Ghost Cat of Ocean Cove by Mollie Hunt

Author:Mollie Hunt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie
Published: 2022-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The Keepers of Soji

Two Little Old Ladies Antiques and Collectibles was housed in a tiny building across from Linder Square Park, the brick façade almost completely obscured by a giant oak. The gnarled old tree was probably as ancient as some of the antiques in the shop, but in spite of its age, its glossy green foliage was full and healthy. Hanging from the lower branches were paper streamers and origami birds. Propped against its massive trunk was an equally massive sign that read, OPEN HOUSE TODAY, THREE P.M. ALL ARE WELCOME! When Vera and Camelia arrived at two-fifty, there was already a small group waiting for their hostess to open her doors.

“Dovie likes to put on a good show,” Vera said aside, adjusting her walker for the wait. She had exchanged her signature housedress for a day dress of the same dimensions but of a plain pink color in a more formal fabric.

“Show?” Camelia replied. “I thought it was an open house.”

Vera patted her arm. “Just wait. You’ll see.”

The pair joined the others under the tree, and Vera greeted a few of the crowd. She waved to her neighbor and helper Nao, whose husband was in deep conversation with Mr. Brown about the coming football lineup. Mrs. Brown looked bored, and the boy and girl—Hunter and Yui—were busy with their phones, just as they had been at Ellery’s soiree. Every so often Yui would sneak a peek at Hunter and vice versa, telling Camelia they might be more than just texting buddies.

At the dot of three, the door clicked open and out came Lacy, clad in a forties’ Pendleton wool walking suit and a tam o’shanter hat. Pulling the door wide, she beckoned the customers inside. The gathering had swelled in the last five minutes, and a good amount of friendly jostling ensued as everyone pushed through.

Camelia took one step into the shop and stopped dead. The place seemed far bigger on the inside than it had appeared out front. From where she stood, aisles ran into shadowy infinity, dividing and reconnecting as if by whim. From gargantuan chests and dressers to glass cases filled with tiny porcelains, every inch was jam-packed with the old, the precious, and the odd. Camelia had visited many an antique store in her time, but this one outdid them all.

Someone bumped into her then pressed by with a perfunctory sorry. She felt a hand on her arm. “Amazing, isn’t it? But you need to move out of the doorway, dear. Not everyone is as polite as Mrs. Kaye there.”

Camelia allowed Vera to draw her into a side aisle, then followed as the woman squeaked along toward the back of the shop. Vera seemed to know where she was going and Camelia trailed along without comment. Making a sharp turn at a seven-foot-tall cherub, the sort one might find adorning a movie theater back in the roaring twenties, then another between a set of wooden pillars, Vera rolled to a stop. As if by magic, there ahead of them was Dovie herself.

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