Opera House Ops: Episode 1 - Breaking In: A Morelville Cozies Serial Mystery

by Anne Hagan

  Opera House Ops

  Episode 1 – Breaking In

  A Morelville Cozies Serial Mystery

  Anne Hagan

  To Mrs. Rotunno for words of praise that sparked a lifelong passion for writing

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Jug Run Press, USA

  Copyright © 2016

  https://annehaganauthor.com/

  All rights reserved: No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed or given away in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without prior written consent of the author or the publisher except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages for review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are actual places used in an entirely fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1 – Church?

  Friday June 5th

  The Morelville General Store

  “Good morning Faye,” Marco greeted his daughter’s mother-in-law.

  “Good morning yourself. Just getting in from your walk, I see?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded and tapped his chest. “The doc says I gotta take better care of the ticker. We weren’t busy so Chloe sent me off to get a lap of the village in.”

  Faye smiled. “What did that take you, ten minutes?”

  “More like twenty. I got to talking to a fellow once and I stopped again to have a closer look at that old church down the street here too.” He jerked a finger to his right, toward the back of the store.

  “Church?” Faye’s expression was puzzled.

  “I think it used to be a church; the all-white building with a kind of steepled looking false front and stained glass windows?”

  “Oh, you mean the old opera house.”

  “The what?” He looked surprised.

  “Opera house. It’s one of the oldest buildings left in the village. Back in the early 1900’s when it was built, I’m sure it was the place to go on Friday and Saturday nights for all the oil men that settled in the area.”

  “Opera?” Chloe asked, interrupting, as she came up front from the back of the shop. “I just can’t see that kind of thing around here then or now.”

  “Think of it more like a music hall and you’ll get the picture,” Faye said.

  Husband and wife both nodded but then Chloe asked, “What’s it used for now? I mean, I never see anyone in or out of there.”

  “I don’t rightly know, to be honest. Thirty years or so ago it was owned by one of the heirs to one of the founding fathers of the village and it was still used from time to time for programs and such. I know about twenty years or more ago, when someone was threatening to tear it down, old Papa Brietland convinced the owner to let him take out a 25 year lease on it and he was using it for storage and keeping it maintained but, heavens, he’s been dead for thirteen-fourteen years now.”

  “Well, someone’s been in there,” Marco said. “That’s why I was looking at it. The bottom portion of those windows open out and one of them was propped with a rock wedged between the window and sill an inch or too.”

  “That’s odd. Why would anyone do that?” Chloe asked, searching Faye’s face.

  Faye shrugged. “Did you look inside?”

  Marco’s face turned slightly sheepish and he stammered, “Actually, yeah. The window will open out about a foot. I could get my head up under there and look in a little. Couldn’t see much though…stained glass doesn’t let in a whole lotta’ light. The side by the windows looks pretty empty; just some theater type chairs in rows but they’re all pushed together.”

  “Brietland never took anything out of there, least not that I know about,” Faye said, “but I know he stored an antique truck in there for a while. That’s why instead of a normal front door, it has that slider and that concrete ramp leading up to it.”

  Chloe shook her head as she clucked her tongue. “Such a shame that a building like that is being used as a garage.”

  “Maybe not anymore,” Marco replied, “but I really couldn’t tell.” He turned back to Faye. “Do you think we should let Mel know someone may be messing with the place?”

  “She’ll be by after work to lend us a hand with the final touches for Hannah’s grand opening tomorrow. I’ll run it by her then. Don’t you let me forget!” She wagged a finger at him.

  Chloe looked at her husband. “Not to change the subject but I really would like to get back there with Hannah. She’s gotten to fretting about this and that. Do you have this up here?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Go, Go!” he waved a hand toward the bakery taking shape in an unused area off the back of the store his wife had originally intended to use as a nail salon before she threw herself into the store, village life, decorating homes and the whole nine yards of things she’d gotten herself involved in since their semi-retirement.

  ###

  “Hannah, everything looks amazing!” Mel looked around appreciatively as the younger woman beamed and her mother and mother-in-law stood by doing the same. “It doesn’t look like you’ve left anything for me to do.”

  Hannah blushed and then tipped her head toward Chloe and Faye. “They’ve worked really hard setting up out here over the last few days while I worked on the kitchen and, of course, Mr. Rossi helped with too, when he didn’t have any customers up there.”

  “Did someone who’s supposed to call me Marco just speak my name in vain?” Marco Rossi asked as he came through the now shared stockroom from the store side of the building. “All closed up for the night,” he directed at Chloe before turning back to the young baker.

  “Sorry…Marco,” she said.

  Grinning, he waved her off and asked instead, “Why don’t I smell anything baking?”

  His wife swatted his shoulder lightly. “First things first. Dana’s got dinner ready for everyone, you too, and then the three of us,” she said as she pointed at herself, Faye and Hannah, “are coming back to bake into the night when it’s cooler and so everything’s fresh for the opening tomorrow.”

  “I volunteer to be a taste tester,” Mel replied.

  “I second that!” Marco said.

  Chapter 2 – Developer Shmeleper’

  7:35 PM, Friday, June 5th

  Sheriff Mel Crane’s Home

  Morelville, Ohio

  Marco pushed his plate forward, picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “Dana, he said, you’re really coming along – no offense – that was really good.”

  Dana smiled at him but shook her head. “None taken but, frankly, I can’t take all the credit. Our resident chef here,” she held a hand toward Hannah, “put some of it together this morning and left me detailed instructions for the rest.”

  “Ah, but you did the work, and all while taking care of an infant,” he reminded her.

  Hannah laughed at their exchange as she spoon fed mashed rice to her son Jef. “I learn stuff at school and then I come home and practice on these guys a lot and Dana helps. She’s more involved than she’s saying.”

  Jef beat his little hand down on the highchair tray to get his mother’s attention and everyone chuckled. The five month old was already becoming a real eating machine.

  Jesse Crane looked across the big dining table at his own daughter. Never a man to mince words, he asked Mel, “What’s up with you?”

  “What? Nothing.” She half shrugged a shoulder in her dad’s direction. />
  “You’ve hardly said a word.”

  “If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle,” Faye admonished him.

  He ignored her as Mel finished chewing the bite she’d taken in the meantime and responded, “Now that the weather’s finally broke, it’s just really busy, is all. Seems like everybody’s trying to pull some kind of con right now. We’re being overrun with petty crimes.”

  “That reminds me,” Faye interrupted her daughter, “Marco found a window propped open at the old opera house this morning. We thought you out to know.”

  “Probably just kids messing around,” Mel said as she pushed her own plate away. She missed her nephew Cole’s furtive glance her way before he dropped his eyes and feigned more intense interest in his own plate than he already had shown.

  “Mrs. Stroud called us earlier in the week about seeing a couple of boys trying to get into that old, wooden Baptist church that’s mostly all boarded up. I’ll check it out in the morning before I head to the station.”

  “Thanks sweetie.”

  Mel nodded to her mother. “No problem.” She looked hopefully back and forth between Dana and Hannah and then back to Dana. “Is there any dessert or do I have to haunt the bakery tonight while they all throw down in there?” Both of the other women laughed.

  “Your dad,” Dana said, “brought homemade ice cream.”

  “Really?” Mel shot Jesse a look and, when he nodded, she rubbed her hands together with glee.

  “Cole and Beth helped me churn. Ain’t up to cranking that old thing the way I used to be.”

  “One of you two,” Faye pointed at her grandchildren, “need to run a plate up to your mom at the station. She needs to eat too.”

  “Aww, Grandma, and miss the ice cream?” Beth whined.

  “It’ll be here when you get back.

  “I’ll do it Cole volunteered. I don’t want any ice cream right now.”

  “Now I can’t go and guarantee there’ll be any left ‘later’ if that’s what you’re thinking!”

  “It’s okay Grandma.”

  Jesse shook his head. “What’s gotten into you boy?”

  Cole knew better than not to answer. “Nothing Papa. I’m just full, is all.”

  Chloe stood up then from her seat next to Marco. “Why don’t you all go out to the front porch? We’ll get this cleaned up and then bring it out and visit a few more minutes, then there’s real work to be done.”

  ###

  “Not to be nosy,” Marco asked Mel, “but do you know who actually owns that opera house building?”

  She paused with her spoon in midair and looked thoughtful for several seconds. “I really think it’s held in a private trust; probably something set up by Breece Lampert, before he died years ago.”

  “Lampert? That’s not a name I’ve heard around here before.”

  She shook her head, “It wouldn’t be. The Lampert family is old money from out of state. Came here for the oil boom and built half the town but none of them are around anymore.”

  “Passed stuff down for a coupla’ generations but sold most of what they owned right after the last Lampert, Breece III died and then they moved on,” Jesse offered.

  “Your mother seems to think a guy named Brietland had a lease on it,” Marco said.

  “She’s right. Papa Brietland, as he was known, was another of the original settlers of the village. He did have a lease on it while he was alive but I doubt it’s still in effect. He’s been gone a long time. There isn’t anything any of the remaining Brietlands would want it for.”

  “Seems a shame,” Marco shook his head.

  “You want it for something?” Jesse asked him.

  Marco shot him a look. “I’d think there’d be all sorts of uses for an old concert hall.”

  “Naw,” Jesse said. “We turned that old school into a community center…got an auditorium in there.”

  Chloe, Faye and Hannah filed out the door and onto the porch.

  “What are you all getting up to out here?” Faye asked. “How’s the ice cream?”

  “It’s good,” Mel said. “We were talking more about the opera house building, is all. Marco here wants to buy it.” Mel tossed her head his way and grinned.

  “Oh no you don’t Marco Rossi!” his wife stood one hand on her hip while she waved the finger of the other hand at him.

  “Now Chloe,” he backpedaled as he held up one hand while he clutched his bowl with the other, “she was just kidding.”

  “Wouldn’t do you any good to try, anyway. If it’s for sale,” Jesse said. “I hear told that Kent Gross wants that property. He tends to get what he wants.” Jesse left it go at that but his expression showed his distaste for the man.

  “Gross? What’s he want with that old building? That’s not his style at all.” Faye’s tone was indignant.

  “I imagine,” her husband replied, “he’d tear it down. He keeps talking about putting a bed and breakfast or some such thing in town.”

  “All he thinks about is development! He never stops to think that some of us like things here just the way they are. We don’t want to grow any bigger and, and…and, he can’t just tear a building like that down. It’s part of our history!”

  Chloe put a calming hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’ve really grown to like this little village over the last several months and I wouldn’t want to see that happen either. That building is historical. If it comes to that, I’m sure we can do something to make sure it’s preserved.” She drew in a breath. “Unfortunately, we have work to do for now and we best get to it.”

  Faye nodded.

  “Is Dana going over to help?” Mel asked the little knot of women still standing where they’d all stopped.

  Hannah responded, “No. She’s giving Jef a bath for me and she’s going to put him down for the night.”

  “If you don’t need my help, I think I’ll go and relieve her then.”

  “No; you have to work early in the morning and that would be nice, give her a little break…you both have been so good to us.” Hannah gave Mel a small smile.

  “He’s a good baby and no trouble at all. You just get yourself over there and bake some good stuff for your opening. I’m only pulling a half shift tomorrow. One of my Lieutenant’s is covering the rest. I’ll be by to buy up whatever’s left when I get off duty.”

  Chapter 3 – Bake Break

  10:47 PM, Friday, June 5th

  Hannah’s Homemade

  “Whew! Thank goodness these are all done.” Faye slid the large loaf tray out of the convection oven and into a rack to cool. She mopped at her brow with the back of an arm. “I’ve never made so many loaves of, well anything, all at one time.”

  “This is nothing,” Hannah said. “I mean, Dana and Mel bought me some really nice stuff to get started but you should see the set up at Adornetto’s. They have more ovens and racks and stuff than in my classroom at school!”

  “Yes, but they have the restaurant, the bakery, they supply stores like mine…or they did supply mine, anyway. You know what I mean,” Chloe said.

  Faye stood fanning herself, not really listening. “It’s so hot in here. I think I’m going to step outside for a minute if you two don’t mind; catch a breather.” She picked up her water tumbler and headed toward the rear exit.

  Faye stood in the shadows out away from the back door. A dim security light was on over it, its glow drawing in mosquitos and other summer insects. She didn’t want them getting any part of her.

  As she breathed in the cool night air and sipped her water she was, at first, oblivious to anything else around her but then she heard the sound of gravel crunching under foot. She paused and stayed still and watched out toward the road that ran alongside the store and bakery building.

  A man, walking slowly along the edge of the road, came into view. Seeing him clearly but only for a moment in the dim light from over the door that highlighted him briefly as he passed, she knew right away that she didn’t know him.

&nb
sp; He was tall and thin and not at all dressed for the warmth of the early summer weather. Even though the air had cooled off with the fall of night, it was still over 60 degrees out; warm enough for most to go without any sort of a coat or even a long sleeved shirt but he wore a heavy wool suit jacket that had seen better days over a collared shirt. He also had on dark colored long pants and a ramshackle top hat that was only just perched on his head. His attire reminded her of what a professor or a doctor of old would have worn in a disheveled, dirty sort of way.

  When he’d passed out of the light and continued on without even glancing her way, Faye craned her neck to try and make out his features again, this time from his profile but she still couldn’t place him. She stepped out of the shadows and walked toward the road, her eyes following him as he continued down the street.

  He walked past the homes along behind the store that faced the road, past an alley that opened onto it and past a couple of more homes before he was almost out of her sight. She took steps to follow along but then thought better of it, not knowing if he might be dangerous to her or hear her and feel her to be a threat to him.

  Almost gone from view, she’d nearly given up and turned back toward the bakery, when she caught a flash as he turned abruptly to the left, stepping off the road. She could just make him out as he made his way toward the side of the opera house and out of her view.

  Now she was torn. Should she follow and see if it was he that was entering the structure or should she go back inside, call and rouse Mel from sleep to have her go and investigate.

  In the end, she decided to leave it until morning. The vagrant wasn’t harming anyone and was probably only looking for a place to sleep sheltered from the winds and rains that could punctuate early June in Ohio. She made a mental note to herself to ring Mel up early about the man and remind her of her promise to check the building. It was better safe, than sorry.