Chapter 32 #2
I jerked back from my phone, surprised at his vehemence. “It’s not stolen and it’s not your stuff.” I winced, realizing I’d just admitted Trevor’s being the responsible party. “Look, I’ll make sure everything’s put back the way you left it by tomorrow, all right?”
“You make sure it is or I’ll call the cops.”
I rolled my eyes. “Got it. When you find Felicity, could you please tell her to call me? It’s important.”
He sighed again, as if I’d just asked him to roll a boulder up a mountain. “Yeah, sure.”
“Thank you, Henry. And please—” I stopped, realizing he’d already ended the call.
I went ahead and got dressed so I’d be ready when Felicity called, and when she hadn’t called an hour later, I sat down at the kitchen table again and tried to lose myself in my backlog of paperwork.
But my thoughts kept going back to the wig and the doll, and I spent more time checking my phone to make sure I hadn’t somehow not heard it ring and readjusting the volume to ensure that it was loud enough.
My stomach had begun grumbling, alerting me to the lunch hour, but I was reluctant to go into the kitchen and heat something up or make a sandwich in case Felicity called and was ready to go right away.
I was in the process of standing up, with the goal of snagging from the kitchen a plate of cookies to tide me over, when the front doorbell rang.
I opened my Ring app and was surprised to find Camille on my doorstep.
I hobbled to the top of the steps and shouted down toward the door, “I’ll be right there! ”
I’d become a pro at maneuvering myself down to the bottom of the stairway using my arms, rear end, and left foot, so it took me just under two minutes to reach the door, pull myself up, and unlatch it.
“Camille, it’s so nice to see you.” I looked behind her. “Is Felicity with you?”
“Hello, Nola,” Camille said sweetly, her arms wrapped around a large Thermos. “Felicity said she needed to stay with Mimi, so she asked if I’d stop by. I made some of my chicken soup for you.”
My stomach grumbled in response. “Wow—that was really nice of you. Thank you. I’m absolutely starving. I only had a bite of frozen waffle for breakfast. It’s a good thing Jolene’s back, so I don’t starve to death.” I hopped backward to open the door wider and allow her inside.
“Oh, is Jolene back already? I didn’t think she was due in until tomorrow.”
“Yes, she came back early. I’m sorry you missed her and my sister, Sarah. They’re out looking for our Christmas tree and getting a head start on their shopping. I don’t expect them back until suppertime.”
“Well, then,” she said, “I’m glad I stopped by. I can feed you and keep you company at the same time.”
I spotted her car in the driveway before I shut the door and locked it. “I really appreciate it. You go on up—it will take me a minute to join you.”
“I can help….”
“No—but thanks. I’ve got it. If you don’t mind, could you please put some of that soup into a couple of bowls while you’re waiting so we can have lunch together?
I think there’s a few of Jolene’s dinner rolls still left, too.
They should be in a baggie on the counter.
You can stick them in the toaster oven to heat. I promise it won’t take long.”
She appeared worried. “Only if you’re sure…”
I gave her a thumbs-up and began my one-legged hop up the stairs while holding on to the banister with both hands.
When I made it back into the apartment, my laptop had been pushed aside and two bowls of steaming soup were waiting on the table.
The toaster oven beeped as I hopped toward the table.
Camille helped me sit and then propped my leg up on a chair before placing the bread on a plate next to me.
She pulled out a chair, but before she sat down she noticed the corrugated box sitting in the front room.
“Is that from the shop?” she asked.
I turned and, for the first time, noticed the store’s name and logo stamped on the side. “Sort of,” I said slowly. I didn’t want to get Trevor into trouble, and I didn’t know Camille well enough to know if she’d get the joke.
“ ‘Sort of’?” she said.
“Yeah, um, it was accidentally put into Jolene’s car and then carried upstairs. It’s not inventory or anything—just miscellaneous stuff from the desk. Don’t worry—Beau knows about it, and I’m positive he’ll make sure everything’s put back where it belongs.”
She frowned. “Henry did say some things were missing from the store. Nothing valuable, so I didn’t report it and just assumed we’d find it moved someplace.
Henry was upset mostly because some of the items were of a personal nature, but they wouldn’t mean anything to anyone but him.
Do you know if anyone’s gone through the box? ”
“I couldn’t say. I don’t know how long Jolene’s had it or who’s had access to it. I do know it traveled to Mississippi and back in her car over Thanksgiving.”
“That’s just bizarre, isn’t it? So, what on earth is it doing here?”
I shrugged and took a large spoonful of soup, along with a bite of butter-slathered bread. After swallowing, I said, “I have no idea. But you should ask Beau. He’ll know.” I smiled to myself, having dodged a bullet so that it landed firmly in Beau’s backside.
“Well, if it’s all right with you, I’ll just take the box down to my car when I leave, and I can take it back to the store on Monday. That’ll save Beau the trouble of bringing it back.”
“Sounds like a win-win,” I said as I scooped up another spoonful of soup. “And you’re being so kind that I hate to ask you for a favor.”
Camille patted my forearm. “It’s what I’m here for, Nola. Just tell me what you need and I’ll be happy to take care of it.”
I took a spoonful of soup and thoughtfully chewed the chicken and vegetables while savoring the broth before I responded. “Would you mind driving me to the house on Esplanade? I promise I won’t keep you very long, but I need to check something out.”
“I’d love to. I’ve heard Beau and Mimi talking so much about this ‘murder-flip’ project that I’m intrigued. I just hope I don’t find it too scary. I’ve never been one of those people who like ghost stories or haunted houses.”
“Same,” I said, recalling the heavy footsteps, the terrible smell, and the feeling of dread from the last time I was in the house on Esplanade. “I think it’s an acquired taste. Fortunately, it’s broad daylight outside, so it’s the best time of day to visit an old house.”
“Why? Because ghosts don’t like the sun?”
“No, because you can see and appreciate all the architectural details.”
“Ah,” she said, nodding. “Not that I believe in ghosts, of course. Or haunted houses.”
Noticing that my bowl was now empty, she said, “Would you like some more?”
“I’m stuffed—thank you. I think I ate too much, but it was really delicious.” I looked at my phone. “We should get going. It won’t take us long, but sunset comes pretty early this time of year.”
Camille began to clear the table. “Let me clean up, and you go elevate your leg. I’ll be quick.”
I listened to the clang of dishes from the kitchen as I hopped to the living room.
As I sat down on the sofa, my gaze fell on the box, its unsealed flaps folded into one another.
Being my father’s daughter, I couldn’t not open it now, especially after the conversation with Camille.
I slipped down to my knees, crawled over to the box, and pulled open the flaps.
The box was only partially filled, making it easy to move things around and see what was contained inside.
I laughed when I noticed a game controller, knowing how much its absence must have frustrated Henry.
That was the only item from the house, as far as I could tell; the rest of the objects were office items—including a stapler, a box of paper clips, a rubber-band-wrapped stack of hangtags, several catalogs for upcoming estate sales, and an inventory book—the pilfering of all of which was intended to annoy rather than harm.
I admired Trevor’s cleverness as much as I appreciated his victim selection, and I couldn’t help smiling as I rummaged through the box, almost laughing out loud when I found opened bags of Doritos and Oreos and a six-pack of Coca-Cola cans.
Henry would not have been happy being deprived of his stash of junk food.
I’d reached the bottom of the box when I spotted a familiar cloth bag, closed with a string at the top.
It was identical to the two bags that had been given to Beau and me and that I’d rediscovered in my purse and put away in the desk drawer.
I pulled the bag out of the box, feeling hard, round stones through the thin cloth, and I opened the top.
Three crystals—one pink, one green, and one blue—lay nestled inside.
I stared at the bag, confused. Had Henry gone to see Madame Zoe?
He didn’t strike me as the type of person who would seek out a fortune teller, but I’d misread people before.
I just had to think about Michael Hebert to confirm that.
I’d dropped the bag back into the box and was folding the flaps up when Camille spoke.
“You ready to go?”
I looked up to see her in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on one of Jolene’s Wizard of Oz dish towels.
“Yep—ready.” I crawled back to the sofa to pull myself up. “I was curious about what was in the box. Nothing valuable—just bits and pieces—but I can understand why Henry would be annoyed.”
Camille frowned. “I just don’t understand why Trevor would want to do that. Perhaps Christopher should have a talk with Trevor’s grandmother.”
I looked at her to see if she might be joking, but I quickly dismissed the thought. Camille didn’t seem the type to joke. Or, apparently, to find fault with her husband.