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  Doreen shook her head, stepped forward, and said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll go see my Nan then.” And she turned her back on the gossip and headed off. She really did hate gossip.

  “No problem,” said Darren. “Pretty sure Mack will be along in a few minutes.”

  Her back stiffened. She looked over her shoulder to glare at him, saw his big grin, and promptly turned and walked down the hallway to Nan. Doreen needed to do something to stop this gossip and to stop it fast. Now if only she had an idea of how to do that.

  Chapter 6

  Sunday Evening …

  Doreen walked into Nan’s suite and sat down across from her on the small couch. “Nan, stop causing a disturbance at this place,” she announced. Then added carefully, “And I want you to stop the gossip about Mack and me.”

  Nan poured them each a cup of tea, then looked at her granddaughter, her eyes twinkling, and said, “Do you now? And why is that?”

  “Nobody likes to be gossiped about, Nan,” Doreen scolded lightly. “You know that.”

  “I never bother about gossip,” she said with an airy wave of her hand. “But you have to learn to live a little, my dear. You should care about what it is you’re doing in the moment, rather than worrying about how other people will see it. Besides, people always talk. It’s human nature.”

  Doreen’s shoulders sagged. She figured this would be one of those life-lesson talks. She firmed up her tone and said, “It’s nobody else’s business what I do.”

  “As long as you keep finding bodies and solving all these cases,” Nan said with a shake of her finger, “people’s tongues will wag. Of course it makes sense that they’ll automatically include Mack in that discussion.”

  Nan had a point. Doreen just didn’t want to think about it. “What did you do to cause the ruckus?”

  “It had absolutely nothing to do with Richie’s and my discussion,” she said complacently. “But smart of you to figure out Maisie made the call because she was upset with me.”

  “That’s a waste of official city resources,” Doreen said quietly. “What if somebody needed the police across town?”

  “There’re other cops,” Nan said. “Besides, I wouldn’t waste police man-hours like that. You’ll have to talk with Maisie about it.”

  “I would,” Doreen said on a groan, “but I doubt she’ll listen to me any more than you are.”

  At that, Nan tilted her head to the side, considered the problem, and then nodded. “You’re right there. Maisie does like drama.”

  “That was a lot of drama in the reception area,” Doreen said, “between you and Richie for sure.”

  “Oh, dear, that’s just fun. When you get to be our age, there aren’t a lot of other things we’re allowed to do.”

  “Fun?” Doreen asked. She shook her head. “I admit that fun has a different meaning for different people …”

  “Of course it does,” Nan said supportively. She patted Doreen on the hand and smiled at her. “For you, solving cases is fun. But so many people wouldn’t want anything to do with that. They wouldn’t want to get into trouble, get into danger, cross the law, find bodies, or any of that stuff,” she said. “Where you, my dear, appear to be perfectly suited for it.”

  Doreen winced at that. “I admit it is interesting work.”

  “Admit it. You think it’s great fun.”

  “Does that mean something’s wrong with me?” she asked, suddenly worried.

  Astonished, her grandmother shook her head. “Absolutely not. You’re blessed, honestly.”

  “Blessed?” Doreen wondered if Nan was going off on one of her tangents when she continued.

  “Yes, you found something that’s fun, that is exciting, that gets you out of bed with a bounce every day. You’ve always loved gardening, and so the gardening has led you to another even more exciting hobby.”

  “Sure, but it’s hardly a hobby.”

  “What would you call it?” Nan challenged. “People are coming to you now.”

  “Just this once,” Doreen protested. “Let’s not take that too far.”

  “Sure. Sure, sure,” she said, chuckling. “This week one person, maybe another one next week. Who knows? In six months, you could be getting dozens of people contacting you.”

  “Well, they can’t do that if they don’t know where I am,” Doreen said. “The only reason Penny did is because she heard about me after I found Paul and because of the fact he went missing twenty-nine years ago, which is the same amount of time her brother-in-law had been missing.”

  “Of course, and she was a local, so she knew about Paul’s case,” Nan said, nodding. “You know what you should do?”

  Doreen picked up the cup of tea Nan had placed in front of her.

  “You should set up a website.”

  Doreen almost sprayed the tea from her mouth. “A website?”

  “Absolutely. Call it something like … Finders Keepers.”

  That just … was so … wrong that Doreen couldn’t even begin to formulate an answer.

  “Maybe not that name exactly,” Nan said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Give me a little bit of time. I’ll come up with something catchy for it.”

  “I’m not trying to drum up business for this hobby,” Doreen said. “That would be terrible.”

  “Why would that be terrible?” Nan looked at her in surprise. “Seriously, you could make some good money doing this.”

  “I’m not a licensed PI. It’s only fun because I get interested in the case, and I dig until I can get to the bottom of it,” she admitted, probably for the first time to herself as well. “But it won’t be the same if people want me to do all kinds of stuff that doesn’t appeal.”

  “Oh, that’s a very good point,” Nan said. “We’ll need to add some explanation that you only take on cases that appeal. Then everybody’ll try to make their situation as interesting as possible, so you look into their case.”

  Doreen didn’t think she wanted this to go any further. “How about we just shelve that idea for a while? It’s been a crazy-enough day as it is. I’m really, really tired. I didn’t plan on coming down here now. For heaven’s sakes, I only solved this Alan Hornby problem this morning. I haven’t even had a chance to think straight today.”

  “That’s good,” Nan said, her voice firm. “Full days are good days. And, once you get to my age, and you realize how empty some days are, you will be pining for those days again.”

  “Oh, dear, that’s probably quite true.” She was sorry if Nan was bored much of the time.

  “Besides, this way,” Nan added, “you forgot all about the antiques leaving tomorrow.”

  At that, Doreen brightened. “Right. I’d forget, and then it would hit me every once in a while throughout the day, and I realize it’s tomorrow.”

  “So now you go home. Just rest, don’t worry about the website, don’t worry about finding another case, nothing at all,” she said. “If I hear of anything interesting, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, you focus on getting those antiques out of your house, okay?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Doreen said. Plus she didn’t want to think about Penny and the crazy thoughts Doreen had been having about the death of Penny’s husband. Doreen placed her empty teacup on the table, gave her Nan a gentle hug, kissed her cheek, and said, “And you stay out of trouble for once, please?”

  Nan’s twinkling eyes said she had heard but had no intention of listening. As Doreen got to the door, Nan called out, “What about the animals? Why didn’t you bring them?”

  “I raced out of the house so fast that there wasn’t time.”

  “I miss them,” Nan said. “Bring them next time, please.”

  “I will,” Doreen said, and she stepped out into the hallway, thankful the reception area was empty now. Once outside, she noted how late it was. She took several deep breaths, looked up at the moon and the sky, and shook her head.

  “That went well,” Mack said from beside her.

  Startled, she tu
rned to look at him. He sat on one of the big brick planters at the front of the building, his arms across his chest. “Are you done here?”

  “I am. I’ve been waiting for you.” He inclined his head. “Are you done here?” he asked.

  She nodded and sighed. “I do love her, but …”

  “We all love her,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry about the buts. They happen with all of us.”

  “Do they though?” she asked.

  He chuckled and said, “Come on. Let’s get you home again.”

  “It’s so late,” she said with a yawn. “I’m glad we got dinner in first. … At least some dinner.”

  “Me too. And it was good. I really enjoyed that dish. It was new for me.”

  “I still have to clean up the kitchen.” She groaned. As she got to her car, she turned to look at him. “Are you heading back to the office?”

  He shook his head. “If you want, I’ll come and help you clean up the kitchen. Otherwise, I’m heading home to bed.”

  She waved him toward his vehicle. “Go,” she said. “I’ll just put the food in the fridge and leave the dishes until morning.”

  He nodded, and they parted ways.

  Chapter 7

  Monday Morning …

  When Doreen woke up the next morning, her head felt heavy, her body achy. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve this, but it probably had to do with sleeping on her mattress on the floor. As she lay here, she remembered what today was. She bolted upright, bounced out of bed, and raced into the shower. Today, Scott, the antiques guy from Christie’s, was coming with a crew to pack up her furniture.

  Out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, she remembered how she hadn’t cleaned up the kitchen fully last night. As she glanced around her bedroom, she hadn’t taken the time to clean up the mess in here either. She needed to do more before the movers could come in and pack up everything. Why the devil had yesterday been so busy? But, of course, it had been crazy between Alan’s visit and then Penny’s visit and last night’s impromptu visit with Nan. Doreen hadn’t had much time to herself all day. And Mack had come for dinner and had made an absolutely wonderful meal for them. She wondered if she could sneak in some leftovers for breakfast because she sure didn’t have much time otherwise. She glanced at her watch and winced. It was already nine a.m. She was seriously late.

  She quickly dressed, her hair brushed back in a ponytail with short tendrils flying loose around her head. She collected her dirty laundry, ran downstairs, and put on a load of wash so at least it was out of the way, and returned to her bedroom to straighten up as much as she could. She had so many of Nan’s clothes yet to go through, and her bedroom was still filled with so much clutter. She made the bed—her pallet on the floor—as best she could and then went downstairs again.

  As she got to the bottom, she found Thaddeus sitting on his roost in the living room, staring at her wide-eyed. She walked over, reached out a hand, and he hopped onto it. She cuddled him up close, brushed the feathers on his chest and neck, and said, “Good morning, Thaddeus.”

  “Good morning, Doreen,” he cheered.

  She gasped. “When did you learn my name?”

  “Doreen, Doreen.”

  She giggled, feeling inordinately pleased. “Well, finally,” she said, “and I like you too.” She dropped a kiss on the top of his head and walked into the kitchen. She put on coffee first and foremost, as Thaddeus worked his way up onto her shoulder, so he could sit on his preferred perch and watch as she worked. With the coffee on, she turned off the alarms on the security and walked into the living room, wondering how much she had to clean up before the moving men got here. Everything was so chaotic in the house presently, and Christie’s would be taking out such big pieces that she knew the moving men would have to create a wide path, leaving behind a mess by the time they were done.

  With the minutes racing by, she filled the kitchen sink with hot soapy water and cleaned up the dishes from the previous night. She had told Mack it wasn’t a big deal, but, now that she’d overslept, she felt pressed for time. She knew it wouldn’t matter to the appraiser if her dishes were done, but somehow it mattered to her.

  With that done and realizing she was doing this backward, she checked in the fridge for some food. Just a little bit of that pasta salad was left. She brought it out, looked at it, wondered if she should eat it straight from the fridge or at room temperature. She decided to heat it up a tad and tossed it into the microwave for a couple minutes to take the chill off. Smiling, she then sat down with a cup of coffee and ate the dinner leftovers from the night before. She worried Mack would be upset with her. Although she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be, she wondered why she felt so distressed about the idea. Finally she couldn’t help herself. She took a picture, sent it to him, and texted him. Leftovers for breakfast. Hope it’s okay.

  Instead of texting her back, he phoned her. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

  “You paid for it, and you made it, and you barely got one meal’s worth of it yourself,” she explained.

  He sighed heavily. “We still have a long way to go with you, don’t we?”

  She frowned at the phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ll explain later,” he said. “When is your appraiser coming?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, “and I slept late, so I felt like I had to get some food down, then look at what else I need to do. I admit to feeling fairly stressed.”

  “Don’t panic. They’re likely to be there for hours,” he said. “Didn’t they say they could be there a couple days?”

  “It’s possible,” she said. “It depends how much trouble they have. I’m sure the smaller pieces won’t be an issue, but the bed and the couch … Well, I don’t know.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to look for the provenance stuff?”

  She gasped. “I forgot all about it. I gotta go.” She hung up and ate as fast as she could, which was a damn shame because the food was so good. Finally she slowed herself down and said, with Thaddeus staring at the tomato on her plate, “I don’t need to race through everything.”

  “Doreen, Doreen.”

  She looked at Thaddeus. “What would you like, Thaddeus?” But he’d already snatched a piece of green onion off the top of her plate and had run to the other side of the table with it. She smiled. “Not sure you’ll like that,” she said. “It does have a bit of a bite.”

  Slowing herself a little more, she finished her plate at a more reasonable rate. Then she got up, tossed her plate and fork into the hot soapy water, and turned around to take care of feeding her three animals before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. Finally she filled her coffee cup and took a deep breath. “At least that should be clean enough.” She checked her phone to realize the battery was almost dead. She’d forgotten to plug it in last night. “Damn.”

  She went upstairs and put it on its charger. In ten minutes she could get a decent amount of charge. What she didn’t want was to have Scott Rosten call her and not receive his call. While she was here in her bedroom again, she took the opportunity to pick up more boxes for Goodwill and brought them down to the front stairs. She hadn’t been able to take it all in her last trip there. She wasn’t sure she’d gotten all of the items together for Wendy either. Doreen headed upstairs once more.

  “Wendy.” She frowned and glanced at her phone on the charger. “You never called me back after I dropped off that last load on Friday.”

  She wondered if she should give Wendy a call. Doreen understood she’d gotten there early at opening time, but Wendy was supposed to get back to her after going through the latest boxes of Nan’s things. If Wendy couldn’t sell some items, she would call Doreen to pick them up. And now, of course, it was early on a Monday, so not the best time to call Wendy either. Doreen frowned at that. “Maybe your life is as crazy as mine is,” she said. “I don’t know how people do it all. They have work. They have children, and yet, still sometimes all this craziness pile
s in on top.” She shook her head. “I just have me to look after.”

  At that, Mugs barked.

  She looked at him and grinned. “And you,” she said. He was on his back, lying on her mattress on the floor, all four feet in the air, content. She reached down and scrubbed his belly, and he just sighed with happiness. She chuckled. “We should be doing more cleaning up in here. The moving men can’t even maneuver around all this stuff.” She figured she could clean out more clothes from the drawers and dressers. She still had boxes she hadn’t had a chance to sort through yet.

  Frowning, she decided to move those boxes into the spare room, at least the stuff that had come out of the dressers and the vanity. She didn’t want to rush the job of going through Nan’s clothing as there was money to be found. Who could forget Nan’s habit of leaving money in her clothing? Still, Doreen needed to clear out some of the clutter in here.

  With that done, she heard vehicles outside. She looked out the front window, and, sure enough, Scott was here. She ran down the stairs and opened the front door. She beamed up at him. “Hey, I wasn’t sure how early you would come.”

  “I tried to call earlier, but the phone was busy,” he explained, “so I just came straight over. I hope that’s okay?”

  Her head bobbed a yes. “Sure is. Come on in, please. I’m so terrified of things going wrong that I couldn’t wait for you to come. It’s been a very stressful weekend,” she said.

  Scott chuckled. “Well, we’re here now,” he said.

  She looked behind Scott to see the men with him. “Oh, good, you brought four men with you,” she exclaimed.

  “Yes, I figured it was probably easier to bring more men and see if we could get it all done today than stay in town and have just two of them.”

  “I’m amazed it would take that long actually,” she said, “because a moving truck and a couple guys could have it all out of here in an hour.”

  The foreman just looked at her.

 

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