by Dale Mayer
She spied the partial lake view from where she stood. On the opposite side of the river were private properties. Million-dollar homes went from there all the way around the lakeshore. She walked forward, leaving the tool on the ground. Another twenty-five feet and, of course, the lake just opened out in front of her. “I wonder how popular this area was way back when, twenty years ago?” she muttered. “Or if these tools and tags were tossed when the parents disappeared, possibly fifteen years ago?”
She turned to look at her animals, but they weren’t leaving the tool alone. She smiled, walked back over, and picked it up, surprised at the hefty weight, and turned toward her home and her little bridge.
When she crossed the bridge, smiling at Mack’s handiwork to make the bridge safe and sturdy again, and came back into her yard, she felt a certain relief. She placed the tool on her little café table on the back veranda and walked inside her house. She still was amazed at the empty rattling sound as she made her way through the residence. She had minimal furniture, most of it now gone to Christie’s for the inevitable auction. And something was just so joyous about this emptiness. She walked around and opened up all the windows to let the breeze fly through the house. Curtains lifted, but so did a layer of dust, and she loved that. She wished the wind could go right from one side of the house to the other and take all the dust with it. Too bad that couldn’t happen.
Chapter 6
Thursday Midafternoon …
When Doreen’s phone rang again, she looked at it and sighed. “Hi, Mack.”
“Please tell me that you’re not in any trouble,” he said by way of a hello.
“What kind of trouble could I be in?”
“Somebody saw the gardener running away from you and Nan at the patio. Shouldn’t you be at home resting your ankle?”
“Darren again?” she asked, rolling her eyes. Another cop who worked with Mack and whose grandfather lived at Rosemoor. “And I am home. I just walked to Nan’s and back. A short walk to ease my ankle into the movements.”
“Well, Darren didn’t see it, but his grandfather did. Just make sure you don’t overdo it.”
“I didn’t see him anywhere.” She chose to ignore the rest of his comment.
“It’s quite possible he was inside Nan’s apartment,” Mack said delicately.
Doreen froze and then a sigh escaped. “Jeez, that meant he heard everything we talked about. Why didn’t Nan tell me he was there?” she asked. “I nibbled on a cookie outside on the patio for at least an hour. I hate to think he was sitting inside waiting for her.”
“I think he was trying to visit with her but didn’t want to disturb you two.”
“That’s just sad,” she said. “He’d have been more than welcome to join us.”
“Maybe he just wanted to get away from the nurses. According to Darren, they’re on his case about his diet.”
“Ha. He was probably stealing a cookie then from Nan,” she said. “They were huge and totally stuffed with chocolate chips.”
“It sounds wonderful. You didn’t bring a spare one home, did you?” Mack asked hopefully.
“I meant to bring half of that one home,” Doreen said regretfully, “but I ate the entire thing while I sat there talking with Nan.”
“So the gardener …”
“Well, he left us, but it had nothing to do with me or the animals this time,” she said. “Well, not directly. Thaddeus found these two little metal plates with dates and names on them, but the names and dates are hard to read. I took them with me when I went to have tea. I asked Nan, and she remembered something about the gardener’s brother, Frank, having a tool repair shop or some such thing and put these little tags on his creations.”
“Interesting.”
But she could tell Mack had already tuned out of their conversation. She smiled. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing okay,” he said. “I was just checking in to make sure you were good. Have you recovered?”
“Almost,” she said. “Last week I was begging for three days of peace and quiet, but today I found myself bored out of my mind.”
“You could try living with boredom,” he said. “It’s good for the soul.”
“No, it’s not,” she said, laughing. “I got out and started digging in my backyard, when Thaddeus brought me the first one of those little plate things.”
“They could be nothing,” he said.
“Well,” she said, her voice turning suddenly cheerful as she walked out of her kitchen, “I did find a tool. On the way back from Nan’s, we returned to where we’d found one plate. Out of the weeds and ivy that had taken over the area, I dug up something with a long handle, down near the mouth of the river.”
“Interesting. What kind of tool?”
“I’m not exactly sure. A sharp point at one end and more of a shovel blade at the other.”
“Huh.”
She could almost hear the frown in his voice. “It’s not like Nan’s old hoe, but yet it is somehow similar. But way heavier.”
“Somebody probably just left it behind.”
“That’s what I thought. Now I’m about to put on a pot of coffee and get back outside and start some more digging.”
“Any more thoughts on the deck?”
“Yes, but I don’t think I can do anything about it anytime soon,” she said regretfully. “Scott said they’re having to do some repairs on some of the furniture, plus the overall cleaning, and then the paintings needed a bit more in-depth cleaning as well, so it’ll delay them going into the pre-auction catalog. That’ll delay sales, which will delay me getting any money.”
“Huh,” Mack said. “I suggest we sit down, take a look at how much of the deck materials we might scrounge from other people, and, once we get enough of the parts and pieces, we can start your deck renovation.”
She liked the idea of that. “Do you think we can get any of these pieces and parts?”
“That’s why I’m bringing it up,” he said, “because one of the guys here said he had a bunch of cinder blocks he doesn’t need.”
“And he’s willing to sell them?”
“Possibly,” Mack said, “but I’ve helped him out a couple times at his place, so we might just grab them for free.”
Her face lit up. “Free?”
“That’s why I wanted to go over that plan of yours, to see just how many we needed.”
“I think I noted at least twenty.” Doreen walked over to the little corner of the kitchen where she had all her papers on that. She pulled out the pad of paper and said, “Yes, we’ve got twenty down here.”
“He’s got twelve,” Mack said.
“That would help a lot. We’d only need to get eight more.”
“I think I’ve got two around my place. I don’t know for sure. I thought I saw them a couple months back. Mom might have some too.”
“Wow. If we had those, we could get them in the ground and leveled off, ready for the next step, right?”
“Exactly. I’ll stop by after work and take a look at that plan of yours to make sure we have the right amount.”
“Sure,” Doreen said, “or maybe go to your house and your mom’s first and see how many you have.”
“They’re not very expensive, but, when you have to buy twenty, it can add up.”
“Any penny we can save is a huge help. By the way, Nan also sent me home with some vegetables. Honestly I didn’t have any clue what a zucchini looked like before she gave them to me.”
“Do you like zucchini?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever had it,” she confessed. “Except in bread. I took one, and then Nan tucked in a second little one and also a bunch of lettuce and some green onions and tomatoes.”
“Perfect,” Mack said. “You can use all that, can’t you?”
“At least the salad stuff I can, yes. I can’t remember what we planned to do for our next cooking-lesson meal together.”
“I don’t think we decided. Check what you’ve got in th
e freezer.”
“I will. Do you want to come for dinner tonight then?” She walked to her freezer and pulled out what looked like a pack of meat. “I think it’s pork chops,” she said. “They’re frozen though.”
“Too bad you don’t have a barbecue. We could do barbecued pork chops and zucchini strips.”
“Can you barbecue those things?” She walked to the paper bag and pulled out the zucchini. “It’s long and skinny. Do you bake it whole?”
He chuckled. “You can make thick slices, oil them, and put them on the grill. Or you can slice them and sauté them. All kinds of stuff you can do with zucchini.”
“I have a few mushrooms in the fridge too,” she said.
“Take out the pork chops to thaw, and we can have those for dinner. At least this way I can make sure you’re not involved in any new cases. Remember. You’re supposed to be recuperating, not getting into more trouble.” And, with that, he hung up.
She laughed. “Look at that,” she said to the others. “Mack is worried about us.”
Mugs woofed, and she noted he stood beside his empty food dish. “It is past lunchtime, isn’t it, buddy? I’m the one who ate a cookie, not you, and, from the looks of it, you are hungry.”
She fed him and then gave Goliath a little more dry food in his dish. Next, she brought out a few seeds to put down for Thaddeus. After that, it was time to feed herself. She returned to the fridge and opened it up. Some bread and cheese were left, and she now had fresh lettuce and tomato, so her belated lunch sounded like a sandwich for her. And she was totally okay with that. As far as she was concerned, a sandwich was a basic necessity of life. It didn’t mean other people agreed with her, but, hey, that was okay.
She made a sandwich and then sat down at the veranda table outside. The deck was too tiny for the café table, which was why she was desperate to build a proper one. She had the plans sitting beside her as she ate. Of course, she didn’t have enough information or DIY knowledge to figure anything out. She would have to wait for Mack to see what they needed, but, if they had twelve, maybe fourteen, cement blocks already, that was a great start.
She thought maybe she could get all the materials for the deck out of the money she’d sold the car parts for, but she was pretty sure that wouldn’t leave her enough to make it through the next few months while she awaited the Christie’s money. Sure, Mack would pay her a little bit for working in his mom’s garden, but it wasn’t enough to keep her in food. Nan had been extremely generous as well, but Doreen couldn’t spend that money on a deck renovation and not have enough to pay her utility bills, plus food for her and her animals, over the next three to four months.
Speaking of which, she walked back inside with her empty plate and removed the rest of the vegetables from the bag. As she upended the bag, something small fell out.
Chapter 7
Thursday Midafternoon …
Doreen picked up the item and groaned. “Nan, really?”
Nan was the sweetest woman alive, and Doreen hoped she was okay for money, but she kept putting things like this into Doreen’s pocket, and, instead of giving it to Doreen herself, Nan had put it in the veggie bag. It was, indeed, a roll of money. Doreen slipped off the elastic band around it and found two hundred and fifty dollars. She stared at the bounty in front of her in amazement. “Nan, I can live off of this for three weeks or more, if I have to.”
She unrolled them and put them underneath a book to stretch the bills out. Then she picked up her purse and took a look. She still had over four hundred in cash there, and she had just recently taken out the other five hundred she’d been carrying in her purse and added it to the bowl of money. She wouldn’t need much to get through a few months, but she didn’t have any way of planning for the unknowns that could pop up. And to take all her cash-on-hand money—all $2,150 approximately—and put it into something like a deck seemed extravagant. And stupid.
She was hoping maybe the books would have sold by now. She got five hundred for a couple chairs Scott had sold for her, and she had that money too. Matter of fact, she brought out her laptop and checked her bank account. She was doing okay, but it depended on if they could get any more donations toward her deck addition. That was where the real trick would be.
She really wanted that bigger deck. And she didn’t want to wait until next year. As it was, June was upon them. Doreen wanted to enjoy her new deck addition this summer. However, she may have to just wait for the next one instead.
She closed out of her bank account and searched for Kelowna Tool Repair. It took about thirty seconds, but none of the search hits were recent. The trouble was, there wasn’t any website, although she did find a notice in an old newspaper article about how the physical shop was closing down. She sighed at that and realized it would mean a trip to the library to get more information. Apparently the business had shut down almost fourteen years ago. She wrote that down and then the name Frank Darbunkle. She laughed at that surname.
“Who goes through life with the name Darbunkle?” But then that would mean it was the gardener’s name too. Fred and Frank Darbunkle. She shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”
She found no mention of a sister. She would definitely have to make a trip to the library after all. But, as she looked up, she noted her coffee had been sitting there, already brewed and waiting for her, and she’d gotten so involved in the Darbunkles that she’d missed pouring herself a cup while it was fresh and hot.
She did so now and brought the two little pieces of metal back over and checked into how they’d been used and why they’d been used. It took a bit of research, but she found it was a common practice for people who made tools to put a metal plate on them, usually with two nails to hold it in place, and that matched up with what she’d seen on these. She looked at various tools online, trying to figure out what the tool was she had on her back veranda. It was pretty dusty and covered in dirt, but, underneath that layer, it seemed to be stained and rusted. Still it was fascinating. It was heavy too.
She figured Mack would know but maybe not. It was old and used. Speaking of used, she remembered she had another source of money potentially. She picked up the phone and phoned the consignment store. As soon as Wendy answered, she said, “Wendy, this is Doreen.”
“Hi, Doreen. How are you doing?” Wendy said in a bright, cheerful voice.
“I’m doing fine. I was just wondering how we were doing for time and money?”
“Ah,” Wendy said. “Most of your stuff is moving. Obviously not all of it because you did bring me a lot, and more was left recently too.”
“I know,” Doreen said. “And I understand it hasn’t been ninety days yet. I was just wondering if I could look forward to any money at that time.”
Wendy chuckled. “Last we talked, I told you how we already had several hundred in sales, but I can tell you that it’s way more than that now. But, of course, it’s not all coming in ninety days though.”
Doreen tried to work her mind through that. “So, it’s ninety days after the sale, is that correct?”
“Yes. Ninety days after the month ends that the sale was made in,” she corrected. So that means, I will pay you for the first pieces sold in, say, roughly two months or so. And then there’ll be more every month after that. The first payment could be small, remember that.”
“Perfect. I don’t suppose …” and then she let her voice trail away. How small was small?
“You want me to find out how much I owe you already?”
“Sure. Would you mind?” Doreen asked. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“No, let me take a look,” Wendy said, silent for only a couple moments as she checked. “You’ve done very well. I owe you over two thousand dollars to date.”
Doreen gasped in joy. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously, but remember. You won’t get it all at once. The first batch isn’t bad though. There’s over six hundred dollars, but you won’t receive it for another roughly seven weeks.”
“Fine,” Doreen said, writing notes. “That at least helps. I’ll see the money coming then.”
“Exactly, so you’ll get your first payment in another seven weeks and then another in eleven weeks and then the balance in fifteen weeks roughly. Of course that’s just on the clothes you have turned in so far that have sold. And payment is always at the end of the month. And you can come down on the last day—or the first day of the next month is better for me.”
“Right,” Doreen said, understanding. “I suppose if I was early, you can just maybe take a moment and write a check for me?”
Wendy laughed. “Possibly. Do you have any more clothes to bring down?”
“I think there are some,” Doreen said. “I just haven’t had a chance to go through it all.”
“Considering that you’re doing as well as you are, why don’t you go through the rest of it, and then you’ll hopefully get money continuously, after your initial payment in two months, for the following three or four months.”
“Perfect,” Doreen said after thanking Wendy, and she hung up. “That would be possibly when I’ll get money from Scott too. That’ll be a big month for me.”
On that note, she went back out to the garage for some bags she had haphazardly put to the side to go to the charity. She loaded those into her car, so she could drop them off on her next trip to town.
But she still had stuff in her closets to sort, both in the master bedroom closet and maybe some undecideds in the spare bedroom closet. With a cup of coffee beside her, she decided she’d rather try on clothes and make more money reselling them than returning to work in her garden. So she slipped on and off the next four or five outfits and didn’t like any of them. She tried on another couple. One shirt was fine and a pair of pants too, but the other items weren’t for her. Several elegant dresses she had put off making a decision on, but they didn’t feel right, not on the hangar and not on her body.
