Putting down the sprigs of parsley I’d been adding to the platter of cut-up veggies, I hurried over to look. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I am not. Of course, I don’t have time to go through everything. It’s possible they were put in the wrong spot.” Her troubled blue eyes met mine.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Sid.
“No,” I agreed. “It doesn’t.”
29
~Cara~
EveLynn hauled a rolling cart with three large phaleanopsis orchids through our front door.
“I hope you don’t mind, Cara, dear,” said Honora, as she positioned the plants strategically in the middle of our serving tables. The splashes of bright pink brightened up the shop considerably.
“EveLynn? Please put the cut glass punch bowls right here,” said Honora, pointing to a spot on the tables. “You brought the champagne, didn’t you? And the raspberries?”
Turning to me, Honora said, “I’ve decided to make some of my champagne punch.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I said. “Great idea about the cut glass bowls. They will look nicer than the plastic pitchers I’d planned on using. I appreciate your taking the initiative. Make sure to give me the receipts for the champagne so I can reimburse you.”
“Yes, well, MJ and Skye both told me that you were easy to get along with.” Honora clasped her hands to her chest and looked around her, smiling. “I think I’m going to like it here.”
I helped EveLynn mix the punch. That set us back a little, so I didn’t get the chance to call Lou and tell him about the missing photos. At the stroke of five, we opened the door to an endless stream of guests. A few asked about the black ribbons.
Police Captain Nathan Davidson showed up shortly after five-thirty.
“How’re you doing, Cara?” asked Davidson. The gold flecks in his hazel eyes picked up the golden glow of his skin, a healthy tan. I remembered Lou telling me that Davidson liked to go sport fishing.
“I’ve been better. Between finding Kathy Simmons and the break in.”
“I understand, but the place looks great,” he said.
“Yes, we managed to get our act together quickly, all things considered.”
“I heard about you being there when Lou opened the car trunk. Sorry about that.”
“He suggested that I leave. I was being stubborn.”
“Not stubborn. Persistent. It’s one of your best qualities. Most people give up too quickly. You have the guts to stick to your guns. I like that,” he said.
The compliment caught me off-guard. Davidson had a reassuring quality about him. His eyes snapped with intelligence, but there was also a sense of coiled energy in them. Given my history with the cops, I should have felt nervous around him. But I didn’t.
“Thank you for coming,” I said. “I know you’re really busy.”
“My pleasure entirely. This is the highlight of my day.” To my surprise, he gave me a quick peck on the cheek before he wandered off to visit with other guests.
I was mingling when Lou arrived. Like his boss, he was wearing a gold name badge identifying him as part of our law enforcement community. The name badges had been a smart move. Not only was good public relations for them to attend local events, it would also serve as a visual reminder that the cops were keeping an eye on my business. With any luck, maybe my sister would back off and my burglar would stay away.
“Captain Davidson wants to buy a Highwayman painting for his office,” MJ whispered to me. “There’s a decorating line item in the budget. He wants you to help him pick one.”
“Tell him that I’ll make him a good deal,” I said. “If he comes back when we aren’t busy, you and I can show him the entire inventory. Or you can. You know a lot more about them than I do.”
“I’ll let him know,” said MJ. “But I think he wanted your help specifically. Terrific turnout.”
“We can thank Kathy Simmons and her wonderful article for most of the warm bodies here.”
As soon as MJ walked off, Lou came over. “Thanks for inviting me. I wish I could stay longer, but…”
“Any luck tracking down the person who broke into my store?” I figured I’d get an update from Lou and then tell him my news.
“No, we have a partial palm print that we’re running through our data bases,” he leaned close and added, “We also checked with all the area emergency rooms, doctors, and care facilities, but no one came in needing a gash sewn up. Haven’t seen anyone here with gauze hanging out either.”
“You think the burglar might be in this crowd?” My pulse started racing.
“Calm down.” Lou smiled in that cryptic way of his. “That’s not what I said. It’s always a possibility, but in this case, I doubt that he’d have the energy to make an appearance. Our burglar lost a lot of blood. That can really tire you out.”
“But you’re still thinking—”
A customer interrupted us with a question about a lovely dresser that I’d redecorated. I excused myself and left Lou to address her concerns.
A small group of interested people had gathered around the piece. “This is an example of one way we repurpose old furniture. The initial chest of drawers was sound, but ugly. We re-glued and refinished the piece, adding the bright stripes of color. Our goal here at The Treasure Chest is to rethink our disposable society. We’re all about second chances. Finding treasure where most people see only trash.”
“What kind of shells are on this bedside table?” Another guest pointed to a navy nightstand trimmed with white shells.
“Snail shells,” I said.
“But they’re so bright white! The size and shape are perfect on that piece.”
I nodded. The source of those white shells was definitely a secret I intended on keeping.
“I’ve never seen anything like that!” the woman raved.
Exactly, I thought. Our goal is to come up with ideas that no one else can copy.
“To think you’re keeping all this out of our landfill and producing furnishings that I want in my home. This is amazing,” said her friend.
A customer asked about the seashell garlands strung throughout the store. “Those brown beads, between the shells. Where did you buy them?”
“We didn’t,” I explained. “The large brown ones are made from recycled paper bags. The smaller beads are from pages of old books.”
“Tell me about the photo display mentioned in the news,” a guest demanded.
“You’re in luck,” I said, tapping a spoon against a glass and turning to address the crowd. “If I could have your attention? Please? If you’d come this way?”
Buzzing with excitement, our guests gathered around the blue velvet curtain.
“I’m Cara Mia Delgatto, and I want to welcome all of you to The Treasure Chest. Over the past few months, we’ve carefully curated a display of Old Florida images. When we unveil them, you’ll recognize scenes from a bygone era. Although the photos are for sale, none of them can leave the store for the next thirty days. Our goal is to create a visual reminder of our state’s history—one that changes month by month. Every thirty days, we’ll change the exhibit. Since downtown Stuart attracts so many tourists, we hope to give our city’s visitors a glimpse of Florida’s past.”
With that, I pulled back the curtain and the applause started.
A lump in my throat reminded me that Kathy Simmons wasn’t around to thank for her timely article. There was no way of knowing how many guests we added this evening because of Kathy’s story, but I was guessing quite a few.
As the clapping slowed, people asked questions. The media event had been a sort of dress rehearsal, and the answers came easily. At the back of the crowd, I saw JasonRobbins, who was standing at attention with one arm behind his back. He gave me an encouraging smile as I talked about the pictures, our philosophy, and my store. After what seemed like hours, but couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, I said, “MJ, Skye, Honora, Sid, and I will be more than happy to answer any qu
estions you have. Meanwhile, please help yourself to the food. Thank you all for joining us this evening.”
Across the room stood JasonRobbins, waving a bouquet of red roses at me.
30
~Lou~
Lou watched the expression on Cara’s face as Jason Robbins handed her a dozen red roses. It went from “happy” to “dreamy” in the blink of an eye.
“That’s what you need to do,” said Showalter. “Buy Skye some red roses and apologize. Nothing says ‘humble pie’ like a big bunch of expensive flowers.”
“No way,” said Lou, under his breath. “I’m not that sort of a guy. Besides, I won’t apologize for doing my job.”
“Spoken like a confirmed bachelor,” said Showalter. “That’s exactly who you’ll be for the rest of your life if you don’t change your ways. So Barbara hurt your pride. That was ten years ago. Get over it and move on. Skye is not Barbara Grette. The two women are nothing alike.”
Showalter might have continued his harangue, but Captain Davidson came over to join him. “You ready to leave? Let’s walk out together. Cara’s busy. I’ll send her a thank-you note from both of us tomorrow.”
Lou cast a longing glance in Skye’s direction. She caught his eye and quickly looked away, without any of her usual warmth.
Chastised, he followed Davidson past throngs of people and out of the store.
“Cara did a fantastic job,” said Davidson. “This promotion is going to generate a lot of sales.”
They had both parked a block down from the store. As they ambled toward their cars, Davidson asked Lou, “What do you have on the break in?”
Lou slowed his pace. "Bupkis."
"Bupkis?" Davidson roared with laughter. "I need to buy you a Yiddish dictionary. You do know what that really means don't you? Literally, it’s goat droppings."
"We didn’t even find that. The scumbag cut himself pretty good. Left a lot of blood on the floor and a partial print. We’re running it through the system. Checked with the local medical providers. No one came in with a big cut.”
“Ask at all the local pharmacies. Maybe someone bought a lot of gauze and bandages.”
“Will do.”
“How’d the search of Kathy Simmons’ apartment go?”
“Not well. Those two young women had nothing times two. Living on the edge.”
“But Kathy ponied up the money to buy a framed photograph from Cara. Was it expensive?”
“Relative to a reporter’s salary, yes, it was.”
“Interesting. What are you thinking about the roommate?” asked Davidson.
“I can’t tell when someone is lying, can you?”
“No. Always mystifies me when the detective in a movie or on TV knows right away if he’s getting the straight scoop. Once in a while, I’m fairly confident I can tell, but not always.”
“That said, I don’t think the roommate did it," said Lou. “She's been working double shifts at Wendy's. She has an alibi for the time that Kathy died. A full shift saw her at work. Besides, if she did kill Kathy, why not dump the body and keep the car? Darcy doesn’t have any transportation. Unless she can bum a ride, she walks to work. Kathy was paying for the apartment. By killing Kathy, Darcy lost her meal ticket, so to speak. She doesn't have motive; in fact, she had every reason to want Kathy to stay alive."
"What did the search of the car turn up?”
“Nothing so far,” said Lou. “It had been wiped clean and vacuumed before we got to it. Looks like a professional job. Since Kathy was wrapped in plastic, there was very little in the trunk. The techs will keep at it, though.”
“But Kathy threatened Cara,” Davidson said, “and that tells us something about her character. Our victim wasn’t above using threats to get what she wanted. In this case, it was nothing more than a photo, but what if she’d resorted to coercion before? What if it backfired? Her job was all about collecting information and using it.”
“Right,” said Lou. “Ollie has been looking over the information on her laptop, but so far, he hasn’t been able to access all the files. Could also be that she has notes on one of the computers at work. He and I are going to the Shoreline News office first thing tomorrow morning. I tried to track down her boss yesterday, but he was out of town. Didn’t answer my calls either. Two people who worked with Kathy Simmons should be there tomorrow, and with any luck, her boss will be back in town, too.”
“Good,” said Davidson.
The two men stood beside their police cruisers and kept talking. “What happened to the photo that Kathy Simmons bought from Cara?” asked Davidson.
“I’m trying to track that down,” said Lou. “By all accounts, it wasn’t anything special. Kathy had told Cara she wanted it for her mother’s birthday.”
“If you need more resources, let me know.” Davidson patted the roof of his car to signal their meeting was over.
31
~ Cara~
I couldn’t believe it when Jason handed me the bouquet of roses. I stopped myself before I squealed with joy.
“What a surprise! These are lovely! My favorites,” I said, lowering my face to the cool petals and inhaling deeply. The flowers’ scent was as powerful as their beauty.
“I thought they might cheer you up,” he said. “I bumped into Sid as he was getting off his bike. At first, I thought he might be your son. Then he introduced himself and told me about the break in. You’ve certainly had a rough couple of days.”
“You can say that again. Look, I don’t know whether I thanked you enough for taking care of me when I fainted, but I really appreciated your concern. And it’s nice of you to take the time to drop by tonight,” I said. “Of course, the flowers are OTT, as my son Tommy would say.”
“OTT?” He looked different in his dressy casual clothes. Jason’s charcoal gray shirt was tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks cinched with a black alligator belt.
“Over the top, as in too wonderful for words. Do you mind going with me into the back so I can put them in water?”
“Of course not.” As we walked together, he said, “This store is really something. I didn’t get the chance to look around when I came through yesterday. The black ribbons are a nice touch. Classy.”
“It seemed like the least we could do."
"The funeral will be Monday. Would you care to go with me? I feel awkward going alone, since I didn't know her," he said and paused, "but I feel like I owe her that. Under the circumstances."
"That’s how I feel, too, and I don't want to go by myself either."
"Good. It’s settled. I’ll phone you with a time for picking you up." He shifted his weight, as a prelude to changing the subject. "How long have you owned this place?”
“Four months.” As I filled a vase with water, I gave him a thumbnail version of how I happened to buy The Treasure Chest. Realizing I’d monopolized the conversation, I asked, “Were you able to get any work done yesterday?”
“No.” He gave me a half-smile. “Instead I bought the crew a couple rounds of beer. Today we were back at it early. I hope the noise hasn't been too much of a distraction.”
“Not so far, but there’s nothing that can be done about it anyway, is there? We both have jobs to do.”
“And you probably need to get back to your guests,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I probably do. Have you had anything to eat? Follow me to the food.”
Once we were back on the sales floor, I spotted a familiar figure and waved him over. “Jason, have you met my grandfather? Dick Potter?”
Poppy was spiffed up for the event. When I hugged him, I caught a scent of the nice men’s cologne I’d given him for Christmas. My grandfather shook Jason’s hand. “We’ve met. How’s it going, son?”
“We had a slight hiccup, but we’re back at it,” said Jason.
“Poppy, you’re back early from your trip. Wasn’t the fishing any good?”
“Storm blowing in from the Bahamas. Decided I’d rather be here than there. Be
sides, I wanted to see that there display you’ve been making such a fuss about.” Poppy’s eyes twinkled with good humor.
“Jason? Would you show Poppy the photos?” I asked. “I think I need to mingle.”
“Before you go, how’s Squirt?” My grandfather grabbed me by the elbow.
“Squirt” was my grandfather’s new nickname for Tommy.
“Not good,” I said, lowering my voice.
“How come?”
“Poppy’s asking about my son,” I explained to Jason. “Tommy’s a freshman at University of Miami. He got his grades, and they weren’t very good. He’d warned me this was coming—and he’s the first to admit he spent too much time partying and not enough doing his studies. But Dom—that's my ex—blew a gasket. He says he won’t pay for Tommy’s next year at school.”
Jason frowned. “After one semester? When the kid admitted he goofed up?”
“I’ve got half a mind to drive up to St. Louis and pound that ex-husband of yours into the ground. He ain’t worth the dirt under his feet,” said Poppy, tucking his thumbs into his waistband.
“I know,” I started to say more but Philomena Humberger, a local real estate agent, waltzed over and grabbed me by the arm.
“Cara, you’ve outdone yourself!” she cooed. “The store looks fabulous! I can’t believe all the wonderful photos you’ve collected. Cooper and I have the most wonderful news.”
She and Cooper were partners in securing a Fill Up and Go franchise. Originally they'd planned to tear down The Treasure Chest and replace it with the new facility. But I'd scooped up this property and made a deal with them to take over Poppy's old gas station instead.
Almost on cue, my old boyfriend stepped to her side. My heart crowded my throat at the sight of him. I could feel my face turning scarlet, and my heart beating at twice its normal rate, so I focused on Philomena.
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 101
