Chapter Four

I love that color on you. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

Amber smiled weakly at her friend’s comment, ran her hand down the jade-colored shirt, and continued dusting her display of smoked-glass butterflies.

“Thank you. I got this at the consignment store. I didn’t know how much nice stuff they had in there.”

One of Sarah’s brows quirked. “Consignment store? Once I heard you say that you would never buy anything from there in case someone came in to your store and saw you wearing their old clothes.”

Heat flooded Amber’s cheeks. “I might have made too quick a judgment call on that. Tessa told me that she never takes anything into the store that shows any signs of wear. All the clothing people bring in for consignment is required to be nearly perfect, or she says she tells them to take it to Goodwill instead. She says most of the clothes in her store are things people bought either without trying it on at a department store, or got as a gift so they couldn’t take it back, or something they wore once for a special occasion and don’t want to wear it again in the same crowd.”

“That’s nice that you changed your mind, but I sure would like to know why you went into the consignment store in the first place.”

Amber sighed and then turned to her best friend. “I guess by now you heard that we found Gnorman by the fountain. Stan and I did a little detective work that took us to the consignment store. When we arrived, there were only five dolls instead of six. We asked Tessa who bought the sixth doll, and she said the strangest thing. A couple of weeks ago she was straightening her display and noticed one of the dolls was missing. Where the doll should have been, someone had left an envelope with money and a typed note saying they didn’t have time to wait in line, so they left the money and ran out.”

“That really is strange.” Sarah crossed her arms. “There’s never a line at Tessa’s consignment store.”

Not only had there not been a line during the entire time Stan and Amber had lingered in the store, but not a single other person had come in. “I didn’t mean about Tessa’s store not having many people in it at a time. I meant, doesn’t it strike you as strange that the note would have been typed? What did this person do, not want to wait, go all the way home, type a note, and come back? That would have taken ten times the amount of time of just standing in line. If there was a line, which there probably wasn’t.”

Sarah’s mouth formed an O.

“That’s right. Someone had planned to buy the doll before they even got to the store. Tessa says it was the exact change for the right amount, including the sales tax. Someone didn’t want to be seen buying the doll, and now we know why.”

“You have to admit, that’s pretty clever. But at least we know that the person isn’t a thief.”

“Not a thief?” Amber crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course the person is a thief. He or she stole Gnorman and the trophy.”

Sarah waved one finger in the air. “It’s not really stolen. They’re just leading you on a rabbit trail. Maybe this is just a bad practical joke.”

Amber turned and stared blankly out the window so she wouldn’t have to face her friend. “I’m afraid it might be more than that. I think someone has something against me, and they’re trying to get me kicked out of the garden club.”

She heard Sarah’s quick intake of breath. “What are you talking about? Why would anyone do that? I’m sorry to say this, but your garden isn’t exactly competition to anyone else wanting a prize.”

“I didn’t tell anyone, but the day before The Spring Fling party, someone egged the front door of my store and dumped a soft drink all over my car. Those are usually things someone does if they have something against you.”

Sarah’s brows knotted. “Who has something against you? What have you done?”

“That’s the thing. I have no idea. It was annoying to clean up the mess, but taking Gnorman and the trophy is serious. The garden club entrusted me with that trophy and it’s gone missing, with a great public spectacle, while I was responsible for it. If I can’t get it back, they’ll kick me out of the garden club. Even if they don’t kick me out right away, they won’t renew my membership.”

The question was almost written across Sarah’s forehead, but she didn’t say it. Why is being in the garden club so important?

It was a question Amber wouldn’t answer . . . ever. She couldn’t explain her situation and she didn’t want to involve anyone else in the mess she’d been dragged into. Not Sarah, and especially not Stan. She hadn’t told him about what happened because he would try to help her, and even though he helped her with so much, she wouldn’t accept his help on this.

“Let’s just say I must be a member in good standing, so I need to get that trophy back.”

Sarah’s expression told her that she wanted to ask more, but for now she would wait until Amber was ready to talk. That wasn’t going to happen. Amber had dug herself into a hole, and she had to get out of it by herself.

Sarah’s expression softened. “I’m sure you’ll get it back. Word around town is that Stan’s been right there with you following every lead since it disappeared.”

Amber sighed. “You know Stan. He always likes to help.” She didn’t know how he knew, but every time she needed help with something, no matter how minor, he showed up, volunteering to fix whatever was wrong. A few days ago he’d even helped her restring her guitar, making sure he trimmed every end piece that she usually left sticking out. She still couldn’t play the guitar that well, but it sure looked good. “I don’t know why he does all those things. Maybe he doesn’t have enough to do.”

“He certainly does. When’s the last time you tried making an appointment to get your car fixed?” Sarah’s voice lowered to a whisper, even though they were the only people in the store. “He doesn’t do favors for everyone. Just you.” As she finished her sentence, Sarah gave Amber a big, exaggerated wink.

“Stop that. Stan and I are just good friends—like I’m good friends with his mother. Kathy’s been helping me learn how to make my own jam this year.”

“Really? Stan’s favorite jam, or yours?”

“I said stop it. I need your help to figure out what to do next. How can I find out who bought, and I use the word loosely, that doll with the Pilgrim costume? Or better yet, how can I find out who put Gnorman beside the fountain? That’s a pretty public spot.”

Sarah shook her head. “Not really. Most of the people who live at Lake Bliss go to bed early. That’s the thing with retirement communities. They’re past the late-night party stage. It’s an adults-only complex; no one under age fifty-five is allowed to live there. During the daytime there are enough people milling about so that most ignore what everyone else is doing. My guess would be that whoever put him there did it in the middle of the night. Didn’t you say that Naomi phoned you in the morning?”

“I had a feeling it would come down to this. Since the note said we weren’t to touch him for four days, on the third night—that would be Wednesday—I need to do some surveillance and see who takes him away.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sarah grinned from ear to ear. “I think you know what this means.”

Amber squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. I’ll call Stan.”

Stan couldn’t believe it. He was humming. Humming. While planning a picnic lunch. Or rather, a picnic midnight snack.

He changed his tune to “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic.”

He’d asked Amber out for dinner a few times, and every time she’d turned him down. Not maliciously or to reject him. She simply didn’t take him seriously.

This time they would share a more intimate meal than if they went to the Fancy Schmantzy on Main Street.

Thinking of the Fancy Schmantzy, his hands stilled in the middle of his grocery list. He couldn’t remember the real name of the one high-class restaurant in town. Ever since he was a kid, the place had been called the Fancy Schmantzy. A storm had blown a tree into the sign, and since everyone knew the place by its nickname, Fred and Rita, the couple who owned the restaurant, never replaced the original sign. Now, a generation later, no one could even remember what the real name was.

The name didn’t matter—only that it was a classy place to take a date. Not that he’d ever taken Amber there. But one day he would. They would share fresh baked bread before their meal, and afterward they’d order some fancy coffee and dessert, all while sitting at a dimly lit private table, with soft music playing in the background to enhance the mood.

Amber often complained about the ordinary brown color of her hair, but he liked it—not too dark, not too light, with a slight curl. She’d have it clipped up with some kind of barrette with sparkly stones on it, which would set off the sparkle in her jade-green eyes. Although she didn’t know it, Stan considered her very pretty, and when she smiled she had the cutest dimples.

He forced himself back to the project at hand. Tomorrow night they couldn’t light a smoky candle between them because they had to stay hidden, which meant their only source of light would be a small flashlight, with minimal usage. The music, instead of soft classical violins, would be chirping crickets and the splashing of the fountain in the distance, and maybe the croaking of the resident bullfrog. It would be almost like surveillance from NCIS, staking out a crime scene.

Stan stopped writing his grocery list and looked out the window in the direction of the Lake Bliss Retirement Village. It wasn’t really a crime scene because no one had actually gone to the police station to report this to Bubba, maybe because he was at the party and already knew, at least unofficially. If anyone did report the disappearance, he wasn’t sure how it would be classified. A missing gnome was more of a prank than a crime, although technically the gnome had been stolen. Was gnome gnapping a felony or a misdemeanor?

Stan shook his head. This wasn’t Chicago or Los Angeles or Miami or any of the big cities where felony crimes happened. This was Bloomfield, USA, where the city council proudly boasted having a flower of some kind on every corner. That wasn’t really true, but they liked to think so.

He didn’t want his evening with Amber to be laced with foreboding. He wanted to make it calm and relaxing, like a date.

If he were going to take Amber out on a date to the Fancy Schmantzy, he’d wear his best suit, maybe even a tie, and he’d polish his shoes. He didn’t know what she’d wear, but he imagined a nice dress and matching strappy shoes that showed off her cute little toes.

But not tomorrow. Technically it was spring, but it still got cold out at night. Instead of their best clothes, they would be wearing heavy jeans layered with a T-shirt under a sweatshirt, bundled up in padded jackets. Plus he’d pack a quilt in the toolbox in the back of his truck, just in case.

He couldn’t hold back a grin. In a way, he hoped they would get cold, just so he could snuggle with Amber under the blanket.

Stan shook the thoughts from his head and continued with his grocery list. He planned on making nice meaty sandwiches on those fancy rolls she liked, with thick mayo, cheddar cheese—sliced himself, not the processed stuff—and crispy lettuce. Instead of the rich dessert they served at the Fancy Schmantzy, he bought easy-to-eat chocolates, and he knew exactly the kind Amber liked best.

He also planned to bring a big thermos of coffee, only because Naomi had agreed to give them a key to her townhouse in case they had to use the facilities in the middle of the night.

It was going to be perfect. Nothing could go wrong. He had everything planned down to the last detail, including a spare battery for his camera that was currently in the charger.

He’d been planning for two days, and he was going to do everything he could to make the night just right, for however long it took, even if that meant all night.

He actually hoped it would be all night.

Just as he folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket, Stan’s cell phone rang. His heart picked up in speed. It was nearly midnight, much too late for anyone to call unless something was wrong.

His dread changed to amusement when he read the caller ID. It was Amber, probably just making sure he still planned on keeping watch over Gnorman until someone arrived to spirit him away. It would feel good to tell her that he was not only nearly ready, but that he also had a surprise for her.

“Hey,” he drawled as he answered the phone, mentally kicking himself at the sappy tone of his own voice.

“It looks like we won’t have to do the surveillance tomorrow night. Naomi just called. She looked out the window on her way to bed, and Gnorman is gone. The note said four days, but I’m thinking whoever did this took him away early, probably guessing what we had planned. So it looks like we’re back to square one.”

Stan pressed his hand over the list in his pocket. He still felt like asking if she wanted to have a midnight picnic anyway, but he couldn’t think of a reason to justify it except that he was an idiot. “Now what?”

She sighed, such a sad and lonely sound, and it made him want to run over to her house and make it better. “Now we wait. Again. The first note said we’d get another one, so there’s nothing else we can do.”

“There has to be something. How about if I come by your store tomorrow for lunch, and we can talk about it.”

“I guess. Sure.” She sighed again and went silent.

Not the most enthusiastic response, but she hadn’t turned him down. So it wasn’t a total loss. He even felt himself smiling. “I’ll be there, and I’ll bring lunch. See you tomorrow.”