Now I understood why Winston had described Arcana Antiques as a thrift shop. The place was a chaotic jumble of… well… everything. How could anyone find anything in this place? How many things were lost here every year? Not through theft,but because they’d simply been tucked behind something else and forgotten.
It reminded me a lot of Elwood’s store, except all this merchandise was old. And instead of the earthy and floral scents of sage, lavender, and incense that hung in the air at The Mystic Menagerie, this had an unpleasant blend of mildew, mothballs, lemon-scented cleaner, and, unfortunately, a hint of body odor.
Leon rose like an apparition from behind a cluttered desk at the back of the store. His smile disappeared as soon as he realized I wasn’t a wealthy tourist. His gaze darted down to his desk as I approached.
“Are you here about the social media?” Leon asked.
I frowned. “What social media?”
Leon scowled as he shuffled papers around on his desk. “Last night, the festival board agreed to put you in charge of our social media.”
Right. I’d forgotten about that.Oops. Still, it was a good excuse. Because now that I was here, I had no idea how to confront Leon. I should’ve searched the internet for how to politely ask someone if they were a murderer. But if I played along, I could try slipping in a few discreet questions while we talked about social media engagement, viral videos, and trending topics.
Unfortunately, now that he was standing in front of me, I couldn’t see him killing Winston any more than Elwood had. He was an angry, bitter man, but killing Winston was wrecking his weekend festival. Would he actually jeopardize that?
Still, I needed more than a gut feeling to let go of the idea completely. He was behaving too suspiciously to be completely innocent.
“Yes. I thought I should get started,” I said.
Leon nodded. “Good. What do you need?”
“You need to allow me access to your accounts.”
Leon narrowed his eyes. “As an admin?”
Such a suspicious guy. “That’d be the easiest way, but every client has different ways of doing things.”
What else could I say to butter him up? People liked flattery, right?
“Fine. But only because the rest of the board voted for it. Even though the meeting hadn’t started yet…” He clenched his teeth as he scribbled a few things on a piece of paper. I shuffled forward to see what he was writing, but he looked up sharply, and I stopped moving forward. Still, his behavior was piquing my curiosity.
He thrust the paper at me. “Here.”
I glanced at what he’d written. It was a list of all the typical social media platforms, along with usernames and passwords. “Okay. But I’ll need you to add me as an admin to a couple of these, too.”
Damn it.That had been the perfect spot to say something encouraging and get in his good books. I’d blown it.
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered.
But rather than ushering me out of the store, he plopped down in his chair. As he straightened his papers, I realized they were merchandise listings from online auction sites. I caught a glimpse of aCabbage Patch Kid, aHappy Mealtoy, and even something about those floppy stuffed animals that were popular before I was born. He shoved the papers into his desk drawer before I could ask about them.
Once the papers were hidden, he motioned me around to his side of the desk. “What do I do?”
Huh, I’d been invited into the lion’s lair… or Leon’s lair…
I scurried around to join him on the other side of the desk. While he signed into one of the social media platforms, I scanned the desk for clues. He hadn’t shut the drawer he’d shoved the papers into, so I snapped a picture with my phonehoping it captured more than the info about junk no one wanted. A guy could only hope it’d say something incriminating likeI killed Winston because…
I wasn’t going to hold my breath, though. Given my luck lately, it’d be some article about howPokémoncards were now considered vintage collectibles. Josh the Jerk, who was older than me by about ten years, had drunk himself into a stupor when he’d discovered that a few months ago. People saved a lot of strange things, thinking they would someday be worth money.
When we’d finished with the social media and I didn’t immediately leave, Leon skewered me with a glare. “Is there something else? And don’t ask me about your grandfather. I don’t have anything more to say about that. I told the police what I saw, and Elwood didn’t deny it.”
“You can’t possibly think that Elwood killed Winston.” So much for making discreet inquiries.
Leon compressed his lips into a hard and tight line. Which made me do the same, mostly so I didn’t blurt out all the angry things I wanted to shout at the man. I sucked in a breath through my nose.
“People kill other people all the time,” Leon said. “Anyone can be driven to murder, your grandfather included.”
You too? I wanted to ask. Instead, I went with, “So what’s his motive?”
