Finders Keepers (2 page)

“You know, if Grace were alive,” Elizabeth mused, “that vase in her foyer would be filled with lilacs and forsythia branches.”

“The blue Chinese vase? Yes, I see it so many times when I go to deliver her groceries.” Boompah nodded. “In the summer she puts in lavender and purple coneflowers. In the autumn, it is maple and pyracantha branches. In winter, cedar and …” He paused and peered at the house. “Who is inside there, Elizabeth?”

“In the mansion? Nobody. It’s been empty for a month.”

“Ja, but somebody is walking up the stairs. I see it just now, one minute ago.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Boompah, the place is locked up tight. Maybe you saw a shadow from the maple tree.”

“Mom, Mom!” Nick ran up and grabbed her hand. “Can Magunnery come to our house to play after lunch? Please, Mom? It’s OK with her parents if it’s OK with you. We want to swing.”

“That’s fine, Nick, but …”

“Yesss!” He pumped a fist in the air and raced away. “You can come, Magunnery!”

Montgomery, her bright red hair caught up in a pink bow, jumped up and down with joy. Normally clad in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and some well-worn sneakers, on this day the little girl was a pink confection of lacy petticoats and organdy skirts. Elizabeth waved at Montgomery’s parents, confirming the coming visit. It was hardly news. Their child practically lived at the little apartment behind Finders Keepers.

“Look, I see it again,” Boompah said, squeezing Elizabeth’s hand. “There on the second floor. It is a person, maybe two.”

Elizabeth let out a breath. “I hope it’s not the kids.”

The Ambleside High School students known as “the kids” had lately taken to piercing their ears, noses, and eyebrows, sporting fake tattoos, and looking for hideaways where they could smoke cigarettes and drink beer. Mick and Ben, Ambleside’s dauntless police force, had been compelled to clear out Chalmers Park more than once. Twice they had locked the gates at 8 P.M. just to keep the kids dispersed.

“I try to hire them to work at the market,” Boompah said, “but they steal the beef jerky and empty all pennies from the gumball machine. If those kids get into Grace’s house, they will break something, of that I am sure. We better take a look right now.”

He started across the street, giving Elizabeth barely enough time to grab Nick’s hand. “Boompah, why don’t you stay outside with Nick? I’ll go check the mansion.”

“You?” His sparse white eyebrows lifted. “Look at you, Elizabeth, very skinny and wearing those high-heel shoes.”

“And you’re down in the back. Besides, we don’t know who—”

“Ach, who is nothing to me,” he scoffed. “Did I not escape from Adolph Hitler himself? He tries to kill my family because we are of the Roma—the Gypsies. He tries to capture us and put us into his camps. But I escape!”

“Who’s trying to kill you, Boompah?” Nick demanded, his green eyes flashing. “Where is he?”

“Adolph Hitler!” Boompah spat. “He is putting everybody into cars on the railroad. Like we are cattle.”

Elizabeth left the old man wandering down the paths of memory, a curious little boy tagging along. Germany was a bit like Romania, she would tell her son later. Two evil rulers who cared nothing for tradition, faith, or humanity had tried to tear down the old and build new worlds of their own imaginings, destroying millions of lives in the process.

Elizabeth unlatched the iron gate and followed the brick path to the porch of Chalmers House. She knew her son could not fully comprehend the situation that had led him into an orphanage. But she would assure Nick, as she had so many times before, that God had a wonderful plan for his life. Hadn’t Jesus brought them together—a lonely woman and an abandoned child? And wouldn’t he continue the joy in their lives?

She slid a loose brick from the wall and drew out the key Grace had always kept hidden there. Doors were rarely locked in Ambleside, “but you never know,” Grace had said.

No, you couldn’t always know, Elizabeth thought as she turned the key in the door. It didn’t pay to be careless.

“Hey, up there!” she called at the foot of the dusty staircase. “This house belongs to the Chalmers family. It’s not open to the public.”

She heard footsteps creak across the oak floorboards. “I mean it,” she said, stepping onto the first stair. “You don’t have permission to be up there. Now, get your backside out of here this minute, or I’ll call Mick and Ben.”

“Mick and Ben?” A pair of well-shined cordovan loafers began to descend; next came crisply pressed khaki slacks, a brown leather belt, a starched white oxford shirt, and a striped silk tie. “Are they in charge of backside removal?”

Elizabeth reached for the banister as a pair of deep-set gray-green eyes focused on her. “Uh … I thought … I thought you were one of the kids.”

The corner of the man’s mouth turned up. “No,” he said. The hazel eyes surveyed her up and down for a moment. “And neither are you.”

Elizabeth could feel herself flushing as he advanced. The man was good looking with his dark hair and deeply tanned skin, and she breathed a prayer of thanks that she wasn’t wearing her usual Sunday-afternoon shorts and T-shirt. A quick inventory of her appearance assured her that she wore an ivory sheath that was the essence of elegance, a pair of matching heels, and her grandmother’s pearls. And she’d painted her nails.

She touched the pearls at her neck with one hand as she extended the other. “I’m Elizabeth Hayes. I own the shop next door.”

“Aha,” he said, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Zachary Chalmers. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, you’re the nephew.” Elizabeth let out a breath. “I should have guessed. You’re here to look over Grace’s things before the auction tomorrow.”

“Does everyone in Ambleside know the details of my personal business, Miss Hayes?”

“Grace and I were close friends. And, yes, everyone knows everyone’s business in Ambleside.” She stepped back onto the marble floor. Now that she knew who she was dealing with, she could tackle her concerns head-on. “Listen, Mr. Chalmers, I realize you had little or no contact with your aunt during her lifetime. But I think you should be aware that the furnishings in this house were precious to Grace. Many of them are quite valuable. I hope you don’t intend to just get rid of all these items without finding out exactly what your aunt had here. That vase, for example, is museum quality. You ought to ascertain its worth so it isn’t just sold off like some knickknack from a curio store.”

Without waiting for his response, she walked across the hall and lifted the vase in which Grace had always kept the season’s bounty. “These things not only have monetary value,” she said, “but they have great sentimental value. Grace was a wonderful woman. She was gentle and kind, and the furnishings in her home reflect that. This is her legacy.”

Zachary Chalmers had remained at the foot of the staircase, but his eyes were locked on her. “As you mentioned, I wasn’t close to my aunt. I appreciate that you were her friend, but her legacy has no sentimental value to me.”

“It’s more than just my feelings, Mr. Chalmers. Grace’s legacy means a lot to this whole town. Everyone in Ambleside loved her. Her house was in the Chalmers family for generations—”

“Not
my
side of the Chalmers family, ma’am.” He hooked his hands in his pockets and took a step toward her. “I grew up in a trailer park at the edge of Jefferson City, and my folks never even told me I had an Aunt Grace. She never invited us here for a visit. Her name was never mentioned. So, while I appreciate your fondness for the woman, I can tell you that I have no intention—”

“Boompah nearly got killed by the nachos!” Nick burst into the house and ran to his mother. “They tried to catch him and put him into a train. They were bad, evil nachos!”

“Nazis,” Elizabeth clarified. She knelt on one knee and took her son’s shoulders. Clearly Boompah’s story had upset the child, and she knew it would be hours before she could help Nick sort through the confusing information. “Sweetheart, the trouble between Boompah and the Nazis happened a long time ago. Boompah is fine.”

“Yes, I am fine now,” the old man announced as he entered the room, “but where are the kids who have come to steal from Chalmers House? I will speak to them. I am not afraid!”

Elizabeth held out her hand to calm the old man. “Boompah, there were no kids. You saw Grace’s nephew through the window. Mr. Chalmers is here to look things over before the auction.”

Like a trio of territorial cardinals, the three males inside the mansion assessed one another. Clearly, each felt that he was being intruded upon. Boompah sniffed as he observed Zachary Chalmers’s tailored appearance. Chalmers lifted one brow at the sight of Boompah’s rumpled brown cardigan and sweat-stained hat. Nick frowned up at the newcomer, his own tie spotted with water from the drinking fountain at church.

“Are you a nacho?” he asked Zachary Chalmers, his green eyes wary.

“No, but I was a Tootsie Roll one Halloween.” The man smiled. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Nikolai Hayes. I was born in Romania, but my mommy came and adopted me three years ago. I’m eight years old. It’s Easter today because Jesus died and came to life again. Did you know that?”

“I did.”

“I have a swing in my backyard that Magunnery plays on with me. Do you want to see it? You could come to our house for lunch. We have extra, because Mommy invited Boompah, but he can’t come.”

“Nick!” Elizabeth grabbed her son’s hand.

“We’re having ham,” Nick added. “And fresh rolls.”

“Ham, huh?” Zachary Chalmers pondered a moment. “Well, I guess I could make room in my schedule—”

“Just a minute now,” Elizabeth cut in. “Nick, please take Boompah outside and make sure he gets down the stairs all right. His back is sore.”

“Boompah’s going to Al Huff’s house for lunch,” Nick informed Zachary Chalmers. “Al owns the gas station, and he sells barbecue ribs and beans and cold slaw, too. He has a sign that says Eat, Get Gas and everybody laughs, but Al won’t change it. Al and Thelma always have Boompah over for Sunday lunch. That’s how they do it. It’s called a tradition.”

“Aha.” Chalmers watched the little boy lead the old man out onto the front porch. “Bye, Nick. Bye, Boompah.”

“My mom is the best cooker in the whole world,” Nick called over his shoulder. “You better come try her ham. You’ll like it.”

“My son is … enthusiastic,” Elizabeth explained.

“I liked his comment about the nachos.”

She smiled. “Nick still trips over words sometimes. You have to listen carefully to understand what he’s trying to tell you.”

“I’ll do that.” He took a step toward her. “So, is the lunch invitation good? I haven’t eaten.”

Elizabeth glanced out the door as Nick assisted Boompah down the stairs. “Look, Mr. Chalmers, we’ve just met, and I’m afraid I’m …” She tried to think of a good reason not to let him come. She wasn’t too busy. She had no plans for the afternoon. There was plenty of food. But the man was a total stranger—and not a particularly pleasant one, at that.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable having you in my home.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “I, uh, I hardly know you.”

“Zachary Chalmers. Grew up in Jeff City. Trailer park. Aunt Grace’s nephew. You already know me better than most people do.”

And I don’t like you,
she wanted to add. The man was far too self-assured to be appealing, and his attitude toward Grace was cavalier. Clearly, he intended to sell off every stick of furniture in the mansion without the least compunction. He’d make his money and then drive away, leaving the old house stripped bare.

“Mr. Chalmers,” she said, “I’m not in the habit of inviting men to my house for any reason. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to get that ham out of the oven.”

“I take it you’re not married,” he called as she headed for the door. “Neither am I.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Chalmers.”

“Zachary.”

“Just don’t forget what I told you about Grace’s things,” she said, turning in the open doorway. “You shouldn’t let go of the past. This house is filled with traditions, memories, and heirlooms. Don’t sell off your heritage, Mr. Chalmers.”

“Out with the old, in with the new,” he said. “I’m an architect, Miss Hayes, not a museum curator.”

Elizabeth had to force herself to keep from slamming the door behind her. Of all the gall.
Out with the old, in with the new.
The man was clearly a nacho!

“You’d better not go to that auction this morning, Liz,” Pearlene Fox said as she swept the sidewalk in front of Très Chic, the ladies’ apparel shop she owned. “You know good and well that man is going to sell every last thing right out of there. Phil said he wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Zachary Chalmers tore down the whole mansion.”

Elizabeth paused and leaned on her own broom. “Tore it down?”

“That’s what Phil said. We were eating leftover ham sandwiches last night, you know how you do after a big meal, and I said to him, ‘Do you reckon that nephew of Grace’s is going to strip that mansion bare at the auction tomorrow?’ And Phil said, ‘Strip it bare and tear it down.’ That’s what he said, and you know Phil is always good for the latest news, him being on the city council and all. He said there was likely to be a wrecking ball over there by the middle of the week.”