by Marja McGraw
On the left of the house were a living room, dining room and the old kitchen. That would be the main part of the restaurant. There was a fireplace located in the living room. That would stay. Then there was the archway with built-in bookcases on each side. If we took those out we’d have more open space. Davey said these weren’t bearing walls so it wouldn’t be a problem.
Chris had brought his flashlight and took Big D outside so they could access the cellar, while I walked around trying to picture the house with all of the changes we wanted.
I didn’t know if any of the other walls were bearing walls. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what a bearing wall was. My best guess was that a bearing wall was one that helped keep the building from falling down. I’d have to ask Big D.
“We won’t have any trouble finishing up that cellar,” Big D was saying as the two men walked around the front of the house. “Finishing that will be relatively easy. Putting in the shelves and storage cabinets won’t be a big deal either.”
“Chris,” I said, “I’ve had a thought.”
“Uh oh.” He looked at Big D. “Prepare yourself. This probably means more work.”
“No, just the opposite. I’m thinking we should leave the archway and the bookcases.”
“And?”
“No and, Bogey Man.” I stopped and thought for a moment.
“Look out, here it comes,” he said, again glancing at Big D. “I can hear the wheels turning.”
“Could we enlarge the archway a little and just move the bookcases?” I looked to Big D for my answer, who in turn glanced at Chris.
“Works for me,” Chris said.
“No problem,” Big D said.
I kept my thoughts to myself because the big lug had looked to Chris to see if what I wanted was okay. I sighed before I asked, “Are any of the walls we want taken out what you call bearing walls?”
“No,” Davey said. “The only bearing wall is one you’re leaving.”
“What is a bearing wall?” I asked.
“It bears weight so your ceiling and room won’t fall in, put in simple terms.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I’ll put the plans together and take them to the building department. I can’t see any problems, but we do have to have permits. I guess your business license and liquor license can be transferred to the new location, but that’s something you’ll have to check on. I don’t really know anything about that. Anything else?”
“Yes. The dogs were way too interested in the slab of cement in the cellar,” I said. “Can we take that out and see what’s under it?”
“Sure. I’ll have to take out both slabs of cement to put in good flooring,” Davey said. “Why were the dogs so interested?”
“I don’t know, but they kept scratching and pawing at the cement,” I said.
“Who knows why those cockamamie mutts do anything?” Chris asked. “I told Pamela there’s probably a stiff buried under the cement. She didn’t believe me.”
“Just don’t forget, Bogey Man, you’re the one who mentioned a dead body in the first place, not me. You put the idea in my head.”
Chris and Big D laughed over that one, looking at me as though I was a quivering little mass of femininity.
“I’ll help you get the cement out of the cellar,” Chris said. “We’ll see what had the dogs so interested.”
“Ha,” I said. “You’re not offering to help. You’re looking for a mystery to solve. That’s wishful thinking on your part.”
He shook his head and the two men walked back to the proposed bar and dance floor area, discussing what could be done. “I know where you can get your hands on a really cool antique oak bar,” Big D said. “It’s L-shaped and it’s cheap.”
“Cheap because it’s in bad condition?” Chris asked.
“Well, it does need work, but we can do it.” Davey wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t a good piece – that much I knew.
That was the last I heard of their conversation before picking up Chris’s flashlight and heading for the cellar. Of course I knew there wasn’t a dead body in the cellar, but Chris had perked up my curiosity. What was down there? What could the dogs have been so interested in? I’d just have to do a little investigating of my own.
At the bottom on the stairs I stopped and surveyed the room. After shining the light around, I glanced back at the door. It would need to be replaced with something sturdier. I didn’t want someone breaking in and stealing our supplies and wine. Chris thought I was too suspicious, but why take chances?
I walked around and shined my light into the corners and looked for anything that seemed out of place. Now why would I do that? Because I’d spent so much time around the Bogey Man and watching old movies with him. I was looking for clues without any reason whatsoever to do so.
I’d gone from being a mousy waitress wearing a uniform that was too big for me and working two jobs at a time to becoming a wife who’d finally had a chance to climb out of her shell. I actually had time to care about myself now, and Chris encouraged it. Unfortunately, he also encouraged my nosiness, or my desire to find a mystery. What could be the harm in finding a mystery in an old house? Chris and I could investigate together, have a good time, and no harm would come to us. It wasn’t like we’d be looking into something current, something that might involve danger to either of us. My life and interests had really changed since I met my husband.
I laughed out loud. What mystery? I was surveying an old cellar where my dogs had found a scent that interested them. The scent did not equate to a mystery. What a kluck I could be sometimes.
“Hey, cutie pie, are you down there?” Chris called from the stairs.
“I am,” I called back. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Well, don’t look for those dead bodies until I’m with you,” he yelled.
I heard Chris and Big D laugh.
Why would they think I was looking for something like that? Oh, yeah, I had come down looking for a mystery, but they didn’t know that and I’d never admit it to those two jokers. I suddenly wished I really would find a mystery in the cellar.
“By the way, Pamela, Sharon Stone is here,” Chris called down to me.
Oh, great. Just what we needed. Sharon would take the dead body comment and run with it. She had a reputation for wanting juicy stories. All I wanted her to do was write a story about the restaurant, and nothing else.
“I’m coming down,” Sharon yelled. “Shine your light on the stairs.”
Now why did “I’m coming down” sound like a threat? Because of the source?
Chapter Four
“Hi, Pamela.” Sharon stepped down the stairs. “I’m here to do the story you asked for. I talked to the Big Kahuna at work and he said because of the fire it might make a good starting-over story. So what’s this about dead bodies?”
“Nothing, Sharon. It is nice to see you though. Maybe you can help us get things up and running again.”
“But what about the bodies?” she persisted.
“No bodies. Our dogs were down here in the cellar and something got their attention. That’s all. Chris was joking about bodies.”
In the glow from the flashlight I could see the disappointment in her brown eyes.
“Oh well, for a minute there I thought maybe there was going to be something more interesting to this story. You know, I’m trying to get my boss to acknowledge that I’m a good reporter. Even though a local P.I. has given me a couple of good stories, he still doesn’t trust me. I just don’t get it.”
“I’m sorry, Sharon, but I don’t think our story is going to help you climb up the ladder.” Again, I remembered the warning about Sharon, which had actually come from the female P.I. she’d just referred to. Sharon was ambitious. She was looking for a story to take her to the top of her chosen profession, and she was pushy. Maybe even a little desperate.
“You look different,” I said, changing the subject.
“New hairdo and contact le
nses,” she replied. “I’m trying to change my image.”
Sharon was around twenty-three or twenty-four, if I remembered right, and she looked even younger. Or at least she used to. Between getting rid of her glasses and a shorter haircut, she appeared more mature. Her brown hair was highlighted now. She’d changed her manner of dress, too. Instead of a business suit and heels, her usual attire, she was wearing slacks and a silky blouse, and flat shoes.
Although about my height, she weighed less than me. I’ve been told I have a great figure, and she would too with a few added pounds. Okay, so my husband had paid me the compliment and he was no doubt prejudiced. I did have a movie star make a play for me once, but it turned out he was a big phony, among other things.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a light coming down the stairs. Big D had found another flashlight and was coming to join us.
“I thought I’d have another look at this cellar,” he said, keeping his eyes on Sharon. I was surprised he didn’t fall down the stairs. His gaze never wavered from her face. He joined us in the middle of the room.
Sharon lifted her head and looked up at him.
“Hi,” he said, his gravelly voice sounding deeper than normal. “I’m Davey Hampton.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sharon said.
“Davey, this is Sharon Stone, a reporter. She’s going to do a story on the fire and our renovations here. Hopefully this will help us build up our clientele.”
He didn’t respond, and I didn’t think he’d heard me until he said, speaking to Sharon, “Good. Then you’ll probably be working with me some of the time. I’ll be remodeling this place.”
Sharon didn’t respond either, but continued to look up into Davey’s powder blue eyes. “Uh huh.”
Oh, no! Not Big D and Sharon, I thought. We can’t do this to our friend. Sharon will chew him up and spit him out. She’ll use him and throw him away after she has her story.
I had to stop myself. I wasn’t being fair. Sharon was young, and there was a difference between a story and a romance. What romance? They’d just met. Oh, good grief. I was getting way ahead of things. Davey was going to meet and fall for Gloria. I just knew it. I’d have to tell Chris to get ready for a barbeque right away. Like maybe over the upcoming weekend. I made a mental note to call Gloria.
I tried to divert Big D’s attention. “Davey, come look at this barrel. What do you think might have been in it?”
He gave Sharon a last glance and walked over to me. Unfortunately, Sharon followed right behind him.
“I already looked at it, Pammy. It’s empty. I sniffed it, too, and I couldn’t smell anything unusual. It just smells musty.”
Davey was the only man I knew who called me Pammy, and he’s the only one who could get away with it. I like the name Pamela. But, then, Davey shortened most people’s names. I shrugged. If he had the chance to get to know Sharon better, she’d become Shar.
“Then what were the dogs so interested in?” I persisted.
“No idea. Maybe they got a whiff of whatever used to be in the barrel. They can smell things that I can’t. Did you tell Sharon about the dead bodies yet?”
Sharon straightened up and became overly attentive.
I cringed. “Davey, there are no dead bodies. Don’t get Sharon started. She’ll never let go.”
“Why, Pamela, whatever do you mean?” Sharon had the nerve to look innocent and hurt. I knew better because of the stories I’d heard about her. Of course, they were just hearsay. Maybe I’d actually insulted her.
I took a closer look at her and decided she was playacting. Her eyes didn’t look hurt or sincere.
“I mean that there are no dead bodies. It’s very simple. When we dig up the cellar, you’ll see for yourself.”
I hoped I was right. I’d hate to find anything to set her off.
“I’ll tell you what,” Big D said. “I’ve got a sledge hammer in my truck. I’ll go get it and we’ll break up this cement right now. Then you’ll all have your answer. Chris can help me.”
I sat down on the bottom step of the cellar stairs, feeling dejected. There would be no body and I’d be embarrassed because I felt so sure there would be. No body would actually be a good thing though. Right?
“Yoohoo, Pamela,” a voice called from above. I recognized Constance’s voice.
“I’ll be right up,” I yelled. “Come on, Sharon. You can meet my babysitter and friend.”
“Oh, goody,” she said sarcastically. “I think I’ll wait here for that big blonde instead.”
I turned and glared at her. This was not going to be a friendly business arrangement. I could tell already. “No, you come with me. The men can do their job and call us when they finish removing all the cement.” I grabbed Sharon’s hand and pulled.
“Hey, Mom.” I heard my son calling to me. Lousy timing. I didn’t want him here if Chris and Big D dug up something ugly.
Constance waited at the top of the stairs. “I picked Mikey up at school and brought him to see the new restaurant. Oh, and the dogs are busy claiming the trees.”
“You brought the whole crew. Well, let’s go inside and I’ll show you around. I think you’ll like our plans for the place.”
I began walking to the front of the house and noticed Sharon lagging behind. “Come on, Sharon. You’re doing a story on the restaurant, not the cellar.”
She reluctantly followed, mumbling to herself.
I saw Chris and Big D head for the cellar and walked a little faster. Of course I knew there were no dead bodies, but… You just never knew about these things. I rolled my eyes at my own thoughts.
We’d been through the whole house and I was explaining about the bar and dance floor when Chris stuck his head inside. “Pamela, would you come here for a minute?”
“Tell me you didn’t find anything,” I said.
“Just come with me.” He didn’t look upset, so I asked Constance to keep Mikey in the house while I went with Chris.
The dogs were now sitting at attention, one on each side of the cellar door. Their behinds were bouncing a bit, so I knew they really wanted to go downstairs.
Chris patted their heads. “Stay,” he commanded. “It won’t be much longer now.”
We climbed down the stairs and I saw that all of the cement had been removed and placed in a pile in the center of the cellar.
“Okay,” Chris said, “as you can see, there’s nothing here. We’ve broken up the cement and even shoveled some of the dirt. The dogs must have smelled something coming from the barrel. Now I’m going to bring Sherlock and Watson down so they can also see there’s nothing here.”
“Okay. I guess I was kind of hoping for a mystery of some sort, but I didn’t really want to find a dead body.”
Chris whistled at the dogs. “Come on,” he called.
The dogs came barreling down the stairs and went straight for the area where the cement had been removed – and immediately began whining and scratching at the dirt. They were intense. So intense that I was surprised.
“I don’t get it,” Chris said. “There’s nothing there.”
“I think there is,” I replied. “Try digging a little deeper. Those two don’t get excited about nothing. You know them that well.”
“Yeah, I’ll even help dig,” Sharon said, her voice coming from behind me. She tapped my shoulder. “You didn’t think I’d stay upstairs, did you?”
“I guess not,” I replied. There was always hope, but not with Sharon around.
“We’ll do the digging,” Big D said, staring into Sharon’s eyes. “There’s no reason for you to get those nice clothes all dirty when we can do the job.”
I rolled my eyes again. My mother used to tell me not to do that because some day they’d get stuck that way. That thought made me roll them all over again.
Chris picked up his shovel and began digging. Big D disappeared for a minute and returned with a rake. As Chris dug, Big D raked the dirt aside. They were no noises except the sounds of the digging
and raking.
“Mom, what’s going on down there?” Mikey shouted from the top of the stairs.
“You stay up there, young man. Don’t even think about coming down here. We’re working and I don’t want you to get in the way.”
“Awww,” I heard him mumble.
“Is Constance up there with you?” I called.
“I’m here, Pamela. What is going on down there?”
“We’re just checking something out. I’ll be up in a few minutes. Why don’t you take Mikey to get an ice cream or something?”
I could hear the sound of running feet as Mikey headed for Constance’s car. How well did I know my son? Well enough to know that ice cream would get him moving.
“We’ll be back in about half an hour,” Constance called down.
“Okay.” That took a load off my mind.
“I’ve found something,” Chris said. He stopped digging and squatted down to see what was in the dirt.
“Well?” Sharon asked impatiently.
“It’s just an old milk bottle,” Chris replied, setting it aside. “Pamela, can’t you get the dogs to settle down?”
They were more impatient than Sharon, bouncing from foot to foot near the digging.
“Sherlock! Watson! Come,” I commanded.
With a glance at Chris, they reluctantly turned and trotted over to me.
“Sit,” I ordered. They did, but only barely. I didn’t think their behinds were probably touching the ground. Sherlock barked.
“Okay, pal, I know you’re excited, but stay right here.” I patted his head and doubted he even felt it.
Big D raked more dirt. “Here’s something else,” he said, picking up a small item. “It looks like an old-fashioned coin purse.” Big D was into antiques of all kinds. I trusted his opinion.
