Silver Six Crafting Mystery 01 - Basket Case Page 9

Lorna refilled our coffee cups once and left us to eat. I wondered if her bushy-bearded husband was in the kitchen but didn’t ask. The second time she brought refills, she plopped in the third chair to visit.

  “What are you girls up to today?” she asked with a smile.

  “I’m showing Nixy Lilyvale,” Sherry said, and I couldn’t miss that note of pride in her voice.

  “You’ve never been here? I didn’t realize.” Lorna waved a hand. “But then I stay so busy running the inn and café, I’m not always paying attention.”

  Sherry shook her head. “Lorna, you know about everything and everybody in town. You just don’t gossip.”

  Lorna grinned. “But I occasionally pass along news.”

  “Is there news this morning?”

  “It’s been strangely quiet upstairs. No stomping, yelling, or complaining from Her Royal Painness.”

  “Hellspawn?” I asked.

  Lorna grinned. “Is that what you call her?”

  “I discourage it,” Sherry said reprovingly, though her eyes sparkled, “but, yes. Nixy cuts to the chase.”

  “Well, neither she nor that assistant of hers, Trudy, came down for breakfast. Of course, Hellspawn—oh, I do like that!” Lorna flashed another wide smile at me. “She never eats much, which is probably why she’s so foul-tempered. Clark told me she nearly hit Bryan’s car yesterday. What a piece of work.”

  “So she’s still upstairs?” I said.

  Lorna shrugged. “I don’t know. She could’ve gone out the back way.”

  “There’s a back door?”

  “There’s an enclosed back staircase. It leads to the alley and parking lot. After café hours, or during them, for that matter, my guests can enter a personal code on the keypad to get in. The back stairs are a holdover from the saloon days, but it’s also a fire exit.”

  “That’s a nice safety feature,” I said, but I was thinking about Hellspawn being able to sneak in and out of the inn at will.

  The check paid a short while later, we thanked Lorna and headed into the spring morning. Businesses were beginning to open their doors, and some hauled merchandise out to display on the wide sidewalks.

  We walked the long way around the square where the main drag cut through downtown. The area held more charm now that I had a chance to enjoy it with Sherry. Round concrete planters as high as my knees stood here and there at the edge of the wide sidewalks, and each overflowed with lilies, daisies, and tulips, ivy draping over the sides. Some shops sported flat façades, while others had recessed doorways that emphasized large windows beside the doors. Colorful awnings over the stores invited strollers to stop and window-shop.

  I noticed clothing and shoe stores, and, somewhat surprisingly, a computer sales and service store. In the next two blocks, the Happy Garden Florist and Nightlife Restaurant marched alongside multiple attorney, CPA, and insurance offices. Really, for a small town, there were a lot of businesses on the square.

  “The antiques store is at the end of this next block,” Sherry said, hooking her arm through mine. “Then we’ll stop anywhere else you like.”

  Amazing aromas drifted out of the Great Buns Bakery and Coffee Shop as we strolled past. Next door, Virginia’s carried high-end jewelry, and then came Be Sweet, a candy and ice cream store advertising a big sale on boxed chocolates. Gaskin Business Center occupied a larger space, and the store window signs boasted mailboxes for rent, UPS service, packing materials, office supplies, and printing and photocopying services.

  As we neared Square Deal Antiques (and Collectibles, the sign read in subtitle), Trudy, Hellspawn’s assistant, blew through the door, smiling, almost skipping, and carrying one of Sherry’s woven oak baskets clutched to her ample chest. I knew it was Sherry’s design because the braided blue gingham fabric handle was my aunt’s signature touch.

  Trudy spied us and galloped over.

  “Mrs. Cutler, I’m so excited!” she said in that deep, breathy voice. “I wanted to buy a basket at the festival, but that didn’t work out. I had no idea you sold them out of the antiques store!”

  I thought I heard Sherry mutter, “I don’t,” but Trudy gushed on.

  “I hope I can find another one. This one is a gift for my cousin.”

  Sherry gave Trudy a kind smile. “You’re welcome to come to the house to look at what I have left.”

  “As long as you come alone,” I added.

  Trudy flushed as her gaze darted between us. “That’s very gracious considering, well, just everything. I will come alone, and I am sorry about Jill. I hope your little tree will live.”

  “If it doesn’t, I can get another one. It’s not your fault.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Trudy said. “I’d better get back to the inn and hide my basket. Y’all have a good day now.”

  We watched Trudy’s awkward-puppy walk as she crossed catty-corner across the courthouse grounds and on to the inn.

  “She has to hide my basket?” Sherry asked. “From Ms. Elsman?”

  “I would. The woman stomped on your hemp basket. No telling what she’d do to that one.”

  “Poor Trudy.”

  “Not so poor if she has an admirer. Isn’t that Bryan Hardy on the courthouse steps? He’s been staring at her since she crossed the street.”

  “The young lady is rather well-endowed.”

  “I can’t tell if his expression means he’s admiring or astonished.”

  Sherry gave me a playful slap on the arm. “Likely both. Come on.”

  A bell rang as we entered the antiques shop where a motherly-type brunette in an apple-print apron stood behind yet another old-fashioned counter. I grinned to myself, wondering if every shop in town had these counters. This one looked like pine instead of oak, which made sense considering yellow pines grew everywhere around here.

  “Hello, Sherry Mae,” the woman said, hustling to meet us. “I guess you got our notice.”

  “I did, Vonnie.” Sherry indicated my presence. “Vonnie Vance, this is my niece, Nixy.”

  “You’re Sue Anne’s daughter, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I had to smile. Tracing family connections was a way of life in the South.

  “Welcome to Lilyvale, honey,” she said as she walked to a grouping of retro furniture near the counter and cash register.

  We followed and sat on a curved love seat upholstered in an orange fuzzy fabric while Vonnie settled in a turquoise plastic chair. The wood floors had taken a beating over the years but looked original. The beams accenting the ceiling appeared to be original, too, although the ceiling itself and the walls needed fresh paint. I imagined the space as a general store with shelves upon shelves of dry goods, tools, bags of flour and sugar, an old-fashioned pickle barrel near the door, and penny candy jars on the glass-front counter.

  “It’s a lovely place, isn’t it, Nixy?”

  “I love it,” I returned with a smile, though the sheer volume of furnishings and knickknacks began to make me feel hemmed in. The art gallery was more about negative space. Here it was about cram-filled space.

  Vonnie leaned in. “Sherry Mae, I know we didn’t give you quite enough notice according to our contract, but with Mary’s husband being deployed again, the sooner we move closer to her, the better. Between the four-year-old and the twins, she’s having a heck of a time.”

  Vonnie sounded as tired as her daughter must be, but I was tuned in more to the mention of a contract. Did Sherry own the property?

  Sherry waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. I’m just sorry Lilyvale is losing you and S.T.”

  “Thank you. We’re sorry to leave such a nice place.”

  “What about all your stock?” Sherry asked. “Will you be opening a store in Texas?”

  Vonnie’s hair brushed her collar as she shook her head. “No, no. S.T.— that’s my husband, Nixy—is in the workroom n
ow making going-out-of-business signs. I’m contacting designers and dealers we know, so that will help. If anything’s left”—she shrugged—“it’s yours.”

  “Fred would be in hog heaven,” Sherry said with a smile. “How soon will you be leaving? I’d like to take you both to dinner before you go.”

  “You are so kind.” Vonnie patted Sherry’s hand. “We plan to be out by June first, but anytime you want to show the building, we’ll accommodate you. I keep the living quarters tidy, and I can spruce up a bit more if I have a heads-up. Or will you list with an agent?”

  Bingo! Sherry did own the building. That would be another source of income for her. I glanced around the huge space packed with true antiques and collectibles, and with plain old stuff. The place surely generated income if it was easy to lease and the rent fee wasn’t eaten up in taxes.

  “I’ve shown it myself in the past,” Sherry was saying, “but I may list it with Angela.”

  “She’d be a good choice,” Vonnie agreed just as the bell at the door announced a customer.

  Vonnie called out a greeting, then grasped Sherry’s hand. “Thank you again, Sherry, for everything. I promise we’ll get together before I leave.”

  She rose to take care of her customer, and Sherry asked if I’d like to look around. I declined. This stop had given me the perfect opening to ask Sherry about her finances.

  “I don’t mean to pry, Aunt Sherry,” I began, my voice low as we stepped onto the sidewalk, “but did I understand right? You own this building? The same one that used to be Stanton’s General Store?”

  “Yes, and a couple of properties off the square. I charge a modest rent to keep the buildings occupied.”

  “So you have some alternate sources of income?”

  “Have you been worried about my finances, child?”

  “I did wonder how much you and your housemates might need to live together to conserve funds. I mean as opposed to wanting to share the house for the company.”

  “Well, I won’t speak of anyone else’s business, but we do just fine. All of us,” she stressed, and then linked arms with me. “As for my affairs, Granddaddy didn’t sell off all the land he owned, and Daddy bought more. Most of that is forest land. I’ll show you on our tour.”

  I remembered the many trucks I saw on the drive to Lilyvale that were hauling long logs. “This forest land. Do you harvest the trees?”

  Her lips quirked. “I don’t, but the logging company does. They rotate cutting among eight properties, but they don’t clear-cut. I insisted on an ecological approach.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Naturally, Daddy left the properties to both Sue Anne and me. Your mama asked me to buy her out when your daddy was so sick, so we arranged a payment plan.”

  My dad had died of colon cancer the summer I graduated from high school, and I realized with a deep pang that that’s where the money had come from to treat Dad and pay for my college education. I worked during college, too, but I suddenly felt humbled and sad that my mother had given up her inheritance to fund my studies.

  Sherry patted my arm. “It’s what Sue Anne wanted, child, and anyway it will all be yours someday.”

  I smiled through misty eyes. “Not for a very long time, I hope. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  And I didn’t. Like a punch in the gut, it hit me that the aunt I’d liked but didn’t really know had become very important in these last few days.

  We strolled on, arms companionably linked, passing a dry cleaner that advertised laundry service and a tailor. Then came Nifty Nails, Helen’s Hair Salon, and a beauty supply store, which Sherry said were all owned by two sisters. Men’s Unlimited occupied the corner space by the other end of the main drag, and it looked to carry every kind of men’s and boys’ clothes from suits to overalls. I wondered if Fred bought his overalls there. We window-shopped at the furniture store and another women’s clothing store, nearly coming full circle on the square.

  By now, cars packed almost every diagonal and parallel parking space. The sidewalks weren’t crowded by Houston standards, but we passed shoppers hurrying in and out of stores and citizens heading to and from the courthouse and county annex building.

  “Small as Hendrix County is,” Sherry said as she pointed to the building, “there isn’t nearly enough room in the courthouse for all the offices. The city offices are in the building behind this one, on the other side of the alley. Did you want to stop somewhere, or are you ready to do our driving tour?”

  “Let’s roll.”

  • • •

  I DIDN’T NEED A GREAT SENSE OF DIRECTION IN Lilyvale because the layout was simple. Especially compared to Houston. I had a mental map going as Sherry directed me past the small but modern-looking hospital, the small county library in a cute 1940s building, and the school complex where the elementary, junior high, and high school buildings shared the same sprawling campus.

  As a dozen more landmarks flew by, I absorbed the spring smells, the intense greens of the grass and trees, the vivid colors in the gardens and in the roadside wildflowers. Sherry pointed out her yellow pine forest lands—not all of them connected to each other—and we passed several industrial buildings set back off the road closer to town. One firm manufactured lamp shades, Sherry told me. Another made bar soap for boutique hotels. We also passed what Sherry said were branch offices and special labs of a timber and chemical company.

  “Did Dab work for that firm?”

  “Yes, but not at this location. Take the next turn and we’ll have lunch. It’s a hole-in-the-wall, but it’s the best barbeque this side of Magnolia.”

  I wasn’t all that hungry until the aroma wafted through the open windows. Then my stomach growled so loudly that Sherry laughed.

  We toured awhile longer after lunch, but Sherry began messing with her bangs again.

  “Do you need a haircut, Aunt Sherry?” She blinked at me as if I’d spoken Greek. “I noticed you fuss with your bangs on and off. If they’ve gotten too long, we can stop at your salon.”

  I thought her gaze looked suddenly guarded, but then she smiled. “I’ll make an appointment for next week. I’d rather go home and get back to the family relics. We never did find that paperwork to apply for historical designation.”

  That certainty that something was off about Sherry surged again, but really, what could I do?

  Go along with the program, I decided. And I did.

  At least I now knew that Sherry had an income stream. Several of them. Huge relief there. And since Sherry said the rest of the Six did “just fine,” I had to accept that. Really, their finances weren’t my business. I mentally checked that inquiry off my list.

  Two concerns down, one to go—get Hellspawn off Sherry’s back.

  Back home and fortified with tall glasses of sweet tea, Sherry and I began digging through the history-packed trunks again shortly before Eleanor came home. She informed Sherry she’d made copies of the agenda for Tuesday’s meeting and that she was going to work on an improved still design for Dab in her room. Minutes later, a horn tooted. The mailman, Sherry said. I offered to run out to the box, but she wanted to check on her crepe myrtle.

  When she came back to the parlor, though, she held a clear plastic box of chocolates.

  “Someone mailed you candy?”

  Sherry grinned. “No, this was on the porch swing. We always get one or two boxes after the festival, but we still don’t know who sends them.”

  “There’s a Be Sweet sticker on the box. Why not just ask at the store?”

  “Pooh, that’s no fun. This way I feel like we have secret admirers. Want one? I believe these are nougats and caramels and creams.”

  She held the container of six yummy-looking milk and dark chocolates, but my waistband felt tight enough. “Thanks, but I’ve eaten too much during this visit.”

  “In tha
t case I’ll eat mine and Fred’s. He doesn’t care for chocolate.”

  She popped a piece of candy, wiped her fingers, and reached for the folder labeled FAMILY TREE. With the barrette out of her hair, her bangs hanging over one eye, she picked up the magnifying glass and we began cross-checking birth and death dates.

  Nearly half an hour later, we’d finished the dates check when Fred, Aster, Maise, and Dab come in the back door.

  “We’re in here,” Sherry called out.

  Aster strolled in, smiling. “Did you two have a good day?”

  “Aunt Sherry gave me the grand tour,” I answered. “How was yours?”

  “Excellent.” Her gaze landed on the candy box. “Oooh, is that chocolate from Mr. or Ms. Anonymous?”

  “You know it,” Sherry said, and lifted the box. “Want your piece now?”

  “I’ll save mine for dessert. I’m going to garden awhile, and Maise’s gone up to finish her book before we start dinner.”

  “We’ll be ready to help.” Sherry eyed the candy, shrugged, and selected another piece. “What are Fred and Dab up to?”

  Aster waved a hand toward the back. “Fred’s going to help Dab set up the one still in the barn. Or, I should say Dab is letting Fred do it because Fred is driving him nuts.”

  “Eleanor’s been upstairs working on a redesign.”

  Aster chuckled. “I’ll let her know what the guys are up to. She’ll need to run interference on the project. See you later.”

  Sherry chewed her candy, then chugged some tea. “What’s next, Nixy? Find the historic designation paperwork?”

  “Actually, there are probably new forms online by now.” I nodded toward the desktop computer sitting on the library desk near the front windows. “Can you run a search for the procedure and forms while I put some of these papers in order?”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  Sherry drained her tea glass, fired up the computer, and was soon clacking away on the keyboard. The magnifying glass helped me examine documents, but I still had to squint at faded ink on birth certificates, letters, and bills of sale.

  We worked in silence until the chair Sherry sat in squeaked, and I realized she wasn’t typing. “Did you find the information, Aunt Sherry?”