Pinched, Pilfered and a Pitchfork (We're Not Dead Yet Club Book 4) Read online

  Pinched, Pilfered and a Pitchfork

  by

  Constance Barker

  Copyright 2017 Constance Barker

  All rights reserved.

  Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter One – Farms and Furniture

  It was all Ida May’s fault.

  And Hazel’s.

  But it was mostly Ida May.

  And this time we weren’t looking for it, I swear.

  We just happened to be in the right place at the right time – that’s all.

  Or is it the wrong place at the right time…?

  Or the right place at the…

  I don’t suppose it matters really.

  It all began with that silly furniture. Why we let Ida May convince the Senior Center to have it, I’ll never know. She’d been eying it up ever since they had finally gotten round to sifting through all the furniture that Aunt Ruby had left them – that’s why it was Ida’s fault – and no matter how hard we tried we just couldn’t convince her to drop it.

  “It’s a memento,” she’d say, staring down at the writing desk proudly. “A memory of an elegantly-solved case.”

  It wasn’t really that at all. She just liked the look of it. The fact that the very same writing desk was the instrument we’d used to ensnare Thomas Landsborough in our very first case was incidental to her. Well, sort of incidental. I suppose it was Thomas who mentioned that it was made by the same craftsmen that made the Resolute desk – and I guess we can sort of blame him for mentioning that it was worth quite a lot of money in the first place. So – in that respect – I guess Ida May was right. It was a memento of the case…

  It didn’t take long for the managers at the Senior Center to yield – a testament to Ida May’s forceful personality and complete inability to take “no” for an answer. Within a few months of the clear out, Ida May had the desk sitting proudly in her front room, taking up almost as much of the space as the couch, where she would “casually” refer to it whenever visitors came around…

  It was then she got the bug.

  It’s the sort of behavior we’d expect from Hazel but not from Ida May.

  She became obsessed. I mean overwhelmingly obsessed.

  With every case we solved, she needed some sort of furniture memento. From the Body In The Well case she had the writing desk. From the Poisoned Groomsman Affair, she liberated the chair Ryan had died on. Even the small, rather insignificant, and frankly tedious, Case of Mr Sheppherd’s Lost Paintbrush, she managed to pinch one of his easel’s…

  He’s still confused about that one.

  From that point onwards it started to get ridiculous – the furniture wasn’t even to do with the cases anymore, they were just items that she decided to acquire as and when a case was completed…

  If I’m brutally honest, you can’t even call them cases.

  Like there was the time when Hazel lost her spare set of spectacles. Ida May found them lodged behind the cushion in the game room and decided to reward herself with a wingback armchair. Or the time when I momentarily forgot my shopping list. After we’d finished hunting through the aisles for my list to no success, Ida May decided the case needed to be celebrated with a mahogany bedside cabinet.

  I wouldn’t have minded so much, but I still didn’t buy the right groceries.

  In the space of a few months, Ida May’s home had turned from a comparatively upmarket and stylish abode to a dumping ground for furniture from all over the state. I’m surprised her upper arm strength isn’t ten times greater for all the climbing over loose bits of wood she has to do.

  It was for that same reason – on one gloriously warm summer afternoon – we were sitting in Percy's van, driving down a bumpy dirt road hard into Amish country. I hadn’t quite caught what the purpose of our visit was that day, but from what I could gather there had been a small mouse in Ida May’s garden that needed to disposed of before the cat got it.

  “We need a case,” I sighed, turning to Hazel who beamed excitedly out at the passing country.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she replied. “This seems fun to me.” She leaned forward towards the front passenger seat and tapped Ida May on the shoulder. “Hey, it’s too bad that nice Landsborough boy couldn’t come along.”

  Ida May narrowed her eyes at her. “Thomas Landsborough?”

  Hazel nodded happily. “He was in to his antiquities. He might have been a useful addition to our team.”

  Ida May stared at her silently for a moment. “Hazel, Thomas Landsborough was a killer.”

  “Was he?”

  I laughed. “Hazel, you were the one who proved he did it.”

  Hazel thought for a moment and then let out a little laugh. “Of course, I did. But does that mean he can’t come to help us pick out some good furniture. I mean he did it for you before, Ida May, do you remember?”

  “I don’t think they’d let him out of prison for that, Hazel,” I explained.

  “Besides,” chipped in Ida May. “I doubt he’d be particularly happy with us…”

  “No,” Hazel mused. “I suppose not…”

  Her voice trailed away as she stared out at the countryside that sped by. She seemed to be thinking hard – she was never as quick as when we had a case on. It’s almost as though the thrill of the chase was what sparked her intelligence and gave her life and vigor. But the long days that passed without incident just seemed to suck the life out of her.

  I half-wondered whether that’s why Ida May kept up this pretense of buying furniture as a reward for a case well done. Maybe she was hoping she could con Hazel’s brain into ticking over…

  I didn’t think it was working.

  From the driver’s seat, Percy sighed with irritation. He hadn’t exactly been a willing accomplice in our journey into Amish country but – well, as I said, Ida May can be a very forceful personality when she wants to be.

  Poor Percy hadn’t even been our first choice of chauffeur. Ida May had originally wanted to borrow Cecil. Unfortunately for Ida May, Cecil still hadn’t quite gotten over being labeled as a vicious best man poisoner by her and Ida May was too proud to give him a proper apology for the mistake. So, she had to settle for Percy…

  Although she very nearly lost that ride as well...

  “A pickup, Percy?” she’d cried out, fighting back the urge to burst into laughter. “Isn’t that a bit… well… butch for you?”

  Needless to say, Percy had not been impressed. And, now that we were deep into Amish country, there was a distinct look of unease and tension rippling through his body.

  “Calm it, Butch,” Ida May said, patting his tense arm. “This is Amish country, not Indian…”

  “I’m fine,” Percy growled back, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Where is it exactly we are going to anyway?”

  Ida May withdrew her hand, giving a self-satisfied smile that she knew Percy, with his eyes fixed firmly on the road, had no way of seeing. “A nice little store down the road aways. They sell Amish-made furniture there.”

  “And there’s a fabric store nearby that sells the most amazing quilts,” I added, leaning forward to speak into Percy’s ear. “It’s so relaxing around here…”

  “Oh yes…” Hazel was bac
k with us. “You’ll love it, Percy. I get my chickens from a farm near here. It’s an absolutely divine piece of land…” She paused for a moment, her eyes lighting up as an idea formed in her mind. “Hey, maybe we could get a tour of a working farm. Wouldn’t that be a delight?”

  In that instant she burst into an unenviable bout of laughter. She cackled loudly and whooped as she patted her hands excitedly on the back of Percy’s seat, before turning her excitable eyes back to the world outside

  Percy’s face dropped. I don’t think he agreed.

  Chapter Two – A Case for the We’re Not Dead Yet Club

  “I suppose it’s nice to be able to get away once in a while…”

  Hazel stared thoughtfully through the glass of the display window, pondering a beautiful red, white and yellow quilt that had been laid there. She tilted her head to one side, enjoying the fabulous blend of colors, before turning back to the rest of us and breathing in deeply.

  Beside me, Ida May tapped her foot with irritation, her eyes darting down the street to where a series of elegantly carved footstools marked the entrance to the furniture shop. She’d agreed that we would stop by the quilt shops first – after all, they were the first shops we’d come to – but now that Hazel was taking her time with moving on, I began to wonder how much more anticipation Ida May’s heart could take.

  Hazel gazed longingly back at the quilt, her mouth dropping open slightly and a content sigh humming from her lips.

  “Do you think I should take up quilt-making?”

  “No,” Ida May replied bluntly, prompting a stern look from me and a curious look from Hazel.

  “Oh, why not?”

  I stepped forward and rubbed her arm softly. “You have a hobby, Hazel. You are an outstanding detective, isn’t she, Ida May?”

  “Outstanding…”

  Ida May’s heart wasn’t in it.

  “You have an eye for detail and a view of the world that is just perfect for it. Doesn’t she?”

  “Perfect,” Ida May muttered. “Can we go now?”

  Hazel gazed back at the quilt. There was something troubling her, I could see it in her eyes. She was like a caged animal yearning to break out and be free. I suppose that’s what she was when she had a case – a free animal…

  “But…” she muttered, closing her mouth suddenly, thinking and then starting again. “But I could do both, couldn’t I?”

  “I suppose so…”

  “No.”

  Hazel’s eyes swooped on to Ida May. “And why not, Ida May?”

  “For one thing, being a detective is your hobby and – if I know nothing else about you Hazel – I know you are only capable of one hobby at a time. And second, you tried quilting three years ago. It didn’t work out so well.”

  A small smiled dawned on Hazel’s face. “Oh, yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes as her memory engaged. “I did, didn’t I? Why did I stop again?”

  A flicker of anger flashed across Ida May’s face. “Because you sewed your quilt to my Armani coat!”

  Hazel started giggling. “Oh, yes. I remember.”

  “Now can we go?”

  The furniture shop wasn’t much unlike Ida May’s front room. It wasn’t particularly big but seemed to be packed with so much furniture that – at times – it was difficult to tell where one piece finished and another began. Ida May bounded in like a kid in a sweet shop, swooping past the similar looking simple chairs and heading straight for a wonderfully dark and twisting rocking chair. With a skip and a flick, she sat herself down and instantly began rocking back and forth, breathing deeply as she savored the moment.

  In a second, she was up again and moving rapidly towards the back of the shop stopping at a small table, humming for a moment, and then moving on. As Percy, Hazel and I loitered by the main desk next to a suspiciously leaning pile of furniture, a small, middle-aged woman with dark hair and freckles, appeared out of a side room and made her way quickly towards us. Another lady, this one probably similar in age to us, shuffled forward and gazed at us through her overly thick glasses as she stopped alongside the first.

  “Good afternoon…”

  It was the first lady who’d spoken, but I don’t think Percy had even noticed their arrival. As he heard her voice, he leapt a few inches up into the air, let out a small squeal of surprise and span around so quickly that his coat got caught on the pile and nearly toppled the whole thing over.

  “Oh my,” he called out. “I’m dreadfully sorry.”

  “That’s quite alright,” the first lady said, smiling at him. “It happens.” She turned to the rest of us and gestured to the rest of the shop. “Welcome to my store. My name is Susan and this is my assistant Betty…”

  Betty smiled, her eyes staring at Hazel in fascination – although I can’t readily tell you what she found so entrancing about her.

  Susan’s nose twitched a little. “If there is anything I can do to help you at all…”

  “I’ll have the rocking chair!”

  Ida May’s voice sounded as though it was coming out from underneath a table that had been piled high with various similar looking chairs. I could hear the sound of shuffling before suddenly and, considering I was already looking in the right direction, quite unexpectedly, Ida May emerged from underneath the table, beaming with such glee that anyone would’ve thought she’d just won the lottery. As she scrambled to her feet, she brushed herself down before pointing back at the rocking chair with such enthusiasm that I thought she might die with excitement.

  “That one,” she cried out. “It’s perfect.”

  “Ah,” Susan replied, her smile broadening slightly. “An excellent choice madam…”

  Susan and Ida May made their way back through the shop to examine the chair. I was about to turn to Hazel but discovered, to my utter bemusement that she wasn’t behind me anymore. After a few seconds searching, my eyes fell on her at the far side of the shop where she stood with Betty, shuffling a deck of cards. They seemed to stare intently down at the cards for a moment before Hazel invited the assistant to take one and then, after a moment of muttering they both called out, “Four of diamonds,” before bursting into such an infectious laughter that even Percy joined in.

  “Someone’s made a new friend?” I muttered, drawing closer to him.

  “Not jealous are you, Clara?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m just glad to see her happy…”

  “… And of course we can help you load it into your truck if you’d like?”

  Ida May and Susan had returned.

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” Ida May replied, turning cheekily towards Percy. “My man servant will do all the heavy lifting.”

  For a moment, Percy didn’t seem to know whether he should be offended or flattered. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, come on, Butch,” Ida May replied, punching him playfully on the arm. “You wouldn’t leave a girl to do all the heavy lifting, would ya?”

  She turned to me and gave a sly wink.

  Of course, Percy didn’t have a hope of refusing and, after a little bit of careful maneuvering, he finally managed to get the armchair out of the shop in one piece and disappeared off to drop it in his van.

  Ida May turned back towards Susan, beaming wildly as she handed over some notes.

  “I know exactly where I’m going to put it,” Ida May said excitedly.

  “Where?” Hazel was back with her friend. “On the pile to the left or the pile to the right?”

  There was a moment’s pause before Hazel and Betty burst out laughing, leaning up against each other as if they were long lost friends. Ida May was not amused.

  “How droll,” she remarked, before smiling back at Susan. “You must forgive my friend. We never take her out in polite company…”

  Susan chuckled. “That’s alright,” she said. “Laughter is the cure for all ailments, so they say…” Her smile faded a little. “Funny about that rocking chair though…”

  “Funny?” Ida May a
sked. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Oh, nothing wrong. Heavens, no. It’s just a little strange, that’s all…”

  “Strange?” I asked, stepping forward. “How?”

  We were all listening intently now, our attention all focused solely on Susan who seemed to be rocking back and forth on her heels as she raised her hand to her mouth and chewed on her fingernails.

  “You’d think I was crazy…”

  “You’d be in safe company, my dear,” Ida May replied. “What’s troubling you?”

  “Well…” Susan’s eyes darted towards the door behind us. “It’s just that chair. I swear I’ve bought three more exactly like it in the past few weeks. One each week. The inventory says I should have four but that’s the only one I can find. It’s almost like…” She hesitated. “It’s almost like they’ve vanished into thin air…”

  Her voice hung in the air around us, seeming to swoop here and there before finally vanishing itself. A blast of cool air rolled in through the open door and a chill went down each of our backs. Above our heads, I thought I heard a floorboard creak and I began to feel the distinct unearthly presence of an anonymous figure standing behind me…

  I slowly turned around, my heart beating faster in my chest…

  Racing…

  Roaring…

  The sight of Percy, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily nearly gave me a heart attack.

  “Everything alright?” he asked between breaths.

  I didn’t answer him. Instead I turned back towards Susan and saw in her eyes the concern of a deeply worried soul.

  “It’s not just the rocking chair either,” she continued. “There’s been lots of items that have gone missing. It’s like this store just makes them disappear – like they never really existed in the first place…”

  I turned to Ida May. Her eyes were wide with excitement – the thrill of the chase was coursing through her blood… That and the promise of another piece of furniture at the end of it…

  I turned back in the opposite direction and locked eyes with Hazel. In those eyes I saw the chance to give my friend some of her vitality back again – the chance to give the caged beast a chance to be let lose once again. This was the case we’d been hoping for…