Body in the Antique Trunk-A Lady Locksmith Mystery Read online

  She led us up a few steps to the living room. I glanced around the room, noting that little had changed. It still held older style furniture with crocheted lace doilies decorating the arms and back of the sofa and armchairs. We sat across from her and her mother. “I’m Lola Jarrin. What do you want to know?”

  “I’m Mrs. Anderson and I’m not sick,” the first lady put in, sending a glare at her daughter.

  “What’s your first name, Mrs. Anderson?” Chance asked the older lady, his ever present notebook and pen at the ready.

  “Iris,” she said, flushing.

  “And your husband’s name is?”

  “Vincent. But he passed away about six months ago.” She nervously watched Chance write it down, as though seeing it on a police report was something scary. And maybe for her, it was.

  Chance smiled reassuringly at her and asked, “Do you still have that china cabinet? I don’t see one here.”

  I stared at him, taken aback at his question. Could there be more than one of that unusual piece? No, I’d seen that broken glass. It had to have been the same one. What was Chance up to?

  “No,” Mrs. Anderson said. “After my husband died last fall, I sold some of our things. And Lola came here to live with me. I haven’t been well.”

  “That’s right,” Lola put in, running a nervous hand through her long, dark hair.

  “Do you know who you sold it to?” Chance asked.

  Mrs. Anderson looked confused and turned to Lola.

  “No,” Lola said shaking her head. “We had a garage sale and most people just paid cash and took the things with them. I didn’t keep names and addresses.”

  “That was quite a nice piece to sell at a garage sale,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, but the man paid cash. I remember that. Two hundred dollars,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Can you imagine anyone carrying around that much money?”

  I gasped at the price. “Two hundred dollars? That piece was worth at least ten times that.”

  Mrs. Anderson reached out and patted my hand. “Oh, no, dear. I bought it with my wedding money for only twenty nine dollars. Two hundred cash was a good price for it. I was real happy to get that.”

  “Really?” Chance said, giving her a smile. “Do you remember what the man who bought it looked like?”

  Mrs. Anderson frowned, running a wrinkled hand through her wispy hair. “Well, he was about Lola’s age and tall and thin. And had a nice smile, didn’t he, Lola?”

  Lola scowled at her. “I have no idea.”

  “Sure, you do, Lola. You helped him load it on his old brown pickup, remember? He had a woman with him. She was the one who wanted the china cabinet. And they bought our old green sleeping bag, to use for padding in the pickup to get it home without breaking the glass.”

  Lola flushed and murmured, “Yeah, I guess they did.”

  I eyed Lola. Was she just pretending to forget? Why would she?

  “What did the woman look like?” Chance pressed.

  Lola shrugged. “Young and dark haired. Skinny and smart-mouthed.”

  “Did they say anything about who they were or where they lived?”

  “No.” Lola lifted her chin in a defiant gesture. “It was months ago and I didn’t pay much attention to them.”

  “Do you remember the license number? Or the make or model of the pickup?” Chance persisted.

  “Of course not. How would I know that? Why do you want to know, anyway?” Her voice rose to an irritated tone.

  Chance smiled. “It’s connected to another case I’m working on. Would you happen to recognize this couple?” He leaned forward and handed Lola a snapshot.

  She frowned as she looked at it. “No, it wasn’t them. I never saw these people before.”

  Mrs. Anderson peered at the picture over Lola’s shoulder, but neither seemed to react to the snapshot. “No, I don’t know them,” Lola repeated irritably and handed back the picture.

  Chance said, “Well, they may be the last couple who had your cabinet. Do you have any idea how they would have gotten it?”

  Lola shrugged. “No. How would I know?”

  Her mother just looked puzzled. “But she wanted it so much. Why would she sell it again so soon?”

  “Who knows, Ma? Maybe the people who bought it from us needed money and sold it again.”

  Chance rose, taking my hand and pulling me up with him. “We won’t take any more of your time. Thanks for your help.”

  ***

  As we drove back to Canton, I said, “Sorry. That wasn’t much help.”

  “Maybe not. But I think Lola was lying about not knowing who bought the cabinet.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression, too. But I don’t get it. Why would she?”

  Chance shrugged. “As you said, it was worth a lot more than her mother sold it for. Maybe Lola got them to buy it cheap and they resold it for a lot more.”

  “But why?”

  Chance lifted a brow. “I should have asked more questions. Often it’s a family thing, like keeping money from siblings or deciding how to divide up property.”

  I chewed my lip in frustration. “But Mrs. Anderson isn’t on death’s door, at least she didn’t look that way to me.”

  “But Lola didn’t correct her when she thought two hundred was a good price. Or act surprised or dismayed when you said it was worth more.”

  “Yeah. That probably means she already knew that,” I agreed. “But I could see that scenario if they’d sold it to some antique dealer. But to this couple? I don’t think they’d buy an expensive antique. Nothing else they had was worthy of even a garage sale.”

  “True. But something’s weird here. I need to get back to my computer and do some background checks on everyone connected with this. Sorry to cut our evening short.” He pulled up in front of my house and parked.

  “Where did you get that picture of the couple?” I asked, remembering the snapshot he’d shown the women.

  “I found it in that house and showed it to the realtor. She identified the couple as those who had rented the house.”

  “Oh. I should have guessed that. Do you want some coffee?” I leaned over to give him a kiss.

  He cuddled my head in his big hands, pressing his lips to mine and then his tongue met mine in invitation. Hot need jumped between us. He knew my invitation meant more than a cup of coffee and deepened the kiss, then he groaned and pulled back. “Wish I could, but not tonight, Cassie. I’ll call you later. Thanks for supper and your help tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Considerate as usual, he waited while I walked to the door and unlocked it. I snapped on the light switch and gasped.

  My kitchen was a mess and so was what I could see of my office through the open doorway.

  Chapter 3

  I backed out and dashed over to Chance.

  The minute he saw me come out the door, he jumped out of his car and met me half-way, opening his arms to me. “What’s the matter, Cassie?”

  “S…someone broke in. My house is a mess.” Tears ran down my cheeks as I held tightly to him. Then my fear changed to anger and I pulled back and wiped my face. “Someone broke in, damn it! They must have seen us leave. We weren’t gone that long.”

  Chance nodded, already on his phone, calling the sheriff’s office. After talking to the sheriff, he hung up and turned back to me. “You wait in my car while I check the house, just in case they’re still here.”

  I gasped at that possibility and a shiver ran down my body. “Be careful, Chance!” I called to him as he drew his gun and disappeared inside my house. I saw lights go on in various rooms so knew where he’d moved to check for anyone. I swallowed when I saw my bedroom light go on. Had I made my bed this morning? Or picked up after myself? What did it matter?

  Still, the thought of a burglar going through my house was unnerving. What could he have wanted? I have little of value. My house is old and most of the furnishings either came with it or from thrift stores. Though I
do try to keep the old place neat, it’s not the kind of house to attract thieves. There were many more affluent looking houses in the area. Why choose mine?

  A police car pulled into my drive and I saw it was Deputy Roger. I told him Chance was inside and he hurried in, too.

  I waited anxiously for a few minutes, but no one appeared. Growing impatient, I headed for the house. I’d almost reached the door when Chance appeared.

  “All clear,” he said. “Come in and see if you can tell us if anything’s missing, but don’t touch anything. Roger’s looking for fingerprints, though I doubt we’ll find any. Perps watch tv and know to wear gloves.”

  “Yeah. Did you see Fluffy?”

  “No.”

  Oh, God. Had they hurt Fluffy? She was scared of strangers and usually hid when I had company. I hoped she had this time, as well.

  I followed him inside and surveyed the mess, but didn’t see Fluffy anywhere. Roger was busy dusting for prints.

  Chance kept taking photographs as he talked to me. “The way he dumped things out, whatever he was looking for must have been small.”

  I hurried into my office, more worried about my computer and records than anything else. I couldn’t care less if he’d taken my pots and pans or food from the kitchen, but my business records were my lifeline. Without them, I’d be screwed for tax information. Besides that, many of my clients called me again, so I need my records of previous work. I stared in horror at the scattered papers, pens, paperclips and software CDs on my office floor. Biting back tears, I stepped carefully through them to my desk, trying not to break anything.

  Chance followed and stopped at my office door. When I reached my desk and glanced back, I met his sympathetic gaze and swallowed back tears, then sat at my computer and resolutely faced my worst fear.

  But when I turned my desktop on, to my relief, everything came up on the screen as usual, so my computer seemed fine. I turned to the paper files the burglar had taken from my file cabinet and dumped onto the floor. Damn, this would take hours of sorting to straighten back out. Why had he done that? What had he wanted? Was this someone I knew who had a grudge against me? If so, who? I couldn’t think of anyone I’d pissed off lately. But then, I’m not the world’s politest person all the time, so maybe someone had taken offence at something? But if they were this angry, wouldn’t I have known?

  With a shrug, I gave up questioning myself and rose to check out the other rooms. Chance gave me a hug as I met him in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”

  I shrugged. “Not your fault, of course. I’m just upset after all that’s happened today.” Then another thought struck me. I chewed my lip and asked, “Do you think this has anything to do with my finding that body today?”

  Chance nodded. “Most likely. Too coincidental not to be. And I don’t believe in coincidences, do you?”

  I shook my head and moved on to check the rest of my house, still looking for my calico cat. She had to be hiding. Nothing was disturbed in my living room or bedroom. I searched each of Fluffy’s favorite hiding spots whenever a stranger is around. Trouble was, sometimes, if she was frightened, she attacked them before she hid. I’d had to lock her in my bedroom a couple of times after she did that. I knelt down and looked under my bed.

  Chance laughed. “I already checked. Did you think the burglar was hiding under there?”

  “No,” I said, pulling out Fluffy and hugging her triumphantly. “But my cat was. See?” She cuddled against me and purred, allowing me to stroke her fur. “Thank goodness she hid from the burglar and is okay.”

  I looked at Chance, who stood watching me stroke her, his sky blue eyes piercing. I’d never met anyone who seemed to see every detail without trying. “Nothing seems disturbed in here. Did he not get this far? Or did he find what he wanted in my office and then left?”

  “Probably the latter,” Chance said. He gave me a hug and Fluffy leapt from my arms and headed for the kitchen, no doubt to check her food and water bowls.

  I nodded and went back to the kitchen. My mouth was dry and I really needed a cold drink. I grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge. At least he hadn’t messed that up. Maybe because my fridge had so little in it that he didn’t think it could hide anything? I sat at my kitchen table, and handed one of the sodas to Chance. I popped the top on the can and took a long swallow.

  Chance sat and drank his, too, eyeing me. “Any idea what he’d want in your office?”

  I shrugged and swallowed more soda. “Who would care about my business?”

  “Been doing anything special lately? Like opening a bank vault?”

  I gaped at him. Was he joking? But his rugged face was serious and he was watching me intently. “I don’t do that kind of thing. Banks have a specialty company for that.”

  Chance dipped his head in disbelief. “But I’ve seen you working at the bank.”

  “Sure, on door locks or safety deposit boxes.”

  “So they could still break into the bank if they had that info.”

  I shook my head, frowning at him. Was he playing dumb with me? “I don’t keep extra keys or the info they’d need to cut them. And anyway, the banks lock everything in a timed vault when they’re not open. Getting in the building wouldn’t help them get any money. That’s why bank robbers usually rob at gunpoint when the bank is open. You should know that.”

  “Well, sure, but…”

  “No, buts. And I never keep copies of keys to get into buildings, either. They wouldn’t find those here.”

  “Maybe the perp doesn’t know that,” Chance surmised, chewing his lip in frustration. “They might think your office is a goldmine of break-in info.”

  I shrugged. “I suppose that’s possible.” I sighed and stared at the mess on my kitchen floor. “I may as well get started cleaning this all up.”

  Roger came back to the kitchen and said, “I’m done, here, Cassie. Goodnight.” He tipped his hat and went on outside.

  Chance stood and came around the table to give me a hug. “I’ll be heading out, too, Cassie. Why don’t you get some sleep and tackle this mess in the morning?”

  “Okay,” I agreed, returning his hug and goodnight kiss. Despite his warm arms, a cold chill still enveloped me.

  “Do you want to call a friend to stay with you tonight? Or go stay with someone?”

  I hesitated. But I knew Darcy would have to work the night shift at the hospital. And Ardis had little ones at her house and life was always hectic there. “No, I’ll be fine, Chance.”

  “All right. Lock up behind me.” Chance strode out to his car.

  “A lot of good locking up did,” I muttered as I threw the deadbolt. The perp had evidently picked the lock and gotten in anyway. Maybe I should take out a loan and install a decent alarm system. Nah. What did I have to protect?

  Me, my inner voice reminded me. And Fluffy. Oh, yeah. I swallowed hard, found food and water for Fluffy and headed for bed. I grabbed an extra fuzzy blue blanket from my linen closet and wrapped up in it. Fluffy soon jumped up on my bed and cuddled against my legs on top of the covers, as she usually did. But it took me a long time to fall asleep, even with my cell phone under my pillow, just in case. Every sound seemed magnified in the darkness.

  ***

  Chance went back to his office and spent hours on his computer where he had access to various official paid databases, researching every name connected to this case so far. They’d taken the dead guys prints, but in his bloated condition, he wasn’t sure how accurate the results would be. The Realty Company had given him the name of Lester and Louise Kallus as the renters and said they’d skipped out on paying two months’ rent and left no forwarding address with them. He’d checked with the post office and they also had no forwarding address.

  Chance set Lester’s name into a cloak app, in case he was an avid user of the internet. That wasn’t as useful as it claimed to be at locating anyone, since it only worked if the person used a couple of social media sites. He had no idea if Lester was
into computers or not, but it was worth a try.

  Kallus had a few hits for traffic violations, but had paid the fines and had nothing that raised a red flag. Granted, leaving no forwarding address probably meant he was skipping out on unpaid bills, including the aforementioned two month’s rent, but that didn’t mean he was likely to have killed the guy in the trunk. Being a deadbeat didn’t automatically make a guy a murderer.

  He did the same with Louise’s name, hoping she used the internet more than he apparently did. She had logged on recently, but had used an internet email address that could be accessed from anywhere in the world. He did learn one useful bit; she’d used a Minneapolis Public Library computer to check her email. She hadn’t emailed anyone with anything useful, however. But it did give him a city to start his search from. And maybe one of his friends in the Minneapolis PD could help him keep an eye out for them. He emailed a couple with the info.

  Chance closed down his computer and went home to bed. He wouldn’t learn any more tonight. He’d have to wait for the autopsy results or the guy’s DNA, and hope those would yield more info.

  ***

  In his small camper in the Interstate Park along the St. Croix River, Buddy slept fitfully. Night after night, the odd nightmares came, so real he felt he was back in the Chicago slums, once again part of a tough gang, The Bears, fighting for control of their area. Screams and curses echoed in his mind, along with the sound of pounding boots on wooden sidewalks. Knives flashed and bullets ricocheted off buildings. He clearly saw the faces of his enemies, The Lions, hatred in their eyes. Something slammed into his chest, knocking him down. Pain ripped through him, then everything went black.

  Drenched in sweat, he woke, their faces etched clearly in his memory. He swiped a trembling hand over his damp blond hair, sat up and swung his legs off the bunk. He shuddered and swallowed, looking down at his chest. He wasn’t bleeding. He hadn’t been shot. It was only a dream. The Lions weren’t here to fight. In his dreams, he’d had to fight for his life. Kill or be killed. He knew the gang would show him no mercy, so he had no choice but to do the same. He had to find them before they found him again.