A Hard Bargain (2 page)

It was a struggle, but I remained professional. “What color is it?”

“It’s red and has a duck head handle. It’s really the best umbrella I’ve ever had. It opens so smoothly, and it dries off in minutes. I bought it out of Riverside Rural catalog. I suppose I could order another, but they’re all out of red.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Patricia.”

She looked worried. “Do you charge a lot for something like this?”

“Consider it a favor.”

“Thank you, Madeline. That’s very generous. I know you want to get established here in town.”

And if it takes finding red umbrellas with duck head handles, then I’ll do it. “I’ll look around and get back to you.”

Jerry had managed to keep a straight face during all this. He waited until we were back on the street before laughing.

“Could you call this an open and shut case?”

“Only if I find the damn thing.”

“Sorry, Mac. Life can’t be all thefts and murder.”

“If finding her umbrella brings me some good P.R. and more business, I can’t complain.” It wasn’t the kind of business I’d hoped for, but I had to remind myself this was Celosia, not Parkland, and I’d made the choice to move here. Still, I didn’t want all my cases to be so dinky.

Jerry and I walked back down Main Street toward my office.

“Voltage Films,” he said. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“I’ll bet Georgia would know.”

We stopped in Georgia’s Books, the large, exceptionally well-stocked bookstore on Main Street, and asked the owner, Georgia Taylor, if she’d ever heard of Voltage Films. Georgia is a slim, efficient woman of about sixty with auburn tinted hair and half glasses she wears on a pearl necklace. She peered over her glasses.

“They’re probably listed in one of the film guides.” She pointed. “Right down there next to the movie magazines.”

We looked in several guides before finding a listing for Voltage Films.

“‘A small, independent company specializing in thought-provoking and experimental films,’” Jerry read aloud. “‘Recent films include “Heart Songs,” “Cabbages on the Windowsill,” and “The Ever-Prevailing Theory of Invisibility.”’” He grimaced. “Doesn’t sound like they make the kind of movies that go well with popcorn.”

“If they pay well for the use of the house, that won’t matter.”

“That’s true, but I was kind of hoping for something more exciting than cabbages on the windowsill.”

“I’m sure that’s a metaphor for blood, guts, and fast cars.”

Georgia had followed us down the aisle. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, thanks,” I said.

“Has it anything to do with the movie company that’s coming here? I haven’t seen the town in such an uproar.”

“Yes, Voltage Films is the name of the company.”

“Well, they haven’t even gotten here yet, and they’re already causing a wealth of confusion.” She readjusted her half glasses. “Madeline, I may have a case for you.”

Great, I thought. She probably needs a subscription renewed.

“Hayden and I have noticed some things out of place. I’m afraid we have a shoplifter. I was wondering if you could come in and walk around the store and keep an eye out for our culprit.”

“Of course.”

“We think it’s one of the Yates boys, but we’re not sure. They’re usually in here in the late afternoon. I hate to accuse anyone, but I know my store and what’s in it, and things are not where they’re supposed to be.”

“When would you like me to start?”

“Whenever you could drop by. Hayden is coming in after lunch. He can tell you more about it.”

Jerry and I thanked her for the use of the video guide and left the store.

“Shoplifting. Now that’s more like it,” Jerry said.

“Yep. A regular crime wave.”

We walked on to the Arrow Insurance building near the end of Main Street.

“Okay,” I said, “don’t expect much, but it’s a start.”

Once inside the building, we took a short walk down the hall to my office. Jerry admired the sign on the door.

“Wish I had my camera,” he said.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open for him to enter. I had a small but serviceable desk, a new beige filing cabinet, and two chairs, a swivel chair for me and a beige and green armchair for my clients.

Jerry plopped into the armchair. “This is nice. It’ll make people feel comfortable when discussing those embarrassing secrets.”

“I hope so.” I sat down in the swivel chair. “The computer and printer will be delivered next Monday. The phone lines are already in.”

The window offered a view of the side yard, grass and trees and the swing set in the backyard of the neighboring house, a far cry from my hot little cubicle in Parkland. There, I had a splendid view of bricks.

Jerry looked around at the bare walls. “Any plans for decoration?”

“How about a big picture of me as Miss Parkland? That would inspire confidence.”

He grinned. “I was thinking a couple of original landscapes would brighten up the place.”

My glare warned him to drop the subject. At one time, I’d dreamed of a career as an artist. Lately, the urge had surfaced, but I kept pushing it down. The memory of my one disastrous show was still too painful.

“Maybe I’ll just get a big fish, like Ted,” I said.

As if invoking his name called him to my door, Ted Stacy looked in and said, “I thought I heard you in here. Good morning. Hi, Jerry. What do you think?”

“This is really nice,” Jerry said. “We were just saying all it needs a big fish on the wall.”

“Oh, I’ve got a new one. Come have a look.”

We walked next door to Ted’s office. An impressive sailfish was mounted above the bookcase.

“Wow, that is neat,” Jerry said.

“Took me five hours to land.”

As the guys talked about fishing, I indulged in one of my ongoing comparisons, in a desperate attempt to talk myself out of wanting Jerry. Here’s Ted Stacy, tall, dark, handsome, and successful, a real Southern gentleman, who arranged for me to rent the empty office in his building, who took me to dinner, complimented me, and made me feel welcome in Celosia without feeling I owed him anything in return.

And here’s Jerry. He’s not as tall as Ted, which means he’s not as tall as I am. His light brown hair has a tendency to stray. He could easily be the poster child for attention deficit disorder. He enjoys making people think he has connections with the spirit world and will relieve them of their money if they let him.

But that smile. Damn.

Ted finished his fish tale. “So I guess you’ve heard about the movie.”

“Yeah,” Jerry said. “I’m hoping they’ll use the Eberlin house for a set.”

“Depends on what kind of movie they’re making. I thought it was going to be one of those slice of life pictures where nothing happens but a lot of talking.”

“There has to be at least one car chase, or I’m not interested.”

“Excuse me?”

A timid voice made us turn. A dark-haired woman stood in the doorway clutching a large pocketbook. “I’d like to speak to Madeline Maclin,” she said.

“I’m Madeline Maclin,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

She looked anxiously at Jerry and Ted.

“Please come to my office,” I said.

The woman came into my office and sat down where Jerry had been sitting. “I’ve never hired a detective before. I’m not sure if I need one.”

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

She kept the pocketbook in her lap as if using it for a shield. “Well, it’s not exactly a problem now, but it’s going to be. My name is Frannie Thomas, and about six months ago, I let a man named Kirby Willet store some things in my downstairs guestroom. I wasn’t using it, and he needed a place to keep some things. I thought I was doing him a favor.”

“But he hasn’t come back for his stuff.”

Her eyes went wide. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I had a roommate like that once.”

“See, I didn’t really mind at first, but now my mother’s coming to live with me, and I need that room for her and her things.”

I had this solved already. Frannie Thomas was too shy to confront this freeloader. “You’d like someone to contact Mister Willet and tell him to come get his property.”

“That would be great, except I don’t know where he is.”

“He didn’t leave an address or phone number?”

“Oh, yes, but the phone’s been disconnected, and there’s no one living at that address anymore.”

“What kind of stuff are we talking about? Clothes? Books? Anything of value?”

She clutched her pocketbook tighter. “I don’t know. It’s all in boxes. I haven’t looked in them. I don’t want to go snooping through his things. I just want him to come get all that out of my room.”

“Okay. Why did you agree to store his things in the first place?”

“My friend Bernice Coleman told Kirby I had extra space in my house. He seemed like a nice man, just a little down on his luck. I wanted to help him out.”

“Your friend Bernice doesn’t know where he is?”

“No one knows where he is, and I haven’t the slightest idea of how to look for him. That’s when I thought of you. I figured if you found Juliet Lovelace’s murderer, you could find Kirby Willet.”

I was glad I already had a good reputation in town, but Juliet’s case had been overloaded with suspects. This case had the slimmest of clues. Still, it was a case. “I’ll need to have a look at the boxes. There might be something in one that can help me locate Mister Willet.”

“Can you come tomorrow afternoon around four? I’ll be over at mother’s till then helping her pack.”

We agreed on a time and my fee. Frannie Thomas took her pocketbook and left. I went back to Ted’s office. Ted and Jerry were still talking about fish.

“If you want to go fishing, the best place around here is Carson’s Lake. I’ve pulled bass out of there by the bucket loads.” Ted spread his hands apart. “One this big, I swear.”

“I have another case,” I said.

“Great,” Jerry said. “Murder? Kidnapping? Drug busting?”

“Leftover boxes.”

“Boxes full of money?”

“That would be nice. Are you guys setting up a fishing trip?”

“Next week, Carson’s Lake. Want to go?”

I tried to remember if I’d ever been fishing. “Sure.” And then I said something that always gets me into trouble. “I don’t think this case is going to take me very long.”

***

Jerry’s negotiating with his pal Buddy to buy Buddy’s Volkswagen Bug, so my blue Mazda’s been our only form of transportation lately. As we got in the car, I gave him a sideways look. “Speaking of money, how’s your cash flow these days?”

“Except for the ten bucks you owe me, no problem.”

I thought there was a big problem. Jerry has declined his share of the Fairweather fortune, but somehow always has plenty of money. I know whatever he charges for his séances and Ouija board readings couldn’t be enough to live on.

“When are you going to tell me about this mysterious bankroll of yours?”

“No mystery. I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

He wasn’t going to tell me, and I knew from past experience that nagging wouldn’t help. I changed the subject. “Did you look at the college catalogue?”

“Still thinking about that.”

In an attempt to steer Jerry in some direction, I’d suggested he take some classes at Parkland Community College. He’s never done anything with his history degree. I thought he’d make a good teacher. He’s smart and entertaining and likes kids. He’s even mentioned he might like teaching. That was several wild schemes ago, back before he inherited the Eberlin house. I refuse to give up. The fact that he’s kept the house and decided to live in it is a huge step toward settling down.

Celosia’s such a small town it doesn’t take long before you’re out in the country. A couple of turns, and we were on the road to the Eberlin house. Even though the July morning was hot, I left the windows down so I could smell the fresh air and honeysuckle. A few cows looked up as we passed the fields. Jerry, as was his custom, mooed at them. Kudzu vines twisted around the abandoned tobacco sheds and rail fences. We passed more fields until we came to our own, an expanse of long grass and clover that leads up to a large house surrounded by oak trees.

“Jerry, you’re right. The house would be perfect for a horror movie.”

He pretended to be insulted. “You have to admit it looks a lot better than the first time we saw it.”

“It still has a long way to go.” I saw a flash of gray and white as a mockingbird sailed over the daylilies to perch on the battered mailbox at the end of the driveway. “Too early for the mail?”

“I’ll check.”

I stopped, and he got out to see if the mail had come. I gave the house another look. I’m still staying in one of the upstairs bedrooms. At first, living in the same house as Jerry was a throwback to our co-ed college dorm. We ate junk food, we talked about our day, watched TV on his new giant screen television. We still do those things, but now that there’s a chance for a permanent relationship, I find myself thinking of the Eberlin house as home.

Jerry got back in the car. “Nope, not yet.”

Not yet.

I drove up and parked beside the white van under the large trees in the front yard. We got out and walked up the porch steps.

“Let’s see what Nell’s done so far.” He pushed open the screen door and called up the stairs. “Nell, are you through yet?”

“Hold on,” came her voice. “I’m coming down.”

Nell had on her work clothes, grubby white paint-splattered overalls and sneakers. Her dirty blonde hair was stuck in a ponytail and covered with a white baseball cap. She gave Jerry a look from her small blue eyes. “Don’t touch anything till I say so.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And get me a beer.”

Jerry keeps a supply for her in the fridge. Nell followed us into the kitchen. Jerry got her a beer and one for himself. I chose a Diet Coke.

Nell popped her beer can open and took a swig. “So when’s this movie crew going to arrive in town?”

I haven’t been in Celosia a month, but already I’ve found out that Nell hears and knows everything. “Patricia’s going to let us know.”

Nell nodded. “Wouldn’t mind having a look at Lance Henderson. Been watching him for years.”