by Dana Mentink
“I don’t know, but Candy found an old penny candy machine in Lupin’s belongings. I think she dumped out the candy and reused it at her open house before they sold the candy machine at the flea market.”
“Man, that’s cheap.”
“Uh-huh.”
She walked along the sidewalk back towards town, Quinn and Doug following. When they got close to the shop, Noodles stretched, unrolled himself from his cushion on the porch, and greeted them all with a tail wag. Doug scratched his ears.
“Okay, we’re looking for a penny. But why are we walking through town? Do you think Kevin bought the candy machine? You think it’s still in his shop?”
“No. I think if it had been there, you wouldn’t have gotten bashed on the head. It’s still missing, and I’m sure it’s not at the Popcorn Palace.”
“Okay. How about Warren’s van? You mentioned that flyer that somehow made it out of his rear door. Could be he swiped the machine and stowed it in the van but somehow lost it again.”
“It’s not lost; it’s at the theater.”
“It is?” Quinn returned the phone to Doug. “And no one suspects what might be in it?”
She nodded. “That’s my guess. Maybe they didn’t open it up. I think that was what you believed was a fish bowl in Juliette’s photos. I saw the machine in the theater lobby, so Cora must have bought it to refurbish. I thought I’d go take a peek while everyone is at the memorial.”
He grinned. “Life sure has gotten exciting since I met you.” His gaze was so focused, so kind. Warmth circled in her chest before nerves took over.
“A bit too exciting,” she blurted. “How’s your head?”
“Throbbing, but still functioning, at least as well as it did before, which isn’t saying much. I wish I could think like you do. Incredible putting those candy clues together. You are really something.”
She felt like a junior high school kid, awkward, shy, and completely thrilled by the compliment. “Oh, well, we haven’t found any treasures yet,” she managed. “It’s only a far-fetched theory at this point.”
They continued past her store, along the sidewalk, sweating in the sunlight. “Come here, sweetie.” She reached down, and Noodles leapt into her arms. “It’s too hot for your paws.”
“Let me,” Quinn insisted, but Doug reached in between them and gathered the dog to his chest.
“I guess you’re buddies,” Quinn said.
Doug nodded.
Trinidad went all melty inside at the growing bond between Doug and Noodles.
The theater was surrounded by a thick colony of overgrown trees, which dropped a carpet of needles onto the roof, but it also provided a blessedly cool spot to reconnoiter. Doug put Noodles down so he could nose about near the old wooden steps.
“Keep your eyes peeled for a squirrel with a cup of sugar cubes,” she told him. “I’m not sure the door will be unlocked, but I thought I might be able to catch a peek at it through the side panes. I vaguely remember seeing it. Cora’s a DIYer, so I don’t think it’s red anymore.”
The windows on either side of the once-grand door were panes of beveled glass, partitioned with wrought iron veins. She peered through the glass, Quinn looking over the top of her head.
“I can’t see it,” she said. “It’s tucked behind the curtain. Let’s try the door.”
Under the pressure of her hand, the warm metal knob turned, and the door swung open.
She gave Quinn a look. “Is this a good idea with a killer on the loose?”
“Probably not,” he said.
“And we’re going to do it anyway, aren’t we?”
He chuckled. “I am happy to be Watson to your Sherlock.”
Prickles danced again along her spine, but she lifted a casual shoulder. “You know what they say about pennies.”
“What?” His brow wrinkled. “Hold on, I forgot. Give me a minute.”
She smiled and pushed the door open. “In for a penny…”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s the one…in for a pound.” He frowned. “Actually, I’ve had enough pounding lately.” He edged in front of her. “But, just in case, I’ll go first.”
Teeth clenched and fingers crossed, she followed him in.
Chapter Fifteen
Cool, musty air bathed her face as they stepped into the gloomy interior. She didn’t figure there was anything wrong with taking a look around since the door hadn’t been locked. Nonetheless, she found herself whispering as if they were a pair of cat burglars.
“It should be right inside there.” She reached out to push past a heavy drape that was cinched to the wall in the middle by a fancy tasseled rope. Before her fingertips found the fabric, there was a clang of metal and a crash from the darkness beyond. Her heart whammed in her chest.
Noodles careened through the front door and inside.
“No, Noodles,” she whispered, but he’d plunged past before she could stop him.
“I’ll call the police,” she started to say, but Quinn elbowed her aside and darted ahead.
There was a shout, a man’s voice.
Not Quinn’s.
She raced in, searching for the switch that would activate the vintage pendant lights. Where was it? The theater was ink-dark, save for some dim illumination at the foot of the stage, but she didn’t want to waste time fumbling to find her cell phone flashlight.
“Stop,” Quinn yelled. He sprinted up the center aisle. Further ahead she could see a shadowed figure, large and heading quickly towards the stage, with Noodles right behind him. Whoever it was could not move as quickly as the dog or Quinn. In a moment, there was a grunt as Quinn and the stranger fell in a tangle of limbs.
Noodles barked at a deafening level. He was not a biter by nature, but the dog took his barking seriously. The switch. She had to find the switch.
Finally, her frantic patting paid off, and she slapped it on. The light temporarily dazzled her vision. Near her feet was the overturned penny candy machine. Blinking hard, she jumped over it and ran up the aisle to find Quinn kneeling on top of a prone figure. She finally made the identification.
“Warren,” she said panting. “What are you doing here?”
“If this gorilla would get off my back, I’ll tell you,” he grunted, face pressed to the floor. “And call off the dog, wouldja?”
She succeeded in quieting Noodles and getting him to sit.
Quinn clambered to his feet, hands on his hips. “Go ahead and explain.”
“I shouldn’t have to explain anything.” Warren got up and retrieved a screwdriver from under a seat where it had rolled after he’d dropped it. “I work at this place, volunteer anyway. This here is a second home to me.”
Quinn pointed to the screwdriver. “And you had a sudden urge to fix something in the middle of the memorial?”
She couldn’t tell exactly, but she thought he might have blushed. “I was…I mean…well…” He stopped. “There was a break-in. I was checking around to see if anything was taken.”
Warren must have read the skeptical look on the faces staring back at him. “No, really. Come and see.”
Warily, they followed him to a window on the far side of the lobby almost hidden from the road by a tangle of shrubs. “Look.”
The window was indeed broken, a hole about the size of a fist indicated that there had been an intruder.
Warren shrugged. “See? I told you so. I saw the glass on the ground when I got here. The window was still fastened, so I must have scared someone off.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here with a screwdriver in hand,” she said.
“Hey, it’s a good thing I was here. Burglars and murders and all. That’s why we’ve started locking the front door so whoever it was had to bust in.” His eyes narrowed. “Figure I got more of an excuse to be here than you two.”
Quinn stared at him. “You first. Take it one question at a time. How did you get in?”
“He borrowed the keys from me,” a voice said. Cora stood behind them, arms crossed. “When Pastor Phil got about five minutes into his spiel, Mr. Handy Man Warren said he’d forgotten his phone in the bathroom. I thought that sounded like a bunch of hooey. A man can’t lose his phone that often unless he’s trying to.”
Warren let out a breath from deep inside his chest. “Aww, shoot.”
“Then you kiddos took off after the squirrels. More like a three-ring circus than a memorial. So, let’s try the truth, shall we?” Cora said. “All of it. Right now. I missed out on a free buffet to follow you, and I’m hot and cranky, so quit stalling.”
Warren swallowed audibly. “Okay. I came back to look for something.”
Cora looked pained. “Please don’t waste my time with the cell phone lie again. You wouldn’t need a screwdriver to retrieve that from the men’s room.”
“No, it wasn’t the phone,” he admitted. “Anyway, when I was going to let myself in, I noticed the broken glass and heard someone running away. That part is completely true. Someone really was breaking in. Can you believe that? Busted out the window and everything.”
“We saw the glass,” Quinn confirmed. “But the window was still closed, so whoever it was didn’t get in.”
Cora rolled her eyes. “I had no idea the theater was so amazing that people would break and enter to get a seat.”
Warren grinned broadly. “See? Isn’t that something? We do good plays, what can I say?” His smile faded as his joke did not elicit any apparent softening from Cora.
“What were you looking for, Warren?” she demanded.
“You won’t believe it, actually.”
“No doubt it’s something ludicrous, but try me anyway.”
Trinidad stepped in. “I think he was trying to pry open the penny candy machine.”
Cora gaped. “That old thing? Why? Are you that desperate for a sugar fix? There isn’t even any candy in it yet. I bought the machine empty.”
“No candy,” Trinidad said, “but since the machine belonged to Edward Lupin before Sonny bought the contents of his storage unit, you think there’s a valuable coin in it, don’t you, Warren?” She saw him twitch and she knew she’d hit on the truth. He’d come to the same conclusion she had. What better time than the memorial to snoop around unnoticed?
He massaged a shoulder as if he’d strained a muscle. “To be honest, I’d be gobsmacked if there was anything but lint inside, but I heard everyone talking at the open house. Candy was playing it up like if someone bought the place they might find Lupin’s treasure. I heard the Martin twins talking about coins. I couldn’t get the thought of a priceless coin out of my mind. I remembered seeing the penny candy machine, and…”
“When?” Trinidad asked.
“Huh?”
“Where and when did you first see the machine?”
He pursed his lips. “Here, a few days ago. It appeared in the lobby like magic.”
Cora snorted. “Magic is also known as hard work. I bought it at the flea market. I thought if I fixed it up, it would look good in the lobby, and maybe we could keep the kiddies entertained. But I haven’t had a chance to fill it with candy yet.”
Trinidad watched them carefully. “Nowhere else? You didn’t see it before then?”
Warren shrugged. “How would I have seen it otherwise?”
“Behind the Popcorn Palace?” Quinn said.
Warren glared. “Whaddya mean? I didn’t take anything from Kevin’s, and I certainly didn’t clobber him.”
Cora shook her head. “Your theory is wrong, Trinidad. Kevin never had a chance to buy it. I happened to be at the flea market early, the first customer, in fact. Donald was unloading the unwanted stuff from the storage unit Sonny Petrakis bought. I saw it rolled in plastic. I purchased it on the spot before it was even unwrapped,” Cora said.
Trinidad decided to take a risk and fixed Warren with a look. “Or you could have seen it when you were snooping around in Juliette’s storage unit. That’s where you lost your cell phone, isn’t it? You were retrieving it the night my dog got loose.”
He huffed out a breath, his tone a shade too glib. “Nah. I was just driving. I like to drive in out of the way places.”
Another lie, Trinidad thought. Warren scanned the expressions on the faces of his interrogators. “Oh, all right. I admit I was poking around Store Some More on Sunday, the night before the auction. I figured maybe I could pick the lock or something and just take a peek is all, just to see if there really was something valuable. But, when I got there, someone was already on the property. I heard whoever it was walking around real quiet like, with a flashlight. Then Juliette showed up, and I scrammed because I didn’t want to explain why I was there. I dropped my phone in the grass. It took me an age to find it with all the hubbub around here lately. Finally located it behind the birdbath. That’s the truth. I never did see inside Lupin’s unit, and I didn’t know anything about the candy machine until I saw it in the lobby. Figured Cora bought it at the flea market and…well, you know the rest.”
“At least you got that part correct,” Cora said. “Like I said, I snagged the candy machine before it could go to market.” Cora shrugged. “I’m into vintage. I paid twenty bucks for it,” she added.
“I’ll bet it’d be worth fifty if the glass wasn’t cracked,” Warren said automatically. His expression went sheepish. “I like to do online research.”
Cora raked him with a look. “That’s part of your problem, Warren. You like to do way too many things online. The red paint was flaking off everywhere, and he’s right, there’s a crack in the glass. Even with my spiffy new yellow paint job, it’s probably not even worth the twenty I forked over.”
“Unless there’s something valuable inside,” Warren said.
“So, you came here to see if there was a rare coin in the penny candy machine,” Trinidad said.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Did you follow him here?” Cora said. “Are you a private eye now in addition to churning out ice cream?”
Now it was Trinidad’s turn to look sheepish. “It started out with a squirrel chase, but yes, we came in search of the machine, too, actually,” she admitted. “But we weren’t going to open it up without your permission.”
“Oh, sure. I believe that.” Cora sniffed. “And what about you? If you had found this priceless coin?” She skewered Warren with a look. “Would you have told me about it so we could split the profits?”
Warren flashed her a toothy grin. “’Course I would.”
“Yeah. I’m sure. Maybe, after you paid off your debts and ran away to some tropical hideaway, you’d send me a postcard.” She grabbed the screwdriver from his hand. “Before I call the police to report the broken window and tell Bigley all about my parade of visitors, we might as well see if your harebrained idea is correct. I doubt there’s anything in there. I would have heard it jingling around when I was painting.”
She marched back up to the fallen penny candy machine, which was now a cheerful taxicab color. “I painted it myself and turned the glass so the crack doesn’t show. If you damaged it any further, so help me…” Slipping the screwdriver into a tiny divot, she twisted a metal plate free. Rolling the entire machine, she stuck in the screwdriver and pried loose a couple of coins secreted in the interior. They tumbled out, twirled and spun on the aged wooden floor. “Well, I guess there were a few coins in there after all.”
All of them crowded nearer to see.
Cora was closest, and she peered and poked at the collection until she straightened, holding up a silver coin. “Here’s your treasure Warren. A genuine Canadian nickel. Don’t spend it all in one place. Aside from that, looks like our windfall is twelve cents in change, none if it older than 1972.”
> Trinidad felt suddenly foolish…foolish and depressed. She’d not accomplished one thing with her great sleuthing skills except upsetting Cora and making an idiot of herself.
Warren’s shoulders fell. “I should have known. The only kind of luck I have is the bad kind.”
She scooped up the coins and handed them to Trinidad. “Here you go. Welcome to Sprocket. Land of the misguided treasure hunters. Buy some extra sprinkles for your shop, and don’t sneak into my theater again.”
“But, Cora…” Warren started.
“I’m going to call the police about the broken window, but my advice to you, all of you, is quit making fools of yourselves looking for a treasure that doesn’t exist. It’s not worth wasting your life on.”
Trinidad thought suddenly about Kevin, who was being memorialized while they lingered at the theater chasing phantom pennies. She was certain he must have unknowingly gotten his hands on something that was worth so much that he’d been killed for it. If it wasn’t a precious coin, what could it be?
She dreaded what the chief would have to say when Cora told her about their theater adventure. They trudged back to the store, Doug carrying Noodles. By then the memorial service had ended, and folks were returning to their businesses. At the Shimmy and Shake Shop, Doug deposited Noodles gently on his cushion. Quinn offered to help Trinidad with her ice cream duties, but she declined. Instead she rounded up the two promised pints of ice cream and handed them over, resisting the urge to rebutton Quinn’s shirt correctly in the process.
“Ice cream for Orville, and the brownies are for you two. Please tell Orville that his truck was a lifesaver.”
Quinn laughed. “He’ll be happy to hear it. I’ll tell him. Are you sure you don’t want to hang onto it for a while? Your grandpa and I could go up to Three Egg Lake with samples. Stir up some business.”
“That is a fantastic idea, but it will have to wait. I’ve got a bunch of ice creams to churn, and then I’m going to see Juliette.”
He nodded. “I wish we could have found something that might hint at another motive for Kevin’s murder.”
