Slip and Go Die (A Parson's Cove Mystery) (4 page)

“Well, once in awhile we try to act professional around here. What do you want anyway? I’m busy.”

“Hate to say it, Reg, but I think you’ve already lost your professional touch.”

“All right, Miss Wickles, how can I be of service?”

“That sounds much better.” It sounded better but I had to admit, it sure didn’t sound like the normal Reg Smee. At least, he hadn’t hung up yet. “I understand you’re looking for information about Beulah.”

“I might be. Why?”

“Well, it’s just that I know a little about her, that’s all.”

“How would you know?”

“Because, Reg, don’t you remember that every year she sells things outside my shop? Or, I guess I should say, she used to.”

“Forgot about that. So, you say you and Beulah were real close friends?”

“No, I didn’t say that but she did tell me a little about herself. For instance, I know she has no family.”

“Not even a long lost brother, sister, cousin or something?”

“Nope. She was an only child. Her parents died when she was quite young and she never knew of any other family. I think she said she was in some orphanage or something like that until she was ready to be on her own.”

“Never married?”

“She didn’t mention a husband. I guess she could’ve been a widow. I never thought to ask. You’d think she would have said something though.”

There was silence on the other end.

“You still there, Reg?”

“Yeah. You’re sure about this?”

“I told you everything she told me. Why?”

“Hmmm. Someone else gave me different information, that’s all.”

“What information? Who gave it to you?”

“Well, I think it’s confidential, Mabel. You don’t have to know everything that goes on in Parson’s Cove, you know.”

“Of course, I don’t have to know everything but I’ll tell you one thing, Reg Smee, whoever told you that is wrong. She had no relatives. If some start popping out of the woodwork now, it just means that someone thinks she’s worth lots of money and they want a piece of the pie, that’s all.”

“Boy, you are such a cynic. In the first place, I doubt that Beulah had very much. She lived a simple life. That cabin wasn’t even hers. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t. How would I know that? I told you we weren’t that close.”

“That’s my point. If you didn’t know that, how would you know if she had relatives or not?”

I sighed. Sometimes trying to help the Law could be very trying, especially when a person had to deal with Reg Smee. Knowing if you have relatives and knowing if you have money are entirely two different things.

“Okay, Reg. I only wanted to help. All I know is what Beulah told me.”

“Well, thanks anyway, Mabel. I appreciate the thought. By the way, I hear you have to have a new furnace at the shop.”

This is one of the wonders of Parson’s Cove: Everyone knows everything about everybody–sometimes before the person in question even knows.

“I need a new furnace? Can’t Bob fix my old one?”

“Apparently, not. Furnaces don’t last forever. Yours is so out of date that Bob can’t even get parts for it.”

“Oh phooey. I can’t afford a new furnace. You’re sure that’s what he said?”

“Yep.”

That was all I needed to hear. My little shop wasn’t exactly raking in the dough for me the last few months. May through to the end of September are my only productive months. That’s when the town fills up with tourists. After that, my meager income barely pays for cat food.

I knew how much I had in my savings account in the bank. It was definitely nothing to brag about. If I had to dish out a thousand bucks or two, my retirement fund could hardly be called a fund anymore. More like a dribble. Not that I ever planned to retire; after all, what would I do with myself if I didn’t go down to my shop every day? Flori, however, insisted that I had to prepare for it anyway. She constantly reminds me that it’s different if you don’t have a mate. In other words, she has someone to look after her; I must look after myself.

What was I to do? Perhaps, I’d be able to talk Bob into buying the furnace for me and accepting monthly payments. If not, I’d have to try to talk the new bank manager into giving me a loan. I didn’t know Herman Wheeler very well; however, from the gossip I’d overheard in my shop, he wasn’t too quick to hand out money. He’d moved here from some small town farther north and still thought he knew more than any of us did. Jake said either he’d start thinking like Parson’s Cove folk or he’d be gone by spring. Jake’s usually right about things like that.

“Well, I’ll have to try and figure something out, Reg. When was Bob going to tell me the bad news anyway?”

“He’s probably trying to reach you now. You better hang up.”

I decided that I wouldn’t bother arguing with the sheriff as I had with Esther, so I hung up.

Twenty minutes later Bob phoned. “So Reg told you about the furnace?”

“He did but I wouldn’t mind hearing it from you. Isn’t there some way you can fix it? I don’t have much money.”

Bob was silent for a couple of seconds. That seemed like a good sign.

“Nope. It’s unfixable.”

Guess I was mistaken about the sign thing.

“But, Reg and I have a plan.”

“You and Reg?”

“Yeah, if it’s okay with you. I mean, Mabel, we both know you’re short on cash, being as you don’t have much business in that store of yours. The idea of you getting money from old Wheeler is not too good. Unless you want to put your house or shop up for colat’ral. You wanna do that?”

“No. I don’t trust people from up north. What’s your idea?” I couldn’t even imagine what kind of a scheme those two could come up with and I have a vivid imagination. That is, according to Flori, I do.

“Well, it’s about Beulah. You know, there’s no money for the funeral so we was thinkin’ that maybe after I get a new furnace in your place, we could bring all her stuff to your shop and you could sell it for us. Reg has been up to her place and he says her cabin’s full of junk. Boxes and boxes of it. The funeral won’t cost much. Donald McGee has started workin’ on a coffin. You know, just a plain pine box; she’d like something like that anyway. You can use whatever’s left over to pay for the furnace. What do you think?”

“It sounds good to me. But, what about this so-called relative of Beulah’s? Shouldn’t it be up to him or her to pay for the funeral and look after all of her things?”

“Guess it should be but Reg hasn’t been able to contact anyone yet. It’s just a rumor that she’s got relatives anyway.”

“I thought Reg was convinced. Who told him she had a relative?”

“Oh, Esther’s daughter’s spouting off somethin’ like that, I think.”

“Millicent? How does she know anything about it?”

“ ‘Pears she and Beulah were kind of close. At least, that’s what Esther claims.”

“That’s a lot of baloney. Why would they be close? There’s no way in a million years that Beulah would have told her anything. Millicent’s lying.”

“No need to get your britches in a knot. I’m just telling you what I know, Mabel. Did seem kind of strange to me an’ Reg, too.” He paused to, I assumed, move his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “What about your furnace then?”

“Yeah, go ahead. You didn’t come up with any other alternative plans did you? Like I might have a multiple choice?”

“Nope. That’s it. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it. But, Bob?”

“Yeah?”

“Find the cheapest furnace you can, okay?”

“You got it, Mabel.”

It sounded like an answer to all my problems. On the other hand, how much could be stashed up in that small cabin anyway? Would there be enough to make any money at all? Perhaps, there was no need to worry; after all, Reg and Bob were both on the cheap side. There’s no way they would risk losing money.

Who knew that one furnace would almost ruin my life?

Chapter Five

Bob installed my furnace three days later. I met him at the store so I could watch a piece of history (my old furnace) get hauled out and unceremoniously dumped into the dumpster. I quickly swept out the empty spot and removed cobwebs before the new one was shoved into place. It was shiny, streamlined and even smelled good. It took about an hour before I stopped seeing my breath in the air.

By three o’clock on the fourth day, my shop was exploding with Beulah’s junk, as Reg had so nicely described it. ‘Exploding’ accurately described my store but I certainly wouldn’t have called it all junk. Even with my untrained eye, I could tell that some of the items were worth a lot of money.

So, what was I supposed to do? Let the folks in Parson’s Cove get some good deals while I would still be worrying about paying for my furnace? On the other hand, should I advertise in the city newspaper and try to get as much money as I could from a bunch of strangers?

“It’s up to you, Mabel.” Reg had dropped in for a cup of coffee. He stood surveying my crowded store. “You’re sure some of this is valuable? It all looks the same to me–a lot of junk.”

I walked over to one of the boxes that I’d stacked in the corner and gently removed a porcelain figurine.

“Look at this,” I said, as I turned it over so he could see the bottom of it. “This is Royal Doulton.”

“That costs lots?”

“Well, it’s not worth millions but you wouldn’t find it at one of those dollar stores in the city.”

He picked up a box filled with small vases. Each one looked like a statue of a young woman. He shook his head.

“You don’t think anyone from Parson’s Cove might want to buy these, do you?”

I shrugged. All the older folks already had their homes filled with little keepsakes and I knew the younger generation had no interest in them at all.

“It’s just that if you advertise in the city paper, you know what it’s like; we’ll have the town full of strangers. And, you know what that means–if you’re involved, it means trouble.”

“That’s silly. I can’t help it if things happen sometimes. I certainly don’t ask for trouble.”

He placed his empty cup on the counter. Some of my customers wash out their cups when they’re finished. I’ve given up on trying to train the men. It’s easier to do it myself. Plus, a lot more sanitary.

“I know. Just seems criminals are attracted to you.” He zipped up his down-filled parka, pulled the flaps of his fur hat over his ears and walked to the door. He looked out the window. It was another minus-twenty-something day. I knew he didn’t want to leave my warm shop. The new furnace was working so well that I almost wanted to stay all night myself. I could hear only a faint hum each time it started up. Some of my cats purred louder. The old furnace always warned me when it was starting up with a loud bang. Now I found myself running to the little furnace room at the back of the store every once in awhile to make sure it was still there.

An hour later, Flori dropped in.

“It’s deathly cold out there, Mabel, but I couldn’t stand to be cooped up with Jake another minute. He’s driving me crazy.” She looked prayerfully towards my ceiling. “When, oh when, will spring ever come?”

Flori had shed all her layers of outerwear and was now showing off her new, bright, pink and lime green, acrylic sweater with a turtleneck and turquoise blue knit pants. When she pulled her pink woolen cap off, her hair sprang out in all directions, as usual. There were little streams of mascara running down her cheeks where the frost had melted from her lashes.

“Spring doesn’t have to come. You look like a spring day yourself, Flori.”

She glared at me. “I might look like one but I don’t feel like one. How am I going to last another three or four months? I’m telling you, if that man doesn’t find some way to occupy his time besides following me around all day, I’m going to do something drastic.”