Jacob's Coins: A Cozy Ghost Mystery (Storage Ghost Mysteries Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter 4

A
few hours later Frankie looked at his watch and said, “We might as well call it
a day. I doubt we’re going to get a mad rush now. How much have we made today?”

Grace
smiled sadly and said, “Nothing. That lady who looked at the floral vase said
it was too much and she could get it cheaper down the market.”

Frankie
shook his head. “I don’t think some people understand the concept of antiques,
she won’t get one of them down the market.”

Grace
looked round the shop. “We need to sell other things, stuff that people want,
but what? And where can we get it from at a cheap price?”

Frankie
held his hands up. “We’re not going to discuss this any further today. Do you
want a lift home?”

“If
it’s no trouble, thanks. Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“At
Ian’s. He says he doesn’t mind if I stay another week.”

Grace
nodded and then leant forward to switch off the cash register. She suddenly
froze. “Hang on, didn’t you say that Ian is going on a stag do this weekend? I
can’t imagine he’d let you stay in his house on your own.”

Frankie
picked a bit of fluff off his jumper. He muttered, “Yeah, he is going away but
he’s fine about me staying there.”

Grace
folded her arms and glared at her brother. “You’re lying, I can tell. What’s
going on?”

Frankie’s
eyes quickly flicked towards the ceiling and then back to his jumper.
“Nothing.”

Grace
had caught his look. She unfolded her arms and placed them on her hips. “Don’t
tell me you’re sleeping in the stockroom?”

“Course
not. Do you want a lift or not?” Frankie said. He moved towards the front door.

Grace
spun on her heels and headed towards the back of the shop. As she sped upstairs
she heard Frankie shout, “Don’t go up there! Please!”

Grace
flung open the door to the stockroom. She stopped in her tracks. Frankie bumped
into her as he caught up.

Grace
raised a quivering arm and waved it around the room. “Frankie! Please tell me
you haven’t been living here! No, don’t bother to lie, I can see that you have.
How long have you been sleeping on the floor? And why?”

Frankie
stepped into the room. He knelt down and straightened up his sleeping bag. He
didn’t look up at Grace as he spoke. “It’s not so bad, it’s quite cosy. I’ve
got a microwave and my computer. There’s washing facilities across the hall.
And it’s a really short commute to work. And, let’s face it, there isn’t any
stock in here.”

“How
long?” Grace repeated.

Frankie
straightened up. “A few months. I wore out my welcome with my friends ages ago.
And I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry. You don’t need any more
worry, not after what happened ...”

Grace
sighed. “Oh, Frankie, I wish you’d told me. You’re not staying here any more,
you’re coming back to my place. My sofa’s comfier than that floor. No
arguments.”

“I
can look after myself, I’m used to it. Anyway, I’m the big brother, I’m the one
who should be taking care of you.”

Grace
studied him, she was familiar with the determined look he was now giving her.
She said, “Stay at least one night. It’ll give us chance to talk about the
shop. I’ll get us a pizza on the way home, what do you say?”

Frankie
thought for a moment, then he relented. “Okay, just one night. And I want a
proper pizza with lots of meat on, not that stupid low fat tasteless thing you
usually have.”

Grace
smiled. “Okay.”

Frankie
leant down and rolled up his sleeping bag.

“You
don’t need that, I’ve got some spare covers,” Grace said.

Frankie
tucked it under his arm and said, “I’ve got used to it, it’s comforting.”

Grace
suddenly thought of the blanket that he used to have when he was little. Mum
had to constantly patch it up because he’d cuddled it too much.

Grace’s
eyes prickled. She quickly blinked and pasted a bright smile on her face. “What
do you stay to a couple of cans of lager?”

Frankie
grinned. “I’d ask them to bring a couple of friends with them. Hurry up, Grace,
I’m starving.”

Chapter 5

Frankie
soon made himself at home.

“Feet
off the table,” Grace said. She placed the pizza and lager in front of him.

Frankie
swung his feet off the table and reached for a slice of pizza. “Mind if we
watch telly? There’s a great programme on, one of my favourites. You’ve got to
see it. Is that my lager? Are you having some?”

“Not
yet,” Grace replied. She picked a smaller slice of pizza up and put it on her
plate. She studied it, she wasn’t exactly sure what kind of meat was on it,
there was certainly a lot of it.

Frankie
pointed the remote at the television, it came to life. He quickly zapped
through the channels until he found what he was looking for.

“This
is it! Look, Grace, it’s all about storage lockers.”

Grace
chewed, she still wasn’t sure what kind of meat it was, there didn’t seem to be
a distinctive taste. She swallowed with difficulty, Frankie could eat the rest
of this. “Storage lockers? Who makes a programme about storage lockers?”

Frankie
nodded towards the television. “It’s really interesting. It’s set in America,
in different states. These lockers are full of all sorts, sometimes rubbish but
sometimes they have stuff that’s worth thousands of dollars.”

Grace
frowned. “I don’t get it, who do the lockers belong to?”

Frankie
explained, “People rent them and store their belongings in them. But then they
might forget about them, if they move town or something, or they might not be
able to afford the storage rent anymore and they stop paying. Or they might
die.”

Grace’s
nose wrinkled. “Other people’s belongings, is that what you mean? Could be
anything in them. Why are those people shouting?”

“Those
are the bidders. Whoever gets the highest bid wins the locker. See that old
woman with the purple hair? She has the worst luck ever! She’s found false
teeth, a wooden leg, even half a dead body once. They had to get the police out
for that one.”

Grace
pushed her plate away. “It sounds awful. Those lockers could be full of
anything, even stolen goods.”

Frankie
wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Stolen stuff that could be worth thousands. I’d love
to have a go. I bet I’d be really good. I know a bit about antiques, I bet I
could spot a valuable item. And I’ve got a great poker-face, no one would know
that I’d spotted something.”

Grace
tutted. “As if! I can always tell when you’re lying. Can we switch it over?”

“Not
yet, and to be fair, you don’t always know when I’m lying. You didn’t know I
was sleeping in the stockroom,” Frankie said. He reached for his second slice
of pizza. “I wanted you to watch this.”

“Why?”
A funny feeling was settling in Grace’s stomach, it wasn’t a nice feeling.

“I’ve
been looking on the Internet, there are some storage auctions near us. I
thought we could go along and see what sort of stuff people buy. You never
know, we might find something awesome. We might find something so valuable that
we could pay off all our debts! Imagine that.”

Frankie
looked off into the distance as he chewed his food.

Grace
had seen his dreamer’s face many times. How could she say no to him after all
he’d been through recently?

Frankie
turned to look at her. “What do you say? We could go and have a look, just to
look, not to buy.”

“Just
looking? Not buying?”

Frankie
nodded, his smile growing bigger by the second.

Grace
sighed. “Okay. When are we going?”

Frankie
reached for his third slice of pizza. “Tomorrow. We’ll have to set off early.”
He pointed at the television. “Look what Old Purple Hair has found now!
Somebody’s nail clippings! Ha!”

Grace
pressed her lips together and kept her thoughts to herself. She should have
said no. An uneasy feeling was washing over her, and it had nothing to do with
the unfortunate woman on the television.

It
was something else.

Chapter 6

As
they drove to the storage locker sale the following morning Frankie chattered
non-stop.

“We
might find some guns from the wars. Or some rare first editions from Charles
Dickens. What if we found some Roman coins? There was a man on the news a few
years ago who found coins in a field, he sold them for half a million. Imagine
that, Grace.”

Grace
said, “What are you talking about? We’re not going to find anything. We’re only
looking, remember, not bidding.”

Frankie
shot her a quick grin and then turned back to the road. “I know, but what if we
did? What would you do with the money? Once we paid Eddie off, of course. Would
you give up your job? By the way, when do you have to go back? Are you still on
sick pay?”

Grace
swallowed. It hurt her pride to be receiving sick pay, but she hadn’t been
given a choice. “I’ve got two months left. I’m not looking forward to going
back.”

“I
thought you loved teaching, talking about all that history stuff to kids.”

“I
do. It’s not that. It’s the other staff. I know they’re going to be keeping an
eye on me. Watching out for tell-tale signs. See if I’m going to have another
breakdown.”

Grace
wiped her palms on her jeans. The thought of going back to work terrified her.

Frankie
said, “It wasn’t a breakdown, you know that.”

“That’s
what it was classed as, that’s what’s on my sick note. That’s what everyone
thinks when they look at me. They think I’m not capable.”

Frankie
was silent as he made a right turn. “You were suffering from depression, from
severe grief. You went back to work too soon.”

“You
went through the same thing but you didn’t have a breakdown!” Grace said, her
voice rising.

Frankie
pulled into the car park of the storage unit. He switched the engine off and
looked at her. He said, “I didn’t go through exactly the same thing. You’re not
heading towards another breakdown. It’s not like you’re hearing voices and
seeing spooky things out of the corner of your eye, is it! Come on, I think we
have to sign in or something.”

Frankie
got out of the van. Grace watched him head towards an office building.

She
had been hearing voices. And she had been seeing spooky things, not from the
corners of her eyes, but right in front of her.

She
couldn’t tell Frankie, she couldn’t tell anyone. They would lock her up for
sure.

She
followed Frankie into the office.

She
knew full well that Frankie was going to bid, she always knew when he was lying
- apart from when he’d been sleeping rough in the stockroom. How could she not
have known about that?

But
anyway, she’d play along with his game of not buying, for now.

Chapter 7

Frankie
was standing just inside the entrance to the office. He was staring straight
ahead, his mouth open.

Grace
nudged him. “What’s wrong? What are you staring at? Have we come to the wrong
place?”

Frankie
didn’t blink, he said in a whisper, “It’s him! It’s really him!”

Grace
looked at where Frankie was staring. She saw an older man, probably in his late
fifties, sitting behind a desk.

She
let out a little snort of laughter. “He looks like a silver-haired Elvis
Presley. He’s even got his collar turned up. I didn’t know people still had
hair styles like that. Do you think that’s a real tan? He’s almost orange.”

Frankie
didn’t look away. “It’s him! It’s really him!” he repeated.

Grace
frowned. What had got in to her brother now?

The
man behind the counter looked up and smiled at them. Grace almost fell over
from the glare of his extremely white teeth.

“Hey
there! Good morning to you! Haven’t seen you here before, are you new? Step
closer, I won’t bite!” the man said.

Grace
smiled back at him, it was impossible not to, there was a genuine warmth coming
from him.

She
stepped forward, Frankie didn’t move. Grace shot a glance at him, he was still
standing there like a frozen statue. She grabbed his arm and propelled him
forward.

The
silver-haired man stood up and extended a hand towards them. “Let me introduce
myself. I’m ...”

“Sylvester
Sylver!” Frankie burst out. “I’ve seen you on the telly! You’re an auctioneer!
A real American Auctioneer!”

Sylvester
Sylver chuckled. “That’s right, I am. It’s always great to meet a fan. And you
are?”

Frankie
grabbed hold of Sylvester’s hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically.

Grace
saw the older man wince but he had the manners not to say anything.

“I’m
Frankie, Frankie Abrahams, and I’ve seen you on the telly!” Frankie gushed.

Grace
was beginning to get embarrassed. Honestly! Talk about star-struck. She gently wrestled
Sylvester’s hand away from Frankie and shook it. “We’re new to this business.
We’re only here to watch, not to buy. Do we need to sign in or anything?”

Sylvester
smiled another blinding smile and said, “You certainly do, here are the forms.
Good idea to watch first. Too many people leap into this business without
knowing what they’re doing. They watch a few TV programmes and think they’re
experts.”

Grace
pulled the forms towards her. She looked at Frankie to see if he was paying
attention to what Sylvester was saying. Her brother was still staring at the
Elvis like god in front of him. She sighed and filled out the forms.

“Thanks
so much! Let’s get going, we’ve got ten lockers to auction this morning, all of
them full of treasure! Follow me, kids,” Sylvester said. He stepped out from
behind the counter and strode towards the door.

He
held it open as a soppy-eyed Frankie stepped through. Just as Grace was about
to go through Sylvester placed his hand  lightly on her shoulder. In a low
voice he said, “Don’t let the buyers intimidate you. They’ll smell fresh blood
the second you get out there.”

Grace
gave him a grateful smile. It wasn’t the buyers she was worried about. The
uneasy feeling that had started in her stomach had travelled upwards, a
headache was beginning.

She
knew something was going to happen today, she could feel it. A sudden flicker
of excitement lit up in her tummy. Maybe it would be something good, perhaps
their luck was changing.