Marigolds and Murder (Port Danby Cozy Mystery Book 1) by London Lovett

Author:London Lovett [Lovett, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

After a busy morning organizing things for the store opening, my back was tired and my stomach was empty. My unsettling start to the day, getting trapped in a dark house, had left me too frazzled to make a lunch. I was regretting that now. I was also feeling a little lonely without Kingston gurgling and chirruping from his perch. I decided to walk across the street and see what Lola had planned for lunch.

I locked up. The sidewalks had quieted down after the morning rush of neighbors and shop owners lamenting the sad news about Beverly. I hadn't seen Lola for a day. I knew her parents had shipped a large crate from Italy, and she had been busy cataloguing and pricing the newly arrived antiques. I'd asked Lola once why she didn't sometimes travel with her parents. It sure sounded exciting to me to traipse around the world looking for long lost treasures of history. Lola had responded with a short, terse laugh and muttered something about how exciting and her parents didn't go well together. I'd left it at that. It wasn't as if I spent much time with my own parents anymore. (Mental note—call Mom.)

Lola had decided to change out the string of jingle bells on the door for one of the goat bells. She said she liked how confident the bell sounded when the door opened.

"Hello," I called out and was answered back with a cuss word.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch." Lola popped up from behind a tall crate wearing an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt and sucking her fingertip.

"Uh oh, did I cause that?" I walked to her counter and pulled a tissue from the box.

She wrapped the tissue around her finger. "No, it was the darn staple on the crate." She gave the wooden crate a light kick. She waved her hand at the piles of sawdust on the floor. "Apparently my parents found the most remote section of Italy where they have not heard of bubble wrap and cardboard."

I walked over to the items she had pulled from the crate. An old iron with a grate for hot coals was sitting next to a sizeable lighter that was shaped like a suit of armor. The fuse was on the top of the helmet. Sitting beside the prettiest pair of green enamel candlesticks was an oil lamp with a handle and a long spout. It was heavily engraved with a pattern. I picked the lamp up and gave it a rub. "Do you think there's a genie inside?"

"Already tried. It's just a lamp. But now I'm going to have to write a sign for it that says ‘please don't rub the lamp’."

I rested my hand on the top of a butter churn. The handle of the churn had been worn smooth from time and use. "I'll bet a lot of butter has been made in this thing."

"Speaking of butter—are you hungry?"

I smiled. "That was my main purpose for walking over here." I pointed at her tissue covered finger.

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