Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books!

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Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books! Page 84

by Joanna Campbell Slan


  "On and on," he said. "That's how I became interested. Losing them devastated her. Not because of the monetary value. That didn't come until later. Much later. The paintings were like children to her. It was sad, really, but she seemed to care more about her collection than she did about Irving. She could talk your ear off about the original twenty-six Highwaymen, their techniques and their palettes. Toward the end of her life, she spent most of her time hunting down new paintings. That's one reason her business started doing so poorly."

  I had to change the conversation before my courage left. I turned to face him. "That reminds me of the reason I came. I have a business proposition for you."

  "Really?" His eyes twinkled. "Do tell."

  I explained about the trade. "I realize that it might not work because the franchise might not approve my grandfather's location, and there could be problems with the gas tanks, but would you be willing to consider it? You see, I'm having flooring laid at The Treasure Chest first thing tomorrow. If this swap isn't even an option, I better make a phone call pretty quick and stop the guy."

  "You're having the floor replaced? How come?"

  "I'm planning on re-opening The Treasure Chest."

  "Oh," he said softly. "Selling antiques?"

  "Not exactly," and I told him about my concept.

  "You always were a smart girl. I think you can make a go of it. People going in and out of Pumpernickel's will want to window shop. You'll get good foot traffic from snowbirds, wandering the downtown area."

  "What about your franchise? I don't want you to lose out on the opportunity."

  "You're in luck," he said with a grin. "They approved entire zones of consideration. Dick's shop would definitely be among their preferred locations. As for the leaking gas tanks, those need to be taken care of one way or another. But there'd definitely be less disruption to dig up the streets once instead of twice."

  "I realize there might be a cost involved," I said. "To get those old tanks up and clean up the mess."

  "We can find out what it is and go from there."

  "That is such a relief. Okay. Here's what I was thinking: I'll work with Philomena Humberger to sell you Poppy's place. That should be some money in her pocket immediately."

  "Why are you so concerned about Philomena?"

  I traced a finger along the seam of my jeans. "Jodi explained that Philomena is your business partner. How she'd get the short end of the stick because of what I'd done."

  "Oh, she did, did she?" asked Cooper. "I think it's prudent to give Philomena the listing because someone will need to work with the people at Fill Up and Go. Philomena can take care of the details, get the necessary inspections, and permits. She's already familiar with what they need."

  He took my hands in his and squeezed them gently. "I heard Dick is in the hospital. I also heard that they think they can get his diabetes under control. That's good news. He can fix just about anything with a motor. Our construction equipment is always breaking down."

  "Ah," I said, "but don't keep him too busy. I might need his help, too. I have big plans for The Treasure Chest."

  "When you talk about your new store your eyes light up. Did you know that? Yes, they do! I can tell you're excited about this. What's the plan, to get it up and running and then leave town?"

  That hurt. It was a fair question, but it stung. My face must have betrayed my feelings, because he quickly added, "I don't want you to go. Honest. I'm trying to manage my expectations."

  "You…don't want me to go?" I choked out the words.

  His fingers toyed with a stray curl, moving it off my face, tucking it behind my ear. His touch ignited me, sent shivers through my body, although I tried very hard to resist the warmth that was whirling inside me.

  "No." We moved closer to each other, as though we were two magnets being pulled together by an irresistible force. I stared into his eyes and he stared into mine, igniting a firestorm of emotions. Shifting his weight, his arm tightened behind me, drawing me closer still.

  "Cara Mia," he said in a rough voice, “my beloved.” With one fingertip, he traced my lips and I closed my eyes. This had to be a dream! The warmth of his breath tickled my face. His mouth touched mine. A bolt of electricity coursed through me, and I grabbed his upper arms, sinking deeper and deeper into his kiss. My mouth opened to his, and I felt myself drowning, drowning, drowning in the depths of emotions I'd forgotten I could feel.

  The office door swung open.

  "Cooper! What are you doing?" screamed Jodi.

  55

  Jodi continued to shriek as I flew out of Cooper's arms like a shot. Without a backward glance, I pushed past her and ran down the hall. I could feel Ms. Cheater-Reader’s eyes on me as I raced out of the building.

  In the parking lot, my hand shook so violently that I could barely open my car door. Eventually I did, throwing myself inside. I let my forehead rest on the hot steering wheel. Gulping air, I tried to calm myself down. What on earth had happened back there? I’d have done anything that Cooper had asked of me. Anything! And that was after just one kiss.

  I needed to get my wits about me. Down the street was a Wendy's, so I drove there, parked, and bought something I almost never eat, a Frosty. The cold chocolate confection helped me get control of myself. After I finished, I felt better.

  As much as I wanted to talk about this with Kiki, I couldn't take the time. I had one more errand to run, and then I could put this whole fiasco behind me. I tapped "Humberger Real Estate" into my cell phone. Their office was six blocks away. After tossing the Frosty cup into a trash bin, I headed that direction.

  Humberger's shared its space with three other businesses in a stucco fronted building that I suspected was CBC, concrete block construction. As I walked in, a receptionist looked up from her desk. I explained that I wanted to speak to Mrs. Humberger. Before the gatekeeper could demur, I added, "I'm Cara Mia Delgatto. It's urgent."

  The receptionist looked at me with undisguised curiosity, called her boss, and said, "Go on back."

  I followed a hallway to a glass cubicle with its blinds closed. Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I rapped lightly on the glass and opened the door.

  With her bulldog features and loose jowls, Philomena Humberger was not an attractive woman. Given her recent loss, she probably looked worse than usual.

  "Mrs. Humberger? I'm Cara Mia Delgatto. Please accept my deepest sympathy."

  Her mouth sagged open. Her eyes blinked rapidly. "Good grief. No wonder Hal gave you the contract. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. You and Jodi Wireka look an awful lot alike. In fact, you could be twins."

  "So I've recently discovered. May I?" I nodded at an empty chair.

  "I guess." She sniffed, but it might have been a post-crying sniff and not a nasty sort of gesture.

  "I stopped by to apologize for inserting myself in the transaction. You see, I was worried about my grandfather, Dick Potter. Your late husband told me that Cooper planned to run Poppy out of business. As you might imagine, I wanted to protect my grandfather. The confusion about identities gave me a chance to do just that. I've since learned about the issue with the leaking gas tanks. I've talked to my grandfather, and I think we've come up with a compromise."

  "What sort of compromise?" She picked up an ink pen and fiddled with it. She had not accepted my apology, but at least she hadn't kicked me out of the office.

  "My grandfather recently told me that the gas station is mine to do with as I will. I stopped by and spoke to Cooper Rivers before I came here. I offered him the Gas E Bait instead of The Treasure Chest."

  "Why not do the honorable thing and let him have The Treasure Chest? That's the building he really wants." She glared at me, but I could tell she was considering my offer. Her mouth wasn't as tight, and her grip on the pen had relaxed.

  "I have plans for that particular building."

  "That was fast."

  "I know. However, Cooper tells me that the Gas E Bait would a
lso be acceptable to the franchise company. I know it'll be my responsibility to clear up problems with the leaking gas tanks. I'd be happy to swap one property for the other." I paused. "I'd pay you to broker the deal. That would mean you’d earn your commission twice."

  Now I definitely had her attention.

  "It wasn't all your fault," she said softly, leaning back into her chair. "Hal should never have blabbed about Cooper's plans. Don't get me wrong. I loved my husband, but he was always sloppy. Always looking for the next big score, and never slowing down long enough to do his homework. Money didn't just burn a hole in his pocket, it lit an inferno."

  She reached for a tissue. Her face crumpled as she let out a ragged sob. "Hal was a jerk, but he was my jerk. Oh, Hal! Why'd you go and get yourself killed?"

  56

  After Philomena regained her composure, we talked through my offer to swap properties. As it happened, there wasn't much of a price differential because Poppy's property was actually larger than I realized, while Essie's was on a smaller lot. We talked through other housekeeping items. She promised to get together the necessary paperwork and call me.

  I reiterated that I was sorry for her loss, and for my part in making her life more complicated. My apology was sincere, and she accepted it. We left on a cordial note.

  By the time I had returned to Essie's building, I'd almost managed to forget my awkward encounter with Cooper. At least, I managed to act as if nothing was bothering me.

  MJ and Skye were both absorbed in their own projects. Skye was cleaning our existing light fixtures. MJ had filled a yellow legal pad with notes about buyers.

  It was nearly dinner time. I suggested we knock off for the evening.

  "Where are we? What progress have we made?" I asked as I sank into my office chair. I'd just taken Jack out for a piddle. He wriggled with joy as I settled him onto my lap. That little tail of his was wagging double-time. With those big eyes of his, he was a curious scamp.

  "I've contacted two more customers who want items that we might be able to patch up and deliver," said MJ. "Bobby is gluing one of the dressers back together. That will take care of one customer. The other wants a shell-covered mirror. We've got a mirror, but it's plain."

  "I can fix that," said Skye. "No problem. I’ll make a trip to the beach and pick up the shells I’ll need. The fluorescent fixtures are all clean, and the old bulbs have been replaced. While I was working, I figured we needed some cute things that we could sell cheaply to bring people through the door. When I ran over to Pumpernickel's, I brought back these cans."

  Two plastic bags full of empty tin cans sat on the floor behind me. I failed to see why anyone would buy them, unless they wanted to recycle the metal. I guess my doubts showed up on my face.

  "Trust me," said Skye. "You'll be amazed at what we can do with these after I soak off the labels."

  "I glued that piece of furniture that needed it. Looked over the other stuff. I’ll need supplies from home to get it going. I've got most of the drywall nailed down and patched," said Bobby, joining us. He leaned against the file cabinet and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've taped and slapped mud on the seams. Tomorrow I'll sand everything and give it a second coat."

  After I praised everyone for their hard work, we called it a day. MJ and Bobbie left together. Skye had made a food run while she was at Pumpernickel's, and my dinner was in the refrigerator. I sat down at Essie's desk and ate another Reuben sandwich, a small fresh fruit salad, and a pickle, while Skye soaked and peeled labels off the cans.

  "Make sure you give me the receipt for the food so I can pay you back," I said, and I told her about swapping out the buildings.

  "You have such a good head for business," she said. "I can tell I'm going to learn a lot from you. How's your grandfather?"

  I explained that they'd need some time to stabilize his blood sugar and get the infection in his foot under control. Then I told her about Cooper offering him a job at the Fill Up and Go, and that got me thinking. "Skye? You seem to have a good idea of the sort of small items we might need to keep people walking in the door. You obviously have plans for those tin cans. How about if I give you petty cash to use? That way you can buy the supplies you need. Keep track of the receipts so we can be certain what our real expenses are. I’ll replenish the petty cash as you use it."

  Her eyes widened, and for a sec, I thought she'd burst into tears. Instead, she stood a little straighter and told me, "Thank you, Cara. You won't be disappointed."

  57

  The next morning Philomena phoned my cell phone at eight to say she would get the paperwork to me as soon as possible. She reminded me that she had a funeral to plan and attend, so things might take a while. I asked if she'd spoken with Cooper. She had. Everything was in process.

  I ended the call feeling sad. Why hadn't Cooper called me?

  I took Jack out the back and let him do his business. Although the U-shaped cast was awkward, he seemed to be adapting. While I wouldn't say he frolicked, he did manage to swagger around in a most amusing way. If his chest was puffed out with pride that he was mobile again. Seeing him looking so cute lifted my mood a little.

  "Sorry that you have to go back in your box," I told him as I lifted him and gave him a cuddle before carrying him back upstairs. "But I can't risk you getting underfoot. Think how hard it would be if you had two broken legs."

  I rapped on Skye's door and told her I was going to make a quick visit to the hospital.

  When I arrived, my grandfather's nurse told me that they were still working to get his infection under control. She cautioned me that with his poor circulation, it could take a while.

  "If we can't control it, he might lose several toes," she explained. "This is serious."

  As a consequence, Poppy was grumpy, but when I told him I'd met with Cooper and Philomena, he sighed with relief. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised to check back on him later.

  After swinging through the drive-up window at a Dunkin' Donuts and grabbing an egg white flatbread sandwich, I pulled into my spot at The Treasure Chest. The back door was propped open, which immediately ticked me off. Hadn't we had enough of people marching in? I stalked inside, ready to fuss at the first person I encountered.

  I stopped short because Detective Murray was just inside the doorway, talking to Skye in low urgent tones.

  "Cara?" her voice trembled. "You need to see this."

  I followed them through the shop, not sure I wanted to know about what I was about to see.

  MJ and Bobby stood on either side of a walnut dresser staring at letters painted on the outside of our display windows. They'd been done with bright red spray paint. Bobby slapped a rubber-handled clamp against his palm as if he'd like to use it to punch someone. MJ's mouth flattened into a tight line of disgust as she glared at the offending message.

  Although the lettering was reversed, I could make out the words written in red paint: Murderer! Killer! On the other side was the ever popular b-word that rhymes with "witch."

  I couldn't believe what we were seeing. "This happened overnight? While we were upstairs, sleeping?"

  "Yes," said Detective Murray. "You didn't notice it?"

  "No. When I woke up, I took Jack out the back door, and then I went out the same way to run errands. I didn't even look at the windows. I was focused on what I needed to get done."

  Suddenly, my knees went weak. Fortunately, I wasn't far from a folding chair. I landed on it with an "oomph." The sight of the ugly words brought back the public drubbing that I endured after I attacked Dom. He had milked his injuries for all they were worth, giving interview after interview with the local media. Packaging his story as a cautionary tale for young culinary school graduates, Dom railed against established restaurant owners who took advantage of their fledgling employees. Because Cara Mia's was so successful, and the world loves an underdog, people rallied behind Dominic.

  Public sentiment against me became so heated, that as a family, we decided I should m
ake myself scarce for a while. Only later would I learn that scrubbing away nasty graffiti had become a nearly daily task for my father.

  These messy red letters brought it all back to me. Someone moaned, and I realized belatedly that noise had come from me.

  "Cara? Are you okay?" Skye squatted so she was eye-level with me. "We'll get it cleaned up. It'll be good as new."

  I could feel my mouth trembling as I fought to gain my composure. I excused myself and went into the restroom. There I splashed cold water on my face.

  "I'm all over this, Ms. Delgatto," said Detective Murray when I came out. We stood by my desk. The others had gone back to their work to give us a bit of privacy. "Tell me about what happened yesterday. Maybe something triggered this mischief."

  I told him about Jodi Wireka's visit to the store. How I settled things with Poppy and then with Cooper. Eventually, I recapped my discussion with Philomena. "She called this morning, and she sounded pleased that things were moving right along."

  "Do you know of anyone with reason to be unhappy with you?"

  "Um, Cooper Rivers and I talked yesterday and his fiancée Jodi sort of, well, walked in on us. We were kissing." I felt my cheeks getting hot as I blushed at the memory.

  "Got it," said the detective in a nonchalant tone. "Just so you know I don't have a suspect yet for Mr. Humberger's killing. But we are making progress."

  An impatient bark floated down from upstairs, reminding me that Jack would need to go out soon. Detective Murray's eyes followed my tearful gaze. He rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a white cotton handkerchief. "I heard you adopted that dog that got tossed from the truck. Too bad he isn't a Doberman. I have no use for people who hurt animals. None."

  "I know!" Taking the offered handkerchief, I mopped my face. "I hope you catch him, and the person who killed Hal Humberger, and I hope it's soon. We're putting so much work into this place. All of us! Someone sneaking around and accusing me could ruin everything."

 

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