Chapter 31
Eric smiled at me sweetly. “I think that’s a very long shot. Besides, why would anyone want to harm Edgar?”
“For something he has. Didn’t he say the person who choked him was asking ‘Where is it?’”
Eric shook his head. “Your theory doesn’t hang together. If Edgar had consumed the antifreeze and died, then he could never tell anyone where ‘it’ is.”
He had a good point. The timer went off on the oven. I hopped up and headed for the kitchen, disappointed that we weren’t making any progress. I pulled the mini-cheesecakes from the oven and set them on a baking rack to cool.
I glanced over at Zsazsa and thought about Mike and his anger toward the person who let him take the rap for a crime. I hoped Zsazsa wouldn’t end up being convicted for something she didn’t do. I didn’t think there was sufficient evidence to build a case against her. But maybe the police had information I didn’t know about.
* * *
The next morning, Mr. DuBois woke Eric and Edgar. I was up and dressed, ready for work, and tiptoeing around.
The first words out of Mr. DuBois’s mouth were, “There was another garage break-in last night. Only one block away.”
Eric reached for his phone and made a call. He probably hated being out of the loop.
“What did they steal?” asked Edgar.
“They don’t know. That’s the trouble with garages. They are packed with items one wouldn’t miss until they were needed. Young Edgar, may I impose on you to help me bring breakfast from the mansion?”
“Of course. This beats cereal with cold milk any day!”
I watched Peaches while Edgar rolled in a cart loaded with food. The smell was divine.
Mr. DuBois uncovered various platters to prepare a plate for Eric. I dared to steal a slice of bacon.
“Miss Florrie! Sit down at the table properly, and I shall bring you a plate of waffles with fresh blackberries.”
I checked the time. “I have a few things to take care of on my way to the bookstore. You fellows enjoy yourselves.”
The morning air reminded me of the day Dolly died. I walked over to Dolly’s house, thinking that the crisp morning was a hint that fall would be coming soon. Only on this day, it was the contents of Dolly’s house that were spread out on her small lawn and the sidewalk in front of the house. I stood on the other side of the street watching as strangers helped themselves to the possessions that she had held so dear. Now that Percy was involved with Maisie, I assumed he was handling the sale. That meant there would be untold bargains. Some people would probably be like me and unknowingly buy something for two dollars that was worth much more.
Lucianne Dumont watched Percy with an eagle eye and spoke to the air again. Poor Angie on the other end of the phone. Did she have to listen to Lucianne all day?
I wondered why Lucianne would be there. Surely she wasn’t interested in any of Dolly’s things. She hadn’t even wanted the possessions of her own grandfather.
Not too far away, I spied Frederic van den Teuvel watching the goings on at Dolly’s house. All of the hawks had come to feast. But I didn’t think they would find what they wanted.
The Florist had made a brief appearance, and I for one was thrilled that I had been able to see it and hold it in my hands. Now it would probably be lost forever, or at least until the person who possessed it died. With any luck, it might turn up again sometime.
With a heavy heart, I walked through Dolly’s gate, probably for the last time ever.
I walked over to Percy. “Are you selling Dolly’s copy of Winnie-the-Pooh?”
“Yeah. I think that box is still inside. I’ll get it for you.”
“Thank you, Percy.”
I doubted that he had even looked at the books because they appeared to be in the same boxes I had placed them in days ago. The only difference was that Percy had added a sign that read
Books
50 cents a piece
or
10 for $5. 00
The guy was a genius. I couldn’t tell Veronica about him, of course. She would have to see what he was like on her own. Maybe I could talk her into coming over to the sale so she would find out for herself. I didn’t see Maisie around, but I suspected she must be nearby.
I pawed through the books in the box until I found Winnie-the-Pooh. When I lifted it, I noticed a plastic grocery bag on the bottom of the box. I didn’t recall lining a box or putting anything into a grocery bag. Feigning great interest in more of the books, I removed just enough of them to pull out the grocery bag. It was heavier than I had expected.
My breath came fast and I could feel my blood pumping. Surely not. It couldn’t be. I peeked inside the bag. The Florist had somehow made its way into another estate sale.
Painfully conscious of the presence of Lucianne Dumont and Frederic van den Teuvel, I decided not to remove The Florist for the inspection I was itching to do.
I slid Winnie-the-Pooh into the bag on one side of The Florist and a copy of Cocky the Lazy Rooster on the other side.
What had Professor Maxwell said? They used couriers who didn’t draw attention to themselves and looked like they were simply going about their day. Trying my best to look casual, I rose to my feet and gazed around as if I were still shopping. The lantern that had been on the table in Dolly’s garden was only two dollars. I didn’t need it, but it would look lovely in my garden and I would always think of her when I lit the candle inside. It seemed fitting. With my booty in hand, I wandered through the tables to Percy.
“Three books and the lantern.”
“Three dollars and fifty cents.”
I was thrilled that I had correct change. All I wanted was to get out of there before a war started over the contents of the grocery bag.
I avoided looking at Lucianne or van den Teuvel and walked away at a leisurely pace.
I didn’t relax until I was safely inside Color Me Read. I locked the door behind me, set the alarm so I would hear if anyone tried to break in, and ran up two flights of stairs to Professor Maxwell’s office.
I was winded on my arrival.
The professor was seated at his desk. “Florrie! Are you all right? Your face is flushed.”
Taking a deep breath, I very carefully pulled out the contents of the grocery bag, handling them like delicate eggs.
“Children’s books?”
“I have to check the dates. I’m not sure they’re worth anything. But look at this.” I placed the leather cover on the desk in front of him and opened it.
“The Florist? Where did you find it?”
I told him what I had done.
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s not like you at all.”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to hand it over to the rightful owner, Dolly’s daughter, Maisie Cavanaugh. She can sell it to whomever she wants.” I kneeled on the floor and eyed it.
“What are you doing?”
“Aha! Right there. It’s the last page.” I gently lifted it and turned it over. The bottom outside edge of the book had been torn off. “I’ll bet anything that missing piece is what Dolly had in her hand when she died.”
I set it down on his desk again and slumped into a chair. “In all honesty, I never thought I would see this book again.”
“How do you suppose it landed in the box?”
“All I can imagine is that Dolly placed it in this grocery bag and Percy didn’t realize what it was for the second time. If he had bothered to look into the bag he might have recognized some of the pages he printed out and made the connection. Do you mind if we keep it in the locked drawer in your desk until I can turn it over to Maisie?”
“You do realize that technically it belongs to you now? Even if you didn’t do the right thing and tell Percy what it was. He sold it to you fair and square.”
I shook my head. “It belongs to Maisie.”
With The Florist safely stashed away, I returned to the first floor, turned on the music, made a pot of coffee, and looked up the phone number for a reputable auction house we had used before. They agreed to send someone over at noon.
I called Maisie and arranged for her to come to the store as well.
It took every fiber of my being not the spill the news to Bob. But when I had calmed down, I realized that my theory about Dolly having placed it in the bag was completely wrong. If she had done that, she wouldn’t have had the corner of a page in her hand when she died. Whoever stole the book and murdered Dolly had slid it into the bag. But why? Why leave it in Dolly’s house? Remorse? Guilt?
That question plagued me all morning. At noon, I introduced Maisie to Mr. Arthur Fenton and took them upstairs to the professor’s office.
When they were seated, I unlocked the drawer, lifted out the bag, and gingerly removed The Florist.
Arthur blinked rapidly as he examined it. “This is in very high demand. Everyone in town is talking about it.”
“It belonged to Maisie’s mother, Dolly Cavanaugh. Unfortunately, Dolly has died, so it now belongs to Maisie.”
“Well, you have quite the find here. Are you interested in selling it?”
Maisie looked at me. “Where did you find it?”
“In your mom’s estate sale.”
“Does Percy know about this?”
I shook my head from side to side.
Maisie paused for a split second, then said, “My mother would want me to sell it.”
She looked straight at me as though she needed confirmation. “I think Dolly would want that, too.”
Maisie began to cry. “I’m only sorry she’s not here to see this happen. She would be so thrilled.”