“Yeah. I can’t imagine not having that hope.” When my husband, Kev, passed away in a car accident six years ago, my faith in God and His promise of eternal life were the rocks I clung to as I slowly worked through my grief. Kevin and I hadn’t had the greatest marriage, but still, I had cared about him. The sheer force of the sorrow had sometimes threatened to overwhelm me.
I dribbled some half and half into my tea, thanking God for the peace He’d given me since those terrible days. My journey had been long and slow, but I had made it through.
“Thanks for bringing the mail over again.” I set my mug down and picked up the pile she had brought me. Shuffling through the damp envelopes, I trashed all of them except the water bill and a postcard that had seen better days. The picture on the front looked like an ad for a feed store or something. I flipped the postcard over and glanced at it. “I think Sylvia gave me someone else’s mail.”
“That wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.” Mona sipped her tea. “She’s a weird lady.”
“I didn’t mean she gave it to me on purpose. I’ve only met her once, but she seemed pretty normal.”
“Someone needs to help her with her hair. Those tight gray curls make her look older than I bet she is. And the huge glasses. Yeesh.”
I hadn’t noticed Sylvia’s hair. I squinted at the address on the postcard. 204 N. Ivy Street, Short Creek, Texas. Ivy Street was about a block from here, but I didn’t recognize the name of the person to whom the card was addressed. “Do you know of anyone named Marianne Janosic?”
Mona laughed. “The Janosics? Haven’t thought of them in a long time.”
“Who are they?” I perched on one of my high stools and pulled my tea mug toward me as Annie settled with a sigh on the floor behind me. Mona was in her fifties and had lived in Short Creek her whole life. She knew everything about everybody.
“You haven’t heard that story yet, Nancy?”
I snickered. My friends had started calling me Nancy, as in “Nancy Drew,” last year when I helped solve a local mystery surrounding a body found right here on the back doorstep of C. Willikers. “Nope. I’ve never even heard the name until today. Is it something I want to know, Bess?”
“They were kind of odd people, bless their hearts.” She glanced around my cozy store. “They owned this building like, I don’t know…twenty years ago?”
“The people who owned my building twenty years ago still live around here? In Short Creek? I didn’t know that.”
“No. They did live here. Over on Ivy Street, I think. But no one’s seen them in a long time.”
“What, like they’re recluses or something? That’s weird.” I frowned.
“You haven’t heard weird yet, girlfriend.” She fingered her earring, a huge rhinestone-studded cross. “They ran a dry-cleaning business out of this building for years. They were around my age, but they had two little kids. A girl and a boy, I believe. I saw them around town every so often. Then one day, they just—poof—disappeared.” She grinned at me.
“Disappeared?”
“Yep. Gone. The business was locked up. Never re-opened.”
I frowned. “What about their house?”
“That was the strangest thing. When the sheriff finally checked out their house, everything was still there. Like they had gone on vacation.”
“They took off without telling anyone, and never came back?”
She shrugged. “No one knows. For a while, the sheriff’s office got all kinds of reports of people saying that they had seen them here or there. Lord have mercy, you never saw such a mess.”
“And nothing was ever solved?”
“Not that I know of.”
And if Mona didn’t know, who would?
“What happened to their house and all of their stuff?”
She shrugged. “The bank finally repossessed it, I think. Seems like maybe there was an estate sale or something, but they didn’t have much to begin with. I think the dry cleaners was kinda struggling.”
“Wow.” I picked up the postcard again and examined it closer. “Oh my goodness. This postcard was mailed like two months ago.”
“Let me see.” She scooted closer, pulling her favorite purple reading glasses off her head.
I breathed in the musky scent of her perfume and sneezed. And sneezed.
“Bless you. That cedar pollen is still thick this week, isn’t it?” She peered up at me over the tops of her glasses. “Could it have been lost in the mail for a couple of months? I mean, I know the U.S. Postal service can be slow, but that’s ridiculous. And it’s all scuffed like it was stuck in a machine.”
“Or got run over by a truck.”
“And it doesn’t say who it’s from. All it says is ‘Marianne, I want you to know that I found…something.’” She squinted at it. “I can’t read that last word. Ponies? Peaches? And there’s some little squiggle underneath that looks like it could be a ‘P’. Or maybe an ‘R’.” She handed it back to me. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Despite my desire to never be involved in anything remotely close to a mystery again, I had to admit that my curiosity was piqued. “I don’t know, but I’m suddenly feeling more and more like Nancy. We could call this one The Mystery of the Peculiar Postcard.”
“Or, The Vanishing Dry Cleaners of Short Creek.”
“Ha.” Her phone dinged, and I waited as she pulled it out of her purse. “So, you knew the Janosics?”
“Rob says he’s gonna be home in a few hours. He’s in Louisiana.” Mona’s husband, Rob, was an over-the-road trucker and was often gone for weeks at a time. Her nails clicked against the phone screen as she typed a text. “No, I didn’t really know them. I dropped off my dry cleaning there a time or two. Usually I went to the dry cleaners in Temple. It was cheaper.”
“Why would they leave?”
Mona shrugged. “There were rumors, but no one really knows if any of them were true.”
“Like what?”
“For starters, they disappeared about the same time as the robberies.”
I raised my eyebrows as I took a swallow of tea.
“Several homes in Short Creek were robbed big time, and then a big jewelry store in Temple was cleaned out during the middle of one night. It was all over the news for weeks, but no one was ever caught. Folks said it was probably Jim. Or Jimmy, as Marianne always called him.” She rolled her eyes.
“Was there reason to suspect him? I mean, why would people say that?”
Mona pulled a knitting needle out of my basket of yarn and twirled it around between her fingers. “I don’t really remember all of the details. But I know that the Janosics had left town before or shortly after the story hit the media.”
I frowned and rearranged the fluffy pink skeins. The yarn was angora and silk, and I couldn’t wait to start a project with the lovely stuff. “That doesn’t mean that he—”
The front door opened, and Sharlene slipped through. A slim young woman in her twenties, Sharlene always had a sad look in her large blue eyes. They stood out in her gaunt face, and her white-blond hair was pulled back in a thin ponytail. I didn’t know her very well, since she was new in town, but I did know that she had been working for Sister Erma and—oh, dear.
Chapter Three
“Sharlene. Are you okay?” I slid off my stool and reached her the same time Annie did.
Sharlene’s eyes were rimmed with red, and the hand she held out to Annie was shaking. She didn’t look at me, but instead focused on Annie, who was rubbing her head on Sharlene’s leg. “You heard?”
“About Sister Erma?” I asked.
Mona brushed past me to envelop Sharlene in a hug, while I, as usual, stood rigid as a statue.
Sharlene pulled back after a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her gaze including both of us. “I know y’all go to the same church with her.”
I was sorry, too. “Karen will miss her terribly. And Aunt Dot.”
“Were you there? I mean, when it happened?” Mona aske
d the question I hadn’t wanted to ask.
Sharlene’s eyes filled with tears. “I wish I had been. Maybe she’d still be alive. But I don’t usually get there in the morning until nine or so. Miz Erma likes her mornings to herself.” She twisted her fingers together, and I noticed that her fingernails were chewed down to the quick. “I—I didn’t find out anything until I got there this morning, and she was already gone.”
Annie placed a large paw on Sharlene’s thigh and whined. I had never known a dog so cued in to the emotions of humans.
“She’s trying to comfort you,” I said.
Sharlene bent down to let Annie snuffle her ear and her nose. Annie got in a quick lick on her mouth before Sharlene pushed her away with a shaky laugh.
“That’s enough, Annie.” I motioned for the dog to return to me.
Sharlene glanced at my face, then ducked her head. “I know this probably isn’t a good time to ask you this, but I was wondering if you—”
The door whooshed open again, letting in a blast of cold air and a well-dressed, sixty-something year-old couple. With her perfectly-coiffed hair and haughty demeanor, the woman reminded me of every meddlesome, uppity character from every novel I had ever read, all rolled into one. Her balding, overweight husband shuffled along behind her as if he’d like to be anywhere else than with her. He dried his rain-spattered glasses with a tissue and gave me a wan smile that briefly creased his round cheeks. He was a beardless, forlorn Santa.
“Hello, may I help you?” I smiled my best impersonal smile and held on to Annie’s collar. She didn’t seem to care for the couple any more than I did. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sharlene edging toward the door.
“I heard you had antiques in here.” The woman shook her umbrella, scattering water all over the hardwood floor.
“No, ma’am,” I said. “Unless you’re looking for old books. I do have a shelf of some fairly rare copies of—”
“No. No books.” Her lip curled.
The way she said it made me dislike her even more. Who didn’t love books? “I’m sorry. No antiques. Only flowers, plants, yarn, and books.”
“And tea. Would y’all like some tea?” Mona bustled up behind me, carrying the little electric teapot. What in the world?
The woman backed away. “No. I don’t drink hot tea.” She pulled a business card out of her handbag and slapped it on the counter. “But if anyone ever brings in any antiques, I want to be the first to hear about it.”
I did not roll my eyes, though I really, really wanted to. Hadn’t I already told her that I didn’t carry antiques? “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for stopping in.”
She turned heel and headed out the door, her husband trailing behind. Annie relaxed her guard-dog stance.
“What was all of that about tea?” I asked Mona.
She laughed. “Don’t you know who that was?”
“Nope. Should I?” I picked up the woman’s card and peered at it. “June Blackman, Realtor? Who’s she?”
“The Blackmans are one of the richest couples in town. Or at least they used to be.” Mona—a head shorter than me—pulled the card down to inspect it. “A realtor? I don’t know why she’s even working. They own about half the property in Short Creek.”
Hmm. Blackman. Ah, I got it. “The park is named after them.”
She nodded, making her earrings jingle. “And the walking trail. And the bank. And the Methodist church’s fellowship hall, blah, blah, blah.”
“Why?” I pulled a roll of paper towels out from under my counter, intending to wipe up the water that Mrs. Persnickety had so rudely left on my floor.
“Who knows? Maybe they have a thing about seeing their name on everything. He was a successful rancher or veterinarian or something.”
A rancher and a veterinarian are pretty different. I sighed. “Was? He seems pretty young to be retired.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, then grinned. “But I know she hates hot tea. Once she made a huge hullaballoo over it at the farewell party for the Baptist church’s minister’s wife because they only had hot tea and no coffee. She carried on and on about it.”
“So you offered her some tea…” I shook my head.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“I suppose. But what Texan doesn’t like tea?”
“Texans like cold sweet tea, darlin’. Northerners like you drink hot tea.”
I bent down to blot up the water, and Purl waddled over to see what I was doing. I fingered her velvety black ears before I stood. “Where did Sharlene go? She was asking me a question, then she disappeared.”
“Maybe she doesn’t like Mrs. High and Mighty any more than anyone else does.”
“Hmm. Whatever. I hope I’ll see her at church Wednesday night. Did I tell you Erma’s been bringing her to Bible study the last couple of weeks?”
“Sharlene?” Mona tapped her fingers on the counter. “I’m glad to hear that. She seems lonely. And Erma says the poor girl has next to nothing.”
I remembered what it had felt like to be the new person in town. I should try harder to make her feel welcome. “I’m barely acquainted with her. She must have moved here, what? A couple of months ago?”
“Something like that. She looks familiar to me.”
“Hmm. Well, I wonder what she’ll do now that she won’t be helping over at Sister Erma’s. Was that her only job?” I couldn’t imagine that helping around the house or running a few errands would be enough hours to support oneself, but—
“I don’t know. I thought I heard someone say she was a teacher but hadn’t found a job yet.” Mona rinsed her mug out in the sink behind my counter.
“It would be hard to find a teaching job in the middle of the school year. Especially in this small of a community.” I had never been a teacher, but I did work as a school social worker years ago, in Ohio. In my past life. I sighed. “Don’t forget we have a Hope House meeting tomorrow night. Will Rob be able to come?”
She pulled her keys out of her purse. “We’ll be there with shells on.”
What?
“You mean, with bells on?” I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh.
“Whatever.” She waved her hand in the air. “Todd will be there, won’t he?”
“Should be.” If he arrived home from Dallas in time. I knew he would do his best to be here. Todd and I, along with Mona and her husband Rob, Aunt Dot and Harry, and our friends, the Rev. Houston Gregory, and Lonnie, the mayor’s wife, made up the newly-formed advisory board for Hope House. Our vision was to open the home for young women and girls who had been rescued from sex-trafficking, within the next eighteen months. It was an ambitious goal, and we were all putting in long hours of planning and praying. We knew it should be here in Short Creek, but all we could find was a couple of acres out on Highway 95. Thanks to a couple of large, anonymous donations, we decided to go ahead and try to purchase the land. It seemed better to start small, rather than not start at all. But we were praying that the vacant property next to it would be put on the market soon, as our realtor hinted might happen.
My phone dinged. “Todd’s texting me right now. Oh, good. He says he finally has a minute to talk.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Mona winked at me. “See y’all tomorrow night.”
I waved at her as I pressed Todd’s number, waiting while his phone rang a couple of times. I imagined his rugged face, his smiling blue eyes and dark hair, his strong arms around me…
“Hey, sweetheart.” His deep voice made me smile. “Do you miss me?”
“Yes. Seems like it’s been more than two days since you left.” I settled onto the stool, hoping he could talk longer than a minute or two. “How are your meetings going?”
“Long. I got your text about Sister Erma. What happened? How’s Karen?”
Just like Todd to get straight to the point. “Your EMS buddies told Karen it was probably a heart attack.”
“That’s what I figured. Seems like the way to go wh
en you’re eighty-something. She’ll sure be missed, though.” I could picture him rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “How’s Dot holding up? I know they were close.”
“She’s okay. I stayed with her for a while, and she was going to be with Harry all afternoon.”
“Good. Are you doing okay? How’s Annie-dog?”
I smiled at the dog. She stretched, then padded over to me. “She’s right here. Want to say hi?”
I held the phone out to the dog and listened to Todd croon to her in the silly, high-pitched voice he used with her. She cocked her head.
“She says to hurry up and come back home,” I said.
“I miss you.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper, and my heart flipped over.
“I miss you too. I—” I toyed with a philodendron leaf, wishing he was sitting next to me, holding my hand, instead of three hours away. We had been dating for half a year, but sometimes I still felt there was so much we didn’t know about each other.
“Everything okay?”
“Sort of. I wish you were here.” I didn’t mean to sound so plaintive, but all of a sudden it felt like everything was piling up. Sister Erma, Karen, Aunt Dot, the board meeting, the post card, and the missing Janosics. “Are you going to be home in time for the meeting?”
“Should be. I’m going to pick Luke up on my way back into town, so he might have to hang out during the meeting. Things are a little trickier now that his mother moved to Dallas.”
Todd’s ex-wife had recently moved to the Dallas area, which meant he didn’t see his son as often as he’d like.
As usual, I stayed out of anything having to do with Todd’s ex-wife. “Luke won’t mind waiting for you too much, will he? He entertains himself better than any other twelve-year-old I’ve ever known.” Luke looked exactly like a young Todd, but he was still in a gangly, awkward stage. He and I hadn’t spent much time together, but we had quickly discovered that we had a common interest—reading thick books of all sorts. He had his nose in a book every time I saw him, except at church. “I’ll bring him the first book in this new mystery series I discovered. He’ll love it.”
Where There's a Will Page 3
