“I don’t think Iris even went through this. You know, sometimes, she would come back on a Saturday afternoon with her car full and just fill up her spare room. I wonder how many of her treasures she never even looked at again,” Bunny mused.
“No wonder her kids just wanted to have a big sale to clean it all out.” Sam reached into the trunk and carefully pulled out an old 45 record. “I hear the place was packed full.”
“It was.” Andie remembered having to pick her way through the piles of stuff at the sale.
Bunny pulled out a set of old linens, beautifully embroidered but showing signs of age. “Oh! Look at these!” Bunny exclaimed,holding the linens up to the light. “They’re exquisite, but they have a D embroidered on them. That can’t be from the Perkins family.”
“What was Iris’s maiden name?” Sam asked.
“Brown,” Bunny replied without even looking up from the trunk. “But that’s a good thought. It could be one of the related families. That should be easy to find out in the town records at the library.”
Sam agreed. “And these old newspapers might have some clues.” He pulled out a stack of yellowed papers dated from fifty-five years ago. “We can look through town records or old newspapers to find a family with a D in their name.”
“And these bulletins from St. Mary’s church. Whoever had this trunk must have belonged to the congregation,” Bunny added.
As Bunny and Sam continued to sift through the trunk, their hands landed on a variety of items that instantly transported them back to their own childhoods. Sam pulled out a View-Master, complete with scenic reels.
“I had one of these!” he exclaimed, peering through it for a moment. “Hey, these are antiques?”
Bunny laughed as she examined an old rotary-dial phone, lifting it as if she was going to make a call. “I guess that makes you an antique, too, Sam.”
Dooley seemed to catch the jest, letting out an excited bark as if he understood the humor.
The room filled with laughter, which echoed warmly through the store.
“Ah, well, if I’m an antique, I’m a well-preserved one,” Sam joked, giving Bunny a playful nudge.
As Bunny carefully folded the old linens back into the trunk, Sam neatly stacked the yellowed newspapers on top.
“So, we’ll start by looking through the Perkins family tree to see if there is a branch whose last name begins with D,” Sam said, outlining their plan. “And if that doesn’t pan out, we’ll start in on the town files to look for families whose last name begins with a D.”
“Right,” Bunny confirmed. “Then we should probably speak with some of the older residents. They might remember something useful. Olga, for instance, seems to have the memory of an elephant.”
“And after that, if we come up with any potential families, we could dig a little deeper. Maybe look into estate sales or yard sales around that time,” Sam added, latching the trunk closed.
“Those are great ideas. What can I help with?” Andie asked.
Bunny and Sam exchanged a glance.
“You just leave it to us, dear. We have a process, and you’re busy here at the shop anyway.” Bunny glanced at Sam. “What do you say we hit the library?”
Sam stood and stretched. “Great idea. I always say there’s no time like the present to get started on an investigation.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Maxi carefully adjusted the last piece of paper covering the gallery windows. Peeking through a tiny gap, she caught sight of the Winter Prelude festivities happening outside. Stores were setting up tables brimming with holiday merchandise, and twinkling lights adorned windows and lampposts. The cheerful ambiance made her stomach churn with nervous anticipation; she still hadn’t found the perfect artist for her gallery showing.
Her gaze shifted to the bright sign she had put up outside: “Grand Reveal Saturday!” Passersby stopped to read it, their curiosity evident as they tried to look through the covered windows. Maxi felt a mix of excitement and sheer panic. Time was running out, and she still had no art to reveal. She did, however, have some prospects, and one of them, Una Thomas, was supposed to be here any minute. Maxi had never heard of the woman, but she’d answered an ad Maxi had put up at the artists’ café, and Maxi was desperate enough to talk to anyone.
Just then, the door swung open, and a woman walked in, looking around in confusion. She spotted Maxi and smiled.
“Hi, I’m Una,” she said. She pulled a wheeled suitcase behind her. “Ready to have your mind blown?”
“Absolutely,” Maxi said, eager but also apprehensive. “What do you have for us?”
Una unzipped her suitcase and pulled out what looked like a Christmas wreath, but upon closer inspection, Maxi noticed it was made entirely of mini voodoo dolls adorned with holiday hats and scarves. Each was carefully pinned with tiny mistletoe leaves and holly berries.
“It’s a cross-cultural celebration,” Una explained, beaming. “Louisiana voodoo meets holiday cheer!”
