Dagger in the Dahlias

by Dale Mayer

  “Thaddeus,” she warned, “don’t you dare …” With an odd snorting sound Thaddeus ruffled his feathers and shot her an injured look. She kept a wary eye on him as she turned her attention back to Scott.

  He admired the vanity. “You are truly blessed.”

  “And I didn’t even know what I had,” Doreen said with a smile.

  “You don’t appear to have the two other dressers.”

  “A dresser is in the back of the closet,” she said. “I can’t reach it.”

  Scott eyed the closet, almost rubbing his hands together, and said, “It would be really good if we could see it.”

  She pulled open the closet doors so he could see what a nightmare it was inside. Even as the doors opened it was the push of the stuffed clothing inside being released that slammed the doors wide open. All they could see was the hangers full of garments.

  Scott gasped, then chuckled. “Your grandmother is a clothes horse.”

  “Obviously.” Doreen pushed back some of the hanging items so he could see in the back of the closet. “There’s the dresser. It’s short though.”

  He burrowed in with her. “We need to pull it out,” he said in excitement.

  It was very hard to do, but inch by inch, they cleared a path and moved the dresser forward. When it was finally standing free of the clutter of the closet, Doreen realized it looked to be part of the same set.

  “That tells you how these pieces have been treated,” she said with a shake of her head. “Instead of being prized possessions, this one was shoved in the closet for extra storage.”

  Scott busily examined it.

  “Do we know for sure this dresser is part of the set?” she asked, waiting with bated breath to hear his answer.

  He gave her a shout of joy and said, “Come look for yourself.”

  She bent behind him to see him gently stroking his fingers over the mark. “It really is, isn’t it?”

  “It is the short boy, indeed.” He smiled. “This has been one of the best days of my life. Now are you sure you’re ready to let all these pieces go?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Can we take another look around and see if you have the missing tallboy?”

  “What exactly is a tallboy?” Doreen asked, when he straightened again.

  He pointed to his chest. “It’s about this high and is a narrow, tall chest, usually for the man.”

  “So this would be the woman’s dresser?” She pointed at the dresser that had been pulled from the back of the closet. A dresser Thaddeus had now claimed as he paced the top. At least he was leaving the chocolates alone.

  He nodded. “Yes. And it makes sense that it would be with the vanity and the bed. But I don’t see any sign of the tallboy. If you did have it, it would be a huge asset. And, if you are truly ready to sell these, I will arrange for shipment.”

  “You’ll give me receipts for them all, right?” she asked hesitantly.

  He chuckled. “Absolutely. There’ll be lots of paperwork to document this transaction.”

  Feeling relieved, she grabbed a couple empty boxes from the spare room and emptied the drawers of the short boy dresser from the closet.

  “You don’t even want to check what’s in there?” he asked from behind her.

  “I will go through it all,” she said, “but obviously we don’t have time right now.” The whole top drawer looked to be scarves and accessories. The second drawer appeared to be stockings. She held up a pair.

  “Those are silk,” the appraiser said, “a quite beautiful silk.”

  She shook her head. “My grandmother had very expensive tastes apparently.” She picked up several more items, placed them all in a box, and, by the time she got to the bottom drawer, out came a huge accordion file full of paperwork. At that, she got excited. “Maybe this is it.”

  Scott was at her side. “Maybe it’s what?”

  “The folder with the provenance,” she said. “It’ll take a while to go through it all. It’s bursting at its seams.” She motioned to the dresser. “Can you take a look and make sure absolutely nothing else is in there?”

  “Let’s take out every drawer,” he said, “because, yes, two secret drawers should be in this dresser as well.”

  With all four drawers out, they could see several items had been caught in the back. With those collected, Scott pressed similar buttons as on the vanity, opening the two secret dresser drawers. One had a pair of cuff links inside. Thaddeus stretched his neck to see them. The other two animals were stretched out on the bed ignoring the two of them.

  She looked at them in amazement.

  “They look valuable,” he said. “I’m not an expert on gems though.”

  She admired the red stones. “Garnets or rubies?”

  “Definitely rubies,” he said with a smile.

  She shook her head and put them inside the same little velvet envelope the locket was in.

  In the other secret drawer was a picture. She flipped it over and back again. “Now this is Nan as a little girl.” She looked at it and smiled, holding it out to him. “On the back is Nan’s real name, Willa Montgomery. I am loving these little secret drawers,” she said.

  Scott looked around the bedroom and asked, “Is there any chance you can sleep somewhere else tonight? We’ve made a hell of a mess in your room.”

  “I can sleep in the spare bedroom,” she said.

  He looked at the big closet. “I’m sorry, but do you mind if I dig around to make sure more isn’t there?”

  “Be my guest,” she said. “I do know there are shelves in the back too. I don’t know why Nan would put the hanging clothes in front of the shelves.”

  “I think, once you get this cleared out, you’ll find a space in between the two hanging portions to walk through. It’s an adaptation of a walk-in closet.”

  “It’s chaos,” Doreen said, chuckling.

  His grin flashed. “It is, at that.”

  Just then she heard the postal worker open the mail slot in her front door. Mugs barked like a madman and tore out of the room. Goliath followed and on his heels, Thaddeus flew off the dresser and soared through the hallway to land out of sight. She sighed. “I have to go downstairs and salvage the mail. My dog has decided it’s something he should defend me from.”

  “Oh, dear,” he said. “Go, go, go.”

  She dashed downstairs to the front door, and there was Mugs with a letter in his mouth. As he went past Goliath, the cat swatted him on the face. Mugs growled and dropped the letter. Thaddeus raced between the two, snagged the letter, and ran into the kitchen.

  Doreen raised both hands in frustration. “What’s gotten into you guys? Stop it.” She cornered Thaddeus, who was still dragging the envelope along as he hopped onto the kitchen table. She took it from his beak and held it up high. “Stop! It’s my letter, not yours.”

  At the commotion the appraiser had come down to see if she was okay. He entered the kitchen and smiled. “It is truly amazing that you live in this wonderfully chaotic household.”

  “Just not so good for the antiques,” she said with an eye roll.

  He chuckled.

  She opened the letter-size envelope. “Interesting. There’s no return address, and there’s no stamp.”

  “Somebody dropped it into your mail slot directly then,” he said.

  She nodded and opened it, finding a single sheet of paper. “Dear Bone Lady. Uh-oh,” she whispered.

  I see that you’re very interested in cold cases, and you have such great talent in solving them. Even ones from twenty-nine years ago. That’s why I’m contacting you. I wondered if you could help me with my personal cold case. My brother-in-law disappeared twenty-nine years ago in August and has never been heard from since. I know I don’t have any right to ask, but, if you’re interested in a mystery, please call me. I do have some evidence, a dagger of Johnny’s that I found buried at the spot where he was last seen. I found it some time ago when I went to plant a new bed of dahlias, but I don’t
know if it’s enough to even start your investigation. I’m hopeful. Please call me.

  After that plea was a phone number; the letter was signed by Penny Jordan.

  Doreen stared at it in surprise. “Well, how about this? It looks like we have our next mystery to solve. Dagger in the dahlias!”

  That sounded perfect.

  Chapter 2

  Wednesday Late Morning …

  Doreen walked Scott Rosten to her front door. As soon as she opened the door and Scott stepped out, Mugs took the opportunity to slip outside too. He headed for the grassy front lawn and started to roll. She smiled at his antics but turned her attention back to Scott.

  “Don’t forget now,” he said. “I’ll bring in the crew early next week so they can pack this up properly. I’ll update you with a better time frame when I know.”

  She nodded but couldn’t help thinking how it was a little too late to be concerned about packing up this furniture properly, when all of these pieces had been so well used for decades. “The sooner, the better. I’m afraid to use anything now,” she confessed.

  He smiled at her. “Obviously we don’t want anything destroyed or broken in the meantime, but we also have to consider these have been gently used over the years. There will be some wear. Yes, that’ll depreciate the value, but they’re special pieces, and you’ve been very blessed to have them, so enjoy spending time with them while you can.” He stopped hesitated, his gaze searching the living room. “Did you have any luck finding the tallboy?”

  “Not yet, sorry,” she said regretfully. “But I’ll keep looking. I assume the packing will take a little time.”

  “Yes, possibly, but these men are professionals.” He gave a shrug, almost philosophically, and a gentle laugh. “Just don’t damage them in the meantime, okay?”

  She gave him a bright smile. “I’ll cover them in Bubble Wrap from now until then.”

  “It’s the end of an era,” he said. “And the good thing is, as an era ends with you, it opens for somebody else, so don’t feel bad. The antique world will be absolutely delighted with your decision to part with these.”

  As soon as he left her driveway, easily maneuvering through the press, which thankfully had reduced to just one camera crew, she called Mugs back into the house and closed the door. Her fingers instinctively went to her pocket to the strange letter she’d received. She’d been so busy that she hadn’t read it a second time, and it worried away in the back of her mind.

  Her life had gone off the rails but in a good way. All yesterday afternoon and today, she had been smiling a happy smile. She’d survived an ugly attack from Cecily, found the little boy who had been missing for almost three decades. And Doreen had cleared the handyman’s name of all kinds of accusations that must have hurt everybody who had loved him. However, his wife had passed away before that mystery had been solved, but at least the rest of his family now knew that he hadn’t been trying to hurt the little boy nor had he attempted to start a whole new life with him. Instead they’d both drowned due to the record flooding that particular year. Definitely an unfortunate and sad event, but an accident nonetheless.

  Yesterday, as Doreen had walked home, the Kelowna Detachment Police Commander had seen her on the streets. He’d pulled over, hopped out, and came to shake her hand. She’d been touched.

  “We need people like you,” he’d said with an expansive smile.

  She’d chuckled. “I’m not sure Mack agrees with you.”

  The commander’s eyes had twinkled like Christmas bells in the sunlight; then his voice had deepened as he said, “Oh, I’m pretty sure Mack is happy with the scenario too.”

  All in all, it had been a very special event and apparently had touched a nerve for someone else, if the letter in her pocket was anything to go by. No return address was on the envelope, no stamp on it, just a plea for help inside. Doreen wanted to help. She would absolutely love to help, but beginner’s luck wouldn’t hold her in good stead all the time.

  She took out the letter once again to reread the details. They were sketchy, but that plea for help tore at her heart. And the woman said she’d found a dagger at the root of the dahlias in the same garden where she’d last seen her brother-in-law.

  The problem was, the dagger had been out in the weather for so long before being found. Doreen highly doubted any forensic evidence remained on it at this point. Yet, as she already knew, DNA could last forever, and maybe some would be in the joints where the knife handle met the steel? But that didn’t mean she could convince anybody to test the dagger. Particularly Mack.

  She had to admit she was getting cold-case fever. How sad was that? But the puzzles fascinated her.

  Who would have known Kelowna was such a den of evildoings? It almost made her smile, but, of course, there was nothing funny about that. Still, she was closing cases rapidly. She loved what she was doing. But how long could her winning streak go?

  “This has turned into a full-time hobby,” she muttered.

  She folded the letter again and shoved it deep into her pocket. She wandered into the kitchen, where Goliath was stretched out on top of the kitchen table.

  “Goliath, what are you doing?” she asked. “Get off the table. We’ve had this discussion before.”

  He looked at her, flicked his tail, and slid, as if boneless, to the nearest chair at this table, where he curled up. But he made it so slow and so of his own prerogative that she knew it was a case of I’m doing this because I want to and not because you told me to.

  “Who knew looking after a cat would be so much trouble?” she asked out loud. “Who knew looking after a cat …” She stopped, smiled, and added, “… would be such a heartwarming experience?” She leaned over and scratched Goliath behind his ears, loving the soft silkiness to his fur.

  As soon as she pulled away her hand, he swatted her, his claws lightly digging in to pull her hand back down.

  She chuckled, squatted in front of him, and said, “You’re totally okay with your new life, aren’t you, buddy?”

  He didn’t have to answer. As he rolled onto his back, giving her his belly, and then stretched forward and backward, making him look even more monstrous in size, it was obvious he was a happy cat. If she’d done nothing else, she’d given him and Thaddeus a good life.

  And speaking of Thaddeus, where was he? Because, wherever he was, trouble was sure to follow. There was just something about that bird.

  She walked back into the living room. “Thaddeus? Where are you, buddy?”

  But she got no answer.

  She walked through the lower part of the house, then headed up the stairs.

  “I know you were here earlier because, when the auction house guy was here, you were all over him. Now where are you? … Oh, that’s right. I last saw Thaddeus stealing off with the letter …”

  When she saw no sign of him here in her bedroom, she went back down the stairs and, on a hunch, opened the front door. Maybe he followed Scott outside. “Thaddeus,” she yelled. “Thaddeus?”

  And, sure enough, he hopped out from underneath the bushes and looked up at her.

  “What are you doing out there?” she said, walking to him and bending down to scoop him into her arms. “You have to stay close.”

  “Stay close. Stay close.”

  “Yes, Thaddeus, stay close. Now repeat after me, Thaddeus, stay close. Stay close.”

  He stared up at her and never said a word.

  She groaned. “I don’t get it. You say what you want, when you want, but you won’t be trained to say what I want you to say.”

  “Stay close. Stay close,” he muttered. He reached up as tall as he could and brushed his head against her cheek.

  Her heart melted yet again. “Okay. You guys have so enriched my family,” she muttered, closing her eyes and cuddling him close. She walked back into the kitchen, carrying Thaddeus. “But honestly, it’s time for a cup of tea.”

  “Thaddeus likes tea. Thaddeus likes tea.”

  “I know,�
� Doreen said. Sadly she did know because he had a habit of drinking from her teacup. “Maybe I’ll make you a little bit in a bowl. How’s that?” Although she should probably look up on the internet if tea was good for him. And then she laughed. “Of course it’s not good for him. He already flies around the place like he’s loopy. It’ll probably just make him fly faster. Or crash into things more often.”

  Then Thaddeus didn’t fly well to begin with.

  She sat him on the kitchen table, only to have Goliath shoot her a dirty look. Right. Different rules for different animals. “Look, Goliath. You’re too big for the table. Thaddeus is just the right size.”

  Just then Mugs reached up with his front paws, looked at Goliath on the chair, and she realized Mugs wasn’t allowed on the chairs.

  “See?” she told Goliath, pointing at Mugs. “Everybody has their own rules,” she confirmed, hoping that would end the discussion.

  Instead Thaddeus looked at her and said, “Thaddeus is hungry. Thaddeus is hungry.”

  She groaned, picked up a bowl she kept with a lid on it, like a sugar bowl, pulled out a pinch of sesame seeds and put them down in front of the bird. He went to work.

  Goliath jumped up, stuck his nose into the seeds, and sniffed, sending seeds flying, then backed away, shooting Doreen another look, followed by a plaintive meow.

  She groaned, picked up the cat treat bag, and gave him two. “Remember how you’re on a diet?”

  Mugs woofed at her feet.

  With no other option but to make it fair, she picked up the dog treats and gave him some. “You’re on a diet too,” she admonished.

  With all three of her animals happy with their midmorning snack, she plugged in the teakettle and waited for it to boil. In the meantime, she looked at the letter again. “You know what? To go down this path, Doreen, you’re likely to end up a failure. If the police haven’t solved it in all this time … But then that doesn’t really mean anything either, does it?” she said, immediately countering her argument. “Because they do their best. But they have a lot of active cases, and they’re short on man-hours. They don’t get to sit here with a cup of tea and meander through the cold-case files, one at a time.”