One Woman's Junk

by J. B. Lynn

  The dog stopped growling as soon as the door to the coffee shop closed.

  “You shouldn’t be mean to people,” Beatrice said to the dog. She tacked on hopefully, “Scruffy.”

  The dog raised his lip in a silent snarl of protest.

  Amanda laughed. “I don’t think he likes that one.”

  “Well, we’ve got to call him something,” Beatrice said. “Unless we call him ‘the dog’.”

  The dog curled his lip again.

  Winnie sighed. “We have other problems to worry about.”

  “This isn’t a problem,” Beatrice told her. “It’s just something normal that people do. They name their pets.”

  Before they could settle the argument, Detective Tom Keller strolled up to them. “Good morning, ladies,” he said with a nod.

  The dog leapt out of Beatrice’s lap and threw himself at the detective.

  Smiling, Keller bent down and ruffled him behind his ears. “How are you doing, buddy?”

  The dog barked, as though trying to hold up his end of the conversation. The detective straightened and smiled at the sisters. “I heard you gave Rena a place to stay last night.”

  The sisters looked at each other, wondering where he had gotten that news.

  “Ash told Piper, Piper told me,” he explained. “That was a good thing for you to do.”

  “We’re good people,” Amanda told him, lifting her chin.

  He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I never said you weren’t.”

  “No,” Amanda replied indignantly. “You only accused our godmother of being a thief.”

  The detective shook his head. “I didn’t accuse you of that, Amber Axelrod did. I’m only doing my job.”

  Amanda scowled, not accepting his reason.

  Beatrice, more because she wanted the question answered than she wanted to break the tension, asked, “So, Detective, was there an investigation into our godmother’s death?”

  34

  Keller quirked an eyebrow at her, his expression suddenly inscrutable. Beatrice wondered if that was a professional skill or just one he had mastered naturally. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

  Beatrice shrugged, fully aware that both of her sisters were glaring at her.

  “Do you suspect foul play?” the detective asked, his gaze scanning all three sisters.

  “Don’t mind her, she’s always had an overactive imagination,” Winnie said.

  “She’s under a lot of stress,” Amanda excused.

  Detective Keller looked from one sister to the other, finally settling on Beatrice. “I can look into it.”

  “There’s really no need,” Winnie assured him.

  “There definitely is a need,” Beatrice snapped back, glaring at Winnie.

  Detective Keller watched them carefully. “Is there something that you want to tell me?”

  Beatrice shook her head. It wasn’t like she could tell him about her visions. It wasn’t like she could tell him about the stolen purse or the memory card.

  “It’s just that,” Amanda started uncertainly, “she wants answers. We want answers.”

  His gazed locked on Amanda. “I’ll look into it.”

  Mr. Perkins, the self-important landlord, strode up to them, looking annoyed. “Did you hire a lawyer?”

  Winnie straightened in her seat.

  The baker emerged from the coffee shop, empty-handed.

  The dog growled.

  “I asked you if you hired a lawyer?” Perkins demanded.

  Winnie put down her coffee cup and slowly got to her feet. “Yes, I believe that what you are trying to do is a wrongful eviction. You can’t push the Concordia sisters around.”

  The baker stood to the side, watching the exchange with interest.

  “One way or another, you’re going to be out,” Perkins told them, pointing his finger at them. “I should have known you’d be a pain in the ass, just like the old lady.”

  The detective, pulling back his blazer to reveal his badge, said in a very neutral voice, “I’m sure that you didn’t mean that as a threat.”

  Perkins looked him up and down. “I’m good friends with your boss, the chief. We golf. I’d hate to tell him that you caused a problem here.”

  Detective Keller grinned at the threat. “Feel free. I haven’t been reprimanded in a long time. It will help me get reacquainted with my union rep.”

  Perkins scowled, clearly unhappy that he wasn’t able to cow either the women or the police officer. “You haven’t heard the last of me.” With that, he spun on his heel and stalked away.

  The baker followed him.

  “Thank you,” Winnie said to the detective.

  He shrugged. “I’m just doing what’s right.”

  “I hope you won’t get into trouble because of me,” Winnie said.

  He shook his head. “Seriously. Don’t worry about it. I’ll look into your godmother’s accident.” With that, he nodded at them and headed inside the coffee shop.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Amanda said to Beatrice, “Now we’ll never get rid of him.”

  “But maybe now we’ll get to the truth,” Beatrice said hopefully.

  The dog barked.

  “He really doesn’t like that baker,” Winnie remarked.

  Beatrice shrugged. She had other things to worry about than who the dog liked.

  She considered telling her sisters that Rena had supplied the stolen purse to Letty, but she didn’t want to get the girl in any kind of trouble.

  Winnie sat back down, and they all drank their coffee for a long moment.

  A minute later, Detective Keller emerged from the coffee shop, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. “Have a good day, ladies.”

  “You too, Detective,” Beatrice said. Before she knew what he was doing, the dog jumped from her lap, dragging the denim bag with him.

  “Stop,” Beatrice yelled automatically.

  The dog dragged the bag in the detective’s direction.

  Detective Keller turned around to see what was going on.

  Amanda and Winnie, both realizing the bag contained stolen goods, jumped to their feet and tripped over each other trying to get to it before he did.

  “I got it,” he said with an easy smile. Bending down, he scooped up the denim bag. In doing so, the leather bag fell out.

  Time seemed to stop as they all stared at it.

  “I think you have some explaining to do,” the detective said with obvious disappointment.

  35

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Amanda blurted out.

  Pulling a pen from his pocket, the detective used it to lift the purse off the ground by its strap. “It looks like it’s a piece of stolen property,” he said dryly.

  “It’s a fake,” Beatrice said.

  Keller frowned at her. “It’s a fake piece of stolen property?”

  “No, it’s a knock-off.”

  “You’ve said that before,” Keller said. “Regardless, it’s stolen goods. Why did you have it in your possession?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Winnie interjected quickly. “She’s pleading the fifth.”

  “She’s not in court,” Detective Keller said, shaking his head.

  “I’m sure that we can explain everything,” Amanda began.

  Keller turned on her, an edge creeping into his voice. “Yes, please do. Please explain to me how you let me search your place, giving me a hard time the entire time I was there.”

  Amanda winced and looked away guiltily.

  “She didn’t know,” Beatrice interrupted. “I had it, and I hadn’t told them that I had found it.”

  The detective looked at her coolly. “And why did you keep it once you found it? You knew that it was being looked for.”

  Shrugging helplessly, Beatrice said, “I just know that it’s tied to Letty’s death somehow. It’s some sort of clue.”

  “Clue?” Keller crossed his arms. “Are you running some sort of investigation?”

  �
�I just want to find out what happened to her,” Beatrice said defensively. “Letty didn’t just die.”

  Detective Keller shook his head. A note of sympathy crept into his voice. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “But sometimes people really do just die.”

  Beatrice shook her head, refusing to accept that explanation.

  “Where did you find it?” he asked, suddenly sounding tired.

  “It was in the shop,” Beatrice admitted. “Buried under a bunch of shoes.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that Letty stole it,” Amanda said indignantly. “You didn’t know our godmother; she was the best person on the planet.”

  Winnie nodded her agreement. “She wasn’t a thief.”

  “That’s not yours to decide,” the detective said.

  Beatrice watched the exchange guiltily. She knew that Rena had brought the purse to Letty, but she hadn’t found out yet why, and she wasn’t willing to put the teenager in the sights of the police detective. The teen had enough problems.

  Keller rubbed the back of his head like he was trying to rid himself of a headache. “I understand that none of you stole it, and that you’re all in shock with your godmother’s death, but that doesn’t excuse what you’ve chosen to do.”

  Without saying another word, he turned and walked away, carrying the purse with him.

  Chastised, Amanda and Winnie settled back into their seats. All three Concordia sisters stared glumly at their breakfasts. A heavy silence settled over them.

  “Well, that went well,” Winnie finally said.

  “Now he’ll never look into Letty’s death,” Beatrice lamented.

  “We have other things to worry about.” Amanda turned to Winnie. “Did you really hire a lawyer to fight Perkins?”

  Winnie shrugged. “I had a friend in New Jersey send a threatening letter.”

  “Is that even valid in Florida?” Amanda asked.

  “It’s enough to buy us some time,” Winnie replied.

  “Time for what?”

  “Time to figure out the store and time to find out why Letty had a stolen purse in her possession.”

  Beatrice perked up hopefully. “Does that mean that you believe me? Do you believe me that something bad happened to her?”

  Winnie shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m not willing to let someone else call all the shots.”

  Amanda nodded. “Even though it’s uncomfortable, Letty deserves that we find out the truth.”

  “The first thing we have to do,” Winnie said, “is find out how she got the purse.”

  Beatrice nodded and looked away.

  Amanda narrowed her eyes. “You already know that, don’t you?”

  Beatrice bit her lip.

  “Come on,” Winnie urged. “If we’re going to do this, we should be doing this together. Tell us what you know.”

  “Tell them,” Pim urged from Beatrice’s pocket, “it’s not like you’re making much progress on your own.”

  She slapped her hand over her pocket to silence him. “I know how she got the purse,” she began carefully. “I just don’t know why she held on to it.”

  “How?” Amanda asked.

  “Rena gave it to her.”

  “Rena?” Amanda parroted.

  “Apparently, she brought a lot of stuff into the store,” Beatrice explained. “Letty would give her cash for it instead of waiting for it to sell like she did with the rest of the consigners.”

  “So, we think Rena stole it?”

  Beatrice shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “But we don’t know for sure,” Winnie said.

  “No. Just like we don’t know why Letty hid it under a pile of shoes,” Bea countered.

  “Or why there was a memory card in it,” Pim added, but only Bea could hear him.

  And she wasn’t about to share that clue with anyone.

  36

  After the Concordia sisters had glumly finished their breakfast, Beatrice refusing to eat anything, just drinking her coffee, they decided to return to the shop. Before doing so, Amanda and Winnie carried the used coffee cups back inside.

  “Chin up, buttercup,” Pim urged.

  Beatrice fought the urge to slap her pocket to silence him.

  “It’s not that bad,” he said.

  “It’s not that bad?” she muttered under her breath, covering her mouth so passersby couldn’t see that she was talking to herself.

  “No.”

  “The cop thinks that we stole the purse.”

  “Winnie’s right, you exaggerate. He doesn’t think you stole the purse. He thinks you hid the stolen purse. There’s a difference.”

  “I’m willing to guess I can get arrested for both,” she said.

  “I’m willing to guess he’s not going to arrest any of you,” he said.

  Beatrice didn’t answer as Amanda and Winnie emerged from the coffee shop.

  “Time to get to work,” Amanda said with false cheeriness.

  “Yay,” Winnie replied as sarcastically as a human being was capable of.

  Despite herself, Beatrice found herself grinning at her sisters’ antics.

  Amanda walked ahead with the dog, and Winnie pushed Beatrice along the path.

  Just as they were about to pass Ash’s place, a man in a suit and tie hurried up to them. “Where is he?”

  Beatrice took in the man. His nose was narrow, his chin nonexistent, and his eyes darted back-and-forth more quickly than a squirrel during foraging season. She took an immediate and visceral dislike to him.

  “Are you looking for Ash?” Winnie asked.

  “Yes, we were supposed to meet first thing this morning. I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to stand around waiting for him.”

  “What time was your meeting for?” Winnie asked.

  Beatrice had to admire how her sister always managed to maintain a professional decorum, even when people were irritating. It was a skill that Beatrice knew she, herself, did not possess. She would have snapped at the man, so she made a point of keeping her mouth shut.

  “Two minutes ago,” the man said, pointing at his watch.

  Beatrice looked at it with interest as he lowered his hand to his side, bringing it to almost eye-level. It was high-end, but as she studied the jerky movement of the second hand, she was pretty sure it was a fake.

  She was beginning to think that just about everything in this town was a fake…watches, purses, people.

  “I’m sure he’ll be here at any moment,” Winnie said. “Maybe you want to go down to the coffee shop and wait for him.” She pointed the way.

  “I don’t want to wait for him at all.”

  At that moment, Ash’s truck squealed into the parking spot in front of his shop. Dressed in his usual uniform of a t-shirt and jeans, Ash leapt out. “So sorry I’m late,” he said, “I was—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the man said dismissively, interrupting him. “I want to see it now.”

  Ash nodded. “Sure, no problem.”

  He swung himself up over the ramp, which meant he had to pass Winnie and Beatrice to get to his shop. “Morning, ladies.”

  “Good morning,” Winnie said with a smile.

  Bea just nodded at him, still miffed about his behavior the night before.

  Ash unlocked his front door and pushed it open so the man could walk inside.

  “I’ve got it in the back,” he began to explain, but the man barreled inside, anxious to see whatever it was Ash had for him.

  Instead of following him, Ash turned back to the sisters. “Hey,” he said to Beatrice, “I’m sorry if I was snarky last night. I was a little worried and…” He trailed off, hoping that she’d accept his apology.

  “It’s okay,” she told him, not sure she was ready to forgive him. “Go take care of business.”

  Nodding, he said, “When I’m done with him, I’m coming over to see you.” He dashed inside the store.

  With that, Winnie again began to push the wheelchair. “You like him.”

&n
bsp; Beatrice shrugged. “He’s cute.”

  “He’s a nice guy,” Winnie said. “I thought you only go for bad boys.”

  “People can change,” Bea said. But in her heart, she wasn’t sure if that was true for herself. She’d done a lot of soul searching as she’d tossed and turned the night before, and she’d come to the conclusion that if she’d just shared her plans to search for Rena, a lot of misunderstandings and tensions could have been avoided.

  Before they could discuss it further, Harmony bustled up to them.

  “There you are,” she cried as though she had been looking for them.

  “Good morning,” Beatrice said.

  “I brought you this.” Harmony held out a stone dangling on a chain.

  The sisters looked at it doubtfully. “It’s a moonstone pendulum,” she explained. “It might help you stabilize your abilities,” she said. “I thought that between that and the crystals—” She trailed off as she saw the look of disbelief on Winnie’s face.

  “Thank you,” Beatrice said, reaching forward and taking the pendulum. She wasn’t proud. She would take all the help she could get if it meant figuring out what had happened to Letty. “It was very nice of you.”

  Harmony looked from her, then back to Winnie’s unhappy face, then back to Beatrice. “If there’s anything I can do to help, anything at all…”

  “We have to get to the shop,” Winnie said. “It looks like we’ve got a customer.” Beatrice and Harmony both looked at the entry to One Woman’s Junk and saw a short, slight balding man in a shirt covered with flamingos, carrying a big cardboard box, staggering up to the front door. “Amanda may need our help,” Winnie said, she began pushing Beatrice’s wheelchair.

  “Thanks again,” Beatrice called over her shoulder to Harmony.

  “I’m always here,” Harmony promised.

  “You didn’t have to be rude to her,” Beatrice berated Winnie.

  “But I don’t have to encourage the delusions of you and everybody else about psychic powers,” Winnie said. “I don’t believe in them.”

  “Well, I do,” Beatrice said. “And that’s how I’m going to figure out what happened to Letty.”