One Woman's Junk by JB Lynn

Author:JB Lynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

25

After the detective left the store, Rena looked at Beatrice and asked, “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

Bea shrugged. What she needed was answers, and she doubted the young girl had them.

Rena glanced around the store to make sure they were alone, and then scuffed the floor with her shoe, saying, “Letty let me get my mail here.”

Beatrice nodded, noticing that the girl’s sneaker had a hole near the big toe.

Remembering what had been said about a news report, she guessed, “You’re homeless?”

The girl looked away and jerked her chin in the affirmative.

“Do you know where Letty kept the mail?” Beatrice asked.

Rena shook her head.

She gestured at herself, injuries and all. “I haven’t been up to the living quarters. It might be up there. If you can wait a couple of minutes, I’m sure one of my sisters will be back and they can check for you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Beatrice wondered why the girl was homeless and felt a twinge, knowing that because of her own choices in life she’d come pretty close to that herself.

“I found this.” Rena reached into her backpack and pulled something out. She stepped closer to Beatrice and held it so that she could see.

Beatrice reached out to take it from her. Their fingers brushed and for a split second Beatrice saw a vision that upset her. A blonde woman with an old-fashioned beehive hairdo, red-faced and furious, screaming.

As soon as her contact with Rena was broken, the vision dissipated, but the throbbing pain in her head was back.

Shaken, she focused on the object in her hand, rather than look at the girl. It was a toy car.

“Like I told you,” Rena said. “Letty used to just pay me for things if they were of any value.”

“Sure,” Beatrice said. “We can put this up for sale in the store. I just have to get the paperwork.” She began to roll her chair toward where the paperwork was stored.

“You don’t understand,” Ren said, a note of desperation weaving through her tone. “Letty used to give me the money straight out, and then she’d try to sell it.”

Beatrice considered that for a moment. No doubt her godmother, sensing the young girl’s precarious position in life, had wanted to do what she could to help her out.

“Maybe three dollars?” Rena suggested.

Beatrice looked down at the car and examined it for a moment. “No.”

She looked up to see that the girl’s face had fallen.

“It’s worth more than you think,” Beatrice hurried to explain. “It’s a collectable. I could probably sell it in the shop for about fifty dollars, and online for even more. So how about I give you twenty for it?”

Rena looked up, surprised. “Really?”

Beatrice nodded. “But only if you find yourself a pair of shoes over in that basket.” She pointed to the basket of shoes in the rear of the shop she’d gone through herself yesterday.

“I don’t need new shoes,” Rena said defensively.

“I don’t think you understood,” Beatrice said. “I meant, take the shoes in addition to the money.

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