“Maybe not today,” Janet suggested. She shut the box quickly, hoping her sister might forget about the boring task of sorting someone else’s old paperwork into some sort of order.
Janet was disappointed to find that the third box was more of the same. “Surely she could have at least sorted this into categories,” Janet grumbled as she riffled through old bank statements and grocery store receipts.
“Like we do?” Joan asked with a laugh.
Janet shook her head. She knew that somewhere in the handful of boxes the sisters had brought with them was one box that was full of nothing but unsorted paperwork. Both she and Joan always intended to go through it and file everything neatly into separate folders, but neither sister ever seemed to find the time to get the job done. Instead, box after box got filled with papers. When they’d moved, they’d sent several boxes of older papers away to be burned.
“Maybe we should just turn them all over to Gavin,” Joan suggested. “He can have the fun of looking through them all.”
“He’d just burn the lot,” Janet said.
“And that would be bad because?”
“You never know,” Janet said. “There could be information about past guests or even about our ghosts.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Janet wished she could take them back. Joan’s reaction was pretty much what she expected.
“Our ghosts?” Joan asked. “Surely you don’t believe such nonsense?” Joan gave her a piercing look. “Who’s been telling you about ghosts?”
“Stuart just said a few things,” Janet answered. “I gather, from what he said, that Margaret Appleton believed in the ghosts. I just thought there might be something in here that gives us more information.”
“To entertain the tourists with, you mean,” Joan suggested.
“Exactly,” Janet agreed eagerly. One look at her sister’s face told her that she hadn’t fooled Joan. Janet didn’t really believe in ghosts, but she was more willing to consider the possibility of them than Joan. She’d heard the screams, after all. If there was anything in the paperwork they’d found that could tell her more about that, then going through them would be well worth it.
Janet carried the box of metal bits down the stairs and put it on the kitchen table. Joan followed with the two boxes of papers. Then the pair inspected the boxes that Joan had found. All three contained papers, and Janet swallowed a sigh as they opened the last box.
“More papers,” she said. “Going through all of this is going to be a job.”
“I suppose something in one of the boxes could be what Gavin is after,” Joan said. “Maybe there are valuable stock certificates hiding in between the credit card statements and the telephone bills.”
“Maybe,” Janet said doubtfully. “What about the box of metal parts? Do you think that’s what Gavin wants?”
Joan shrugged. “I don’t know, I suppose it could be.”
“Maybe we should take that box to the police,” Janet suggested. “I can’t imagine we have any use for it. Perhaps Constable Parsons will know what all the bits are.”
“Let’s take it now,” Joan replied. “Then, when we get back, I’ll make dinner.”
Chapter Seven
The Doveby Dale branch of the Derbyshire Constabulary was housed in a tiny building that had once been a miner’s cottage. A sign on the front gave the hours that the building was staffed.
“That seems foolish,” Janet remarked as they walked from their car to cottage door. “Surely they’re as good as telling the criminals when there won’t be any police about.”
The cottage had originally been one large room, but now it was partitioned off into a tiny reception area with two offices behind it. Janet felt claustrophobic as soon as she stepped inside the front door. She imagined that she would confess to just about anything if she’d been forced to spend any time in one of the tiny and enclosed offices.
“Can I help you ladies?” A middle-aged woman was sitting at the reception desk. She’d been knitting when the sisters arrived, but she put her needles down and looked at them expectantly. Her hair was platinum blonde and her eyes were a lovely shade of green.
“We’d like to see Constable Parsons, please,” Joan told her, setting the box on the desk.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but he isn’t here right now. Did you have an appointment?” the woman asked.
“No, I didn’t realise we needed one,” Joan replied.
The woman chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t, at least not normally. But we’ve had a call about a missing child, you see, so Robert, er, Constable Parsons is out investigating.”
“A child missing from Doveby Dale?” Janet asked.
“Indeed,” the woman replied solemnly. “I don’t know if you heard about the little girl who went missing in Clowne a short time ago, but there are similarities between the cases.”
“And that little girl hasn’t been found yet, has she?” Janet held her breath as she waited for the reply, hoping she was incorrect.
“No, she hasn’t,” the woman answered. “Her mother is quite frantic.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Janet told her, shaking her head.
“If you absolutely have to see Constable Parsons, I can ring him and see when he thinks he might be back,” she suggested.
“Oh, no. If he’s looking for a missing child, that’s far more important than what we wanted,” Joan said firmly. “We’ll just leave this with you and you can tell him all about it.”
“What is it?” the woman asked, a worried look on her face.
“We’ve just purchased Doveby House,” Joan told her, adding their names to the introduction.
“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you,” the woman replied. “I’m Susan Garner. I do hope you’re going to get the bed and breakfast up and running again quickly. Margaret Appleton used to sell my crafts for me to her guests.” She gestured towards the knitting that she’d put down on the counter. “I wasn’t getting rich, but it was a nice little bit of extra income for me.”
Janet and Joan exchanged glances. “I didn’t realise that the previous owner did that,” Janet said. “It may be a while before we get the place open for business again.”
Susan nodded. “Well, when you do, I’d love it if you’d display and sell some of my blankets and jumpers again.”
“Of course we will,” Janet assured her.
“Margaret kept ten per cent of the sales, which seemed more than fair to me,” Susan continued.
“I’m sure we can work something out once we get back in business,” Joan said, clearly putting an end to the topic. “When we were going through the house we found this box of car parts,” she told Susan. “We wondered if this is what Gavin Appleton is after. He seems quite determined to get inside the house.”
Susan opened the box and looked inside. “Are you sure they’re car parts?” she asked, poking a finger randomly into the box.
“No, not at all,” Janet replied. “But we thought they might be and that Constable Parsons might know why Gavin wants them.”
Susan shrugged. “I’ll have him take a look when he gets back,” she said. “I know there was a case in Derby a few years ago where a garage owner was making cheap car parts himself and fitting them, while charging his customers for proper parts from the manufacturers. It was only when the parts started falling to bits and causing accidents that someone figured it out and rang the police. Maybe Gavin is doing something similar in his garage. Robert can certainly check it out.”
The sisters went back to their car and headed for home.
“She was very nice,” Janet commented once they were underway, with Joan at the wheel again.
“Yes, and her knitting was lovely,” Joan replied.
“I didn’t get a close look.”
“I did. She’s very talented. I can see why Margaret was willing to sell her things at Doveby House.”
“But we aren’t necessarily going to be taking on paying guests,” Janet said.
/> “Once we’ve figured out exactly what we are going to do, we’ll have to talk to Susan again and then go from there.”
“Do you think that Gavin’s making his own car parts?” Janet asked.
Joan shrugged. “I don’t know. There were a lot of nuts and bolts and screws and things in the box. Maybe he’s making those sorts of little things.”
“I can’t imagine there’s much money in nuts and bolts,” Janet mused.
“But neither of us knows anything about cars,” Joan pointed out. “I don’t even go over the bill when we take the car to the garage for oil changes and the like. Maybe we’re paying a lot for little bits and just don’t realise it.”
“So maybe we should visit Gavin again,” Janet suggested. “We could have a look around the garage and see if there are any suspicious looking parts.”
Joan laughed. “That is one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard from you, little sister,” she said. “We wouldn’t know a badly made part from a brand-new one from the manufacturer. What would we even look for?”
“I don’t know,” Janet admitted. “But we could have a look around.”
“How exactly?” Joan asked. “If Gavin is there, he isn’t exactly going to take us on a tour, and if he isn’t there one of his intimidating apprentices will be, or the place will be shut.”
Janet didn’t answer, but her mind was racing. There had to be a way to snoop around the garage. She just had to figure out what it was.
Back at Doveby House, Janet paced around in small circles in the library, thinking about Gavin, while Joan made dinner. After they’d eaten and Janet had washed up, the sisters settled in to watch a bit of telly and relax. Before the programme they planned to watch had even started, though, they heard someone knocking at their door.
“Who could that be?” Joan asked as she got up from the couch.
“Maybe Constable Parsons came over to talk about the box we left for him,” Janet suggested.
Both sisters were surprised to find Michael Donaldson on their porch.
“Mr. Donaldson, do come in,” Joan said.
“I hope I’ve not come at an inconvenient time,” the man said as he stepped inside. “I’ve been meaning to come over for a chat for days but I’ve been rather busy.”
“You’re always welcome,” Janet assured him.
“Oh, thank you kindly,” the man beamed at her.
“Would you like some tea and biscuits?” Joan asked. “I baked shortbread and oatmeal raisin biscuits today.”
“I don’t want to cause you any bother,” Michael replied.
“Oh, please,” Janet said with a laugh. “We bought a bed and breakfast so my sister can bake for more people than just me. Come and have tea and biscuits. We’ll never eat everything she made today and she’ll be baking more tomorrow.”
In the kitchen, Janet filled the kettle while Joan piled biscuits onto a plate. Within minutes the trio was seated around the table enjoying their snack.
“These are very good,” Michael said after he’d had one of each biscuit.
“Please, take more,” Janet suggested. “And then you can tell us all about yourself.”
“That seems a fair trade,” Michael replied, his eyes twinkling. He ate his way through a couple more biscuits, washing them down with tea, before speaking again.
“I haven’t had a very exciting life,” he told them in an apologetic voice. “I was born and raised in Doveby Dale and aside from university, I’ve never really left.”
“It’s a lovely place,” Janet said.
“It is,” Michael agreed. “My wife was from the village as well. We met in primary school and started dating when I was sixteen. I never really dated anyone else. We got married as soon as I graduated from university. Unfortunately, we were never blessed with children, and my wife passed away a few years back.”
“What did you study at university?” Janet asked.
“I trained as a chemist,” he replied. “I had my own little shop in the village for nearly forty years, but I retired last year and shut the shop.”
“We’re both retired as well,” Janet told him. “We were both primary schoolteachers.”
“And now you’re going to start a bed and breakfast,” Michael said. “Are you fulfilling a lifelong dream?”
“Yes, rather,” Joan answered, earning a surprised look from Janet.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask,” he said. “I’m usually home and often bored. Being retired is rather dull. This last week I was filling in at one of the chemists in Derby. I do that from time to time.”
“That’s very good of you,” Joan said.
“I was thinking that I should find a part-time job,” he told them. “Just a few hours here and there, but something to get me out of the house. I don’t suppose you’ll need someone to help with serving breakfast and the like?”
Janet and Joan exchanged glances. “I don’t think so,” Janet said after an awkward pause. “I mean, we haven’t actually given the business side of things any real thought.”
“I’ve given it quite a bit of thought,” Joan said sharply. “But we have some way to go before we’re ready to start taking on guests. We will certainly keep you in mind if we find that we’re needing additional staff, as we go on.”
Michael smiled. “Good, well, I suppose I should be getting home. It’s getting rather late.”
The sisters walked him to the door, where he paused.
“I don’t suppose, that is, well, I was wondering, that is, Joan, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.
Joan flushed. “I don’t know, that is, um, we’re just getting settled in and….”
Janet held up a hand. “She’d love to,” she told Michael. “You can pick her up at seven.”
“Smashing,” Michael replied. He thanked them for the tea and biscuits and disappeared down the steps towards his home.
Janet shut the door behind him and turned to her sister. “Well, he’s very nice, isn’t he?”
“He asked me to have dinner with him,” Joan said in a weak voice.
“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time,” Janet said brightly.
“I’m not,” Joan answered. She grabbed Janet’s hands. “I’ve never been on a date,” she reminded her. “I don’t know how it works.”
“It’s just like having dinner with a friend,” Janet told her. “You eat, you talk, you laugh, that’s all.”
“But he isn’t a friend,” Joan snapped back.
“Not yet, but I think he will be,” Janet told her. She looked at her sister’s face and sighed. Joan looked halfway between terrified and furious. “Let’s have some more tea,” she muttered.
Back in the kitchen, Janet pushed Joan into a chair and then refilled the kettle. She busied herself with meaningless tasks until the kettle boiled and she could make the tea. She put a great deal of extra sugar in her sister’s drink before she handed it to her. Anything that might help sweeten her sister’s mood was worth trying.
“I’m sorry,” Janet began with after she sat down across from Joan. “I shouldn’t have just agreed on your behalf like that, but you were babbling and I thought the poor man needed an answer.”
“You should have said no,” Joan told her quietly.
“Why? He seems very nice and he must be smart if he was a chemist. What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know, but there must be something or he would have asked you out and not me,” Joan said sulkily.
Janet shook her head. “Don’t start with that,” she told her sister sternly. “You could have had lots of dates when you were younger, but you never gave anyone a chance.”
“It was more fun watching you go out with every man you met,” Joan shot back.
Janet laughed. “I had lots of fun, but never got serious about anyone,” she replied. “I didn’t want to get married and be expected to give up teaching to raise a family.”
“I didn’t either, so it wa
s easier to not even date.”
“But dating was really good fun,” Janet told her. “And now we’re both retired, so we can date as much as we like. We could even get married if we wanted to.”
Joan shook her head. “I’ll have dinner with Michael tomorrow since you’ve told him I would, but then I’m done. One date in my lifetime is more than enough.”
“We’ll see about that,” Janet answered.
Chapter Eight
Joan was less certain about even having that one date the next day. Janet felt as if she spent all of the time from lunch until seven o’clock talking her sister into going.
“This is a bad idea,” Joan said as the sisters waited for Michael to arrive.
“This is one dinner, two hours, out of your life,” Janet said for the five-hundredth time. “Just go and have fun and stop making such a big deal out of it.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Joan muttered, plucking at her skirt.
“Stop fussing. You look lovely,” Janet said soothingly. She took both of her sister’s hands and looked into her eyes. “Really, you look wonderful, and you’ll have fun, I promise.”
“Make sure your mobile is on,” Joan told her. “I might want you to come and get me.”
“Do you want me to ring you every half hour to make sure things are going okay?” Janet asked.
“Would you?” Joan replied.
“No,” Janet said firmly.
Before Joan could argue further, someone knocked on the door. Janet watched all of the colour drain from her sister’s face. She shook her head and headed towards the door.
“You’re way too stressed about a simple dinner,” she told Joan just before she opened the door.
Michael stood on the other side, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“Ah, good evening, Janet,” he said with a small bow. “These are for you.”
He handed Janet the flowers. She took them, feeling confused.
“I remember you said that Joan does most of the cooking,” he told her. “I figured you deserved a little something for my making you get your own dinner tonight.”
The Appleton Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella Book 1) Page 6
