"I need a drink," said Danielle. She sneezed, wrinkled her nose, and sneezed again.
"I'll get you one," I told her, starting to rise.
"No, no, you stay there. I'll run down to the kitchen and get us a glass of something. I'll take that table down with me if you like? Where do you want it?"
"Leave it at the entryway please. It's not heavy though," I told her. I already tried lifting it.
"It's very pretty. I wonder why Edie put it up here." Danielle picked up the table and left. While I waited for her to return, I worked my way through a couple more boxes. I found more trashy books and a large box of VHS tapes. The books could go into a yard sale but I doubted anyone would want the obsolete tapes so they would probably have to be tossed. The next bag was a large laundry bag filled with some very dated linens. I put them in the trash or recycle pile.
"I took a look outside and almost all of those blackberry bushes are finally gone," said Danielle. I jumped as she stopped next to me. I hadn't heard her. "Sorry! Did I startle you?"
"No, I'm just a bit jumpy," I decided as my heart pounded. "They've almost finished with the yard?"
"Looks that way. There are still some bushes standing but they're all pruned and tidied up now so there will be some nice fruit. Nate's contractor swept the path and it looks like they're roto-tilling the dirt. The yard looks enormous now. I bet it looks so different from the sidewalk!"
"I hope so." The Petersons will be pleased and I was sure the rest of the neighbors would be too. It had been a terrible eyesore.
"Find anything exciting?"
"VHS tapes?"
"Ooh! Antique media!" Danielle passed me a glass of juice and I downed half of it quickly. Apparently, I was thirstier than I thought. "Let's get back to it. The treasure is here somewhere."
We worked our way through a couple more boxes of books and several boxes of men's clothes that must have belonged to Uncle John. Then we examined two more boxes of crockery. "These are very pretty," said Danielle. "I don't think they're valuable but I bet you can sell them all at your yard sale. Oh, look at these perfume bottles. They might be French."
"They very well might be. Aunt Edie and her husband traveled all over Europe."
"I think these should go in the keep pile. You could ask my mom to take a look at them. And there's a lovely box of vases here that look like real crystal. Edie really didn't throw anything away, did she?"
"Doesn't look that way," I said as I closed up a box of out-of-date toiletries that had clearly been destined for the guest bathrooms during the Inn's heyday. I pushed the box over to the trash side of the room and reached for the next box, finding a collection of old toys. "I think these were mine and Tammy's," I said. I held up the beautifully carved wooden alphabet blocks.
"They're gorgeous. A definite ‘must keep’ for your own kids one day."
"Or Tammy's although I suppose they're too old now for these blocks."
"You don't have to give them to Tammy. You should keep some things, especially that rocking horse you spotted the other day. That would look gorgeous in a nursery."
"But where will I store it when I go back to Chicago?" I asked, and the words had a hollow ring to them. How could I still contemplate living in an apartment over this house?
"You could rent a storage unit. You'll be able to afford it. What do you think is in that wardrobe?" Danielle pointed to the far side of the room.
"We'll find out in two weeks." It was meant as a joke but looking across the room still stuffed with things, it was also probably an accurate estimate.
"Let's look now just to shake things up a bit." Danielle took off and I realized I was just as curious as she. I followed her, pushing aside some canvases that were dislodged between boxes as she moved past. Danielle had already opened the wardrobe when I got there and was gasping in delight. "Look at these dresses! They must be Edwardian. Oh, Vanessa! The lace!"
I brushed my fingertips over the delicate dresses. "These must have been left here before Aunt Edie bought the house. They're obviously long before her time."
"The town museum would love these. Collectors would too. Maybe even some of the big fashion museums. Look how perfectly pristine they are! There are purses and shoes too. It's like someone just put away their things one day and never got them out again. I wonder whom they belonged to."
"I think we should leave them where they are. I don't know how to handle them but you're right that they should be displayed in a museum," I agreed, backing away in case the delicate garments fell apart in my hands.
"This is your first thrilling discovery," said Danielle, beaming with excitement. "I bet it won't be the last. I just knew this would be an exciting adventure."
"Vanessa?" Nate's voice sounded up the stairs.
"I'll be right back," I told my friend as I picked my way back across the attic.
I was calling out "Coming!" as I hurried down the stairs, finding Nate waiting.
"You're back!"
"I am and I have everything I need for the security system. Are you okay for me to get started?"
"Yes, please."
"Good. The yard is almost clear in the front. We'll have to burn most of the debris. All those thorns are too nasty to move and I don't want anyone's arms all cut up. Once the dirt is turned over, we can plant grass seed or I can pick up some rolls of turf if you want an immediate lawn."
"I'll ask my mom what she thinks."
"No hurry. I checked on your dad’s progress and he made a nice, wide path to the garage. The garage doors were padlocked but the side entry was unlocked so we can check that out later. Oh, and I found the kittens in the entryway. They nearly got outside but I scooped them up and put them back in the painting room."
"Thank you. I don't know how they got out. I'm sure I shut the door. I'd like to take a look at the garage soon. Shout to me when you're ready?"
"Vanessa?" This time, Danielle called me from above.
"Is that Danielle?" Nate asked, his expression darkening.
"Yes, it is. Look, I don't know what happened between you two but please, can you just try and get a long for my sake?"
Nate stared at me a long moment then nodded. "Sure," he said. "I'll get out of your way."
"No, I didn't mean it like..." But he was gone before I could finish, then Danielle called my name again and I hurried back upstairs to see what she had found.
Chapter Sixteen
Danielle's exciting discovery while I was talking to Nate was a large collection of artwork that was crammed against the eaves and covered with a dustcloth. "These are lovely," I said, picking up one small canvas after another. Each was a delicate, beautifully drawn building. I recognized several of them from around town. When I saw all of the old-fashioned details, however, I had to assume these were drawn many decades ago. A squiggle of a signature was at the bottom right of each canvas. "I think these were drawn by Uncle John!"
"He was an artist too?"
"I heard he was but I never saw many of his drawings. He focused on his career after they returned from their European adventures. There're a couple downstairs on Aunt Edie's art wall. Well, at least, they were there," I added, remembering Nate took them all down so he could repair the wall.
"Where are they now?"
"Everything is piled up in the art room. I thought I might offer some of them back to her students."
"That's a nice thing to do. These are far too nice to give away. I think you should keep these too."
"There're so many!" I gazed at them. They were priceless and they were Uncle John's. I wondered if he hid them up here, or did Aunt Edie?
"The Calendar Museum then. You already have enough material for two special exhibitions and I think we've only gone through fifteen percent of the boxes!"
"I told you we'd be here two weeks sorting through all of this stuff."
"And finding a new treasure every day. It's thrilling."
"It is," I agreed. "It definitely makes up for whoever tried to break in
last night."
Danielle gasped. "Really? What happened?"
"Someone tried to break in through the sunroom but they didn't succeed. I called the police but whoever it was left by the time the cops arrived.
"Vanessa, that's terrible! You must have been so scared."
"I was but now I'm just glad they didn't get in. I don't know what I would have done if they had actually intruded."
"How did you even know someone was out there?"
"I heard a noise that woke me up. I suppose I've been a light sleeper ever since I found Terry."
"The sooner you sell the house, the better you’ll sleep. If I were you, I’d take the first reasonable offer I got," said Danielle.
I thought about the deal I made with Nate, the right of first refusal if I chose to sell the house. I realized I was assuming if, not when. I could sell the house today, as is, to him, but I wasn't sure anymore. I wanted a lot more now that I thought about it. I wanted to see Aunt Edie's house restored to its former beauty again. I wanted to investigate all of the attic boxes and discover what else she stuffed away up there. I wanted to walk into the museum armed with photos of all the treasures I found, and make the curator fall over in their eagerness and excitement to behold my fortune for themselves. I wanted to visit my parents without having to make plans weeks in advance and see my niece and nephew every week. I wanted to see if Tia were right about setting up a freelance graphic design business and making a success of it. It was so much more attractive to me now rather than toiling all hours for a boss that could fire me whenever he chose to. I wanted to kiss Nate.
"Earth to Vanessa," cooed Danielle.
I blinked and looked up. "Hmm?"
"You disappeared somewhere just then. I hope you're visualizing a big sale."
A big sale? I’ll say! I was selling my whole life and purchasing a new one. Yeah. Instead of saying that, I said, "Something like that."
"Oh, shoot. I have to go soon but I want to come back tomorrow and carry on with our search for discoveries. This is so wonderful! Say yes?" Danielle's bubbly enthusiasm was impossible to turn down, and I had to admit, it wouldn't have been as much fun if I had to continue all alone. "I would invite you to stay with me tonight rather than spending another night here, but I'm currently camping in the tiny studio over my parents' garage. Why don't you stay with Tia? Or at your mom and dad’s? I know you're putting a brave foot forward and all, but you must be a wreck."
"I'll think about it," I said, knowing I shouldn't rule it out. I very much needed a good night's sleep.
"I'll call and check on you later. Then you can let me know if you find anything else of great value."
"I think I'll leave this until tomorrow. I have a few other things I have to do. I'll grab those frames and walk you out." I picked up the box of silver photo frames and Danielle grabbed her jacket and our drinking glasses before we walked downstairs. I deposited the frames in the entryway so I could look through them later. When I opened the door, I gasped. Instead of finding a jungle of thorns, the whole front yard was cleared and empty. A bonfire burned on one side, well away from anything that might have accidentally caught fire. The fence wasn't as bad as I expected and only needed a few minor repairs and a new coat of paint. From her vantage point on the veranda, Mom looked thrilled.
"Well, look at this," said Danielle. "I can see the sidewalk finally. Bye, Vanessa. Bye, Mrs. Wright!" She waved as she bounded along the path and got into her car. Waving again, she pulled away.
"You girls have fun?" asked Mom.
"We found some very interesting things in the attic," I told my mother. "Thanks for overseeing this work. It looks unbelievable."
"It wasn't hard, plus, I'm standing guard at the front while your father is guarding the back. Between the two of us, it’s made us both feel a lot more useful."
"You know you don't have to guard me." I hooked my arm through my mom's, feeling guilty about all the worry I was putting them through. "Who's that?" I asked as a car pulled up outside, behind Nate's truck.
We waited until a woman got out and looked around. "That's Gwendolyn Cooper," said Mom. "She's the real estate agent I told you about. She's been selling all those houses at the new development just outside of town. You know the one, Bayview Drive?"
"Why's it called Bayview? We don't have any bays nearby."
"I think it sounds nice. I went out there to take a look one day and Gwen was planting bay trees in all the yards of the new homes so I suppose the development has bay views of a different kind."
"That's pretty smart."
"She's coming over. I bet she heard you wanted to sell the house," said Mom. "Or did you call her?"
"No, I didn't. I forget how fast news travels around here."
"Just be glad that barely anyone thinks it's scandalous that Nate's truck was seen parked outside your house all night."
"It wasn't outside all night! I called him at three a.m. and he slept on the couch."
"Not my business what you two do," said Mom. "I'm glad you called him and I'm glad he was there for you. He misses you. He doesn't always say it but I know he does and I know you miss him too. I don't know what went wrong between you guys but maybe it's time to put all of that behind you. Good friends are pretty hard to come by."
I was saved from answering, or coming up with a tired adage to placate her, when I saw the realtor waving as she walked along the path and stepped onto the veranda.
"Hi, Gwen," said Mom, smiling. "This is my daughter, Vanessa."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Gwen. She extended her hand to me, and I instantly knew she was purely interested in business. "Beautiful house you have here. I can see it has great bones despite being a little the worse for wear."
"Thank you. It'll be better than new again very soon."
"About that..."
"I haven't decided if I want to list it yet," I told her. "I'm not sure I will now."
"It must be a hard decision. I'm here to discuss a potential sale with you but not quite in the way you might think. Could we talk privately?"
"Of course. Come inside. Mom, you too," I said, inviting the two women into the house. Instead of going into the kitchen, I thought Gwen Cooper might appreciate the formal living room. As she looked around appreciatively, I knew I got it right.
"So many original features," she said. "This house has been exquisitely looked after. A little dated in the décor, perhaps, but that's not a big issue."
"Vanessa's aunt treasured her home and she lived here for many decades," explained Mom.
"And you're sure about selling it?" asked Gwen.
"Not, but it's a possibility," I said. The idea of staying was not new and had entered my head several times already. I couldn’t decide on it. It would be sensible to explore my options more fully. Even as I thought about it, a lead weight dropped in my stomach.
"Well, then, you might be interested in the proposal I have for you. My client has asked me to make you an offer before the house goes on the market. It's a very competitive offer and it would spare you the trouble of contacting a realtor for a listing. I have all the details of the offer here and I can assure you it's genuine. There is a small stipulation required, but you might find that even more appealing if you're really eager to move on." Gwen reached into her purse and produced a typed sheet of paper. She passed it over to me, waiting as I read it.
"Is this a real offer?" I asked, looking up.
"Absolutely. This is a serious offer."
"What is it, honey?" asked Mom.
"Gwen's buyer is making an offer to buy the house as is and including all the contents. All the contents?" I clarified, looking at Gwen.
The realtor nodded. "It's an offer for everything in the house except for your personal items. Furnishings, linens, everything. I understand you plan to leave the city and move away so this would save you the bother of hosting an estate sale or having to sell the items individually, assuming you don't plan to take the items with you. I'm sure th
at can be negotiated, however, if you choose to keep some special things."
"No, I probably wouldn’t take much," I said.
"Then this could be the perfect solution for you!" smiled Gwen. "It will save you a lot of time and hassle."
"That doesn't sound so bad. I read some of the small print," said Mom. She handed me the offer letter after she read most of it. "This is a very reasonable offer although I think the house is worth much more."
"I agree," said Gwen, surprising us both. "I can see you're already doing some work on the property but the terms stipulate that all work ends upon acceptance of the offer. The buyer would continue the renovations at their own expense and to their own specifications. That saves you whatever you planned to spend on the renovations and repairs. Any potential buyer would factor in those costs during negotiation."
"I've already started doing the repairs," I told her.
"I can see that and it looks good already. However, that wasn't in the small print. I'd like to draw your attention to the final point in the letter."
I searched the page and found it. "The offer will only last for twenty-four hours. It says as soon as the offer is accepted, all work ceases and I have exactly forty-eight hours to take whatever I want to keep and vacate the property."
"It's an unusual offer but my client is very keen to get moving on it. You won't have to do any further work or deal with storing or moving the contents, and you could have the full amount in cash by the end of the week."
"It's a lot of money," said Mom.
"May I ask who the buyer is?" I asked.
"I'm not permitted to release my client’s name but I can assure you the buyer is a local resident who has wanted a house like this for a long time, so they're very eager to settle this matter with you."
"I need to think about it first." The uncomfortable feeling that developed in my gut hadn't vanished. I arrived with the desperate attitude that I had to sell the house at once and get back to my real life. Or what I thought was my real life. This offer gave me the opportunity to do that immediately. I could be back in my car with a full bank account and no hassles by the end of the week! It was everything I thought I wanted. But the idea of locking the house up for the last time and in only a matter of two days was too much to comprehend. "I'll call you," I said, sticking out my hand to shake Gwen's.
Alibi in April (Calendar Mysteries Book 4) Page 15
