"I remember these," I said, grinning at the happy memory. "Aunt Edie made both of these for Tammy and me before this house became an inn. We had them on our beds when we came over to spend the night."
"They're lovely. They're not worth anything to a collector, of course, but you should keep them anyway."
"My niece might like them," I decided. "I think there might be a couple more but I don't remember Aunt Edie having any others from those days. I can't believe Edie kept these."
"I think they’re a real treasure. I'm sorry I couldn't help you find a commercially valuable one. Would Edie have anymore good ones stashed away somewhere else? Maybe in an unused closet or possibly a blanket box?"
"No, I checked all the closets already." I paused. There was one place I hadn't checked yet. "I haven't been up to the attic though."
"I love attics," said Danielle. Clapping her hands together, her eyes widened with unbridled glee. "Sometimes, my mom and I go to estate sales just to find such treasures. People store the most randomly valuable things and then forget all about them."
"Shall we look? I should warn you first: it's probably covered in decades of dust."
"I'm washable," laughed Danielle. "This is so exciting! Let's take a look."
"This way." I led her to the door at the far end of the hallway and tugged hard to pull it open before flicking the light switch on the wall. We were glad when the light came on above our heads. We jogged up the staircase and stepped onto the creaky boards of the attic. Dormer windows were set into the roof to let in the daylight but they were covered in grime. So was the door that led out to the widow's walk. Something else to add to my list of things to clean and inspect!
"There is so much stuff to examine," said Danielle as we looked out over the boxes and random items cluttering most of the floor surface. A chaise lounge was buried under what looked like old curtains and I spotted an ancient, rather ugly mirror set into an ornate frame. There were boxes upon boxes of unidentified items. "Is that a rocking horse?" she asked, pointing across the room.
"I think it is. Tammy and I used to play on it. Aunt Edie told me she and her husband bought it when they started trying to have children."
"That's so sad."
"I thought so too, but Tammy and I were thrilled whenever we got to play on it."
Danielle picked her way through the boxes and stooped to examine the little horse. "It's a very well-known brand, one that I think still hold its value," she told me. "It's European too so it has probably gone up since the day Edie bought it. It even has its saddle and bridle still. Edie had great taste! You could auction this off for a lot of money. Or maybe display it downstairs somewhere for your own kids."
I thought about Nate’s offer on the house and tried to imagine him raising a family here. He would probably have a gaggle of little black-haired boys and girls who would climb all over it. I could see them pretending to be Olympian gods or cavalry riders. In my mind, I could see Nate turning to a woman in the doorway and reaching out for her, wrapping her in his arms. Then I realized the woman was me!
"Are you okay?" asked Danielle.
"Hmm?" I blinked, instantly snapping out of the fantasy. I could not consider Nate like that!
"You suddenly went pale. I thought you might faint."
"It's just the dust." Right on cue, I sneezed.
"I hate to say it, but you'll probably have to go though every box," said Danielle. "There's no telling what's in here. There might even be things from before Edie's time."
"My list of things to do only gets longer," I said, shaking my head. Secretly, however, the idea of working my way through all of these boxes and hidden caches was more than tempting. There was no way I could sell the house without knowing what was buried inside it. I tried to imagine this room totally emptied and refurnished, perhaps as a very grown-up sitting room. I could easily envision it catching the last rays of the evening light through the dormer windows, or as an artist's studio, or a studio apartment. I sneezed again.
"Let's get downstairs before you have to sneeze again," said Danielle. She picked her way back, trying not to dislodge anything. When she reached me, she stooped over and brushed the accumulated dust from her knees.
"I don't suppose you want to help?" I asked as I looked over the boxes. "You probably know what's worth keeping better than I do since you know so much about antiques."
Danielle beamed. "All those years in my parents’ shop definitely paid off. I thought you'd never ask!"
We headed down the stairs and I turned off the lights and forced the door closed. When we reached Nate, he had already removed all the paintings and was rapping his knuckles against the wall. "This wall is fine," he said, turning to us. "Oh, hi, Danielle. What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cooling.
"Hi, Nate." She waggled her fingers at him. "I'm helping Vanessa."
Nate flashed a look at me. "That makes two of us," he said before he turned away. "Did you pick a paint color?"
"Not yet," I said.
"I'll bring a book for you to choose from; then I can pick it up." He turned back again. "You staying long, Danielle?"
"I'm thinking of moving back to town," she said, hooking her arm through mine. "All we need to do is persuade Vanessa to stick around and the whole gang can be reunited. Us girls have to stick together, don't we?"
Nate muttered something under his breath as he turned away.
Danielle didn't appear to notice as she carried on, "I think it's time I headed home and got that shower. Nate, it was great seeing you again and so sweet of you to visit me in Seattle! Bye!"
"Nate visited you?" I asked as we walked back to the entryway.
"He came to Seattle and we happened to run into each other. It was a very memorable weekend," she said as she winked at me. "I always thought he'd settle down with Tia but I guess people change when they grow older."
"Tia?" I frowned.
"Oh, Vanessa! You never noticed the crush they had on each other at school?"
"No!"
"They were both so shy and silly about it, which was ridiculous to begin with. Anyone who knew them could see they were perfect for each other. I think Nate had a crush on all of us at one time or another." She laughed. "At least we can laugh about it now! That reminds me, are you still searching for that man's car with Tia later?"
I gulped down the confusion I felt at her confession. "Yeah, after she finishes work."
"Let me know what you find, okay? And call me to say when's a good time for us to start clearing out the attic boxes. I must confess, I'm more excited about what we might find there than who the murdered man is!"
I promised I'd call her the next day and remind her to wear clothes she didn't mind getting dirty, then we hugged quickly and Danielle left, waving.
I headed back to Nate, still puzzled over Danielle's comments. Did he really have a crush on all four of us? It seemed so strange to think that and, according to Danielle, they spent a whole weekend together in the not-so-distant past. Maybe that explained why Nate was so frosty towards her? Was he surprised to see her? Maybe they hadn't kept in touch. Had something gone wrong? Or was he simply embarrassed by the encounter she alluded to?
"Danielle gone?" he asked when I stepped into the art room. A shiver ran up my spine and I suddenly felt cold and awkward. I didn't know if it was because the day was drawing to an end or the odd way I felt about Nate and Danielle being together romantically.
"Yes, but she's coming back tomorrow to help me some more."
"Help you? With what?"
"Well, today we drove around the local motels to see if anyone recognized the dead man."
This time Nate paused. "That was a good idea. Any luck?"
"No, no one recognized him so he probably stayed somewhere far out of town. Danielle is coming back tomorrow to help me get started with the attic clear-out. She knows all about antiques and collectibles. I hope that's not awkward for anyone."
"Not for me," he said. "I stacked all t
he canvases on one wall and threw a dust sheet over them. You could go for white on this wall but I think something warm would work just as well."
The doorbell rang again. "Hold that thought," I told him, not surprised that he changed the topic.
"If that's the police coming to arrest you for meddling in their investigation," Nate called after me. "I promise to spring you from jail!"
Chapter Eleven
It wasn't the police. It was my dad wielding a very large and scary-looking power trimmer. "If this were Hallowe'en, and you were wearing a mask, I would be out of this house so fast and scrambling for safety," I said, pointing at the tool.
"Now you're giving me some good costume ideas," grinned Dad. "Do you think I can persuade your mom to join me?"
"I don't think you can persuade her to get into a costume at all. Come in." I widened the door and he stepped through. "Hey, Nate," Dad called, waving to Nate. He placed the power trimmer on the entryway floor and walked through to the kitchen.
"Nate and I were just discussing all the work that needs to be done."
"And the murder," added Nate. "Can you give me a hand clearing out the garden furniture? Vanessa doesn’t want to keep any of it."
"Sure can." Dad clapped Nate on the back and the two of them walked out, each grabbing a chair and disappearing around the side of the house. I must admit I was more than glad to see the chairs disappear. I picked up the notepad and added “buy lawn furniture” before I immediately crossed it out. What in the world did I need garden furniture for if I wasn’t planning to stay? I couldn't take it with me to an apartment and the new owners probably would want something to reflect their own taste.
The idea of new owners for the house was unexpectedly painful. Perhaps if Nate bought the house, it wouldn't feel so bad to give up. I tried to imagine him rattling around the house all by himself but I couldn't. Yet when I pictured him with a wife and a gaggle of giggling children chasing after him, it felt just as bad as when I tried to imagine new owners living inside it.
Fortunately, the door bell rang again. "You guys couldn't just walk around the house?" I called as I marched toward the door and pulled it open. Instead of my dad and Nate, however, I saw a short man with a mop of white hair and a very loud shirt.
"Vanessa?" he said.
"Leonard!" I gasped in surprise.
"In the flesh," he said, spreading his arms out wide and dancing in a circle. "I read in the newspaper that you recently took over The Blackberry Inn so I had to come by and say hello. I miss this great, old place. Are you going to invite me in?"
"Yes, of course. Leonard, it is so nice to see you." Leonard was always one of my favorite people in Aunt Edie's artist retreats. He painted lovely portraits of animals, was free with his warm smiles and compliments, and also a very good cook. Best of all, he was a very good friend to Edie. I hadn't seen him since her funeral, when I’d comforted him as he sobbed.
"Everyone is very excited that you're taking over the Inn. Anne said she already came by to see you. We weren't so keen to hear about that other business they wrote up in the newspaper but I suppose any publicity is good publicity," he said as he beamed at me and hooked his arm through mine.
"I'm not sure I agree with you about that."
"You just haven't seen the positive side to it yet. Everyone knows about the Inn. You'll have more bookings than you can handle as soon as you reopen!"
I thought about telling Leonard that I'd already explained to Anne Cunningham that I didn’t have any intention of reopening the Inn, but I ignored that thought and decided on a different question. "Leonard, did you, by any chance, recognize the photo of the man in the newspaper article?"
"You mean the one that was killed?" Leonard pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows together, revealing a pattern of deep lines on his forehead. "No, can't say that I did. What was he doing here anyway? Stealing?"
"Detective Logan thinks so but I didn’t notice anything missing. You were here more often than I was, perhaps you would perceive the absence of something if it were gone?"
"I don't know about that. Edie and I didn't exactly traipse around the house cataloging her belongings."
"But you would know if something big or significant were missing?"
"I guess so. We can take a look."
"Thanks, Leonard."
He patted my hand. "And while we walk around, you can tell me all about your plans for this house. We're all so excited. Will you be hosting some of the artists’ sessions too?"
"I'm afraid not. You know I can't draw."
"Sure you can."
"Do you remember any of my drawings?" I asked.
"Hmm… well, no."
"Exactly! Give me a computer, on the other hand, and I can manipulate any image you want."
"Oh, how I adore this living room." Leonard sighed. "Edie and I spent such lovely afternoons languishing here. Sometimes we'd get drunk too."
"I know. You both used to prank call me," I reminded him. I wondered how they could have ever thought they would get away with it when I had caller ID. It never stopped them though.
Leonard giggled. "Edie and her secret recipe for margaritas. You should host a memorial soiree for some of us old folk when you reopen the Inn and only serve those cocktails. They will really get the party going in no time at all."
I didn't have the heart to tell him I had no intention of reopening the Inn and his hopes for a cocktail party would never happen. "Let's walk through," I said after he described the living room exactly as he remembered it. We toured the rest of the house and finally ended up in the rear living room.
"This room is bursting with happy memories as well as some very interesting art," he said, pointing to a portrait of a bug. It was hung at the top of the gallery wall that Nate had partially removed. "That's one of mine. I did that puppy over there too."
"They're beautiful, Leonard."
"Thank you. Some of my earlier work. I like to think I've become a lot better since then. It was so sweet of Edie to hang our work on display. It makes one feel so appreciated and treasured!"
"She did treasure you," I told him.
"She was my best friend. I miss her so much." We stood in silence, staring at the wall, each of us lost in our memories until we both happened to look at each other at the same time and share a smile. "I'm glad you're here," said Leonard. "Have I mentioned that?"
"Once or twice. I'm glad you're here too."
"I did everything I could to be a good friend to Edie right up to the end," he continued. "Even when she failed to recognize me anymore."
"That's what makes you all the more special," I told him and the short man's eyes welled up with hot tears.
He huffed a deep sigh and shook himself. "I can't see anything missing," he said. "I'm sorry. Perhaps the poor man just got scared off."
"Could be."
"Oh, hellooo! Who is that?"
I craned my head to see what Leonard was looking at on the veranda. My dad and Nate were collecting the last of the garden furniture. "My dad?"
Leonard smacked my arm playfully. "No, silly. The hunk standing next to him."
"Nate Minoso."
"Oh, that Nate. Mmm-hmmm," he said as he winked. "Edie always said you two would get back together one day."
"We never were together," I pointed out.
"Unlucky for you."
"I'll call my dad in. I know he'll want to say hello to you." I rapped on the window and beckoned my father. He set down the last chair and motioned toward the kitchen doors. Leonard and I walked through to meet him and they greeted each other like the old friends they were. After a moment, Nate walked in too and Leonard insisted on hugging him warmly. Nate just grinned and patted Leonard's back as the short man nuzzled his chest. I saw an expression of deep serenity on Leonard’s face.
"I can't tell you how often I've passed by here and imagined how sad Edie would be if she had to see her beloved house like this," Leonard said after I offered them drinks. "When the Inn o
pens up again, it will make her so proud."
"Vanessa has already decided to sell the place," said Dad.
Leonard shot me an appalled look. "But Edie wanted you to have it! She spoke about that more than once."
"She did?"
"Yes! She said you were the only person who could love this house as much as she did. Oh, I don't suppose it matters now, not if you don't want to be here. I'm just happy I can walk around it again, just to be reminiscing."
"Aunt Edie had a terrific photo in her study of you two," I said, skirting his comment. I had no real explanation. The idea of causing so much disappointment to Edie by not keeping the house was starting to weigh on me. Even though it was far too big for me as a single woman, and I didn't know the first thing about running an inn, not to mention that moving back to Calendar was virtually impossible, I still felt guilty. "Dad, would you go grab it while I pour the drinks?"
"Sure, honey. Where is it in the study?"
"On the mantel."
"Nate, what do you think about all the work there is to do around here?" asked Leonard. He settled down into a chair as I pulled the bottle of lemonade from the fridge and poured it into four glasses. I took them over to the kitchen table in pairs, the first two for Leonard and Nate, and the second pair for my father and me.
"There really isn't all that much to do. Most of it is cosmetic and maybe a few zoning code updates. Vanessa walked me through the house and it won't take too long. The yards, on the other hand—" Nate whistled and a tuft of his hair flew up slightly when the air caught it. Leonard rested his chin in his hand, looked up at Nate and sighed. I knew just how he felt.
"Vanessa!" Dad yelled. He came running into the kitchen, carrying two photo frames in his hand.
"Dad, What's wrong?"
"This is it!" He brandished one of the photos at me.
"You found the one of Leonard and Aunt Edie?" I frowned at his obvious delight.
"What? Oh, yes. Here it is, Leonard." Dad handed him the photo frame and turned the other frame to face me. "I told you I'd seen him somewhere before!"
Alibi in April (Calendar Mysteries Book 4) Page 10
