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Another Woman's Treasure

Page 11

by J. B. Lynn


  “Well,” Winnie said dryly, “I’m sure its value will have been decreased by it being plunged into someone anyway.”

  “But at least it was clean,” Bea snapped back.

  “Stop it,” Amanda interjected. She understood the tension both her sisters were experiencing, but sniping at one another wasn’t going to help solve anything.

  “So, Richardson was looking in the case, and then what happened,” she asked the toy.

  “He took out the blade. You made some noise upstairs and he froze, and he hurried away from the case,” Pim said. “He moved out of my line of vision so I couldn’t tell exactly where he went.”

  “And his killer,” Amanda urged. “Did you see him?”

  “I didn’t see anything else,” the sheep admitted. “I heard a gasp, and then a thud, and then a few minutes later, you came clattering down the stairs. And then all hell started breaking loose,” the sheep said.

  “I’ll second that,” Amanda told her sisters. “Richardson’s spirit was angry. He was knocking things over everywhere.”

  “And then I got knocked off the shelf,” Pim said. “I was buried under a pile of clothing until the dog came and dug me out.”

  “Good boy, Nutmeg,” Amanda said, even though the dog wasn’t there.

  “Where is he?” Bea asked. “Where’s the dog?”

  Amanda shrugged. “He ran off. I guess now I know that he ran off with Pim in his mouth, but I’m not sure how he got you inside here.”

  “He dashed in when one of the customers had the door open,” Pim explained. “He hid me here in the corner, figuring eventually you would come in and find me.”

  “But where is he?” Winnie asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Amanda frowned and looked outside. It was getting dark out, and the idea of the dog being out there on his own bothered her. “We should go find him,” she said.

  “There’s a killer on the loose out there,” Winnie reminded her.

  “Yeah,” Bea agreed. “Normally, I’d be the first one running out in the dark to find somebody, but it’s too dangerous.”

  Amanda frowned. “I can’t just stay here and do nothing.”

  “We’re not doing nothing,” Winnie reminded her. “We’re trying to figure out what happened.”

  “That’s for the police to figure out,” Amanda said distractedly. She walked over to the window and peered out, hoping to see the little dog. He was nowhere in sight. Her heart squeezed, and she realized that she’d grown quite fond of him.

  “We can’t lose him, too,” she told her sisters.

  She turned around in time to see Bea and Winnie giving each other a worried look.

  A knock on the door startled them all.

  Amanda was closest to it, so she went to answer it.

  Detective Tom Keller stood there, tie loose around his neck, hands in his pants pockets, head hung.

  She opened the door and he smiled as he raised his head. “There you are.”

  “Here I am,” she replied with an answering grin. Figuring the detective was there to see the shop owner, she yelled “Piper!” at the top of her lungs.

  Piper emerged, her apron now covered in stains. “Hey, Tom,” she called casually. “What can I do for you?”

  The detective shook his head. “Actually, I came to see if there was anything I could do for the Concordia sisters.”

  “Can we get back in our shop?” Winnie asked.

  “Yes,” Tom said. “I’ll walk you back there.”

  Amanda stuck Pim in her pocket, and she and Winnie helped Bea to her feet.

  Together, the three of them, Tom trailing behind, led the way back to One Woman’s Junk.

  “You may just want to throw out the rug,” Tom said as they reached the door.

  Amanda glanced back at him. “What?”

  “Most of the blood, it soaked into the rug.”

  Winnie made a retching sound and covered her mouth.

  Amanda patted her shoulder reassuringly while Bea rolled her eyes. Their sister had always been freaked out by blood.

  “Is it bad? Is it really awful?” Winnie asked weakly.

  “It’s pretty bad,” Tom admitted.

  “Isn’t it evidence?” Bea asked. “Won’t we be tampering with evidence?”

  “The crime scene techs took everything they needed,” Tom assured them. “I can help you get rid of it if you want.”

  “That’s okay,” Amanda began. “We—”

  “Yes, Detective,” Winnie interrupted sharply. “We would appreciate your help getting rid of it very much.”

  Amanda shot her a questioning look and Winnie muttered under her breath, “Bea’s in no shape to help and we all know I’ll be useless. We can use all the help we can get.”

  They went inside the shop, which still looked like a disaster zone.

  “Oh my goodness,” Winnie moaned. It was the first time she had seen the destruction.

  “It’ll take us forever to get everything back together,” Bea said.

  “Nonsense,” Amanda told her. “Remember what Letty used to say about jobs that seemed impossible?”

  “You don’t know something is truly impossible until you’ve at least given it a try,” Bea parroted.

  “I’ll help you get started,” Tom said. “If you’ve got some cleaning gloves, rubber gloves, we’ll roll this up and put it in the dumpster.”

  Winnie ran up the stairs to the apartment and returned with dishwashing gloves moments later.

  “There’s only one pair,” she said.

  “No problem,” he said. “I have my own.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on.

  Amanda took the dish gloves from Winnie, pulled them on, and she and the detective made quick work of rolling up the rug.

  “We’ll take this outside,” Tom told Winnie and Bea, who were huddled in the dressing room area, where Winnie was hyperventilating into a paper bag and Bea was coaching her to breathe.

  “And while we are out there, we’re going to look for the dog,” Amanda announced.

  Before her sisters could protest, she said, “Call Ash. His lights are on. I’m sure he’ll come right over.”

  Nodding, Bea reached for her phone.

  Winnie held the back door open while Amanda and Tom maneuvered the blood-soaked rug outside. The dumpster behind the building in the alley wasn’t too far away, they managed to deposit the rug inside.

  “Do you think the killer came in through the back door?” Amanda asked, hoping to plant the idea in the detective’s head.

  “Probably.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief to herself that it was a possibility he was already considering. “Do you have any suspects?”

  Tom’s face was neutral, his expression giving away nothing. “It’s early,” he said.

  His answer was so noncommittal that Amanda fought the urge to shake him to get the answers she was looking for.

  Instead, she turned around and called, “Nutmeg! Nutmeg, come,” she pleaded.

  The little dog did not appear.

  “He’s gone,” she told Tom, tears pricking the back of her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they escaped.

  Before she could even be embarrassed, Tom stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers as he removed his latex gloves and tossed them into the dumpster and took her face in his hands.

  27

  Amanda’s breath caught in her throat.

  “You’re not staying here tonight,” Tom said, staring deeply into her eyes.

  “I’m not abandoning my home because there’s some lunatic out there,” she told him.

  “That’s a very good reason for someone to abandon their home,” Tom countered. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she told him.

  He didn’t verbally reply, instead, he slowly, so slowly, lowered his lips to brush against hers. It was barely a kiss, but Amanda’s body leaned in, wa
nting more. He pulled back and dropped his hands from her face.

  “If you’re not leaving, I’m staying on your cot,” he informed her gruffly.

  “You don’t have—”

  He moved in for another kiss, this one slightly longer, slightly firmer, and very effective at getting her to shut up.

  “Do you have to argue with me about every single thing?” he asked when he broke away.

  She shook her head mutely.

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll stay. I have to run out and do one thing, so Ash will stay with the three of you until I get back.”

  Amanda nodded, her lips still tingling from the kiss and her mind reeling from the surprise that he’d actually laid one on a murder suspect. That had to go against his professional ethics or something.

  Tom grabbed her hand and physically pulled her back into the shop.

  When they entered the shop, Bea was snuggled up against Ash.

  “The rug is gone?” Winnie asked.

  “Yes,” Tom answered when Amanda seemed unable to.

  He made eye contact with Ash and made the request. “I’m going to stay here tonight on the cot. Can you just wait here until I get back?”

  Ash nodded. “Of course.”

  “Where’s Rena?” Tom asked.

  “She’s already at my place,” Ash told him.

  “I don’t want her to be alone, either,” Tom said. “I’ll bring her over before I go.”

  “What about Piper?” Winnie asked. “She’s alone in her place.”

  Tom nodded. “Piper doesn’t stay at the apartment in her place, she goes home, but I’ll make sure she got out of there okay.”

  With that, he glanced at Amanda once more and ordered sternly, “Do not go anywhere.”

  With that, he walked out of the store, the bell jangling above it. Amanda glanced at her sisters then looked pointedly at Angus. One of them had to ask if he’d seen anything. But they couldn’t do that with Ash around, and it wasn’t going to get any easier when Tom returned.

  Winnie took the hint and turned to Ash. “Can you help me get this rack turned upright again?” she asked.

  The carpenter nodded and stepped away from Bea. “Of course.”

  While they fussed with the clothing rack, Amanda and Bea hurried over to Angus, who was standing just inside the door.

  “Did you see anything?” Bea asked.

  “Did you see who the killer was?” Amanda asked.

  The Loch Ness monster’s expression did not move, and he spoke like a ventriloquist. “I can’t turn my head,” he said, repeating the complaint of Pim, “I was facing the wrong way.”

  “Okay,” Amanda said dejectedly.

  “The dog saw something,” Angus said.

  “Are you sure?” Amanda asked.

  “He was growling up a storm,” Angus said.

  “Great,” Bea muttered. “And he’s the only one who can’t talk to us.”

  Realizing the best use of her time would be to help Winnie and Ash get the store straightened, she said to Bea, “You go through the case and see if anything is missing.”

  “You mean, besides the dagger,” Bea said sarcastically.

  “Yeah, besides that,” Amanda said.

  She opened the door to allow Rena inside and watched as Tom hurried out to his car.

  By the time Tom Keller arrived back an hour later, the store, due to the efforts of all five of them, sort of looked like it was back to normal. Winnie was brushing up some broken pieces of glass into a dustpan when he knocked on the door.

  She let out a startled yelp before recognizing him.

  “I’ve got it,” Amanda said. She hurried to the door and ushered the detective inside.

  “It’s looking better,” he commented.

  “We might not be able to open tomorrow,” Bea said. “But the next day for sure.”

  “I bet it brings all kinds of weird people in,” Winnie complained.

  “But think of how excited Greta will be,” Bea mocked.

  “I am not working the floor,” their middle sister threatened.

  Amanda chuckled, knowing how much Winnie did not enjoy working with the public.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You can go work upstairs.”

  “That’s an excellent suggestion,” Winnie said. “In fact, that’s what I’m going to do right now. Thank you everyone.”

  With that, she hurried upstairs to the apartment.

  Ash, Bea, and Rena left soon after to go back to his place, leaving Amanda and Tom alone in the shop.

  “If you tell me what to do, I’ll help, too,” the detective offered.

  She shook her head. “It’s been a long day. I don’t think that either one of us need to do this now.”

  “Okay,” Tom said. “If you want to go upstairs with your sister… I’m sure I can find the cot and get it set up.”

  She shook her head.

  “Is Jacob Gold really a suspect in the killing?” she asked.

  Tom glanced at her, surprised. “Where did you hear that?”

  “One of my sisters told me.”

  Tom shrugged. “He’d have motive. I mean, Richardson did burn down his father’s shop, and it’s assumed that he’s the one that beat up Bruce.”

  Amanda nodded slowly. “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I’m not,” he admitted. “Everything about this case has been more complicated than it first appeared since it began.”

  “And when was that?” she asked.

  “When your godmother was murdered.”

  “So, if we solve that, we can solve everything else?” she asked.

  Tom sat down on the velvet chair between the dressing rooms and leaned his head into his hands. “I hope so.”

  Amanda did, too. It was time to give him everything they knew.

  28

  “Stay here,” Amanda said to Tom. “I’ll be right back; I have to get something to show you.”

  He nodded, and she could feel his eyes following her as she ran up the stairs.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rupert asked, appearing at the top of the staircase.

  Amanda nodded, hurrying over to the kitchenette to retrieve the book.

  “What’s going on?” Winnie asked worriedly, rolling over in bed so that she could face her.

  “Nothing,” Amanda said. “Go back to sleep. I just need to get the cookbook.”

  Winnie sat up. “Why?”

  “I’m going to show it to Tom.”

  Winnie stared at her, wide eyed, for a long moment, and Amanda braced herself for her to protest, too. Finally, Winnie just sighed and said, “Maybe he can make sense of it.” She lowered herself back onto the bed and pulled the sheets up over her face.

  Amanda grabbed the cookbook, tucked it under her arm, snagged one of the copies of Winnie’s treasure map, and hurried back downstairs, with Rupert leading the way.

  Tom watched her curiously.

  “We found this,” she began, carrying the cookbook toward Tom. “We’re not sure why Letty had it.”

  Tom glanced at the title and said, “Maybe she was going to cook something?”

  Shaking her head, Amanda moved so she was side by side next to Tom, and flipped the cover open to reveal the cash.

  “Wow,” the detective said.

  “Wow?” Rupert mocked. “That’s his professional observation?”

  Ignoring him, Amanda kept her attention focused on the man beside her.

  “Like I said, we don’t know why she had it.”

  “Is this why you were looking for the journal under the mattress?” Tom asked. “Were you thinking you’d find more cash?”

  Amanda shook her head. “No,” she said.

  “Go ahead,” Rupert urged from his place standing near the bookshelf. “Tell him I told you to look there.”

  Amanda frowned at him.

  Noticing her expression, Tom asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “How open-minded are you?” Amanda asked.
/>   “Open-minded enough to believe that Letty did not have this cash lying around for any nefarious reasons,” Tom said slowly.

  Amanda closed the book, put it down on the counter, then sat down on the cot. With a fortifying breath, she looked up at him.

  “How do you feel about the stuff Harmony believes in?”

  His arms crossed over his chest, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Amanda swallowed hard, wondering if she was making a mistake trusting him with her secret. She knew that it sounded crazy, but circumstances had grown increasingly more dire. She didn’t see she had another choice. If he thought that she was crazy, then so be it.

  “I don’t know where to start,” she began slowly.

  Tom tapped his foot impatiently. “Look,” he said. “I’m more willing to listen than most guys, I guess. People have their religious faith, athletes have their lucky socks, and Harmony believes what she believes. But I don’t see what any of that has to do with this case. Right now, Jacob Gold is a suspect in Richardson’s killing, Hank isn’t off the hook because nobody understands why he disappeared when he was supposed to be guarding the door, and the only fingerprints found on the murder weapon…” He paused dramatically.

  Amanda waited expectantly.

  “Are Winnie’s,” he said with a quiet sigh.

  As though delivering that bit of news had exhausted him, he sat down on the cot next to her.

  Their shoulders touched.

  “It wasn’t Winnie,” Amanda said with conviction. “She just cleaned it.”

  Her sister had a bunch of faults, being a murderer wasn’t one of them.

  “I know,” Tom said tiredly. “Besides, she’s squeamish around blood. I thought she was going to pass out before.”

  “Otherwise, you would have considered her to be a suspect?”

  “Well, that’s what the evidence says.” Tom said. “But my gut says something different. I don’t think it was Gold or Hank.”

  “So, you believe in intuition?” Amanda said excitedly.

  “I think all cops do,” Tom said. “I mean, we build our cases using evidence, but sometimes you can’t quite explain how you figured out how to find the evidence.”

 

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