The front doorbell jingled, and Sylvia looked up. Hatty entered the shop.
“Hello, Hatty. Can I help you?”
The woman rushed across the store. “Oh, Sylvia. I’ve been so worried. I heard about Hubert. Is it true? He was killed in your garage?”
Sylvia swallowed. She didn’t really want to talk about Hubert’s death.
“What’s that you’re working on?” Hatty’s eyes were riveted on the diary.
Sylvia slammed it shut and placed it in her purse. “Just working on my blog.”
“Your blog?”
“Yes, I have a blog. I put some of the excerpts from diaries I acquire on it. People seem to be very interested in it.”
“Hmm, a blog. Perhaps my grandson could help me start one. You know, post photos of items I have in my shop. Tell the history of them.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I appreciate you coming over, but I don’t have any other information about Hubert’s death to share.”
Hatty, her mind now set on writing a blog, turned abruptly and left the store without a word.
Sylvia stood and stretched. She decided she’d head over to Cup N Cake to get another lemon poppy seed muffin. She grabbed her purse but decided not to take the diary with her. Still, she couldn’t leave it just lying around. She slipped the diary out of her purse and placed it in her small safe and twisted the dial. Then she locked the door and strolled casually across the courtyard, glancing in the windows of the other shops.
“Hi, Sylvia,” Penny’s pleasant voice called out when Sylvia stepped into Cup N Cake.
“Hi, Penny. I’ll take a lemon poppy seed.” She moved across the room and sat down. She quickly scanned the room, the only other person in the shop had her back to them. However, the door opened, and Hatty came in.
“Oh, Sylvia. I thought you were at your shop working on that diary. By the way, where did you get that one from?”
Sylvia scowled, “That’s none of your business!”
“I didn’t realize everything was such a secret. Is that why you stuck it in your purse so quickly when I came in?”
Sylvia didn’t answer. She glared at the woman.
“Oh, well, excuse me.” Hatty turned and ordered a blueberry scone. She tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently while she waited. Sylvia stared at her; irritation apparent on her face. From the corner of her eye, she noted the door close behind the person who had been sitting in the shop.
After eating her muffin, Sylvia returned to the Good Old Days Antique Store. She spent the next hour putting some books, which had been delivered that morning, out on the shelves. Several times she had to step into the back room. She had a few customers come in the shop and actually sold several antiques and two rare books.
At the end of the day, Bill arrived with a big grin.
“So, a quiet day?”
Sylvia nodded. “Yes. Except for the third degree I got from Hatty.”
“The old bitty,” Bill grumbled.
“She’s not even as old as I am, Bill.” Sylvia crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
Bill laughed and took her arm and tucked it into the crook of his then led her out to the car.
Once she was settled on the seat and Bill slipped in the front seat, she put her head back for a moment, then gasped slightly. “I forgot my purse, Bill! The back-door locks automatically.”
Bill turned with a frown. “How will we get in? If you left your purse inside, your keys are in there.”
Sylvia sat up. “I keep a key out back, in a hide-a-rock. It’s right over there.” Sylvia pointed at a large grey rock, sitting next to the garbage cans, outside her shop’s door.
Bill got out of the taxi, walked around the car and picked up the rock. He turned it over and retrieved the key. In seconds, he disappeared into the shop.
Sylvia waited, but after five minutes, she slid out of the car and stepped into the shop.
“Bill?” She called.
“Sylvia, I can’t find your purse anywhere.”
“What!!!” Sylvia moved toward her counter. She searched the area. Even bent down and looked far into the corner. It was too dark to see anything.
“Let me flip on the lights.” Bill moved toward the wall. Sylvia felt around. Finally, Bill must have found the light switch and turned them on because she could see much better, but her purse was nowhere to be seen.
Sylvia straightened. “Bill, I can’t find my purse. I know I put it on the counter.”
Bill stared at her.
“Oh goodness. That means someone came in my shop today and stole my purse.”
“You’re kidding! First the store was broken into, then a man was murdered in your garage, and now your purse is missing. It’s just plain crazy.”
Sylvia patted his arm. “No, Bill. It just means that we know what the intruder is looking for. It has to be the diary. And whoever it was thought it was in my shop, then they decided it was in the desk still and killed Hubert looking for it. But, they finally realized I had to have it so they stole my purse.”
Bill pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. After he explained the situation to the dispatcher, he disconnected.
“So this person, whoever it was, has the diary now?”
Sylvia shook her head. “No. I put it in the safe.”
Bill blew out a breath. “Okay, let’s get it out and give it to the police so that we won’t have any more problems. Once they figure out who did this, you can get the diary back.”
Sylvia agreed. While they waited for the police, she pulled the diary out of the safe. She flipped through several pages, reading as fast as she could, hoping to get a clue to what the intruders were looking for, but when the police arrived, she hadn’t discovered anything.
“So, you really believe this is all about the diary?” a young officer asked.
“Yes, it has to be. And that’s why Hubert was killed.”
The young man looked skeptical but said he would call it in. He stepped outside to make the call. After a few minutes, he returned.
“Miss Sylvia, I just spoke to Officer McClan. He assures me this has nothing to do with the diary. They just arrested the person they think murdered Hubert.”
Sylvia’s eyes opened wider. Her hand touched her heart. “Who…who was it?”
“Doc Holiday.”
Chapter 8
“Doc Holiday?” Sylvia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Why would Doc kill anyone?” she asked Officer McClan when he arrived at her shop.
“We went to talk to him because he was on your list. When we got there, we found the coins from the Pendecot estate. It was obvious; he must have found them in the desk.”
Sylvia shook her head back and forth. Doc was an old humbug and loved coin collecting, but murder? Never!
“What did he tell you?”
“We haven’t had time to interrogate him yet, but it looks like it will be an open and shut case.”
Sylvia turned to Bill, “This isn’t right. We have to go and talk to him. There has to be an explanation.”
Bill tried to soothe her by gently stroking her arm.
“Sylvia, sit down; you’re all upset. You should go home and get some rest.”
“No, we have to talk to Doc.” She looked at Officer McClan. “Will we be allowed to speak to him?"
The man’s eyebrows drew together, “No, Miss Sylvia. But we will give him a chance to explain everything. Once we know more, we will let you know.”
The officer turned to leave. Sylvia stood with the diary dangling from her hand, a scowl on her face.
“Bill, what can we do?” Sylvia sat down at her counter.
“I don’t know. I guess we have to wait.”
“You know I’m not one to sit around and wait.” She slumped her shoulders. After a few moments, Sylvia sat up.
“That Coast Drive Mile Long Yard Sale is next month. I have to get busy boxing up items and doing inventory.”
“Are you going to se
t up on the coast?”
“Sure, I’ll leave Jason here to pick up any stragglers who actually make it to town. People start on one end and walk the whole mile. If you don’t have a table near the beginning or middle, you don’t sell much because most people are tired or already carrying full bags.”
Bill moved closer and leaned on the counter. “Hmm, you know I have an old golf cart. Maybe if I set up a few tables before you, I could offer to drive people back to their cars to drop off their packages then bring them back. That way, they’d have free hands to start all over again at your table.”
A huge smile spread across Sylvia’s face. “Bill, that’s a wonderful idea. Why are you always so good to me?”
“You’re my favorite passenger.”
Sylvia laughed. “I’m almost your only passenger.”
Bill nodded then straightened up. “Do you still want to go home?”
“No, Bill. I’d rather work while we wait to hear from the police. Why don’t you go back to work? I’ll call you if I hear anything.”
Bill shuffled around the room. “I guess, now that they have Doc, you should be safe.” He tried to sound assured, but she could tell he was still worried. Neither of them really believed Doc Holiday could be the killer.
An hour later, Jason came back into the shop.
“Oh, Jason, how is Jennifer?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “She’s pretty torn up. I would have stayed with her, but she had to go down to the morgue. She wanted to go alone.”
Sylvia tsked. “That will be awful for her.”
“Yes, but she insisted on going alone. She said she had to make the funeral arrangements.”
Just then, the front door opened, and Hatty rushed in. “Sylvia! Sylvia, did you hear they think Doc Holiday killed Hubert?”
Jason gasped. “They know who did it?”
Sylvia reached over and patted his hand. Her voice dropped. “They found the Pendecot coins. Doc had them. So they think he killed Hubert.”
Jason’s face turned red in anger.
“Bill and I don’t believe he did it. There has to be some other explanation. We’re waiting to hear from the police.” Sylvia looked up at Hatty with a frown. “Hatty, are you setting up a table in the Coast Drive Mile Long Yard Sale?”
“Goodness, no. It will be too hot. I’m sure I’ll sell plenty from the shop that weekend.” Suddenly, she turned and gave Sylvia a suspicious look. “Are you?”
“Yes, Hatty. Not many customers come to the shops that weekend. They stick to the tables on the street. If you want to get a space next to mine, we can take turns helping one another, you know, if we need bathroom breaks or time to eat.”
Hattie stood with her mouth hanging open. “Well, Sylvia. That is a nice offer.”
“Besides, I have an extra tent you can borrow. It blocks the sun and protects you from rain.”
“So, you’ll close your shop completely?”
Sylvia hesitated. “No, I hired Jason to work here for me. He’ll stay here and run the shop.”
Hatty bit her bottom lip. “Hmm. I suppose I can try to find someone to run my shop that weekend.” She glanced at Jason with a frown as if trying to place him. She leaned closer to him and asked, “Do you have any friends who might work for me?”
Jason pulled his head back and stared at her. “No, sorry. I don’t have many friends here. I usually only hang around with Jennifer.”
“Hubert’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
Hatty looked as if she were about to say something more, but Sylvia stepped silently between them. “Jason, can you take these empty boxes to the back room?” She pushed a small pile of boxes towards him.
Jason straightened and plodded from the room.
Hatty’s eyes followed him. “Sylvia, I’ve heard things about that young man.”
“Most not true,” Sylvia insisted. “Hatty, I’ve got things to do.”
“Okay, Sylvia. If you hear any more about Doc, please let me know.”
Sylvia nodded and watched the other woman walk out of the store.
When Jason came back to the front, he scanned the room. “Miss Hatty gone?”
“Yes, Jason. I’m sorry about that. She’s a real busybody.”
“Nothing I’m not used to. This town… these people… well, they’re never going to accept me.”
“Yes, they will. It’s just going to take time.”
“But now that Hubert’s dead, everyone will be even more suspicious.”
“Not if Doc killed him.”
Jason slumped his shoulders. “You don’t think he did it, and I agree. When they finally figure that out, I’ll be next in line as a suspect.”
Sylvia didn’t answer.
Sylvia spent the rest of the afternoon reading the Pendecot diary and upgrading her blog. She kept Jason busy, but they didn’t speak any further about Doc Holiday.
Bill showed up at the end of the day and helped Sylvia into his cab.
“Need a nice quiet ride before you go home?”
“No, but I better stop by and see Laura Lee before the end of the day. If she heard anything about Doc Holiday, she might be upset.”
Bill drove straight to the nursing home and walked Sylvia into the front waiting area.
“I’ll just sit out on the front rocking chairs and wait for you.”
Sylvia gave him a gracious smile. “Thank you, Bill. I can always rely on you. I shouldn’t be too long.”
Sylvia moved further down the hallway. Her sister was not in the sitting area. Sylvia found her in her room.
“Laura Lee, what are you doing in your room? I thought I saw them setting up for Bingo down in the main area.”
Laura Lee glanced up at Sylvia but, for a few seconds, didn’t seem to recognize her.
Sylvia’s brow drew together. She knew these moments would come and go and, eventually, Laura Lee might not recognize her at all. She just wasn’t prepared for it yet.
Finally, Laura Lee’s face lit up. “Sylvia May!”
Sylvia moved across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Laura Lee was in a wheelchair. Sylvia took her sister’s hand and patted it. “Yes, Dear, it’s me.”
They spoke of general things for a while. Sylvia checked the closet to make sure Laura Lee had plenty of clean clothes. She peeked at the sheets on the bed to make sure they had been changed properly.
“Is there anything I can get you from home or the store, Laura Lee?”
The other woman thought for a few moments. “I would love some of those lemon poppy seed muffins from Cup N Cake.”
Sylvia laughed. “Yes, I know you love them. I’ll bring you a big tin full tomorrow.”
“Oh, Sylvia. I’ve wanted to tell you something. One of my friends here has lost her son.”
Sylvia cocked her head and glanced at her sister. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. His name is Donald, and he comes to see his mother every single day. But he hasn’t been here in two days. She says she has called him and even asked her younger brother to go check on him, but he’s not anywhere around.”
Sylvia remembered the man. She also recalled how he had overheard her talking about the desk and the diary.
“I’ll tell Officer McClan about it. Now, let’s get you out to the Bingo game.” She pushed her sister’s wheelchair slowly down the hallway and settled her at her place.
Sylvia thought about bringing up the death of Hubert, but she decided against it. She didn’t want to upset her sister.
“Well, Dear. I’ve got Bill waiting on the front porch so I’ll leave you to your game. I hope you win.”
Laura Lee snickered. “I hope I don’t win. All the prizes are knickknacks to display in our rooms, they say. With everything I brought from home, I don’t have room for any more little things.”
Sylvia nodded in understanding. “I’ll try to come up with an idea to suggest for different types of prizes. Maybe coupons for some of the local bakeries, or something e
lse.”
Laura Lee grinned. “That sounds like a good idea. If we win the coupons, we can give them to our families to pick up some goodies for us.”
“Okay. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll bring you some lemon poppy seed muffins.”
Before Sylvia could turn away, Laura Lee waved her closer and pointed at the woman sitting at the table behind her.
“That’s the one who lost her son.”
Sylvia noted the sad expression on the woman’s face.
“I’ll call Officer McClan as soon as I get home.”
Chapter 9
Sylvia stood in the garage, staring at the desk. Although the drawers were all pulled out, it wasn’t damaged, with the exception of one panel, which had been pried off.
That must have been where the coins were hidden.
She bent over and lifted the drawers one at a time and slid them into the desk.
Once in the house, Sylvia made a call to Jason and to Gathe Denver. They both agreed to come over the next day and help her move the desk into the house.
After a small bowl of potato soup and a salad, Sylvia prepared for bed. The image of the desk seemed to haunt her. Suddenly, she realized what was bothering her.
The person must have known where the coins were, or more than just that one panel would have been pried off. Whoever did it wasn’t looking for the diary, only the coins.
Sylvia called the number Officer McClan had given her. She spoke to him about Donald’s disappearance, and she shared her thoughts about the person who stole the coins.
“Have you been able to get Doc to admit to killing Hubert?”
“No, Miss Sylvia. The more I talk to him, the less I believe he could’ve killed him. The coroner said that Hubert was hit over the head with something first. Doc’s got a pretty debilitating old shoulder injury.”
Sylvia sat on the edge of her bed. “Hmm. What does Doc say?”
“He swears he bought the coins from someone. Had no idea they were the Pendecot coins.”
“But whom does he say he bought them from?”
Diary and Death Page 5
