“Wow, that is quite the story. I actually didn’t have you figured out at all,” he laughed. “So where is Tim these days?”
“He’s still in the city. He’s a big hot shot corporate attorney. We divorced amicably after my trip up here that weekend. He wasn’t willing to make the changes I wanted to make, so we went our separate ways.”
“No kids?”
“Nope. What about you? Still haggling over money with your ex-wife?”
“Oh, the internet. What would we do without it? I’d like to say that was all fake news, but unfortunately probably most of what you read was true,” he sighed.
“Was she really that miserable living a quiet life on a ranch in Wyoming? I mean, she knew that is what it was going to be when she married you, didn’t she?” I asked. I’d read all about his nasty divorce online. He married later in life after he was already a highly published author; he lived on a working ranch in Wyoming and traveled around the country doing appearances and such. She complained that he promised her a glamorous Hollywood style life, and instead, she got animals and snow. It was actually quite funny to hear her complain about her life with him.
“She wanted Hollywood, and I’m nowhere even close to Hollywood. I do what my publisher tells me I have to do and go where I’m told I need to go. If it wasn’t for that, I would never leave the ranch. Of course, it’s the book sales that afforded me the ability to buy the ranch. So, no, we aren’t haggling anymore. I just wanted her out of my life, so I gave her a settlement and helped her load her car.”
“Good riddance; I’m glad that is over for you,” I told him. I couldn’t imagine living out the drama in public like he had.
“So, you fell in love with my old town. It seems strange that someone would want to come here, and I couldn’t wait to get away from here,” he said, quietly.
“It wasn’t the town you ran from, it was your dad. I decided on this place because I’m a total history nerd. I also, well, I, um, this sounds silly, I’m sure, but I always wanted to write novels and thought this place was a good place to do that. It’s so inspiring here.” I finally said it out loud to someone.
“You want to write books, huh? That’s pretty awesome,” he said, pulling me closer.
“I want to at least try. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” I shrugged, as the self-doubt started to creep in.
“What kind of books?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” I asked hesitantly.
“Of course; I won’t laugh. I know what it feels like to have people laugh at you and doubt you when you say you want to write books. I would never do that to a fellow writer.”
I took a deep breath, “I want to write a historical romance set, of course, here in Virginia City during the gold rush days.”
“That is fantastic - and using a real setting and a real time period requires a ton of research, so you are definitely in the right place for that,” he encouraged me, which is not what I expected. The one and only time I mentioned writing a book to Tim, a historical romance book, he laughed and told me that wasn’t a real book and anyone could write those.,
“Thank you for the encouragement and for not laughing at me,” I told him. I explained the reactions I received that had either discouraged me or made me keep the dream to myself. We talked about writing and publishing for a while as we sat uncomfortably on the floor in the corner of the dark storage room. As the room got colder we got sleepier, and pretty soon we both dozed off, awakened sometime later by the sound of boxes being shuffled around in the store.
Toby unwrapped himself from around me and started pounding on the door, yelling for whoever was on the other side to let us out. As soon as the door opened Toby grabbed the man by the collar and backed him up against the opposite wall.
“Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in here?” he yelled in the man’s face.
“I could ask you the same thing,” the man yelled back.
“Why did you lock us in the closet last night?”
“I didn’t know anyone was in there, honest. I stopped by, and there was a cold draft coming from the closet. I closed it so it wouldn’t be so cold in here this morning.”
“I’ll ask again, who are you and what are you doing here?” Toby growled at him.
“My name is Anthony, I was hired to come in here to inventory and appraise everything. Can you back off now?”
“I’ll back off when I’m satisfied with your answers, and right now, I’m not satisfied. Who hired you?”
“Tyler Prescott, an attorney,” he barked.
“Who is this Tyler Prescott representing?” Toby wanted to know.
“He works for a group of investors in Chicago. Now, please let me go and tell me who you are and what you were doing in that closet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Chapter 23
Toby and I looked at each other when the stranger said Chicago, “I’m Toby Sampson, the son of Mr. Sampson. I own this property, and you do not have my permission to be in here.”
“You can take that up with Mr. Prescott. I was just hired to do the inventory and appraisal,” the guy shrugged.
“I need to make some phone calls, but I need a shower and some coffee first. Give me your contact information, and when I have answers to this mess, I’ll let you know what is going on,” Toby grumbled.
They exchanged phone numbers. Without any more arguing, Anthony left with the promise that if things weren’t resolved by early afternoon, he was coming in to do what he was hired to do, and no one was going to stop him.
“I have no desire to stay any longer in this god-forsaken little town; I have a job to do, and I want to get it done so I can get back to modern civilization,” he said, as he left.
“Any chance you’re going to make some coffee?” Toby asked as we made our way to the front door of the jewelry store.
“Absolutely; come with me,” I smiled, as I unlocked the door to the bakery. I went straight to the coffee pot and started it brewing while I gave Frosty some much-needed attention. “I’m putting this in a to-go cup simply because it holds more than a mug. It doesn’t mean you have to go anywhere,” I said, as I poured the coffee.
“I do need to go. I really need a shower, and I have to get this latest mess figured out before that idiot comes back.” He took the coffee and smiled. “A contractor is supposed to be here in an hour or so to look at the back stairway, door, and the other apartment. Do you mind showing him around, or should I reschedule?”
“Go do what you need to do; I’ll show him around.” I unlocked the door so he could leave.
“Thanks, I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, then climbed into his rental car and drove away.
Finally, some alone time. I went upstairs, fired up the wood stove, and got into the shower to get warm, loosen my stiff muscles, and think. So many unanswered questions were rolling around in my head, and the only answer I really wanted was who really killed Mr. Sampson. Once that was resolved I could concentrate on everything else. Did someone in Chicago have something to do with it? Obviously, someone knew the old man and knew he was here. Could someone in San Francisco have had a hand in it or did that connection die when Mrs. Sampson died a few years ago? What about Stuart, right here in town, with his exotic plants? How about any number of other people that had run-ins with the old man over the years? There were too many possibilities at the moment, and I had no idea how to narrow down the list.
By the time I got out of the shower and got dressed I only had about twenty minutes left before the contractor was due to arrive. I decided I would pack up some of the pieces of information, and notes I’d made, and my laptop, and sit in the bakery for the day. That way I could at least try and make progress on this entire mystery while the contractor did his thing, plus, it was warmer downstairs with the new furnace.
I was shocked to see Paula waiting outside when I reached the bottom of the stairs, “What in the world are you doing out here?”
&n
bsp; “Waiting for you, of course. I sent a text saying I was here,” she laughed, as she hobbled into the bakery and sat down.
“How’s the ankle?” I wanted to know. I grabbed the pot of coffee and a mug for Paula and joined her at the table.
“It feels fine. It’s a bit stiff now from not being on it. I just couldn’t stay cooped up in that house any longer, so I thought I’d venture up here and see what is going on,” she said excitedly.
I spent the next hour telling Paula about the boxes Toby, and I found next door in the storage room and upstairs. I hesitated to tell her about being locked in the storage room overnight; I knew she would read more into it than what there was, but since I knew I would eventually slip up I went ahead and told her.
“We just talked, that was it. I told him about Tim and moving here. He gave me the inside scoop about his divorce. I fell asleep and woke up when that assessor started moving boxes around. That’s it, end of story,” I shrugged, and poured another cup of coffee.
“You mean I risked life and limb to come see you, and that is all you have to tell me?” she laughed. I knew she wanted to hear that while we were locked in the storage room, we fell madly in love and couldn’t keep our hands off each other, but that wasn’t the case.
“If you want romance you’re just going to have to wait until my book is published,” I teased her. I knew she would be a fan, probably my only fan but at least someone would read it.
“Did you tell him about the book?” Paula wanted to know.
“It took me a while, but I did tell him.”
“And what did he say? I hope he didn’t laugh,” she sighed, thinking of the reaction Tim had when I told him what I wanted to do. Paula never met Tim, but she sure didn’t like him.
“He was very supportive and encouraging. I’ll admit it was sure nice to hear, especially from someone who is as popular as he is.” I grinned, thinking of Toby’s reaction to my wanting to finish the novel I was currently working on.
“And as handsome,” she added.
“Here’s an idea, why don’t you ask him out,” I suggested, half kidding, half serious.
“Oh honey, a man that handsome and famous would never be interested in an old lady like me. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it, but then reality set in,” she laughed at herself.
I asked her what she thought about the options I had for the bakery. “Toby is willing to pay for whatever I want to have done with that space in the back; I just don’t know what the best option is.”
“All the options could lead to more sales, I think. Now, I wonder what he would be willing to do in my shop,” she wondered out loud.
“I’m sure if you took him over there and point out things that needed fixing, he would make sure it got done. It’s too bad he isn’t here right now with the contractor,” I advised her.
“It is too bad,” she said dreamily. I couldn’t help but laugh at her. She was so fickle and turned so easily for a handsome face.
When the contractor came back from looking at everything, he asked if I had a key to the candy shop. Paula and I looked at each other.
“Mr. Sampson asked me to get a key from you so I could check a few things in there for him,” the guy said.
“This is Paula - she owns the candy shop. I’m sure she can tell you what is wrong in there and show you the different things. I take it you are giving him a bid for everything in both buildings?”
“Yes, and a few things in the jewelry store,” he told us.
I said good-bye to Paula and locked the door after they left. I thought maybe I would finally be able to make some progress on the research I was doing when I saw Toby pull up outside. I watched as he got out of his little rental car, put his hat on and walked away from the bakery. I figured he was going to Paula’s shop or the jewelry store to talk with the contractor.
He had no idea I was watching him which gave me a bit of time to really look at him. Paula was right, he is hot. No doubt about that, in his Wranglers, boots, flannel shirt, and cowboy hat. If he wasn’t a jerk half the time, and if he was sticking around, I could maybe, possibly, be interested. But it’s a two-way street, and he would have to be interested, and as of now, he’s given no indication that he has any interest in me beyond my research and coffee making skills.
A knocking on the door brought my head out of the clouds; I’m sure I turned fifty shades of red as I looked up and saw Toby standing there looking in.
“I guess you two already met; anyway, Travis is going to be doing all the work around here on all three buildings. I can’t believe how bad the old man let them get,” he shook his head.
“I’m going to start with that back staircase and entrance since that is a major safety issue.” Travis went down the list of things he would be working on.
“Wait, what did you say about cellar access?” Toby stopped him.
“Oh, over in the jewelry store, the door that leads down to the cellar needs to be reinforced before someone goes through it,” Travis explained to a dumbfounded Toby.
“Can you show me where the door is? I’ve never seen it,” Toby asked. He motioned for me to go with them to look at the mysterious door. Travis showed us the door in the floor behind the counter that held the cash register and where the majority of the business was conducted every day. The door was covered with a rug and other than a slight squeak and sagging common in old buildings, no one would ever know it was there.
“It looks like it’s been used recently,” Travis said, as he lifted the door up. “There are fresh shoe prints in the dirt and on the stairs,” he pointed out.
“Wow,” Toby shook his head. “What now?”
“Did you go down there?” I asked Travis.
“No. I just opened the door because I could feel the sagging when I stepped on this area.
Toby looked at me, “At least it doesn’t look like there are any boxes down there.” I laughed with him, thinking of all the boxes we had already found.
“What is down there, though?” I asked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Chapter 24
“Let me guess, you want to go down there and see it there is anything there,” I said to Toby.
“But with a flashlight, cell phone, and heavy jacket this time,” he winked.
“I can help with the first two items, but I don’t think I have a jacket that would fit you,” I laughed, thinking of him trying to wear one of my jackets.
“I have a jacket in the car; you get the flashlight, and we’ll go exploring,” he laughed, as he hurried toward the door. “Maybe we’ll strike gold down there.”
“Somehow I doubt it,” I murmured, and went to get the flashlights. Just before I walked out the door, I decided to leave a note for Julia letting her know where Toby and I were just in case we didn’t come back like the night before. I also grabbed a couple of scones, just in case.
“Ready?” Toby asked when I walked back into the jewelry store.
“No,” I said, taking a deep breath and watching as he went over and locked the front door so no one could come in while we were exploring the cellar under the store.
“Well, at least there shouldn’t be any mystery down there to add to our growing list,” he laughed nervously.
“Oh gosh, I hope not.”
Toby went down the steps first then held out a hand to help guide me into the cellar. When I was safely off the stairs, we both started shining our flashlights around.
“Okay, nothing to see here. Just an empty cellar,” I declared, and got about three steps up the stairway when Toby called me to over to see something he found. He was, of course, at the furthest back corner of the cellar.
“Look - a door. Where do you think it might go?” he asked, trying to open it.
“Around here, with all the mining tunnels and everything, it’s hard telling. But it seems to be either locked or stuck, so I guess we’ll never find out,” I said, as I turned to go back to the stairs. I’d had enough; this isn’t what I antici
pated when I offered to help him unravel the mystery about his parents, and there was no way I wanted to get stuck again and spend another night trapped somewhere. Nope; tonight I want to be safely tucked away in my bed, in my apartment, with only Frosty the cat to keep me company.
“I’m going to grab that hammer from upstairs and see if we can get this open,” he said, brushing past me.
“Maybe we should find someone else to open it,” I yelled after him. I could hear him moving around in the store. Within seconds he was back with a hammer and a saw.
Murder on Main Street Page 12
