Laina Turner - The Trixie Pristine Boxed Set Page 12

“Are they all like this?” I looked at the stack. “There must be about a hundred in this pile.”

  “Good eye. A hundred and four to be exact. Yes, they’re all similar in the fact that they are short, one or two sentences, vague, and somewhat immature sounding.”

  “You said these weren’t at all the kind of messages the people you’re running from would send?”

  He chuckled. “No. They aren’t the type to send a threatening email. They would just show up and kill you.”

  “I can see that. So, who do you think is behind these?”

  “I have no idea. Neither did Marla. She assumed it might be someone unhappy with her success with the snow globes. She didn’t stop making them; she just changed her website and went under a pseudonym. I told her that was dangerous, but she was so passionate about those damn things. She said if she stopped making them she might as well die.”

  I could understand that. I felt that way about books. “So no one knew that Marla was Sarah online?”

  His eyes widened. “You knew?”

  Oops, I had forgotten to tell him I knew that part, too. “Yes, it’s one of the things I ran across.”

  “I don’t think so. She promised me she didn’t tell anyone. She knew how dangerous it could be.”

  But she did tell at least one person. “Jack, I’m afraid she told at least one person. A Linda Harvey. She was a fellow snow glober. At least that’s what she said.”

  He held up his hands. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about? How did you talk to someone who knew Marla?”

  It was time for me to come clean and ’fess up to the snooping I had been doing. “I found out Marla had a passion for snow globes.”

  “How? She was very private about that and didn’t tell anyone here. At least that’s what she told me. She said she would keep the snow globe part of her life away from her home base.”

  “Don’t be mad, but I went to her house, and I saw the room where I assume she made the snow globes.”

  “You snooped through her house?”

  I looked at him sheepishly. “Well, I was tying to find information and didn’t know how else to find out. In fact, I drove by there the other night and saw someone else snooping. There was a light bobbing around like someone was in there with a flashlight. But I drove off. I was too chicken to wait and see who it was.”

  “That was probably me. The police don’t know yet that Marla and I are related, and I was looking for anything she might have left behind that would allude to that fact.”

  I started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I saw your car around the block when I was driving off, and I thought for sure you were seeing someone behind my back. It had me just as worried as this whole murder mess.”

  “Oh no, Trix. There’s no other woman. I’m sorry you thought that.”

  “Oh please,” I said waving away his worry with my hands. “It’s what I get for snooping. Though, you ignoring me didn’t help. I’m just glad it’s not something I have to worry about. Back to Sylvia, I thought the snow globes might be a link to finding out more about her, so I went online and went searching for groups of people who made snow globes. I posted on a few of them asking if anyone had information about Sylvia. This lady, Linda Harvey, called me in response to my posts.”

  “Oh my God. What did she do? How could she have been so stupid to have been active in that way!”

  “I’m sorry, Jack.”

  “What did this Linda person say?”

  “Not a lot. Just that they had been friends of sorts. Were co-chairs of some kind of snow globe committee. I’m not sure of all the specifics. Linda said Sylvia/Marla was quiet and didn’t like to be in public. Linda said she’d refused to go to any shows. Something that Linda didn’t understand, since her snow globes were so amazing. That she was the person you wanted for a custom globe. She hadn’t known Sylvia/Marla was murdered and was very distraught. She said she would call if she thought of anything else.”

  “Great. I wonder how many other people Marla friended I didn’t know about? Damn. The plan was to move here and lay low. Not to go all over the Internet promoting her crafts. She knew that would be the easiest way for them to find us.”

  “Jack, calm down. Being mad at her now won’t do any good. Besides, I’m not convinced it was them who killed her because you’re still alive.” It made no sense, but then it didn’t make sense that someone else was after Sylvia/Marla.

  “I’m going around expecting it to happen any minute.”

  “But Jack, if they had found you guys, why wouldn’t they have killed you, too? Why would they wait?”

  “I don’t know. To scare me?”

  “Have they contacted you in any way?”

  “No.”

  “Is that surprising to you?”

  “Well, a little.”

  “It’s been almost two weeks and you’re still alive and you’ve heard nothing from them. Maybe it wasn’t them.”

  “So…what then? You think maybe this was a random thing?”

  “I honestly don’t know. There’s one more thing I found today.” I was thinking of the slip of paper I had found. I went to my purse and pulled it out, handing it to him.

  “What’s this?” He said looking at the paper and turning it over.

  “I don’t know. At first I thought maybe it was a combination to a P.O. Box, but I called my friend Lucy at the post office, and she said they don’t have any boxes with those numbers. She recommended I try the bus station. I had planned on going after work but went to your office instead.”

  “Should we go out there and check?”

  “We can. What could she have possibly wanted to hide?”

  *****

  “So you have no idea what this note could mean?” I asked Jack. We were on our way over to the bus station to check out Lucy’s theory.

  “No, but with all the things Sylvia was hiding it could be anything. I’m almost scared to find out.”

  “Be positive. Maybe it’s the clue that will lead us, or rather the police, to the killer so we can move on from this mess.”

  “I wish I thought it was going to be that easy,” Jack said.

  “Maybe today will be our lucky day.” I pulled into the bus station parking lot and we got out. We headed up to the entrance. “Do you know where the lockers are?”

  “No. I’ve never been here before.”

  “Me, either. Look, over there is the building directory. That should tell us.” We walked over to the backlit plastic map and looked for the lockers. “Okay, it looks like the locker bank is over to the right of the cashier windows.” I glanced around to search for the cashier windows.

  “Over there.” Jack pointed to our left. We walked down the hall past the lines of people waiting to buy tickets.

  “You know, I’ve never taken a bus anywhere before.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Really. Except for a school bus. Have you?”

  “When I was in college I was dating a girl who was at a school a couple hours away. I didn’t have a car, so if I couldn’t borrow one I would take the bus. It was cheap.”

  “Here they are,” I interrupted him. We turned left to the rows of lockers. I dug in my purse for the piece of paper that had what we thought might be the locker number and combination on it.

  “What’s the number?”

  “Just one second, I know it was right here in my wallet.” I said rummaging around. “Here it is.” I handed him the piece of paper.

  “We want locker number thirty-seven ninety.” He looked at the numbers. “It must be farther down this way.” We walked down a few more rows. “Here it is. Thirty-seven ninety.” He paused.

  “Are you worried? About what you might find, I mean?”

  “A little, but I’d rather know than not know.”

  “I guess it’s a little late to be thinking this, but should we have told the police?”

  “You’re right. It’s a little late for tha
t. I am more than willing to turn whatever is in this locker to the police, if it helps solve her murder. If there’s anything in there.”

  “Well, then. Go on. Open it up.” I nervously watched him twirl the combination. We were both apprehensive. And who knew if it would even work? We might have been chasing a dead end.

  “Okay, last number.” He looked at me, dial set on fourteen. “You ready?”

  “Oh, just get it over with and see if it works already!”

  He pulled up on the latch; it clicked. His eyes widened. I didn’t think he was actually expecting it to work. The door swung open, and we peered in to see a hot pink Hello Kitty backpack.

  We looked at each other. I didn’t think either one of us were really expecting the locker would open. We just stood there for a few minutes until my curiosity overcame my shock. “Well, go ahead and open it already.”

  He reached in and pulled out the backpack. “Something is definitely in there. It’s heavy.” He reached for the zipper and opened up. He looked in. “What the hell?” he swore softly.

  I was getting impatient. “What’s in there?”

  He moved his body so it was blocking the bag from anyone who might be walking by and opened it to show me. Inside were stacks of money. It looked like bundles of twenties. I had no idea how many twenties were in a bundle, but this had to be a lot of money. “Where do you think she got all this?”

  “I don’t know, but I sure as hell bet it’s got something to do with her murder,” he said grimly. He zipped the bag back up. “Let’s get out of here. You carry the bag,” he handed it to me. “You’ll look less funny carrying a Hello Kitty backpack than I will.”

  I took the backpack from him and slung it over my shoulder like it was everyday I carried around what must have been at least thousands of dollars. We walked in silence to my car. We got in, and I handed him back the bag. He held onto it while we drove to my house in silence. I don’t think either one of us knew what to say. We finally made it home and were in the privacy of my living room where he opened the bag again and dumped its contents onto my couch.

  “How much do you think is there?” I asked, looking at what had to be fifty bundles of twenties.

  He picked up a stack and thumbed through it. “I’d say they’re your normal bundles of fifty, so that would make a thousand per bundle, and we have…” he started counting the bundles. “Fifty-three bundles. So you’re looking at fifty-three thousand dollars here.”

  “Holy crap. What was she doing with fifty-three thousand dollars?”

  “I have no idea, Trixie.”

  “Do you think she could have made this selling snow globes?”

  “In cash, no. Her business was mainly online. People paid via Paypal.”

  “You have to give this to the police, Jack.”

  “I know, but what exactly am I supposed to tell them?”

  “The truth. That you have no idea what she was doing with this kind of money. Maybe they can trace it or something? It’s worth a shot.”

  “Can you call Clive?”

  “Sure,” I said, reaching for my phone. “Are you going to tell him about your past? Sylvia’s past?”

  He sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice. I just hope this helps, and it’s not yet another dead end.”

  Clive arrived a few minutes later, and we filled him in on everything.

  “Don’t you think it would have been helpful to tell me all this earlier, Jack?” Clive asked. He was not happy at all that he was just now finding this stuff out. “You’ve impeded my investigation!”

  “Clive, I’m sorry. You just have to understand, when she was murdered I freaked out. I thought…I thought the less people knew the better. And I was scared. I know now I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  Clive just glared at him. “I’ll need you to come down to the station in the morning to give a formal statement. In the meantime, I’ll have a car follow you home and stay there until we can get to the bottom of this.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Trix.” He said, leaning over and giving me a quick kiss.

  “I’m not happy with you either, Trixie.” Clive said. “Next time, don’t go off nosing on your own.”

  “I won’t,” I assured him. “Be careful,” I called to Jack as they all walked out the door.

  Chapter 20

  Don’t look now, but it’s Maxine Overstreet,” Berklie said to me when she noticed her walking in the door.

  “I wonder who she’s coming to gossip about,” I said, closing the door to the pastry case that I had just finished cleaning out.

  “I don’t know, but I am so tired of people talking. I realize Sylvia being murdered is a big deal. I get that. But I also have to deal with the fact she was dating my ex-husband and then that mess at Murphy’s by the other chick he’s been banging. I am so over Tom’s bullshit.”

  “Just realize you’re a strong woman, Berklie. Most people would be in bed with all this going on,” I said.

  “I’d like to be, but Tom is in no shape to take care of the girls, with this whole Sylvia mess. So I have had them every night. Thank goodness for Mrs. Cook and her daughters. She’s been gracious enough to help me out when I need to be here at the shop. And the girls love to play together.”

  “I didn’t even think about that. You do have a lot on your plate,” Sophie said. “I don’t know how you guys balance motherhood and everything else that goes on in life.”

  “We don’t really. We just wing it,” I said. “You’ll do the same when you have kids. Well, hi, Mrs. Busybody,” I said, turning my attention to her as she walked up to the counter. “Some coffee for you today? We just brewed some fresh. And maybe a fresh scone to go with it?”

  “Some coffee would be nice.” She sniffed, letting me know that coffee was not the main reason she came in. I poured her a cup and sat it in front of her.

  “Cream and sugar?” I asked.

  “No. Too many calories. Black is fine.” Maxine took a sip while we all waited for her to say what was on her mind. “So, what do you ladies know about that Stephen fellow who’s been nosing around?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I know he’s been in here. I’ve seen him. She’s also been spending time with him,” Maxine said, pointing to Sophie.

  “How’s that any of your business?” Sophie bristled. I put my hand on her arm. It didn’t do any good to get mad at women like this. They fed off it. Kind of like rabid dogs; you didn’t want them to see your fear.

  “Maxine, I’m not sure what you think we can tell you about him. Yes, he’s been in a couple times, but he seems like a fine fellow,” I said.

  “He hasn’t been asking you a lot of questions? Questions about things that are none of his business?”

  Like what he’s doing is any of your business, I thought. “No. Not me.” I turned to Berklie and Sophie. “You guys think any of his questions have been unusual?”

  “No. Nothing out of the normal trying to get to know people and the area,” Berklie said.

  “Same here,” said Sophie.

  Maxine narrowed her eyes and looked at us. “Mark my words, that man is up to something.”

  We just smiled and watched her walk away. “It was almost as if she didn’t believe us,” I said to Berklie and Sophie.

  “I just don’t understand what it is about some people that makes them think they can get into everyone’s business,” Sophie said, shaking her head.

  “Boredom,” said Berklie. “I don’t think ladies like her have enough to keep themselves busy, so they see what they can stir up.”

  “Now I do agree that Maxine is out of line with her nosiness, but what are your thoughts on Stephen?” I said, directing my question to Sophie, who knew him better than Berklie or I.

  “I think nothing. He’s seems like just a regular guy,” Sophie said. “He doesn’t give me any weird vibes or anything. He’s no different than the rest of us.”

  Chapter 21

  I ca
n’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I said, bent over, heaving. I had noticed a few extra pounds creeping on, probably because of my wine intake, which had also increased lately, and Sophie suggested I go running with her. An idea that in theory seemed decent. She also made it seem so easy and cute, matching running clothes with her brown hair all tied up in a ponytail. I, on the other hand, was not so glamorous in my raggedy sweats and my face beet red.

  “Trixie, we’ve only gone about a half mile,” she said, jogging in place. “You can go a little further.”

  “Only if you carry me. I’m dying here.”

  “You’re not dying. You’re just out of shape.” She tried cajoling me. “C’mon, just a few hundred more yards and we can relax on your porch and have a nice glass of ice tea.”

  I stood up. Boy, it was painful. I had the worst stitch in my side. “Can’t I just walk home?” I pleaded.

  “If you can walk, you can run. Now get moving. We’ll keep it slow.”

  “It would have to be a complete stop to be slow enough for me.”

  “Quit whining. You can do it!”

  “I started jogging again, slowly. In fact, I was running so slowly I thought Sophie was going to have to run circles around me. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we made it to my front yard. I stopped and leaned on my car, barely able to breathe.

  “When was the last time you exercised?” Sophie said, apparently surprised at how out of shape I was.

  “I exercised after Cody was born to lose the weight. But once I got to my pre-baby weight, other things took priority.”

  “So what? You haven’t exercised in eight years?”

  “I wouldn’t say never,” I retorted defensively. “I’ve been to zumba here and there, and I once tried a yoga class. I’ve been busy.”

  “You’re never too busy for exercise. You just need to build it in your schedule. Like I do.”

  I glared at her. While I admired her for getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise, and she certainly looked amazing for it, I wasn’t in the mood for one of her pep talks. Maybe after I stopped feeling like I was going to have a heart attack and had a big glass of water I would feel better. It took about twenty minutes to finally feel somewhat back to normal. We sat on my front porch. It was cool but sunny, and it was nice to be outside. “I can’t believe you actually find this fun.”