by J. B. Lynn
Winnie wondered how such a big voice could come out of such a small man.
“Hey,” Bea said, perking up for the first time since Tom had made his announcement. “You’re never going to believe it, I actually sold that used hearth brush yesterday afternoon.” She moved toward the cash register to get him his payment for the item.
“Of course, you did,” Peabody said, puffing out his chest. “I bring you only the best.”
“And what do you bring us today?” Winnie asked curiously, glad Amanda wasn’t there for the big reveal. Her sister had not yet recovered from the trauma of the guzunder.
“Treasure,” Peabody replied. He placed a long wooden box on the counter in front of the cash register. “This is real treasure.”
Winnie felt herself holding her breath as she waited for him to open the box. He’d brought them some strange things to sell, so she couldn’t wait to see what he’d brought this time.
He flipped the latch that held the box closed and lifted the lid. Metal gleamed against a velvet background.
It was a blade of some kind, sharp, if the way the light bounced off it was any indication.
“A pirate cutlass,” Peabody declared triumphantly.
“I have no idea what that’s worth,” Bea said.
“You can do research on it,” Winnie replied. She really didn’t care how much it was worth. She liked the idea of having a weapon in the shop considering everything that was going on.
11
As soon as Greta, their part-time employee who didn’t seem to do much actual work, came into the shop, Winnie muttered something about caffeine and carbs and left.
Bea studied the dagger that Peabody had left for them carefully. She’d taken pictures of it and compared them to some she found for sale online. It was worth more than she expected. She never realized that weapons like this were so collectable.
She glanced across the store at Greta, who was humming under her breath while she straightened a rack of clothes.
Bea looked at the jewelry case in front of the cash register and decided that since the dagger was so valuable, she would put it inside, if it fit. She wasn’t so sure about that, since the handle of the blade was thick, and the case itself was quite shallow.
She unlocked the jewelry case with the key kept in the drawer of the cash register, and began taking the pieces out.
“What are you doing?” Greta asked, strolling over.
“Just rearranging a few things,” Bea said mildly. She was saved from having to explain herself further when a customer walked in and Greta fluttered over to her, offering her help. Bea wasn’t sure why, for the most part, they even kept the jewelry case locked, except that these were the kinds of items that could disappear if somebody with sticky fingers wandered by. Somebody like her, somebody who was drawn to items and wanted to liberate them.
She shook her head and decided that keeping the case locked was probably a good idea, after all.
She’d removed all of the pieces and placed them carefully in an empty basket lined with satin, and then she retrieved the dagger.
She placed it in the center, then slowly lowered the lid of the case. The glass hit the handle, as she’d feared. Unfortunately, it was about an eighth of an inch too high.
Frowning, wanting to find a solution to her problem, she took the dagger back out and stared at the case. She pressed down on the velvet-covered lining of the case and realized that it had some give.
“Maybe there’s something underneath it I can remove,” she muttered to herself. Slowly and carefully, using the blade of the dagger, she lifted the corner of the lining away.
“Take your time,” Greta called.
Bea glanced over and realized she had just brought the customer over to the changing areas.
“Sometimes her perkiness irritates me,” Pim piped up from his place on the bookshelf.
Bea glanced up at the toy sheep and nodded. It wasn’t like she could agree with him out loud, but she felt the same way. Returning her attention to the task at hand, she slowly began to pull the lining up, taking care not to rip it. She’d got about half of it up when she realized there was something underneath it. Something large, and rectangular maybe, that was about a half an inch thick, and wrapped in a cloth bag. Bea wondered if Letty had even known that whatever it was, was there.
She reached in and tugged on the object. It was heavier than she expected, but it came out easily.
Dropping the lining of the case back into place, she clutched what felt like a rectangular picture frame to her chest as the customer emerged and started laughing with Greta.
“What did you find?” Pim called.
She shook her head, not wanting Greta to find out about it. She didn’t know why she felt so secretive, but she wanted to keep the discovery to herself.
She grabbed a large tote bag hanging on a nearby rack and dropped the frame into it just as Greta and the customer emerged.
The customer paid for her purchase, and Bea smiled at her widely. “Come back and see us soon, you never know what we’ll have next.”
That felt like a good slogan for her life; she never knew what was going to happen next.
As soon as the customer was gone, Greta said, “I could really use a cup of coffee.”
“Go ahead,” Bea said. “It’s not like there’s anybody here.”
“I’ll be quick,” Greta promised. “Can I get you anything?”
“A coffee would be good,” Bea said, handing her cash out of the cash register.
Their blonde assistant left the store, patting Angus on the snout as she walked past.
“Someday,” he said in his deep Scottish brogue, “I’m going to bite off that hand of hers. She treats me like I’m a piece of meat.”
“You are,” Pim told him from his space on the bookshelf.
Bea shook her head at their squabbling but didn’t intervene. Instead, she grabbed the tote bag, brought it back behind the cash register so nobody could see what she was doing, took a seat on the stool, and put it on her lap.
“Do you feel something?” Pim asked when he noticed that she was just sitting there with her eyes closed, just holding it.
“I feel Letty,” she told him.
“What’s she doing?” the sheep asked.
She shook her head. “It’s not a vision, it’s just a feeling. It’s Letty.”
Blinking back tears, she said, “It’s a good feeling.” She pulled out the cloth bag when she realized it had a tag that said, “For Bea.”
“I found my thing,” she muttered. Slowly, she unwrapped the cloth bag and reached inside. She pulled out the frame carefully. It was wrapped in tissue paper. Her hand shaking even though she didn’t know why, she began to unearth the treasure inside.
“I figured you were alone, so it was safe to come say hello,” Ash called from the doorway of the shop.
Startled, Bea jumped and almost dropped the frame. She clutched it to her chest tightly.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Ash said, moving closer. “I saw that Greta had left, so I thought I’d just come…” He trailed off, his eyes going wide as he took in her expression.
“What is it?” he asked worriedly.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just found this.” She held up the still tissue-wrapped package for him to see.
“What’s in it?”
“I was just about to find out.” She laid it back down on her lap and finished removing the paper. She turned it over, so she could see what the contents of the frame were. She let out a shaky gasp.
Ash walked around the cash register and placed a supportive arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly.
“What a cute baby,” he said, looking at the photograph.
“It’s me,” Bea said softly.
“And who are the women?” Ash asked, peering closely at the two women who were fussing over the child.
“That’s Letty,” she said, pointing to one, “and that’s my mom.” Her voice dropped as she acknow
ledged her mother.
Ash glanced at her sharply. “Are you okay?”
Bea nodded and swallowed the painful lump that had risen in her throat.
“I was a third kid,” she said. “There are a lot of pictures of Amanda, and some of Winnie,” she said. “But my parents died when I was so young, there are very few of me.”
Ash hugged her tightly.
“I’ve never seen this before,” she told him.
“It must have meant a lot to Letty,” Ash remarked. “Look at what’s engraved into the frame.”
He pointed at lettering that she hadn’t noticed. It said: “Priceless”.
“This is her gift to me,” she said, tears beginning to drift down her cheeks. “She left Winnie the sketchbook, but this she left to me.”
“She loved you very much,” Ash reminded her.
Bea nodded. “She gave up everything to raise us,” she said. “I’m willing to risk anything to find out who took her away from us.”
The bell above the door jingled, and Bea looked up to see Amanda and Hank, followed closely behind by Winnie, come into the shop. She shoved the picture back into the tote bag, whispering, “Don’t tell them.”
Ash nodded his understanding
“Look who I found,” Amanda announced.
Bea felt a little bit of relief that the man who had once saved them from Richardson was back in the shop.
“Your sister tells me you could use a little help,” Hank said, his southern drawl a balm to her tattered nerves.
“We could,” Bea said.
“Well, don’t you worry,” Hank assured them. “I’ll just sit out front and keep an eye on the place all day long.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Ash said. “I’ve got a job up in Lakewood Ranch, but was worried about leaving them. That’s what I’d come over to talk about.”
“Go,” Winnie urged him with an encouraging smile.
“Go,” Hank said. “I’ll be here for the next day or two…at least until a job I’ve got lined up downtown comes through.”
Ash nodded his thanks, kissed Bea’s cheek, and murmured, “Don’t hesitate to call.” Then he hurried out the door.
Hank turned to follow him.
“You don’t have to sit outside,” Amanda said. “You’ll melt out there.”
Hank glanced around the place that was overflowing with multi-colored items. “Honestly, this is a bit much for me to deal with.”
Winnie let out a chuckle. “I feel the same way.”
Hank tipped his head and strolled back outside. Greta, who was on her way into the shop, stopped to talk to him for a moment.
“Maybe we should tell her she doesn’t have to stay,” Winnie suggested.
Bea nodded her agreement. She really didn’t want to put anyone else in danger.
Greta, a bright smile on her face, strode back in, empty-handed, having forgotten Bea’s request for coffee. “I hear there’s more excitement. Rumor has it Richardson is getting out.”
Bea saw that Amanda scowled, and hurried to engage the store employee in conversation.
“We were thinking,” Bea began. “If you want to take a couple of days off until this blows over, we totally understand.”
Greta froze and blinked. “What?”
“You could stay home for a couple of days,” Winnie interjected.
Greta frowned. “Are you firing me?” She screwed her face up like a toddler about to have a tantrum meltdown.
“No, no,” Bea hurried to assure her. “We were just thinking that you might be worried about your safety, and we didn’t want you to feel obligated to show up here.”
Greta shook her head vehemently. “No. I’m supposed to be here, I’m going to be here.”
Amanda, who stood behind Greta, rolled her eyes. Bea understood her older sister’s disbelief. Greta had a habit of taking off at a moment’s notice, so it was kind of funny that she was insisting on being here while they were trying to get rid of her.
Greta went to the back room and put her purse down.
“I doubt she’ll stay long,” Amanda muttered bitterly.
Bea doubted the employee would give the cash back for her undelivered coffee, but she didn’t mention it, not wanting to further aggravate Amanda.
“Fire her,” Pim urged from his place on the bookshelf.
“For sexual harassment,” Angus suggested.
The input from the toy and ashtray holder made Amanda chuckle, and for a moment there was a respite from the tension. It was to be short-lived.
“Brace yourself,” Bea warned. Winnie and Amanda both turned to see what it was that Bea saw coming through the door.
Peter Perkins, their landlord, and their personal prime suspect in who was responsible for Letty’s murder, entered with a self-satisfied smile on his face.
“Ladies,” he began.
“Mr. Perkins,” Winnie replied with cool professionalism.
Bea appreciated that her middle sister was willing to be their spokesperson. She was practically shaking in her boots at the sight of the man.
“I hear you managed to almost get my property burned down,” Perkins said.
“We didn’t do it,” Winnie told him coolly.
“Well,” Perkins said. “Trouble does seem to follow your family.”
Bea watched as Winnie’s gaze narrowed. She could see from the way she was clenching her hands behind her back that she was on the verge of losing her temper with the smug landlord.
Amanda must have seen it, too, because she physically moved to stand between them. “Was there something you wanted, Mr. Perkins?” Amanda asked. Unlike Winnie, she didn’t bother to try and use a professional voice. Hers dripped with disdain.
Perkins blinked, as though surprised by the level of hostility directed his way.
“I wanted to make sure that you’d handled everything correctly through the insurance company,” he said. “I don’t want any of this coming back as a claim on me.”
“It won’t,” Winnie bit out. “I’ve already talked to my attorney about how to handle it.”
Bea wondered if that was the truth or if she was bluffing.
He didn’t seem to know, either, because he gave her a curious look, trying to figure out what her game was. He pointed at the empty space, where the cookware had been before Suzanne of Killer Cupcakes, Cookies and Coffee had emptied out their stock. “Having trouble keeping inventory?” he asked with mock concern.
“Business is just that good,” Winnie told him with a shake of her head.
Sensing that he wasn’t wanted there, Perkins gave them one last fake smile and left the store.
Bea slumped in her seat. “I hate him.”
“We all do,” Amanda said. “Hopefully, he’ll be arrested soon.”
“Let’s hope so,” Winnie said. “I’m getting really tired of dealing with his unlikeable face.”
The door opened once more, and Bea tensed before seeing Suzanne, holding a platter, bustle in.
“We don’t have any,” Amanda said as soon as the woman crossed the threshold.
Suzanne paused and pursed her red lips. “Don’t have any what?”
“Whatever it is you’re going to ask for,” Amanda said. “We’ve got enough problems of our own, we can’t be spending all of our time and energy solving yours.”
The producer drew her head back as though she’d been slapped. “I know it’s been an imposition,” she said slowly. “I was bringing you a thank you gift.” She held out the platter so that the sisters could see that it was covered in fresh baked cookies.
“What is that smell,” Sandy the picker asked, walking into the shop behind Suzanne. “It’s divine.”
“Cookie?” Suzanne asked, offering the tray to Sandy.
The blonde picker smiled widely and took two. “They’re still warm,” she told the Concordia sisters before biting into her first.
Winnie moved forward and took the tray from Suzanne. “This was very nice of you,” she said. “Ama
nda didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just, there’s a lot going on.”
Suzanne nodded her understanding. “Enjoy. They’re still not the recipe that won the contest at the fair, but they’re pretty good. We’re still trying to figure out what the secret ingredient is, and that SOB won’t tell us.”
“Delicious,” Sandy offered as Suzanne left the shop.
“I’m glad,” she said before disappearing.
“You should really try them,” Sandy told the sisters.
Winnie took one and offered it to Amanda, who shook her head curtly. Winnie bit into it and let out a moan of satisfaction.
She chewed for a moment, then said, “They really are good.”
Convinced, Bea reached for one, too.
“What can we help you with, Sandy,” Bea heard Winnie ask as her hand wrapped around the cookie. Then the room spun.
12
“Bea,” Amanda yelled as Bea dropped to the ground, body rigid and eyes blank.
“Take the cookie away,” she said, trying to get to Bea while being inadvertently blocked by Sandy.
Winnie knocked the cookie out of Bea’s hand.
Finally getting past Sandy, Amanda rushed to help Winnie get Bea back on her feet.
“I’ll get a cup of water,” Greta offered, and sprinted off to the steps to the apartment upstairs.
“Should I call an ambulance?” Sandy asked with concern, her cookies forgotten.
“She’ll be fine,” Amanda told her. Though, truth be told, she was worried about how pale Bea was and how she was trembling.
She seemed to have recovered from her other visions quicker, and Amanda wanted to know what had made this one different.
They led Bea over to the velvet chair by the dressing room and sat her down, figuring there was less of a chance she could fall out of that seat.
“I’m okay,” Bea reassured them. She smiled at Sandy. “It’s been a long day. I just got a little lightheaded.”
Amanda knew that she was lying, and she could tell from Winnie’s expression that she felt the same.
“Was there something that brought you here, Sandy?” Amanda asked, signaling to Winnie that she should be the one to take care of Bea.