Loose Lips (11 page)

Behind me, a door creaked. I stood and spun
like a guilty child, already stuttering out excuses before my feet
had quit moving.

Darrell Deere peered out the door, looking
side to side and smiling, until he saw me. Then he muttered to
himself and tried to hop back inside, but I was faster than he was.
I leaped forward, stuttering out excuses as quickly as I could. I’d
gotten so far as explaining that I was sure Peter could buff out
any damage when I noticed Darrell’s outfit.

Boxers, not briefs, a man’s undershirt of
the wife–beater variety and a straw cowboy hat.

Darrell, it seemed, had pulled out his
summer wear.

“Lucy.”

He dropped my name like a bomb, cutting off
what was left of my barrage.

I returned the favor. “Darrell.” Then I
remembered that I needed something from him, hopefully more than
one something. I smiled and tried not to notice his lack of
clothing.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced. I was at the
B&B. Checking on it as a place for my parents to stay this
summer. They’re coming to visit all the way from Missouri, and
while I love my family, I would just as soon not have them staying
at my house...” I rambled on some more until I noticed his eyes had
started to cross and his expression had dimmed. Realizing I was
about to lose him, I rushed my conversation forward. “Anyway, I was
getting ready to leave and I saw Rachel. You probably know her.
She’s one of the Caffeine Cartel Cuties. She was coming down this
path and I realized it must lead between the bed and breakfast and
your family’s home. And, well, I just couldn’t resist stopping by
to...” I stumbled at this. What was an acceptable reason for
“stopping by” aka snooping through locked windows? I decided to go
for half–truth. I hadn’t realized Darrell and his siblings had
worked out their differences and he was now living in the mansion,
which he obviously was, but he didn’t need to know that.

“...to check with you on borrowing something
of your grandmother’s for my window display. I told you about that,
remember? That night in the parking lot, next to the Caffeine
Cartel?”

Darrell who had been creeping backward a
quarter inch or so a minute, until he was almost entirely hidden
inside the dark house, flung the door open fully. “That! I told you
I’d do it. No need to keep—” He glanced around again, this time at
the trees and lawn surrounding the house, as if he expected someone
to pop out of the bushes and grab us.

I swallowed and tried to keep my expression
straight. Darrell was more than a few years older than me, but I
hadn’t thought he was that much older. Certainly not in the
dementia/people–are–after–me range. But then again, the fighting
with his siblings had to have been rough. Maybe the stress had
finally gotten to him.

Muttering some more, he stepped back and
motioned me inside.

Careful not to show my thoughts, I felt my
pocket to make sure my cell was still tucked securely inside and
followed him.

o0o

The Deere Mansion was everything I’d dreamed
it would be. Well, if my dreams were drafted while watching an
episode of Scooby Doo.

All of the furniture was covered with white
sheets and drop cloths. The air was thick with dust, and every
light either flickered or was so dim I could barely make out
Darrell’s pale form as he moved around the living room, muttering
and clinking together what turned out to be a lead glass whiskey
decanter and a matching glass.

The glass was for him. He didn’t offer me
anything, not even a Diet Pepsi, which would have been a nice way
to help wash the dust I was inhaling down my throat.

“So,” I asked. “How long have you been
living here?”

He glared at me and slammed back his drink.
Then he refilled his glass and pointed at me. “Walk around. Tell me
what it will take, but don’t be greedy. I have my limits.”

I thought about assuring him that I most
certainly wouldn’t be greedy and that I really didn’t want to take
anything that either wasn’t insured or that I couldn’t afford to
buy in case of damage, but he was close enough to me that I could
see the crazy gleam in his eye. I decided to let that bit pass.

I wandered around, tentative at first, but
soon curiosity and my passion for all things to do with Montana
history stomped down any shade of nerves.

The painting that I’d wondered about was in
the living room and even better, it wasn’t hanging over the
fireplace or anywhere at all. Instead, it was already partially
crated, as if ready to be toted off to my shop.

Smiling, I left the living room and wandered
around until I found what had to have at one point been Darrell’s
mother’s dressing room and, I guessed, before that, Ruby’s. There
was a folding silk screen with a red velvet bench in front of it.
There was also a dressing table with three mirrors, a red velvet
covered chair, and a Moroccan tray table with some perfume bottles.
The bottles were mainly from the mid–twentieth century, but one
looked like it might date to Ruby’s time. I noted it and turned to
leave.

Darrell was standing in the door, still
glaring. He had though dug up some pants and a shirt. Grateful for
that, I brushed past him.

The door to what turned out to be a bedroom
stood ajar. As I started to push it open, Darrell stopped me. “What
is it you’re looking for anyway?”

I thought I’d already been pretty clear on
what I needed, but in his surly mood perhaps his memory wasn’t all
it could be, or maybe senility was setting in. I told him my story
again, adding this time that I would love to have the painting.

He frowned. “My family would notice if it
went missing. What about cash? That’s cleaner.” He pulled a roll of
bills out of his pocket.

Confused and a little embarrassed, I pushed
his hand away. “You couldn’t just tell them that you loaned it to
me? It’s insured, isn’t it? I mean I would take good care of it and
do everything in my power to keep anyone from even looking at it
except from behind my front window, but you know... just in case. I
could even take it for just that day. The day of the judging, I
mean.”

He frowned. “You just want to borrow
it?”

I nodded. “It and maybe a few other things.
Just enough to put together a display.”

Looking as untrusting as malamute in an
empty bathtub, he pulled the bedroom door shut and led me into what
turned out to be a library, complete with floor to ceiling
bookshelves and a plush if dusty Oriental rug. And stacked on those
shelves and rug and chairs and every other semi–flat surface I
could see? A museum’s worth of Deere memorabilia.

I spun slowly, taking in everything from
saddles to dresses to kitchen wares to top hats.

“Oh, my...” I couldn’t say more. I had died
and landed in antique dealer heaven. For a moment, I lost all sense
of place and time. I moved around the room, brushing my fingers
over one thing and then another, murmuring sweet nothings to copper
tea kettles and Flow Blue china, assuring a set of silver salt
shakers that I would remember them always, and crying a bit as I
passed by a box of toys with a teddy bear that had to have been an
original Steiff. They were all special and wonderful, but not the
personal–to–Ruby–Deere items that I needed for my display.

For that, I went to a box of paper goods,
which included letters, pictures and what looked like a diary, two
dresses already displayed on dressmaker’s dummies and the top hat
which I had to guess had belonged to Ruby’s husband, Garrison
Deere, himself.

“Is that enough?” Darrell asked, looking
bored.

Unable to speak, I just nodded.

He waved his hand. “Fine. I’ll have this...”
He motioned to the things I’d selected. “delivered to your store
tomorrow, and the painting. As long as you know you can’t keep it.”
He pinned me with a stare.

I nodded again.

After that, he bum rushed me to the door,
with his hand on my elbow and his bare feet making slapping sounds
against the hard wood floor.

Once there, he pushed me back out onto the
porch. “So we’re clear. We’re good, right? No more requests, and
this is just between you and me.”

His gaze was intense and steady. I hated to
admit that I really wasn’t clear. That I had no idea what exactly
was supposed to be just between us.

I nodded.

Apparently satisfied, he grunted and shut
the door in my face.

The next day I arrived at the shop to find a
message from Darrell. He was having the more expensive items
delivered to Dusty Deals. He would box up the small and less
valuable items and leave them hidden in a shed at the back of the
property. He suggested I get them soon before some busybody came by
and found them.

I chose not to believe the last was a slam
at me. Darrell didn’t know that I’d been at the mansion to snoop.
He thought I’d come with the express belief that he would be
there.

Still, I took his advice, leaving Kiska at
the shop and driving back to the mansion. This time, I pulled into
the alley that ran behind the B&B and the mansion. After
opening up the back tailgate, I went in search of my goods.

They were easy to find and not too heavy.
There were two boxes though. Afraid of dropping something, I took
just one and headed back to my Jeep.

As I neared the Jeep, I noticed a woman
walking a German shepherd approaching. I immediately shoved the box
into the back of my rig and prepared to properly bond with a fellow
dog lover.

It wasn’t until the pair were less than six
feet away that I realized the woman was Laura, of cheese–loving
fame.

Today she was wearing old sweats with holes
in the knees and a sweatshirt that looked like it had been victim
to the Flashdance craze of the 80’s. Since that was the decade of
my birth, I hadn’t lived it firsthand, but my mother’d had a few
similar shirts that she’d worn with embarrassing regularity when
dropping me off at school.

Laura didn’t strike me as being anywhere
near my mother’s age, but then again a ripped up sweatshirt didn’t
really depend on limits of time and style, did it? It was ugly when
my mother wore it, and it was ugly now.

I smiled and acted like I didn’t notice.

“Do you live around here?” I asked,
wondering just how much milk and cheese you had to sell to own a
place near the Deere mansion.

She shook her head. “No, I’m just... Abi...”
She indicated the dog. “Has taken a dislike to a tree on our
street. She barks at it non–stop every time we go by. So I put her
in the car, drive a bit and then we walk. Today we wound up
here.”

I noticed she had a camera hanging from her
neck.

“You take pictures too?”

I needed someone to take new pictures of the
Cuties for their website. Not that Laura would be the right fit,
considering I’d first seen her pounding on car windows in their
lot.

She shrugged. “It’s a hobby.”

Still pondering the possibility of having
her take the Cuties’ photos, it took me a minute to reply, and she
beat me to it, asking a question of her own.

“What about you?” She peered into the Jeep
at the box I’d just placed there.

“Oh. I...” Remembering Darrell’s warning, I
hesitated. He’d said this was just between him and me, but I
couldn’t very well display the items he was loaning me without
telling people I had his permission. Unless he wanted me to tell
people I owned them, but nobody was going to believe the Deeres had
sold the painting of Ruby to me. I shook my head, trying to dispel
my confusion. It didn’t help.

Abi stepped forward to sniff me. Immediately
my guard dropped. I stroked her under the chin and replied, “I’m
picking up some things for the downtown association’s window
display contest.”

“Really? From whom?”

Abi’s nose nuzzled my leg, reminding me that
I’d dropped cheese Danish on my shorts at breakfast.

“The Deeres.” It was out before I realized
it. I bit my lip, hoping I hadn’t messed up.

“Really? From the mansion? I’ve never been
inside, but it’s gorgeous on the outside.”

The Deere mansion wasn’t visible from the
street. Making me think I wasn’t the only one who was guilty of a
little snooping. I was liking Laura more and more.

I nodded. “I hadn’t been until
yesterday.”

“Really? So you met with one of the family?
Was anyone else there?”

Realizing I was getting into dangerous
territory, I bent down and stared into Abi’s chocolate brown eyes.
“Speaking of gorgeous, how long have you had her?”

“Who? Abi?” Seeing me squatting next to her
dog, Laura laughed. “My husband got her. She’s a rescue, and she’s
supposed to be his, but he doesn’t take her anywhere.”

We both frowned at that.

I ran my fingers over the top of Abi’s head.
“Poor baby.”

“He’s a dick,” Laura announced with zero
shame.

Not wanting to say I agreed, but thinking
anyone who didn’t want to spend time with a sweet creature like Abi
couldn’t be all that great of a catch, I murmured something to the
dog and then made myself busy arranging my first box more securely
in the back of the Jeep.

Laura stood by, watching me and waiting. Her
attention was so intense, it felt awkward to walk away.

“Uh. I went by the kiosk.”

She raised two questioning brows.

I shook my head. “I didn’t really learn
anything. I didn’t see any signs of...” I flapped my shirt.
“But...”

She seemed accepting of my uncertainty. “But
there’s something not right.”

I nodded and, feeling as if I’d let her
down, added, “I’m not done. I’m working on something for them, or
my employee is.”

Her brows raised again.

I hurried to explain. “Just a website or
talk of one. I don’t really plan on helping...” Realizing that
getting Betty to do a website for the Cuties was helping them to
succeed, when my original goal had been the opposite, I stuttered
out something incoherent. Then, feeling myself flush, changed the
subject. “There’s one more box. I guess I’ll go get it.”