“I think originally it was probably six or eight individual rooms, and at some point, they were combined into two apartments, and then an attempt was made to make it into one large living space. It really was too large, so I partitioned it off into the two spaces again, which made a lot more sense. My place is to the right and on the left is the other space that I was considering letting Julia live in.
We went into my apartment which was really a large studio apartment. I explained the different things I did, which included new flooring, new appliances, new bathroom fixtures, some sheetrock and paint to make it livable.
“It’s very cozy in here,” he said, looking around. I remembered all the information I had on my desk and made my way over there to turn papers over before he could see what I was working on. “I don’t see anywhere a heating unit could possibly even be; maybe on the other side, although there is no venting from there to here that I can see. You didn’t notice any ducting when you did the work in here?”
“Nope, nothing at all. There is a wood stove on the other side, too. I assumed that is all anyone had that lived up here before.” I walked him across to the other living space that was just an open area. I explained that I was going to do the same thing on this side as I did on my side so Julia would have a place to live.
“The only way out is through the bakery?” he asked.
“Currently, yes. There is a back stairway that looks like it would come in right between the two apartments, but it’s all boarded up. I told Julia I would have someone come open it up if she moved in here so she wouldn’t have to go in and out of the bakery all the time.” I walked over and showed him where I thought the door would come through.
We went back downstairs for a cup of coffee and to figure out what to do about the lack of water and heat. Toby made a few phone calls while I warmed up some leftover soup for lunch. We ate quietly watching the snow coming down outside.
“The weatherman said this is supposed to clear out by late afternoon and the next few days are supposed to be sunny,” he told me.
“That is good news, right in time for the weekend,” I smiled.
“Are you ever closed?”
“Yes, I’m closed on Mondays and Tuesdays during the winter, and just Mondays once the weather changes in the spring.”
“My dad never closed the store. He was open every day, rain or shine or snow, year-round. The only days he was closed were Christmas and Easter,” he sighed, as he remembered spending all those days with his dad at the jewelry store.
“What did you do there all that time?”
“I dusted and swept every morning and every afternoon. When there was school, I would come in and do homework, then read. I did a lot of reading.”
“I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been for you,” I said to him.
“I guess I really didn’t know any better; for a long time I thought that was what all the kids did. Once I got to high school and there were sports teams and clubs, I realized I wasn’t normal,” he shrugged.
“Your circumstances weren’t normal; I’m sure you were fine, you just didn’t know any different.”
“Thank you for that,” he replied. “I’m going to get some of the things around here fixed; I just don’t know how fast I can get someone here to do the water heater, and I’m sure the furnace is going to be a bit more involved.”
“I appreciate it. I can’t be closed, but I can’t be open without hot water, either. I do a ton of dishes every day,” I sighed, unsure of what to do. “I suppose I can take all the dirty dishes upstairs and wash them where there is hot water, at least that way I can be open.”
“I’m totally on board to help any way I can, I’ll even do the dishes if you want,” he offered.
“Why? Why would you be so willing to help? You don’t know Paula or me, you have no investment here,” I asked, wondering what he was really doing.
“Honestly, I feel terrible that you had to deal with the old man for so long. I know it wasn’t easy and I’d like to try and right some of his wrongs.”
“You don’t have to take responsibility for his misdoings; you weren’t here, you had no control over it.” I tried to ease his mind.
“But I do own the buildings, so it is up to me to make sure they are safe and in good working order. If there is anything else you can think of, let me know. I’ll try to get someone in here Monday while you are closed. For the weekend, however, I am at your beck and call, so put me to work.” He made a show of bowing to me while he awaited his first assignment.
We worked out a plan for the coming week that would keep the bakery operating and keep Paula’s shop open. By late afternoon the water defrosted so I was able to get things ready for the morning. With better weather promised and it being a Saturday, there was a high probability that the bakery would be busy. I taught Toby how to set up the sourdough starter and explained how many loaves of bread I would need to bake as well as how many rolls, scones, and muffins.
“You have quite the operation here. I’m amazed how much you do,” he said, as he wiped his hands on the apron I gave him. I had to take a second look - somehow, out of nowhere, there was a really nice looking man standing in my bakery and wearing an apron with a bit of flour streaked across his chin. I could tell he was trying, but I still didn’t trust him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Chapter 17
“Look, I can’t thank you enough for all your help today and for fixing things around here, but I don’t feel right about any of it,” I blurted out without thinking.
“Why?”
“Because, well, I did something I’m not proud of, and your helpfulness is making the guilt in me grow, and I can’t stand it,” I sighed. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, he was being too nice.
“What did you do?” he asked, as he took a cup of coffee and sat down at one of the tables.
“Um, you see, I was the one in your house the other night when you got home. I’m sorry, it was wrong of me, I know that. You can turn me in if you want, I understand.” Whew, I was glad to have that off my chest.
“I know,” he said.
“You know? How do you know?”
He laughed. “I watched you and Paula leave the pizza place. I got there as you were walking out and I thought I might catch you, so I was going to run up the street, but Paula didn’t stop at the bakery. She kept going. I knew then that something was up, so I got back in my car and followed you. I waited until you figured out how to get in, then pulled in the driveway.”
“You’re a jerk! You’ve known all along but didn’t say anything?”
“I wanted to see if you would admit to it. What I don’t understand and can’t figure out is why. I’ve told you everything, answered all your questions, yet you felt the need to go snooping.” He shook his head.
“Your story has holes in it, and I think you might have had something to do with your father’s death,” I told him, without actually meaning to.
“Me? You think I had something to do with offing the old man?” he laughed.
“Why not? You hated him, and it was obvious he was becoming an inconvenience to you. You, yourself, said you came back to deal with him.” I stumbled over the reasons why I thought he had something to do with the murder. They made sense in my head, but when I heard them out loud, they weren’t very solid reasons.
“Yes, I did hate him, and you’re right that he was becoming a thorn in my side, but I never would have killed him. I came back to decide if I should pack him up and move him to Wyoming with me.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “The Sheriff kept me informed of all the old man’s antics; he said he went by his house a couple weeks ago and there was no food in the kitchen and the house was filthy. He felt it was time to intervene. Either I needed to come deal with it, or he would call in social services, and they would deal with it. I decided it was best if I took care of everything myself, so here I am.”
“Did you really get here the morning after he died, or di
d you get here before?” I had to have some answers to the questions Paula and I had.
“I got here late in the afternoon on the day he died. I thought he would keel over when he saw me on his doorstep - instead, it just turned into an argument. He said he forgot something at the store and that when he came back, he didn’t want me at the house. He left, I took a look around, and then I went into Reno to a hotel for the night.” He explained why he wasn’t around at the time of death. “Yes, I can show you the hotel receipt if you really feel like you need to see it.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this. When you left here you probably never intended to come back, and now here you are.”
“I won’t lie; I never thought I’d see the old man again, and I honestly didn’t care,” he shrugged.
“But the books and the internet print outs in the house, all about poison and murder. If you didn’t kill him, why would you have all that? No normal person has a pile of books like that,” I questioned him, still not believing he was innocent.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m not normal,” he chuckled.
I instantly became scared. He was going to kill me now.
“Relax. I’m not a killer, I’m a writer,” he laughed.
“A, a, a writer? Like books?” I stuttered.
“What else would you write? Of course, books.” The sarcasm was back, which made me feel like maybe he wasn’t going to be mad about Paula and me breaking into his house.
“Okay, smart ass, I guess I wasn’t expecting to hear that, so I was caught a bit off guard,” I admitted that I was pretty taken aback, hearing that he is a writer.
“What do you write?” I asked him with genuine interest.
“Mysteries and Thrillers.”
“Research materials - that’s what I saw. That makes sense.” I thought about the various types of research material I had on hand. “So, are you published?”
“Yes, I am. Several books as a matter of fact,” he admitted.
“Anything I might know? I read a lot of mysteries, but I’m sorry to say I don’t recognize the name.”
“I write under a pen name; maybe you’ve heard of Josh Samuels?” he asked.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and now I knew why he looked familiar. Holy cow, one of my favorite authors was sitting here in my little bakery offering to do dishes for the next two days.
“Seriously? Okay, bear with me while I have a fan moment. I knew you looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I’ve read all your books and can’t wait for the next one to come out,” I gushed like a teenager.
He laughed, “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He looked slightly embarrassed by the attention.
“I have so many questions but, man, you have more than a few books published. There must be at least forty books.”
“Count them later when you go upstairs - I think you have them all,” he laughed, teasing me over the fact that I did indeed have all of his books. It didn’t surprise me that he noticed them; I would imagine an author could spot his books anywhere.
“You saw those, huh?”
“You have a rather large and eclectic collection of books. Very impressive,” he complimented.
“What can I say, I’m a bookworm. Always have been,” I admitted, as I thought about the teasing I had endured my entire life. ‘Where’s Abby? Off with her nose in a book? Abby always has her nose in a book, and her head in the clouds.’
“Nothing wrong with being a bookworm or a nerd. I have a rather large collection of books; I don’t even want to think of having to pack and move them,” he sighed.
“Moving?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I don’t know what to do about the properties here, and now that I’ve been here, and dad is gone, it might not be a bad place to relocate,” he shrugged.
“I’m sorry for sneaking into your place; I obviously had no right to do that. You’ve been very open and honest with me which makes me feel like even more of an ass,” I apologized again.
“I don’t blame you for being curious. Honestly, I probably would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes,” he said to me in such a way that I started to believe his sincerity.
“About your dad - I didn’t have anything to do with his death. He was a miserable, mean spirited, gruff old man, but I would have never hurt him,” I told Toby, hoping he would believe me.
“I know you didn’t.”
“It seems that the Sheriff believes I could have done it and without any proof that I didn’t, I don’t know how to change his mind,” I cried. I’m not sure why I cried, but I did.
“Hey, come on, no tears. We’ll figure it out.” He patted my shoulder, unsure what else to do.
We worked on cleaning up the bakery and making sure everything was ready for the morning, since the water pipes thawed we took all the dirty dishes upstairs to wash where at least there was hot water.
“I’m sorry I have to have a nerd moment, but seriously, Josh Samuels the famous mystery author is in my kitchen doing dishes. I don’t think this is a moment I’ll ever forget,” I smirked. I knew I was acting like a teenager and at that moment I didn’t really care. I’ve never gotten star struck and having lived in the San Francisco Bay Area most of adult life, I have encountered my fair share of movie and television stars.
Toby walked over to one of my bookshelves and took out his latest book, turned it over, and held it up so the picture on the back cover was near his face. Then it dawned on me why I thought he looked familiar but didn’t recognize him. He was sporting a close shaved beard, and in the picture, he was cleanly shaven. But there was no denying who was standing in my apartment.
I grabbed a pen off my desk and asked him to sign the book, then we went back to washing the dishes. We took everything back downstairs, and I let him out the front door with the promise that he would be back bright and early the next morning. As soon as I knew he was gone, I grabbed my phone and ran upstairs to tell Paula about the day. I knew she would want to know what was going on and, being an avid mystery reader herself, I also knew she would flip out to find out who Toby’s alter ego is.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chapter 18
“Would you like to work with me to figure out what happened to the old man?” Toby asked the next morning, as we were getting the bakery ready for the day. True to his word, he was waiting outside at 5 am when I made my way downstairs with Frosty.
“Do you have any ideas on where to even start since we agree that neither of us had anything to do with it?”
“Not really; I’m not familiar with all the players, but I did find some interesting papers at the old man’s house last night,” he told me, just before we were bombarded by Julia and a friend of hers.
“I thought it might be busy today, so I brought back-up with me,” she said, as she introduced her friend Kayla to us. Kayla was going to run Paula’s shop for the day while Julia and Paula’s daughter worked on making candy, under Paula’s direction. It was complicated, but it would work. The girls had some coffee and a muffin before they went to open Paula’s shop. As soon as they left, we were inundated with customers. Between filling orders, running the cash register, and giving directions to him, we were too busy to talk about whatever it was Toby had found.
The time went by quickly, before I knew it, I was locking the door after the last customer of the day left with their bag of treats.
“Wow, I’m beat,” Toby said, dropping into a chair. “How do you do that every day?”
“Julia is magic in here - without her, I struggle.”
“I can’t imagine doing that by yourself; we could have easily used a third person today.”
“It was a good day, definitely a profitable one, which is good after yesterday.” I handed him a cup of coffee and joined him at the table where he was relaxing.
“What did you find last night?” I asked before we got interrupted again.
“When I got home last night, I decided to make some
more progress in filling the dumpster. I did a lot before I left; the old man really became some kind of hoarder. Anyway, for some reason, I thought I should make sure there was nothing in the attic and much to my surprise there were several old boxes of papers.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know, maybe my imagination got the better of me, but I don’t think my mom and dad were who they said they were.”
“I’m not following you, what do you mean they weren’t who they said?” I asked, confused by what he was trying to tell me.
“Do you have plans for the evening? I’d like to show you what I found. I’ll run down and pick up a pizza if you aren’t busy,” he offered.
I was intrigued by what he had to show me, and it would be nice to have company since Paula wasn’t able to get around very well.
“Sounds great. I’ll go throw some wood in the stove and get it warmed up a bit while you go get the pizza. Do you have the box with you?” I asked.
“Yes, I brought them. I parked right out front so if you can unlock the door, I can toss the boxes in here before I go get the pizza,” he suggested.
I guess I didn’t hear him when he indicated there was more than one box; there were three boxes of stuff. I took them upstairs one at a time while he went for pizza. Once he was back, I made sure the bakery was closed up for the night. There was no need to set out starter since I would be closed for the next couple of days.
While we ate, Toby started pulling things out of the boxes. The first thing he showed me was a marriage certificate from Chicago then three different birth certificates, all from Chicago, too. He explained that even though he wasn’t completely sure, he thought the papers indicted his parents had a life in Chicago before moving west to Virginia City.
“Wow, that is really strange,” I said, as I let go of the breath I’d been holding since he started showing me what was in the boxes.
“It could possibly explain why I have never been able to find a death certificate for my mom,” he theorized.
I grabbed my laptop from the desk and pulled up a genealogical research website. “Let’s see if we can find out who these people are.”
Murder on Main Street Page 9
