The room became cooler, and then the stillness began to soften as a faint whisper of rose-scented breeze brushed her cheek.
“What?” she whispered. “What is it? What can I do?”
She looked around, but there was nothing to direct her. Then, as though the spirit gave one last sigh and succumbed to the effort its activity had caused, the breeze disappeared and everything stilled once again.
Fiona remained frozen for a moment, but nothing else happened to stir the air. The lights remained dark and the shop silent. The heavy stillness was punctuated only by the sounds of slamming car doors and voices from out on the street.
She turned toward the back of the shop where the circuit breaker was and took two steps before she tripped went flying, landing in a heap on the hardwood floor.
Even as she swore in an extremely specific manner, she reached out to touch what had tripped her, and felt something solid protruding from the bottom of the mammoth desk.
It was too dark in that small bend of the aisle to see what it was—but one thing was certain:it hadn’t been there when she walked by moments earlier.
A prickle danced up her spine. Ghosts couldn’t actuallymovethings, could they?
Suddenly freezing, she looked around warily.
Maybe they could.
Taking better care now, in the dark, Fiona pulled herself to her feet and limped toward the back of the shop. Fortunately, sunlight streamed through one of the back windows—the one, in fact, that had been smashed and since replaced when the burglar had broken in—enabling her to find and flip the correct switches in the circuit box.
Since she had by no means been certain that action would work and re-illuminate the shop, she breathed a small sigh of relief when the lights came back on and the air conditioner hummed to life.
Hurrying back toward the center of the store, under the balcony in that small cubbyhole where the desk sat brooding like Jabba the Hut, Fiona crouched at the spot where she’d tripped and saw that a small drawer had popped from the bottom of the desk.
“A secret drawer!” she squealed, looking up at Gretchen. The feline had deigned to descend several steps and now sat next to the desk, watching her with condescension. The single patch of copper fur in a swath of black made the eye it surrounded look even larger and more intense than its partner.
Gretchen, at least, seemed very interested in what Fiona was up to.
When she pried the drawer completely out of its slot, Fiona was elated to find a manila envelope stuffed inside with what felt like a small book. Just as she was tearing the paper to open it, the bells jingled as the front door opened.
Fiona shot to her feet, narrowly missing the lethal desk corner, and hurried out to greet her customer.
“Fiona!” greeted Iva as she started toward her, arms outstretched for an embrace. “I hope you don’t mind I’m a little early. I wanted to browse a bit before we left for lunch.”
“No problem. You look marvelous!” Fiona hugged the soft, sweet-smelling woman as a wash of grief for her own grandmother came over her. But she was too keyed up by her discovery to dwell on that thought.
“I just found a secret drawer in that big old desk,” she told her excitedly. “The Ghostly Presence led me to it!”
“At last! We’re making progress.” Iva clapped her hands together, a little drawstring bag dangling from her wrist, and demanded to see the drawer at once. “What’s in it?”
Fiona produced the manila envelope, tearing it open as she spoke. “I banged myself on the desk and yelled at the ghost—and then the lights went out and this drawer popped open.” The envelope tore and its contents spilled onto the floor. She and Iva stooped, nearly bumping heads, to gather up the sheaf of papers—which appeared to be letters, newspaper clippings, and some old photos.
“I think we should go to lunchright away,” Iva said as they gathered them up.
“I agree!” Fiona said gaily. “Orbra’s?”
“Definitely!”
* * *
The manila envelope contained clues that would make Nancy Drew green with envy.
The two of them had the contents of the mysterious envelope spread out on the table before Orbra even noticed they were there.
Fortunately, for once, the nosy and argumentative Maxine and Juanita weren’t at the tea shop. In fact, it was nearly empty, so Fiona and Iva had taken a table near the back of the charming cafe.
“That way if Maxine comes by, she might not see us,” Iva said. Then both of them began to laugh, because ofcourseMaxine would see them, and ofcourseshe would horn in if she did.
