“Wow,” I said. “Big stuff for a first date, don’t you think?”
Tim ignored me. “Y’all be careful today. Call me if you need anything. And don’t do anything stupid.”
“Who us?” Charli said. “Why Timothy Unser, what on earth would make you think that either one of us would do anything foolish?” She chucked him under the chin and gave him a hug. “Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll be good girls. I think we’ve learned our lesson. Haven’t we Marty?”
I mumbled a half-hearted yes and went off to get ready for my first foray into retail sales. I was still groggy and worn out. Plus, very, very confused about some things.
21
Every window in the Mustang was shattered. I almost sat right down and cried again. Just what I needed. More bad luck. Tim had found it when he went to leave. I was too close to hysterics to say anything. It was minor, compared to nearly drowning, but, for some reason, the broken glass seemed worse. My hands were shaking and it felt like I was close to hyperventilating.
Tim snuggled me to him, leaving me even more confused than I’d already been. “I’ll call it in. You’ll need the police report for your insurance.”
I pulled out of his grip and backed away. A hurt look flashed across his face, making me feel like a real chump. But I couldn’t help it. Having his arms around me conjured up feelings I just didn’t want to deal with right then. Or, truthfully, ever.
“No. It’s no use,” I stammered. “I only have liability. It’s so old and in such crappy condition that Dad said there wasn’t any use in having more than that.”
“Well, at the very least, I’ll call my buddy who does auto window replacement. He’ll come over and repair it right here in the driveway.” He made the call, and then he and Charli helped me clean up the glass.
Later, Charli and I piled into her SUV and drove over to the shop. We were a little late, but there weren’t hordes of folks lined up waiting for us. Charli twisted the brand new key around in the brand new lock and finally wiggled it up and down. The back door to the old building was, as I’d noticed before, a heavy steel one, and it stuck before it finally creaked open. There was a light switch on the wall just inside, so Charli flicked it on, but it barely made a dint in the darkness.
“We should have come in through the front door,” I said. “This storage room definitely needs some better lighting. I don’t know how on earth you’ll be able to see to even know what’s in here.”
Charli agreed. “After we get the lay of the land, I’ll run get a couple of lamps and some bulbs. That’ll have to do until I can get Dad or John to give me some advice on better lighting.”
As near as I could tell, the storage area was, like the rest of the shop, about thirty feet wide. It was longer, though, maybe about forty feet, and there was a set of double swinging doors like those in western movies, leading into the main part of the shop. There were shelves lining the perimeter, each neatly organized with various items, mostly sports memorabilia for the two big colleges in Virginia and the local high schools. On the right wall were four doors.
“Where do those go?” I asked.
“Restroom, kitchen, the room she used as a playroom, and the office.”
Sure enough, that’s what was behind the doors. Fortunately, each of the rooms had better bulbs and there was a window over the kitchen sink looking out over the back lot where Charli and I had parked. The kitchen, which was actually a small room with a sink, microwave on a cart, a dorm refrigerator, and a tiny bistro table with two chairs, and the bathroom were both spotless. The office was also very neat. It held a heavy, old walnut desk, a beat-up, leather and oak desk chair, and an old oak filing cabinet. I was anxious to look into the desk drawers and the filing cabinet to see if Sabrina had left any personal items, but Charli swept past me and banged through the swinging doors to the front of the shop.
“I promised Mrs. Conner I’d get the place open on time, even though I don’t think we’ll see very many customers,” Charli said. “She did tell me that Saturdays are the busiest days, I guess since it’s next to the Farmer’s Market. Today is also Glenvar College’s move-in day, so we might see some traffic later on once the parents get their kids settled in and don’t have anything else to do.”
The shop wasn’t a whole lot brighter than the back room, despite the fact that it had massive bay windows across almost the whole front of the building. Sabrina had the windows merchandised nicely, but they really cut off almost all of the light. The place was cram-packed with stuff: furniture, lotions, wooden crafts, jewelry, candles, the Woolbrand clothing items, wine, beer, gourmet foods, and all sorts of knick-knacks. The place reeked from all of the competing scents, like being in a bottle of cheap perfume. I sneezed three times and my eyes began to water. I was definitely going to have to take allergy pills if I planned to spend any time at all in the store.
In the center, near the front, was a u-shaped, glass-fronted, oak display cabinet. The only thing that seemed out of place sat front and center on top of the case: a modern, beige, electronic cash register.
Charli unlocked the front door, flipped the sign around so it said open, turned on the cash register, and filled it with the change from the bank money-bag she’d snagged from its hiding place in the office. She put her hands on her hips and turned in a slow circle, apparently taking in her surroundings. She completed her survey and looked over at me, a huge grin on her face.
“It’s okay for now, but as soon as I buy it, I’m going to make this place great.”
“How do we know how much things sell for?” I asked.
“It’s all supposed to be marked.” She picked up a bottle of organic lotion made from goat’s milk and pointed to the sticker on the bottom. “See. $17.50.”
I shook my head. “Seventeen fifty for a tiny bottle of lotion? Good grief! No wonder no one ever comes in here.”
“It’s not really that expensive. And people do come in here. Plenty of them according to the sales report I looked over. By the way, that lotion is one of the best sellers. Sabrina sourced it from a local woman over in the county who makes it in small batches. This is the only place it’s sold. Well, and online, of course. Almost everything in here is made local and is exclusive to this shop. That’s why it makes so much money. Other than some of the food stuff, the wine and beer, and some of the sports memorabilia, the only place within fifty miles that can sell these items is this little boutique.”
I poked around, picking up items, checking the prices, suffering from sticker shock, and putting them back down. After a few minutes, I went back to the office. I took my time digging through the drawers and files, but I didn’t find a single thing other than business papers that gave any indication at all that Sabrina Lewis had ever set foot in the place.
The desk held a computer, but the only documents on it related to the shop. The file cabinet and desk drawers were all filled with neatly labeled files and office supplies. There were no personal items at all: no pictures, no cute little cards from friends, nothing. Just like her apartment.
Charli sent me off to buy some lamps and brighter bulbs and we spent a couple of hours checking out the items in the storage area. Every once in a while, someone would wander in, browse around, and buy an item or two. While Charli chatted them up and rang up their purchases, I worked in the back filling and packaging several orders that needed to be shipped. Sabrina had left the orders staked on a labeled tray on top of the desk. During one lull in the foot traffic, Charli checked the online store for new orders and we filled those as well. At about four, a large group of women descended on the shop and I was pressed into helping out front.
“Do you have more of these in red?” a woman in a “Glenvar College Mom” shirt asked, holding up a set of tea towels with lace trim. “I only see the one and I need four of them. Plus I’ll take three sets of these blue ones.”
I knew there were none in the back, but the towels were displayed on an old washstand and the shelves held neat stacks of dry goods.
There were two drawers as well, one slightly open with a towel artfully draped across it. Inside were more of the towels, some in green and yellow, but no red. I opened the bottom drawer and inside found pink, orange, and a half-dozen more of the red tea towels. Underneath the stack was a medium-sized flat box. I handed the lady the red towels, closed the drawer, and continued helping with selling, ringing up, and wrapping the many purchases the women made. My mind, of course, was on the drawer and the enticing box. I’d known as soon as I saw it that it belonged to Sabrina.
Immediately after the women left, fifteen minutes past the advertised closing time and having dropped several hundred dollars, thereby ensuring our first day on the job a success, Charli locked up. Without delay, I retrieved the box from the drawer of the washstand. My hand shook as I opened it. I just knew inside I’d find the key to the mystery that was Sabrina Lewis.
I wasn’t disappointed.
22
Inside the box were a half-dozen pictures of a younger Sabrina in a hospital bed holding a very tiny newborn baby. She had a sad, far-away look in her eyes in a couple of the pictures and was obviously crying as she looked down at the baby in another one. Below the pictures was an envelope containing a birth certificate dated five years back. Sabrina was listed as the mother and the father’s name was heavily blacked out, apparently with a Sharpie. Also in the envelope were adoption papers, showing that Sabrina had blessed a couple, Mr. and Mrs. David Thomas, of Charlottesville, Virginia, with a six pound, eight ounce, twenty-one inch long baby boy.
I slumped to the floor, telling Charli to hurry. I don’t know why I told her to hurry. Maybe I was afraid that if she didn’t see the items, they’d disappear. She plopped onto the floor next to me and I handed over the box.
“Oh my.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “This is so sad. She was only seventeen. Can you imagine how scared she must have been. And how hard it must have been to give that baby up. What a generous thing to do.”
“I wonder why she redacted the birth certificate. Especially since she had it hidden.”
“What’s that?” Charli pulled a small book out of the bottom of the box and opened it.
It was a ledger of some sort. Entries started four months prior the birth of the baby and continued monthly. Until March, right before she moved to Glenvar, each posting was for one thousand dollars. March’s entry was for zero, April’s and May’s for two hundred each, and then June, July and August again had zeroes. Not to be reading too much into it, but the printing Sabrina used for those last three entries was so heavy compared to the earlier entries, it made it appear that she was quite angry. On the back inside cover, in the small, meticulous handwriting I’d come to recognize, Sabrina had written an account number and a log-in and password for an online brokerage account.
“Wow, maybe this is why she made a will,” Charli said.
“Maybe. But why wouldn’t she have left this with all her other financial papers?”
“Good question. Look, I know it’s not really our place, or our business, but let’s see if this account is active.”
We went into the office in the back room and logged onto the account.
“Holy cow!” Charli said. “There’s $73,930 in here!”
The account was set up as a trust and was for the benefit of Darrin Michael Thomas.
“I wonder if the family knows about this?” I logged off the site and put the books, the birth certificate and adoption papers, and the photos back in the box and returned it to the spot I’d found it.
“We’ll tell Carole about it tomorrow,” I said. “In the meantime, it’s best that they stay here. Obviously Sabrina hid them for good reason. Do you think that this is why she was murdered?”
Charli put her finger to her lips and rocked her head back and forth slightly as she thought it over. “Maybe. Oh man, Marty! Do you think that maybe the father was paying Sabrina to keep her mouth shut about the baby? Maybe he’s married. Maybe she threatened him and he killed her.”
“I suppose that could be it. Actually, I don’t know what to think, except that it’s awfully strange that the name of the family that adopted Sabrina’s baby is written on the back of a card for a sex chat website.”
“Absolutely. By the way, I forgot to tell you, but I went over to the library yesterday after I had the locks changed out and called the number. Alejandro answered, so I hung up right away. ”
“Is it possible that there’s not actually a connection between the site and the names? That maybe whoever wrote on it was just using the card to write on. You know, like I’m always doing with old receipts and napkins. ”
“Maybe. Probably. This whole thing is so bizarre, that at this point, nothing would surprise me. The thing that bothers me, though, is that Sabrina obviously knew the Thomas family and where they were located. Unless someone was blackmailing her, it seems to me that the only other person who might want to know that information would be the baby daddy.”
“Well, one thing for sure, the handwriting on the card isn’t Sabrina’s. Or Mark Donavan’s.” I told Charli about checking his when we were at the lake. “Maybe the card is meaningless. Maybe it’s coincidence.” I said it, but I didn’t believe it. Deep down, I knew that the card was a major piece in the puzzle.
We locked up the shop and went back over to Charli’s to get ready for our evenings out. Charli was having dinner with our folks at their house and I was going on my date with Harry. I put on the sexiest dress I own, a short, rather tight, black number and Charli did the hair straightening-curling the tips and make-up routine she’d done for me before we had visited the model agency.
I thought I looked pretty darned good, even if I did say so myself. Harry confirmed it when I opened the door.
“Wow, you looking gorgeous! I can’t wait to show you off. I hope you don’t mind, but I made reservations at Albertino’s. I’ve got to be at the park tomorrow at five to catch the team bus for our three game series down in Carolina, so I didn’t want to drive all the way over to Roanoke.”
I was good with that because, even though there are a ton of places to eat in downtown Roanoke, it’s still small enough that the chances of running into Tim and Carole were fairly high. Of course, I really should have known better than even think of that possibility because, no sooner than I thought it, it came to pass.
Harry and I pulled into Albertino’s and the dread hit the pit of my stomach as soon as I saw Tim’s truck parked two spaces down from the front door. I thought about suggesting we go somewhere else, but decided that was stupid. After all, we were all adults. It wasn’t like Harry and Tim were going to start brawling in the middle of dinner.
The two of them were seated in the back, in a cozy, semi-dark corner at a table for two. I hoped our table was one of the ones closer to the front.
Of course it wasn’t.
The hostess paraded us back and seated us at the table right next to them. The way the tables were set up, Carole and I ended up sharing a banquet bench.
I slid in behind the table and gave them a little wave. “Hey, y’all. Isn’t this a coincidence?”
Tim did his “I’m annoyed” lip thingie and Carole looked quite pissed.
Harry said hello to them and turned his attention to the drink list. He seemed oblivious to the annoyance radiating from the two of them. I certainly wasn’t.
Tim wore his best suit, a dark gray pinstriped job I’d helped him pick out back in the spring. I’d given him the shirt and tie he had on for his birthday. He looked sharp.
Harry, of course, looked amazing, despite the fact that he was wearing khakis and a white golf-type shirt. The real downer, for me, anyway, was Carole. She had on a dress that was identical to mine, but, due to her incredible figure, looked about a million times better in it. I felt like a little girl playing dress up next to her.
After we’d ordered our drinks, I leaned over and told Carole in a low voice that I had something important to talk to her about. “It’s about Sabrina. Charli and I
found some interesting papers at the Gift Shop today. I’ll bring them with us tomorrow when we meet to finish cleaning the apartment.”
She looked curious, but not curious enough to ask for any details. After that, Harry and I tried to pretend they weren’t there and they appeared to be doing the same. The issue, though, was that Albertino’s had great acoustics. Or terrible ones, depending on your perspective. I could hear every single word Tim and Carole said, which meant, I guessed, that they could also hear us.
“Marty, I’ve been thinking,” Harry said, taking my hand gently between his. “I want to take you home to meet my folks once the season ends. I know we’ve only known each other a week, but, well, I’m really falling for you and I think we’ve got something special.”
Tim squeezed his glass so hard I don’t know how it kept from shattering.
“Wow, Harry, I’m flattered,” I mumbled.
Okay, so I didn’t know what to say. If we’d been alone, I probably would have told him I was falling for him as well. But, with Tim sitting there hanging on our every word, I felt really, really uncomfortable.
“Timmy, getting to know you these last few days has been magical,” Carole said, reaching over and taking Tim’s hand in hers. “I hope you don’t get embarrassed by this, but you are the sweetest, gentlest guy I’ve ever met.” She gave him a sort of wicked grin. “Not to mention, one of sexiest.”
I tried to relax my jaw, but it was clenched so tight I thought my back teeth were going to break.
“So, Harry, tell me about your thesis. And your plans for the after season,” I said, fighting the urge to look over at Tim.
“I’m really fascinated by the whole financial industry,” Tim said to Carole. “What made you decide to become a financial planner?”
Harry launched into a long-winded explanation of his Master’s program at the same time Carole took off on a similarly boring account of her career path to date.
The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1 Page 59
