Alarmed at the sound of a nearby car engine, the pitch of Piper’s voice rose. “I heard a car pull up and I think it parked. Lock the door, quick.”
“Just to be safe.” Lily snapped the latch and looked out the window. “Oh my, look at that, a waving wall of orange wings.”
“I believe monarchs are magical,” said Aggie.
“Think of it. Thousands of amazing creatures migrating to our pines and eucalyptus.” Lily leaned against a bookcase. “Nothing bad should happen when the butterflies arrive.”
“Tell that to Maxine.” Piper continued pacing up and down the van. “I don’t see anyone coming, but I want things normal again. Know what? I’m driving into Groverly. I’ll buy something pretty to cheer me up. Maybe stay at my cousin’s for a day or two. When things go wrong, go shopping, I always say.”
“Come on, when there’s trouble, I say go home.” Aggie grabbed Lily’s arm. “We’ll take the side road that passes the flower fields.”
When the bookmobile door opened, Jamison tried to see through the distraction. A blonde left and he waved his hand toward her, but the monarchs did not part. She ran across the square and unlocked the Cut & Curl. Through a pattern of wings, two other women left. One was older and the other one was the pretty woman from the Hopper. Her hair glinted in the sun and her step was quick and light. She drove off in the pickup with the older woman. The serious-faced person from the driver’s license did not exit the bookmobile. To make certain, he scrambled through the wings and tried the door. It was locked. Damn. He shrugged over his stupid assumption. The attractive woman was not a long-lost relative. That was Lily. He’d been too intent on the driver’s photo, relied too strongly on the description given at the library and by her neighbors. For whatever reason, he’d not been thinking straight and he knew better. Women change their attitude as well as their hair color and cut.
Perhaps because of the migration invasion, there was no traffic on Main Street. He noticed a woman in a gray hooded wind-breaker sitting on the bench in the square. She was watching the bookmobile or watching the butterflies or watching him. For whatever reason, she was the first person from Nolan he’d seen stop to rest there.
He went to his room to conduct his daily global network search of recent rare book offerings. Online, the coroner’s report on Maxine Morton blipped into his mailbox. Cause of death: accidental. The rushed autopsy showed a heavy dose of sleeping pills in her blood. It was determined she was groggy when she discovered the break-in, lost her balance and cracked her head on the iron stove. Whether she’d interrupted the intruder was not addressed.
Even though he might or might not accept the death as accidental, it didn’t explain the rash of break-ins and vandalism in town. If the intruder had found the stolen book at Used Stuff, the crime wave in town might be ended.
Fred cleaned his pickup in front of the service station, deep in thought about the recent puzzling events in his life. When a car pulled up, he looked over and saw a woman using her credit card at the pump. He kept working.
“Hey, you there, you lived around here long?” she asked.
He turned. “Yup, all my life.” He moved the big sack of dog food from the bed of the pickup and discovered the plastic bag Piper had left for him to return to Jeremy. He took it to the cab and looked at the take-out cartons on the passenger side. Opening the toolbox on the cab floor, he gently laid the package on top and closed the clasps, then took an armload of food cartons and dumped them in the garage trash.
The woman inserted the refill hose back in place and called out. “I’m interested in that bookmobile in the square. Has it been in town long?”
“Not too long. Why?”
“I might be in the market for a vehicle like that. Do you know what hours it’s open?”
“Whenever the owner wants to open, I guess.”
“So it’s definitely a person who owns it, and it’s not connected to the county in any way?”
He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure. Are you some kind of cop?”
The woman pulled up her gray hood, and sped off.
Fred shrugged and drove off in the opposite direction to return the package to the Hopper. He planned to catch up on crime wave news. But the bar was shut tight.
The man dressed in dark coveralls slipped into Aggie’s garden and went directly to the area that grew the herbs he needed. With a gloved hand, he pulled several leaves off some of the plants and broke off several stalks to make a bouquet. He stuffed the stolen herbs in a paper bag and left in a hurry.
Flat on a bed of small saws, the Book of Cures soaked up the weight of toolbox darkness. For thousands of years, surrounded by the aroma of wine, now the book moved from the odor of dry dog food to the scent of motor oil. In Fred’s souped-up machine, the grumbly sound of the muffler vibrated the floor of the truck. The seal inside shook in time with the engine. Looser. A little looser.
In a morning filled with white clouds and sunshine, Aggie weeded the garden. She frowned over the lovage plant. Most of it was broken off. She worked her way down the rows. Suddenly, her hands began to shake. Someone had been there. Stripped the leaves off monkshood, foxglove, and belladonna plants. For some reason, this thief not only wanted lovage, but worse, needed poisons from her garden.
With the citizenry in shock, a black veil dropped over the town of Nolan. People gathered in knots, murmuring about the barrage of crime in town. They plodded through the streets with heavy hearts and heavy boots, suddenly suspicious of one another. At night, they locked their door. Stores closed. People carried weapons.
CHAPTER 27
Sax moved back to the apartment above the store. He lost interest in buying and selling old furniture. He packed up Maxine’s things and dropped them off at Salvation Army. When he found a framed picture of her, he hung it near the store entrance and bought one of Boris’s windup caged birds to serenade his store of discards and hand-me-downs. He scrubbed the floor plank where she died and bleached it, but the spot didn’t match, so he threw a rag rug over it. Mornings, he threw the windows wide open to air the store. He sat at the office desk and pushed chess pieces around the board. Made plans. Made better ones.
When Boris offered him several sharp daggers for a good price, he copied the Emporium setup, hanging the knives on a golden cord that stretched across the new cork wall of the office. Every day he cleaned the daggers until they shone, then attached them back on the display hooks that wavered along the rope. To pass the time, he practiced the art of the throw. It was only when the tin bird sang that Sax relaxed, listening to the automatic melody, flicking knives at the big scrap piece of cork.
Aggie tapped on Lily’s door. “If you want, I offer you another kind of ride to town. Why not borrow the farm’s moped? It would give you freedom to come and go at will.”
“It sounds easier and cheaper. Show me how.”
“Not so hard. Even I ride it.”
Lily took a seat on the red motorbike, and under Aggie’s directions drove the moped around the yard, touring the fence line, making smaller and smaller circles in the drive.
“Hey.” Lily hollered and parked. “I’ll take a trial run to town and get the feel of it on the road. Maybe Jeremy’s back from the funeral.” She waved goodbye. “Maybe people are recovering from the shock of Maxine’s departure.”
“Sometimes the engine starts hard. Be careful not to flood it.” Aggie gave a nod and watched the moped jounce down the country road toward town.
Within minutes, Griffo’s roadster roared up and he stood wild-eyed before her. “On my way here, I saw someone riding my moped. Who the devil was that?”
“What do you mean?” Aggie went into the kitchen and took sudsy milk bottles from the sink. She rinsed them under cold water.
He pounded his fist on the table. “You sold my moped, didn’t you?”
“Did you sell the black cape?” She carried the bottles to the big sterilizer in the pantry. “Did you take monkshood leaves from the garden and ruin my lov
age?”
“I did not.”
“Swear to me you did not.”
“I didn’t sell the cape, and I didn’t take anything from the garden.”
Arranging the bottles in the machine, she flipped the switch and moved back to the kitchen counter. “Now then, the moped belongs to the farm, not to you, and I lent it to someone. I had no notion when you’d be back. Or if. I only knew some scoundrel took the farm vardo. Pilfered my remedy book. And stole the cape of my dead husband. Also ransacked the farmhouse and garage. As far as the poison herbs, you are now forbidden to touch anything in the garden.” She took crackers from the shelf.
“But I didn’t ransack anything and yeah, taking the book was a mistake, but I returned it. The vardo I borrowed, and the cape you’ll get back. You didn’t burn them after Cim died.” Griffo poked around the cupboards. “I always thought you’d give me the moped. Hey, I’m starving. How about a cheese sandwich?”
Aggie arranged leftover onion loaf on a cracked plate. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
He sat down at the table. “I’ve been thinking about moving back to my room. I could use a good night’s sleep and some of your cooking.”
“And you’d stay for how long?” She cut goat cheese squares for the center of the platter.
“I’m your nephew. Do I need to sign a lease?”
“No, you come and go like the weather and ruin things. That’s why you’re not welcome back and why someone else uses your room.” Aggie pushed crumbs from the counter into her palm.
Griffo jumped from his chair. “Well, giving away my room evens the score for the book and the cape. Where did you find someone to rent that room in this crummy town?”
“The woman who started the book club is there.”
“Tell her I want my room back. Tell her I plan to live there until the circus leaves for Groverly.”
“I can’t do that. Lily McFae is my friend and a real librarian.”
Electricity sparked in Griffo’s eyes. “Lily McFae? Was that who drove past on my moped? Is that the demon woman living in my room?”
“Watch your words. She’s my guest.”
“But that’s the one who stole the sapphire ring from me. She’s a crook.”
“Quit rattling on. You don’t know her. She’s from the city. She wouldn’t take anything from you.”
“Forget it. Now I know where to find her. Talk about a gypsy sign. Auntie, you just handed over my purple ring on a platter of goat cheese.” Griffo grabbed some crackers from the plate and flew out the door.
As Lily stood in front of the Hopper, excitement made her go limp. The sign was gone. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other to get her balance, then pushed open the door. The atmosphere of an empty bar hit her, the smell of yesterday’s beer and peanuts. Rows of bottles stood in front of the long, be-speckled mirror. Bar stools waited for the day’s customers and captain’s chairs grouped around dark tables kept silent vigil for Happy Hour.
“What’ll you have?” Jeremy Judd said.
“I’m Lily McFae, from the bookmobile.”
“Yeah, I know. You gals are a dandy group.”
Lily blushed. “Aggie told me she left a package here the other day and I’m here to retrieve it for her.”
“Yeah, when I wiped off the bar, I noticed that package so I took it over to Cut & Curl. I thought Piper could return it to Aggie at your next book club meeting. You know, I might have forgotten to tell Piper about it.”
“Yes, you did. Look, before I go, do you know the name of the tall gentleman wearing a tweed jacket the night we were here? He looked familiar.”
“Don’t believe I do.”
“No problem, thanks anyway.” She edged toward the entrance. “I’ll go next door and check with Piper.”
When Lily left the bar, she saw the woman in the gray wind-breaker sitting on the bench in the square. She’d noticed most Nolan people didn’t sit there. They just walked past it on their their way to the other side.
She hurried to the Cut & Curl, pushed open the door and smiled at Piper. “Oh, you’re back from Groverly. I’m so glad.”
Piper sprayed and rubbed at spots on the mirror. “Yeah, home again. Anything new and awful happen while I was away? Are you and Aggie okay?”
“We are. I’m here to pick up the package Jeremy left the other day. It was wrapped in newspaper.”
“I did have it, but why do you want it?”
“Because it belongs to Aggie, not Jeremy. Under that newspaper is the book we were talking about.”
“Darn it, I dropped the package off at the gas station. Told Freddie to return it to the Hopper.”
“Okay, I’ll get it from Freddie.” She started for the door.
“Wait a minute, Lily, can you postpone that until after book club?” Piper put down her cleaning rag. “There’s a secret I plan to tell you and Aggie at book club. It affects my marriage, about how to talk to Freddie. I need your opinion and Aggie’s on how to say things right. Now I’m thinking, after book club, you and I could go to the garage together for the package. Then, you could take it to Aggie, but I’d stay and talk. It would mean a lot to me, you know, moral support from a friend to get me there. I keep trying to talk to him, but it doesn’t work out. It means you’d have to wait for the package, but just for a little bit.”
Lily blinked. “Certainly, I can do that. For a friend.” And another stone slipped away.
On achy knees, Aggie examined every plant in the garden. Only the lovage and monkshood had been noticeably harmed. She hobbled to the kitchen and wound a red ribbon around her wrist, then cut two more red lengths and put them aside.
The man wearing the baseball cap watched Griffo drive away from the circus grounds in his roadster. It was hard to miss the gypsy wagon, even parked next to the circus animal trucks. With a few quick moves, he slipped in and dumped the gypsy’s life on the floor. No red book cover beckoned from the corners. No historical treasure peeked out from under the breadbox. No recovery of a special book worth millions to the pharmaceutical industry. Only a snake in a cage covered with a towel. The snake was a big surprise.
CHAPTER 28
Lily watched the butterflies lingering in the park. On the bench, the woman in the gray windbreaker sat staring at the bookmobile.
When Piper and Aggie arrived, Lily asked if they knew the woman, but neither of them did. Lily shivered and brought out a stack of old books to entice the members.
Aggie unpacked the sack of tea things and unscrewed the lid to the Mason jar. “Today I brought the jug and cups, but forgot the teapot. I’m a bit rattled, but according to our tradition, we still will begin with tea.” Pouring out of the jar, some of the tea splashed out of the cups.
“Oh, don’t waste any of the precious stuff,” said Lily.
“Sorry about that. Like I said, my nerves are jumpy.” Aggie lifted her arm to show the red ribbon tied around her wrist. “I want you to match mine.”
She tied a similar ribbon around the left wrist of each woman. “And I made sandwiches for each of you to eat later. All will be explained at the end of our meeting, but for now, enjoy your tea.” She handed out the brown bags with sandwiches tucked inside.
Studying the two women, Lily wondered about the effects of the elixir. Their systems had adjusted to the qualities of the tea, and they didn’t giggle as much anymore. She rarely wore her glasses and her face looked dewy-eyed in the mirror. Piper’s blotchy complexion had turned to clear ivory. Aggie’s fingers were barely swollen from arthritis, and she wore her braids down most of the time, letting them swing at her shoulders.
Lily tapped on her cup with a pencil. “Piper has something to say to us today. Go ahead and tell us what is on your mind.”
“Let me get myself together. I’ll talk later.” Piper held out her cup and when it was brimming, took a big swallow.
Picking up a slim volume, Lily took the reins again. “We’ll start with the reclusive life of Emily Dickinson. You’ve read
her poetry, but it’s good to know about the author.”
She glanced at the women as she talked. Although they seemed to listen to details about the life of the famous poet, an air of distraction settled in. She guessed they were allowing their minds to wander along paths of their own separate thoughts.
She cleared her throat. “Now it’s time to hear from you. I know you made a start early on, but let’s begin again with “Wild Nights—Wild Nights!” Lily read the poem and closed the book. “Think about her words. We can start with the title.”
“Something about the tea triggers waves inside me and makes the words spill from my mouth.” Piper put down her cup. “I know exactly what kind of times she meant. Once during a thunderstorm, when Freddie and I laughed and thrashed and rolled and kissed and I’ll spare the details, but when we were, you know, together, we got all wound up in the sheet and Freddie caught his toe in the bedding. When he tried to wiggle free, we rolled off the bed, all tangled up, and couldn’t get unhitched. He was yelling to high heaven and I was laughing. We found out later, he broke his toe and was in real pain. He rented crutches in Groverly, so he could move around the garage. When anyone asked him what happened, he just said, ‘Tripped and fell.’ I’d say that was one wild night.”
“And Emily Dickinson would probably agree.” Lily picked through the stack of books. “A night of love passionate enough to break a body part. Perhaps we’re ready to tackle something longer.”
Aggie poured the last of the lovely, green liquid.
Lily held up The Decameron. “Have you ever wondered about the power of sex?”
“Gypsies sing songs of it.” Aggie grabbed one of the scarves from the seat back, got up and waved it back and forth, creating a slow and flowing figure-eight. She sang words in a foreign tongue, moving back and forth to the rhythm. In a few minutes, she stopped and flipped her braid. “My song told of a passion so strong it disrupted the earth. Years back, after Cim and I had a wild night in the vardo, an earthquake was centered in Turkey. When we heard of it, we believed it was our fault. That together, we’d kicked up enough cosmic energy to travel across land and sea. Our passion that night measured four-point-five on the scale.”
The Erotica Book Club for Nice Ladies Page 22
