Lucky Stuff (Jane Wheel Mysteries) (17 page)

“The buyer, Mom,” said Jane. “Tell her it’s fine. Weird, but fine.”

Jane was using the paper and masking tape that Melinda had provided to make a sign for the built-in book case in the hall. With smaller items, like books, Jane was leaving notes that said she was okay with leaving whatever remained on the shelves. Melinda was following her listing figures that Jane threw out so they could negotiate a final price for the contents. Melinda had two large cartons for smaller items Jane wanted to subtract from the contents. Jane removed eleven books from the shelf, signed first editions that she cared about. Seven of them had been gifts from Charley and four of them had been scavenged from estates, missed by the book guys and discovered by Jane. She was relieved that she hadn’t boxed them up for the movers, but surprised that there were only eleven that she wanted.

“Take that one,” said Nellie, pointing out a hardcover on the top shelf that Nellie herself couldn’t reach.

“No book jacket, Mom, so its value isn’t really that great,” said Jane, squinting at it to read the title. “Oh my god, you’re right,” said Jane.

It was a gift edition of
Little Women
. It had come with a cover and cardboard slipcase that Jane had mislaid long ago. It wasn’t a valuable book, but when Jane opened the cover she saw the note from her grandmother.
For Jane on her eighth birthday.
Below it, Jane had written her name in shaky cursive.

“How did you spot that?” asked Jane, placing the book in the box.

Nellie shrugged. “Just thought twelve was a luckier number than eleven.”

Jane looked at her mother, already sprinting ahead into the kitchen. She barely made it to five feet and her eyes were thirty plus years older than Jane’s. Had she spotted the title, thought of its sentimental value, or just wanted Jane to go out with a dozen books? Nellie was superstitious and had an internal divining rod for four-leaf clovers, but Jane hadn’t really seen Nellie using her powers out in the wild.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you. Bruce called this morning while you were in the shower and I told him he could meet us here,” said Nellie, shaking her head at the sorry state of Jane’s pots and pans.

“What?” asked Jane. “Stop calling him Bruce, Mom.”

“It’s his name, ain’t it?” asked Nellie. “What do you call him? There is nothing in this kitchen that you want, right?”

Jane shook her head. She had packed up all of her vintage tablecloths, her fiesta ware and Hall china, her Hazel Atlas juice glasses, her Heisy pitchers and punchbowl, and all of the other brightly colored kitchenalia that she had accumulated over the last twenty or so years and it was gone, either stuck in the back of a truck or moldering in the back of a stranger’s storage locker. The pots and pans and detritus of twenty years of failed attempts at cooking and binders filled with take-out menus could easily be left behind. Her red formica kitchen set was a good one, but did she really want it to define her new kitchen, wherever her new kitchen happened to be?

“We can take the table and chairs,” said Nellie. “I’ll put them in the basement and Dad and I’ll keep them if you can’t use them.”

“Do you really want them?” asked Jane.

“Nope,” said Nellie.

Jane was touched. Her mother was really trying to help.

“We’ll let them go,” said Jane. “For now, anyway. We’ll put a good price on them and see what happens when we add everything together.”

Melinda nodded at the figure thrown out by Jane.

“Wise, dear,” said a familiar voice. “These retro kitchen sets have remained fairly desirable, but I’ll be able to find you another,” said Claire Oh, preceding her husband into the kitchen.

Jane was always startled by Claire’s low throaty voice. It seemed to come from somewhere other than this impeccably groomed stately woman. When she described the high-end antiques and objets’ d’art that she dealt with in her business, Claire always made the items sound provocative, dangerous, like something it might be naughty to own.

“This Capodimonte porcelain stallion? Perfect for the master bedroom,” Claire would croon and the North Shore matrons would eat it up. Jane hardly believed Claire would stoop to scavenge for a fifties dinette set.

“Claire thought she might be of some help, Mrs. Wheel,” said Detective Oh, slightly bowing toward Nellie, who was shaking her head at Claire’s pronouncement.

“We already got Lowry to look for more junk. We’re here to get rid of crap,” said Nellie.

“Not that I agree with your mother’s assessment,” said Oh, “but it appears that many things have already disappeared.”

“Disappeared is exactly what they’ve done,” said Jane, with a smile.

Why did she feel so calm? Breathing new air? Was it the clean slate that Oh had described?

Jane had a few large pieces of luggage that she filled with some clothes from her dresser. There really weren’t many things she wanted to take, but the clothes needed to be either packed or donated. Melinda had some large heavy trash bags Jane filled with over a dozen worn black turtlenecks. Why did she own so many? All black? If Tim were here, he would analyze her dour fashion choices as the selections of a depressed woman, who thought she was dressing boho but instead was sporting hobo. Just the fact that Jane knew that was what Tim would say made her hear his voice in her ear.
Time for a new look. Time for some color. Time for …

“Beatrice would like to meet you, Jane,” said Melinda, from the door to the bedroom.

“I would like to meet her as well,” said Jane, turning to face the soon to be new mistress of the castle.

Beatrice had a wide open smile to which Jane immediately responded. How can you not like someone who likes your stuff? Beatrice came forward and shook Jane’s hand.

“I am so pleased that this is working out,” she said. Her voice was musical, with a clear bell tone. She had the slightest hint of an English accent. Jane, from her former career selecting commercial actors and actresses and voice-over talent, could detect accents, even those long tucked away in childhood.

“I am, too, of course,” said Jane. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky.”

Melinda shook her head slightly.

“It’s a beautiful home and I can tell you’ve cared for it lovingly,” said Beatrice and behind her, Melinda nodded. Jane realized she wasn’t supposed to act lucky, she was supposed to act businesslike.

“My realtor said he would try to be here, but wasn’t sure he could come over. He was shocked that you agreed I could be here while you walked through. I half think he didn’t believe you’d show up,” said Beatrice. She gestured to a large shopping bag and basket. “I stopped at the charming little purveyor on Central Street and brought a picnic lunch. I think I have enough for everyone.”

Nellie entered the bedroom in time to hear the last statement. She hefted the trash bag filled with Jane’s castoffs to take out to the car and said she’d bring in the pie she had brought from Kankakee.

This was turning into quite the party.

Jane gave Beatrice the list of items she would be taking. Two antique Persian carpets, three lamps, the elegant partner desk she had purchased from the Kendall estate in Kankakee and the leather chair and ottoman from the den. Although Jane had found most of the furniture piece by treasured piece, she now looked at each item with a different eye. If she wanted to replace it all, she could do it easily, probably with better pieces now that she really knew what she was doing. Her real treasures had flown the coop, so what was left, the remains, were mostly expendable. If she did move into a loft or a condo or a barn or a houseboat, the desk and the leather chair would keep her happy.

Beatrice had thought of everything for their picnic. She had brought paper plates and napkins and explained while laying everything out and opening containers of curried chicken salad and green beans vinaigrette and roasted vegetables and pesto pasta that she had been a transient for so long with her husband on the move for his job that she was over the moon about settling down on such a lovely block, in such a lovely neighborhood.

Claire asked her about her plans for the house and Beatrice began explaining that she had apprenticed to a decorator in London years earlier and was anxious to try her hand at bringing the house back to a kind of authentic twenties to thirties late-Arts-and-Craft style. Jane knew Arts and Crafts was not Claire Oh’s cup of tea, but that did not stop Claire from oohing and aahing over Beatrice’s ideas, handing over her business card and offering to find her any piece she might need.

“I have a matched set of bookcases that look like they were torn from this very house,” said Claire. “I do love uniting pieces, bringing together objects and places that belong together.”

Had Claire developed a slight British accent as well?

Detective Oh wandered into the living room as coffee and tea were being made in the kitchen and Jane followed.

“I apologize. Claire sensed a business opportunity and would not take no for an answer. I hope this isn’t too unpleasant for you,” said Oh.

“Not at all,” said Jane. “I cannot for the life of me figure out why, but I am totally fine with all of it. I feel no attachment here. Maybe if Nick were with me, or if my special stuff was here. But the house is so showcase-ready, it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. I actually feel sort of lighthearted … or maybe it’s lightheaded … but I like feeling nonattached. I don’t know if it will last, but…”

“It’s still my daughter’s house you know, so…”

Nellie had raised her voice and Jane looked at Oh, her new lightness rapidly replaced by the weighty realization of uh-oh-did-I-just-leave-Nellie-in-a-room-full-of-take-charge-women-who-don’t-know-she’s-the-boss?

Jane hurried into the kitchen, but by the time she got there, all were smiling with large slices of pie in front of them. Apparently Nellie didn’t like the way Beatrice was dishing out portions and took over. Now she was putting lids on containers and washing the counter.

“We tried to tell your mother to relax, that we’d clean up, but it wasn’t well received,” said Beatrice.

Melinda and Jane slipped off to look over the values Jane had assigned to the property and the sum came to well below what the buyers had offered for “contents.”

“Should we tell her she doesn’t have to pay as much?” said Jane.

Melinda patted Jane’s shoulder and shook her head. She made a quick call to a mover, who would pick up the desk and chair and lamps along with a few pieces of art that Jane wanted to keep. “Do they take it to your storage locker in Kankakee?” asked Melinda.

“No such thing,” said Jane. She gave Melinda her parents’ address. One side of their immaculate garage could house these few pieces until Jane decided where she would light.

Nellie had cleaned up the kitchen and was already making her second trip to Tim’s van with Jane’s suitcase. Oh had carried out the box that held books, Jane’s printer from the den, and a small portable file box which had Nick’s school and medical records, birth certificate, and last year’s tax returns. Jane looked over a few more papers that Melinda needed signed and gave her all the bank information needed for a wire transfer of the money.

“I just want you to know how pleased I am that my children will be going to school here and enjoying this neighborhood as your children did,” said Beatrice. “It’s a wonderful house. I can feel the warmth here, the—”

Jane gently cut her off. She still had no regrets, but she wasn’t sure how long she wanted this love fest with the Hartzell Street house to continue. “There’s plenty of life and love left in this house. I think you and your family are a great match for the place,” said Jane.

“You’re getting yourself a good deal,” said Nellie. “I told her to hold out and not take the first—”

Jane’s cell phone began to vibrate and as she reached for her pocket, she gave Melinda the eye and nodded toward Nellie. Melinda interrupted and began to point out that most of the older windows on the first floor had been replaced recently with a quality product.

The phone number of the caller was unfamiliar to Jane.

“Where the hell are you, Jane Wheel? Don’t you work for me anymore?”

“Lucky, I told you I’d be out of town today. I’m in—”

“Jeez, you townies think you can get away with murder. When you coming back?”

“I’ll be back in town in about two to three hours or so, depending on traffic, but you said you’d—”

“You got to come here, you got to come back,” said Lucky.

Was the man crying?

“Somebody’s messing with my stuff. Messing with me. Somebody’s messing with me real bad.”

14

Jane shook hands with Beatrice, who looked as if she was about to cry.

“I feel you in this house, your touch,” she said. “I wish I could have the house and you.” Beatrice then pulled her in for a tight hug.

When Jane and Nellie got into Tim’s van, Nellie reached over and manually locked her door. “I don’t want that woman throwing herself in here and riding home with us. What the hell is her deal? Jeez.”

Jane began laughing, then quickly looked out the windows and checked the mirrors. “You didn’t know I had such a magnetic attraction, did you?” she said as she pulled away from the curb and headed west to the highway.

“She’s a nut job,” said Nellie.

“But she’s a nut job with money, good taste, and a cash offer. In three days, my bank account will be huge,” said Jane. “I’ll be, well, I’ll be very comfortable, which is good since I don’t really have any…”

“Nobody has any retirement or pension anymore,” said Nellie.

“How’d you know what I was going to say?”

“I’m a genius. Jane, everybody’s worried about the same thing,” said Nellie. “Why the hell you think Dad and I keep working?”

“Because you love the EZ Way Inn? Because the regulars wouldn’t have any other place to go? Because you like ordering pies every day? Because you and Dad would drive each other crazy at home? Because you and Dad would kill each other?”

“We might, but nope. We can’t afford to retire, that’s all. Dad put money away, but he had it in some fund or something and I don’t know what the hell happened, but he asked me if we could go a few more years and I said what the hell, so…” Nellie stopped to count on her fingers. “That was about five years ago.”