Jane looked around the bowling alley and wondered if anyone had given much of a thought to their missing coworker, Sluggo Mettleman. No one had tried to kill him no matter what Jane had overheard him screaming into the phone. The three-leaf clover he had found? Any one of the pranksters on the crew could have dropped that into his bag, thinking it was Lucky’s kit, but no one had tried to kill anyone. Instead of attempted murder, the Lucky Duck cocktail served up here had only contained the equally potent mix of revenge and greed.
In the midst of the noisy celebrating going on, Jane saw the automatic doors open and Mary Wainwright entered on the arm of her off-and-on-again escort, Chuck Havens, another familiar face from Bishop McNamara High School. Jane waved at them and Mary mouthed something to her across the room. Jane shook her head and lifted her palms.
Mary pointed to her throat, lifted the lapel of her jacket, and broadly gestured toward the placket that ran down the front. Jane laughed at the pantomime, but had no idea what Mary was trying to tell her.
Cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting over the noise as she threaded her way closer to Jane, Mary shouted one word. “Buttons!”
Jane smiled at what she thought she heard, then shook her head again. Couldn’t be. Too perfect.
“Buttons! The stone factory made buttons.”
“Buttons?” Jane called back.
“Mother of pearl. From the shells in the Kankakee River. Shell buttons!”
Jane looked over at Don and Nellie, who were now watching her exchange with Mary. Tim had also looked up when he saw Mary and Chuck enter and was shouting something in Maurice’s ear.
“You’re sure it was buttons?” asked Jane.
“Buttons,” said Mary, holding up some pages stapled together and pointing at the copy of her research.
“Sold!” said Jane.
Later, at the Steak and Brew, over a table of drinks and food and in a much quieter venue, Mary and Chuck, Jane and Sal, and Maurice and Tim sat at a round table discussing the events of the day and the real estate deals to come.
Jane told them about her plan to buy the Button Factory, and make it into a live and work space. The modifications that had been done to turn it into Lucky’s studio were perfect for Jane’s new business plan. There was enough room to relocate and expand T & T sales and also to maintain the building as a small studio where, if the spirit moved her, she could rekindle some of her old contacts in advertising, produce a few commercial spots. Why not? In the new economy, Jane thought she just might be able to sell herself as a less expensive alternative to some of the agencies in Chicago. And she was only ninety minutes out of the city. A roof garden with a river view, a loft space to live in at the back, and a work space in the front all seemed doable with her newfound real estate wealth and the insurance check that would arrive soon to cover her lost collectibles.
“Hard to imagine you rattling around in a huge empty space,” said Tim.
“It won’t be empty. Not for long anyway. I’m going to use some of Carl’s furniture and try out a midcentury modern life for a while,” said Jane.
“I knew you couldn’t resist coming back to the Kankakee theater world,” said Mary.
Jane laughed. She really wasn’t planning on trying out for The Music Man, but if Mary thought she had a little competition for the lead, it would only make her better prepare for her own audition. What Jane didn’t tell anyone at the table was that she had been taking a long hard look at Don and Nellie and the EZ Way Inn since Carl died. Her parents needed some help. This was going to be a transition time for them and since Jane had Nick happily settled in school, her house sold, and no belongings to weigh her down, why not stop in Kankakee for a while.
And that beautiful building had been a button factory.
“Meant to be,” said Jane aloud.
Sal reacted to Jane’s remark as one directed toward him and he placed his hand over hers. She smiled, and patted his hand with her other one before slipping both away to wave at Detective Oh. She rose to meet her partner, who had just come into the dining room.
“Detective Ramey sends his best wishes,” said Oh, “and he says to also thank you for not bringing any murdered bodies to his doorstep.”
“I’m not sure I can take responsibility for that, but I’ll accept the thanks for now,” said Jane. She had told Oh earlier that she wanted to relocate to Kankakee, to make sure her parents were okay, and she had asked if they could still work together—when he felt her expertise was needed.
“Mrs. Wheel, you are the only partner I wish to have. Our business now has a branch office, which you will head,” he had said. That was just before Nellie talked him into subbing on the EZ Way Inn team and Jane had watched Detective Oh bowl for the first time. Jane was not surprised that he was a natural.
When Jane got back to her parents’ house later that night, she expected Don and Nellie to be in bed. She used her key at the front door and slipped out of her shoes, tiptoeing into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She took out her notebook and drew a large square. She began doodling in walls and bookcases, office space and living space. She drew another elevation for her roof garden. Mary Wainwright was going to put Jane’s offer in on Monday morning, but had already assured her that it would be accepted.
“Place has been on the market for over four years. Owner’ll think he died and went to heaven when he gets this,” said Mary.
Jane sent an e-mail to Nick, telling him she had a big wonderful surprise for him and that they would talk tomorrow.
“It’s tomorrow already,” said Jane to Rita, playing shaggy rug at her feet.
“Sure as hell is,” said Nellie, padding in from her bedroom. “That tea got caffeine in it? You’ll be up all night.” She fixed herself a cup and sat down.
“What about you?” asked Jane.
“I’m immune,” said Nellie. “After drinking EZ Way Inn coffee all those years, whatever I had in me that reacted to strong stuff got killed a long time ago. I could chew grounds and still sleep. If I wanted to sleep that is, and I usually don’t.”
“Mom, how would you feel if I did move back to Kankakee? I’d still work with Tim and Detective Oh, but I have some other ideas for a business,” Jane said. “I’d be around to help you and Dad out, too. If you wanted me to.”
“That’d be all right,” said Nellie. “Your dad would like it.”
“Right,” said Jane. It was no use. Jane was never going to hear what she wanted from her mother. Nellie wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was appreciated, knowing she was doing the right thing. Nellie might want her daughter to come home and help out, but Jane knew she was never going to hear Nellie say it out loud.
“You guys all set for Carl’s memorial?”
“Yup. We’re opening up on Monday, with shorter hours that your dad and I can handle, and then on Friday, we’ll have everybody in and serve food and talk about Carl and I suppose your dad will cry. It’ll be a good way to say good-bye,” said Nellie. “Your brother’s coming in.”
Jane nodded and told her mother that she and Michael had spoken on the phone.
“Carl cared a lot for you kids, you know,” said Nellie. She got up and took both cups to the sink and washed them out. “I believe your dad and I and you kids were the only family Carl had.”
Nellie dried her hands, then opened a drawer next to the sink and took out what looked to Jane like a slip of paper. “I found this today and I want you to have it,” said Nellie. “It’s a four-leaf clover I found in a patch of weeds out behind the EZ Way Inn and Carl always kept it in the cash register. Said it protected him, kept him winning on the punchboards and the lotto tickets. Kept him lucky. Now it’ll keep you safe. And lucky.”
Jane stood up to follow her mother to bed. Rita got up, too, wagging her tail, facing the delicious luxury of having two humans who wanted her to follow them into bed.
At the door to her room, Jane faced her mother. She stood a head taller than Nellie and lo
oking down at her mother’s weathered face made Jane inexplicably sad. She felt like she was about to say good-bye, not good night, and she realized she didn’t trust herself to be able to speak at all.
“I know,” said Nellie, “I know.” Then Nellie did the unthinkable and hugged her daughter. “Now go to bed and get some sleep. You got yourself about four part-time jobs and I heard a rumor you’re buying a damn factory to live in.”
Jane watched her mother tiptoe into her bedroom and close the door. What in the world is wrong with me? thought Jane, feeling like she wanted to sob and laugh hysterically at the same time. Here she was, a grown-up woman, a mother and a daughter and a friend and a partner and every day she faced all of those things a grown-up human being had to deal with. But the truth was, in the middle of the night, in her hometown of Kankakee, Illinois, Jane Wheel realized she was just another child who had been waiting a long time for a four-leaf clover and a good-night hug from her mother.
also by sharon fiffer
Backstage Stuff
Scary Stuff
Hollywood Stuff
Buried Stuff
The Wrong Stuff
Dead Guy’s Stuff
Killer Stuff
About the Author
SHARON FIFFER collects buttons, Bakelite, pottery, vintage potholders, and other killer stuff. The author of seven previous Jane Wheel mysteries, she lives near Chicago.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
LUCKY STUFF. Copyright © 2012 by Sharon Fiffer. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein
Cover illustration by Grave Devito
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Fiffer, Sharon Sloan, 1951-
Lucky stuff / Sharon Fiffer. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-312-64303-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-01489-4 (e-book)
1. Wheel, Jane (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Women private investigators—Fiction. 3. Antique dealers—Fiction. 4. Illinois—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3606.I37L83 2012
813'.6—dc23
2012014698
e-ISBN 9781250014894
First Edition: September 2012
Lucky Stuff (Jane Wheel Mysteries) Page 25
