“Hello, Orchid,” I said.
Orchid and Zephyr were sitting on a nineteenth century settee that had once belonged to a sea captain. It was an elegant piece that I would be unhappy to sell. But that wouldn’t keep me from selling it. In a chair by herself, Roxanne cried. She was truly inconsolable.
“Helga, how are you holding up?” Orchid asked. “You would be amazed by how many people discuss your predicament.”
“That many?” I asked.
“Truly, more than I thought possible,” Orchid said.
“And they’re not all on your side,” Zephyr added.
“That does not surprise me,” I said. “People like to think the worst of everyone.”
“I’m afraid that’s easy to do,” Zephyr said. “Most people live down to their reputations.”
We all laughed—except for Roxanne.
“Roxanne,” I said, “Roxanne, I need to talk to you.”
“Me?” Roxanne wiped her eyes. “Why would you want to talk to me?”
“You’re here all day. You hear as much as Orchid and Zephyr. Have you heard anything about the murder?”
“I have heard a thing or two,” Roxanne said. “It seems some of the women truly miss Mr. Jamison. He was a pest at times, but no one really thought he was dangerous.”
“He wasn’t, not really,” I said. “I was simply too angry to put up with his antics when I threw him out of the store. What else have you heard.”
“Well, the few men I have listened to will not miss Mr. Jamison at all. They were of the opinion that their wives would not be badgered now.”
“That makes sense,” I said.
“It’s all speculation,” Orchid said. “No one really knows anything. In fact, one woman thought Thomas Jamison had been shot by three arrows.”
“Another knew for certain that Thomas had been covered by black lipstick kisses that spelled out the word, “CHEATER”. That made me laugh.”
I was beginning to think that the ghosts, while meaning well, knew next to nothing about the murder. If I got any meaningful information from them, I would be exceedingly lucky.
“While we’re talking,” I said. “Can we look for Roxanne’s necklace?”
“Why, that would be so gallant of you,” Roxanne said. “I would be forever grateful.”
“We’ll start upstairs,” I said. “After all, most of the pieces down here have been pawed by a lot of customers.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Roxanne said.
“And there are many pieces upstairs that haven't been rigorously examined,” Orchid said.
“Then, let’s get going,” I said.
The ghosts met me on the second floor, in the midst of the hodgepodge that was the inventory of Richardson’s Antiques. It wasn’t everything. I had some pieces stored in a small warehouse. If all else failed, I would go there and search for the necklace. I was willing to do almost anything to rid the store of Roxanne.
“Where shall we begin?” Zephyr asked.
I pointed to a large armoire. “That looks promising. I’m sure there are some half-hidden compartments that might just hold our necklace.”
“You have a fine eye,” Orchid said.
I moved to the armoire and opened the doors. There were indeed a large number of drawers, and those were the ones I could see. In older times, before banks were trusted, many pieces of furniture came equipped with hidden drawers and cubbyholes. People hid money and jewels in their furniture. It wasn’t as if the drawers were absolutely safe. It was that a burglar or robber wouldn’t take the time to carefully search the piece. Most thieves were of the smash-and-grab variety.
I started with the top drawers, pulling them all the way out and checking them underneath and behind. More than once, I had found an envelope of something taped to the underside. I also checked the depth of the drawer. A drawer that was considerably shorter than it’s neighbor might mean a hidey hole behind it.
This drawer yielded absolutely nothing. I put it back.
I grabbed the second drawer.
“You know,” Orchid said. “You should invite Jacob over to help with the search.”
“That’s right,” Zephyr said. “I’m sure he would love to assist in any way he could.”
“He’s busy,” I said. “So am I.”
“You know he looks at you with moon eyes,” Zephyr said. “I think he fancies you.”
I shook my head and examined the second drawer.
“Everyone can see it,” Orchid said. “And don’t let his position on the police force dissuade you. He’s a real catch.”
“We’re friends,” I said. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I think it’s terribly romantic,” Roxanne said. “You and a detective. It seems like something out of a novel.”
“He looks like a detective,” Orchid said. “Like something from a Poe story. Straightforward and intelligent.”
“And he’s not so difficult as some of those detectives from the dime novels I read. He seems absolutely gentle.”
“He’s handsome,” Roxanne swooned. “Any woman can see that.”
I replaced the second drawer and went to the third, trying my best to ignore the ghosts.
“When you think about it,” Zephyr said, “Jacob is perfect for Helga. After all, he already knows she’s a witch.”
“That makes it ever so much better,” Orchid said. “Think of the difficulties that would arise if Helga had to explain her witchcraft to him.”
“It would be a wonderful wedding,” Roxanne said. “I think a garden in bloom would be the perfect setting.”
“Oh, yes,” Orchid said. “The scents would be magnificent.”
“Stop, stop, stop,” I said. “Jacob and I are not involved like that. We’re friends, good friends. We’ve been good friends since high school. That’s a good thing, a wonderful thing, and we’re not going to put it at risk by trying to make it more than what it is. So, if you don’t mind, can you stop all the talk about Jacob and me.”
“Someone is overreacting,” Orchid said.
“She doth protest too much,” Roxanne said.
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Zephyr added.
I shook my head. “That’s it. If you’re going to continue to talk about Jacob, I’m going home.”
“Oh no,” Roxanne said. “We’ll be quiet about that. We promise.”
“We do?” Orchid said.
“You better,” I said. “Because I mean what I said.”
“Our lips are sealed,” Zephyr said. “About Jacob.”
“Great. So, let me tell you about my suspects.”
“Ooooh, yes,” Zephyr said. “I like this.”
As I checked drawers and the armoire for hidden spaces, I told the ghosts about Jennifer and Eric. I outlined Jennifer’s motives, the life insurance and a possible lover. Those items made the ghosts take notice.
“I saw the same thing when I was on your side of things,” Orchid said. “A neighbor had an older, rich husband and a young, poor lover. It was only a matter of time before the back door was left unlocked, so the young lover could bludgeon the old husband. They thought they were clever and careful, but the police figured it out. They were both hanged.”