by J. B. Lynn
“Oh God, are we back to that?” Amanda asked, trying to sneak a peek, while still sounding skeptical.
“It’s about time you found it,” Rupert drawled from his place over by the bookshelf.
Amanda turned and stared at him. “You knew this was there?”
“Why do you think I’m always here?” he responded, pointing to the shelves filled with books.
“Well, why didn’t you just tell me,” Amanda asked with annoyance.
“What’s he saying?” Bea interrupted.
“He’s saying that it’s about time we found it,” Amanda snapped.
“It must be important, then,” Bea said, leaning even closer to the map.
Winnie snatched it away, jerking her head in the direction of the door. “We’ve got company.”
She folded it up and stuck it back in her pocket as the teenage subject of her sketches and his father walked into the shop. Unlike in her sketches, the kid looked tired and weak.
“Welcome to One Woman’s Junk,” Amanda said smoothly, knowing that the father wanted the son to find the shirt on his own. “Can we help you find something?”
The father shook his head, patted his son on the shoulder, and said, “We’re just going to look around.”
Amanda nodded. Bea pretended to get busy with something behind the cash register, and Winnie started sorting a rack of t-shirts.
“Take your time,” Amanda said. “We have all kinds of treasures here.”
The boy shuffled forward and started searching through the racks of clothing.
Amanda fought the urge to tell him he was in the women’s section and he would never find what he was looking for there. Instead, she caught the father’s eye and jerked her head in the direction of the rack that the jersey was hidden in plain sight on. The man nodded his acknowledgement and began to move in that direction.
The boy, though, got distracted by Nutmeg, who was sitting on the floor staring at him intently.
“Hello,” the teenager said softly.
“That’s Nutmeg,” Amanda said, moving toward him. “He’s sort of the shop’s mascot.”
“I thought I was the shop’s mascot,” Angus complained.
All three sisters gave the statue a withering look.
As though the dog understood he was being introduced, he lifted a paw, and waited for the boy to shake it.
A slight smile played at the kid’s lips as he bent over, took the animal’s paw, and then patted his head.
“His name is Nutmeg,” Amanda said again.
“Hi, Nutmeg,” the boy replied formally. “I’m Tanner.”
“Be gone, evil,” Harmony shouted, bursting into the store.
Amanda groaned. Now was not the time for their neighbor’s supernatural silliness.
Winnie, obviously thinking the same thing, moved to intercept the bundle of tie-dye and patchouli. “Can you come back and do this later?” she asked, stepping between Harmony and the boy.
“No,” Harmony declared. “We must cleanse this space now.” She ignored Winnie and started waving her smoking bundle of smudge, fanning the smoke with what looked to be an ostrich feather dyed purple.
Winnie turned to Amanda and shrugged helplessly.
Bea caught Amanda’s eye and gave a slight shake of her head, indicating they should just let Harmony do her thing.
Amanda nodded, recognizing the wisdom of her youngest sister’s silent advice. They all knew that starting a confrontation with Harmony would not help the boy find his jersey.
Harmony moved around the shop, blowing smoke and chanting under her breath. The boy watched her with a mixture of amusement and confusion. His father stared, wide-eyed.
Nutmeg, seeming to be the only one with control over the situation, moved to the rack where the jersey was “hidden” and gave a loud bark.
The boy’s attention moved to the dog, and he moved closer to the rack where his jersey hung.
Harmony kept shuffling around, smudging.
Winnie returned to sorting the rack of t-shirts, and Bea watched the whole thing while perched on the stool behind the cash register. The boy half-heartedly started flipping through the shirts on the rack, and Amanda held her breath.
She knew the moment when he found it because of the way his face changed, his tiredness vanishing.
He picked it up, disbelief shining in his eyes. “Dad,” he called.
His father turned, feigning surprise. “What?”
“I found it,” the boy said, a mixture of joy and excitement energized his tone.
His father hurried toward him. “That’s great, Tanner.”
The boy pulled it off the hanger and held it out in front of him. Nutmeg barked his approval.
Harmony, having reached the kid, started smudging him and his shirt, waving smoke at them.
The father coughed, but the boy stared, transfixed.
“Be gone evil, be gone,” Harmony chanted.
“How much do I owe you?” the father asked Bea.
She shook her head. “Take it.”
The father and his son, Nutmeg trailing behind them, along with wildly smudging Harmony, walked toward the door.
“I owe you everything,” the man said to Amanda under his breath as he passed her.
She offered him a smile. The man and his son walked out, both with big smiles on their faces, seeming lighter somehow.
Harmony turned back to the Concordia sisters. “My work here is done.” She hurried out.
Amanda, Bea, and Winnie smiled at one another. It felt good to have done something nice for someone.
That feeling didn’t last for more than an instant, though, as Detective Tom Keller burst into the shop, looking very worried.
“What is it?” Amanda asked.
Tom locked eyes with her and said, “I have bad news.”
9
Already reeling from her emotional reaction to Tanner, Amanda stumbled backward from the worry blowing off of Tom Keller as he entered the shop. It buffeted her like a punishing ocean wind.
“Steady,” Rupert whispered in her ear.
For once, she was grateful for the ghost’s presence.
Even though they didn’t seem to feel what was coming off of the detective, both of her sisters obviously were able to read his expression.
“What’s wrong?” Bea asked.
“What happened?” Winnie followed up with.
Tom glanced at them, and then focused on Amanda. “I have some news,” he said slowly. “It may upset you.”
Amanda fought back a bitter chuckle. If his reaction was any indication of how she was going to respond to what he had to say, they were in deep trouble.
He spun his gaze to meet that of the other two sisters who were watching him intently.
“There’s a chance,” he said, “that Richardson is going to get out on bail.”
Bea gasped, Winnie audibly gulped, and Amanda protested. “No!”
Tom swung his gaze back to meet hers and shrugged apologetically. “He’s got a lawyer. He could get out on bail until the trial.”
“But he admitted to killing Letty,” Bea wailed.
“And he tried to kill us,” Winnie reminded the room, as though any of them had forgotten that.
“He’s going before a judge who…” Tom hesitated and chose his next words carefully. “Can be lenient,” he said, not bothering to disguise the bitterness he felt.
“So what are we supposed to do?” Bea asked. “Should we leave town?”
“Should we hire protection?” Winnie asked, wrapping her arm around her younger sister’s shoulders.
Tom shrugged. “That’s not my place to tell you what to do.”
Amanda watched her younger sisters, felt their fear. A surge of anger straightened her backbone. “We’re not running,” she declared.
Her sisters and Tom all looked to her.
“We’re keeping the shop open,” she said with determination. “We’re not going to let him scare us off. We’re not go
ing to let Letty’s killer go free.”
Respect glimmered in Tom’s eyes, and he nodded.
“But—” Bea began to protest.
Amanda silenced her with a single look.
“If he gets out, I’ll call you immediately,” Tom promised. “And if that happens, I’ll increase patrols in the area. He’d be crazy to come back here.”
“He killed our godmother, Detective,” Winnie said quietly. “He was going to kill us. I’m pretty sure part of him qualifies as crazy.”
Tom frowned. “I understand you’re afraid.”
“I’m not,” Amanda said. “I’m angry.”
Tom nodded slowly. “I can understand that, too.” He locked eyes with Amanda for a long moment, searching her gaze for something. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he finally nodded, as though he’d found it.
“I’ll give you a call in an hour or two.” He turned on his heel and left the store, leaving the Concordia sisters alone.
The moment he was gone, Winnie rushed to the door and closed it, turned the closed sign over, and locked it. “There’s all that cash in the cookbook,” she reminded them.
“We could use it to get out of town,” Bea said.
“Or we could use it to hire a bodyguard,” Winnie suggested.
“I thought I made myself clear,” Amanda said sternly, playing the oldest sibling card. “We’re not running. We’re not hiding.”
“Well, I don’t want to die,” Bea said.
“Lucky for you, you’re not even staying here,” Amanda snapped.
“We can’t just pretend that nothing’s happening,” Winnie argued. “We’re in real danger if he gets loose.”
Amanda nodded. “I’m not saying we should bury our heads in the sand,” she told them. “I’m just saying we need to draw the line.”
“What line?” Bea asked.
“We stand our ground,” Amanda said. “We show him we’re not afraid.”
Bea raised her hand. “I’m afraid.”
“Me too,” Winnie admitted.
“We need to put on a united front,” Amanda coached. “Not only for Richardson, but for whoever paid him, because I’m willing to bet they’re keeping an eye on us, too.”
Bea shuddered. “You think so?”
Amanda frowned. “You don’t?”
“I hadn’t considered it.”
“Well, I have,” Amanda said. “And I’m not going to give Peter Perkins the satisfaction of chasing us away.”
“We don’t know for sure that it’s Perkins,” Winnie pointed out.
“But we know he’s the one with the most to gain,” Amanda countered.
Winnie nodded her agreement. “We have to have more of a plan if we’re going to stand here and act tough.”
“We could hire Hank to hang around here during the day,” Amanda suggested.
Bea clapped her hands. “That’s an excellent idea, since we already know that he’s capable of stopping Richardson.”
Winnie flashed a thumbs up, getting behind the idea of hiring the handyman to act as a bodyguard.
“But that doesn’t solve the problem of what to do at night.”
Amanda frowned. Her sisters had a valid point.
Angus, outside the shop, said something that was muffled by the closed door. Amanda opened it and, with Winnie’s help, wrestled him inside. Then she relocked the door.
“I shall guard you, my wee lassies,” Angus announced in his thick Scottish brogue.
The sisters all looked over at the ashtray holder.
“I am a great warrior.”
“Except you can’t move,” Pim piped up from his place on the bookshelf.
Nutmeg barked.
Amanda glanced at the little dog. “Are you trying to tell us you’re going to be our watchdog?”
Nutmeg barked again.
“I’ll help, too,” Rupert offered.
Amanda swung her head toward the bookshelf that he was standing near.
“What did he say?” Bea asked.
“That he’ll help, too,” Amanda translated.
“All due respect,” Winnie said. “He’s already dead, how’s he going to help us stay alive?”
“Hey,” Rupert reminded them. “I went and alerted Harmony the last time.”
Bea and Winnie couldn’t hear him, and Amanda didn’t think it was worth conveying that message to them. Instead, she said, “We’ll figure something out.”
“Besides,” Bea added hopefully. “Detective Keller didn’t know if Richardson was going to get out. He just said it was a possibility.”
Winnie nodded. “We’ll know better in a few hours.”
Amanda nodded, letting her sisters have the respite of a few hours of worrying less, but she already knew deep in her heart what was going to happen. She’d felt it emanating from the detective the second he came through the door.
Things were going to get dangerous.
10
A knock at the door interrupted the Concordia sisters’ worry session.
“It could be him,” Bea said, ducking down behind the cash register. “He could be here to finish us off.”
“And he knocked politely?” Amanda mocked.
Winnie watched her bickering sisters with interest. It was strange that Bea, who’d always been the wild child, always afraid of nothing, was the most fearful of Richardson, and Amanda, who’d always played everything safe, was showing the most backbone.
The person at the door knocked again.
“Whoever they are, apparently, they can’t read,” Amanda groused.
Winnie squinted at the door and recognized the person standing on the other side.
“That’s Bruce Gold’s son,” she said. “I met him at the hospital.”
She hurried forward and, without conferring with her sisters about the decision, opened the door and ushered the young man, whose father was the owner of the dry cleaning shop that burned down, inside.
“Hi,” he said, smiling at her. “I don’t know if you remember me but—”
“Of course, I do,” she said. “You’re Bruce’s son. These are my sisters, Bea, and Amanda.” She pointed to each in turn. Bea waved weakly, and Amanda nodded firmly.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Winnie asked.
“I should probably introduce myself,” he said, sticking out his hand. “I don’t even think I gave you my name the last time. I’m Jacob.”
Winnie shook it warmly. “Is there something I can help you with, Jacob?”
“I understand that in addition to saving my father’s life, you are responsible for finding his stolen hanger, the golden hanger.”
Winnie shrugged and looked away, not wanting to take credit for either of those things. “Just dumb luck.”
Jacob shook his head. “No, my family and I owe you a tremendous debt. That hanger means the world to my father.”
“Why?” Bea piped up from behind the cash register timidly.
Jacob smiled ruefully. “My father’s parents did not approve of him going into the business,” he explained. “He won that, given out by the association of dry cleaners, his second year in business. It was proof that he had made the right decision.”
“I’m glad he’s getting it back,” Winnie said.
“How is he feeling?” Amanda asked.
Jacob shrugged. “He took quite a beating.”
“Has an arrest been made?” Amanda asked.
Winnie tried to give her sister a discouraging look. The man was going through a lot, he didn’t need to be interrogated by them.
“No, not yet. I was kind of hoping that this fella they arrested for the arson would be charged with the assault, too.”
“Have you heard he’s getting out?” Bea asked, her voice soft and scared.
Jacob frowned. “Really?”
“He may get out,” Amanda corrected. “Apparently, he’s going to trial, or whatever it is, to find out if he can get out on bail.”
Jacob shook hi
s head and scowled. “So, does that put my father in more danger?”
Winnie shrugged helplessly. She understood his frustration with not having any answers and feeling like things were out of his control.
“My father didn’t see who attacked him,” Jacob said. “But if his attacker believes that he did...” He trailed off, letting the implications sink in.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to alert the hospital staff,” Winnie suggested gently. She didn’t want to contribute to any kind of uncalled-for paranoia, but at the same time, it was better to be safe than sorry.
Jacob nodded. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you, both for saving my dad, and for finding the hanger.”
“Really,” Winnie told him humbly. “It was just dumb luck both times.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help you…” Jacob offered.
“You can get your dad to testify against Richardson,” Bea suggested.
“He would if he could,” Jacob said with a frown. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Richardson. People often end up getting exactly what they deserve.”
With that, he turned and left the store.
“I’m going to go and see if I can find Hank,” Amanda announced. “I’ll ask if he’s interested in doing daytime guard duty.”
“That’s a great idea,” Bea said.
“And I think we should re-open,” Amanda said, turning the closed sign to open on the door and starting to wrestle Angus outside.
“Do we really think that’s the best idea?” Bea asked.
“Letty used to say, it’s easy to do the right thing when it’s easy. It’s brave to do the right thing when it’s hard,” Amanda reminded them.
Winnie nodded. “That’s how we can honor Letty, by being brave.”
Amanda patted her on the shoulder, and Bea let out a sigh of resignation.
“Fine,” Bea agreed grudgingly. “We’ll stay open.”
Having gotten Angus situated, Amanda headed down in the direction of PerC Up in the hope of finding Hank.
Winnie turned back to face her younger sister. “It’ll be okay.”
Bea shook her head. “You don’t know that.”
Before Winnie could respond, Peabody, the quirky picker, burst in.
“Salutations,” he boomed.