. “Seriously? I often wondered,” she said, “what Penny was like when she was younger. It must have been pretty rough losing her brother.”
“She alternated between anger, sadness, more anger, and more sadness,” Wendy said with a decisive nod. “It was rough on everybody. And then when Johnny went missing, well …”
“I’m sure that was hard,” Doreen said quietly. “And, of course, since then she has lost George.”
“Absolutely, and there was some talk about that too,” Wendy said, her gaze going directly to Doreen’s. “But you haven’t heard anything about that, have you?”
“Heard what?” Doreen asked, hedging.
“Just some talk that maybe she helped George on his way.”
“Like a mercy killing?” Doreen asked.
“Maybe, yet nobody really talked about it much. Just that Penny and George had had some pretty vicious fights throughout the years.”
“Sure, but like everybody seems to say, George was good to her and for her.”
“Yes,” Wendy said. “But Penny has a very good male friend … But that makes me sound like I’m being hard on her, and that’s not how I meant it. I’m sure the police would have known if anything untoward came up about George’s death.”
Doreen nodded. “I’m sure they would,” she said. “Besides, what possible reason would she have to hurt George?”
“Losing Johnny was always a big elephant in their marriage, not knowing what happened there,” Wendy said. “Imagine having something like that sitting there, eating away at you while you wondered what happened, the same unanswered questions always a part of your marriage. That would not have been easy.”
“No,” Doreen said. “I don’t imagine it would have been.”
On that note, Wendy said, “I’ve got to get back into the store. Talk to you later.” And she turned and went inside.
Chapter 19
Wednesday Late Afternoon …
Back home again, Doreen let Mugs inside the house. As she stood here, she looked around and said, “I know we cleared out a ton, and this floor is basically empty, but honestly it’s still too full for my liking.” And then her gaze landed on the inset handle in the floor.
She walked into the kitchen, pulled out a butter knife, and came back, trying again to scrape the handle free. What she didn’t want to do was damage the floor, and she didn’t want to end up breaking the handle either. If it was a handle. She was on her hands and knees, intent on gently loosening up the floorboard when Mack asked, “What are you doing?”
Startled, she looked up to see Mack standing in the doorway, frowning at her. He had a bag of groceries in his hand. She motioned at the floor and said, “Doesn’t that look like a handle to you?”
He looked down at the floor and said, “Hang on.” He put his groceries on the kitchen table and walked back over again. He bent down and said, “Did you dig this in?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been trying to clean all the dirt out. But you can see the outline here,” and she traced what looked like a handle that should lift up.
He nodded and pulled out a Swiss pocketknife and chose a flat blade.
She asked, “What’s the difference between that and this?”
“The sharp point.” He gently dug his knife into the wood along the handle’s edge. There was an odd pop sound, and, sure enough, the whole thing lifted. She stared at him in surprise.
He said, “Wow, I didn’t really expect that.”
“Neither did I.”
They both stepped back, not knowing how big the opening would be. He lifted the handle, and a big piece of flooring came up. It had been so well hidden by the grains of the wood and having always been under the rugs that nobody had seen it for quite a while, she guessed. She looked down in front of her at the large open space. It was dark and shadowed, but she could see a cement floor. “What is this for?”
He groaned. “Why is nothing ever easy with you?”
“Hey, I found out today people are talking about Penny possibly helping George along on his death.”
“I did check, and no autopsy was done.”
She looked up at him. “What? Why?”
“Because there was no need. He had a serious heart condition,” he said calmly. He bent down, turned on his phone’s flashlight, and turned it toward the space. “I thought a basement was in this house?”
“Yes, but I thought it was over there,” she said, turning to the wall where the living room pine hutch was.
He looked at it, looked at her, and asked, “Why would there be a basement door back there?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I can’t move the hutch to access it.”
He walked over and gently pulled the great big pine hutch from the wall. And, sure enough, almost in the same design work as the latch in the floor, was another door.
With the pine hutch out of the way, he opened up the door and found a light switch on the inside. He turned that on, but the light that shone through that space did not reach underneath the floorboards of the living room. He said, “Let’s go through the normal door first.”
She joined him. Mugs was already sniffing around the new opening. She hoped he was smart enough to not fall in. She called him to her side and motioned at the staircase down to the basement. She stepped inside and said, “I wouldn’t have known that hole in the floor was here at all.”
“No,” he said, frowning. “And I have no idea why it’s there. Especially without any stairs over there.”
Ahead of her, Mugs ventured down the basement stairs, sniffing as he went. She turned to Mack and said, “It doesn’t smell all that fresh.” But
she headed downward anyway.
A railing ran along one wall, and the wood on the steps looked to have had a lot of use over the years. She made her way down, carefully turning the corner at the bottom.
And let out a cry—one of surprise or pain, even she couldn’t tell.
Mack was on her heels. He leaned over her head to see in front of her and laughed. “You could look on this as another gold mine again.”
“Or I could look on this as a junkyard,” she said with a sigh. The basement was completely stuffed full of furniture. Couches were heaped on top of couches, chairs on top of tables. “How on earth am I supposed to begin to sort through this?”
“I suggest you take photographs and then contact your Scott guy again.”
“I can send him some photos,” she agreed, “but, yes, after he found the dining room, I should have just tried to have him get in here, but I thought you and I should try first. The guy from Christie’s shouldn’t be breaking into my basement, right? It was just all happening so fast that I needed a moment to catch my breath.”
“Maybe you now have a reason,” he said, pointing to something in the far back corner.
He turned on several more lights. There were wooden walls, a wooden ceiling, and a wooded floor.
“I guess this is just storage?”
“It was probably an old rec room for the kids,” he said. “But, in the back is a dresser, and it looks awfully familiar.”
She peered around his pointing hand and said, “It’s hard to see.”
“It’s got the same scroll markings as your bed set had.”
“Really? Because we’re missing a tallboy dresser.”
“Well, if a dresser that’s tall fits that description,” he said, “one is right over there.” He stepped in front of her and moved a couple chairs off to the side, so he could squeeze in. He led the way until they were at the back, and then, with him almost sitting on top of a table, she squeezed past him to take a look at the dresser.
She cried out in joy, “It is the same, isn’t it? That means the set is complete.” She turned back and looked up at him in awe. “You know what that means?”