Page 22 of Promise Keeper

"Theresa has a good eye for antiques. Are you sure there's nothing in there that Will would want to buy from you?"

"I'm not sure at all. I didn't take the time to sort through most of it," he said. "I went by the rule that if I didn't know what was in a box or a bag, it got tossed and we wouldn't miss it."

I gasped. "Until you do! I have time, Soapy. Why don't you leave that by the back door and I'll start sorting through it tomorrow for you?"

"No, no, I'm certain there's nothing valuable in here. She keeps all her treasures in the house where I won't accidentally throw them away when I get a bee in my bonnet like tonight."

Ben nudged me and jerked his head to the side, indicating that we should go. "Well, we'll leave you to it then," he said.

"Have a good night, you two," Soapy said, waving us off.

"You, too," I called.

We paced back along the side of the shop. I happened to look up and noticed a light on in an upstairs bedroom. The curtains ruffled as they were shoved into place, but not before I caught a glimpse of Theresa glancing out at us.

"That's strange," I muttered.

"It was very strange," Ben said, talking about Soapy.

"No, I mean Theresa was looking out the window at us a second ago, but she tried to hide when I saw her."

"Maybe she didn't want you to see her in her night clothes."

"No. It's unlike her. She didn't wave or anything, just ducked out of the window."

"It seems like they're up to something," Ben said, "but it's not illegal to clean out your shed at quarter till two in the morning."

"Everyone in this town is up to something."

"That's true. All we need to do is figure out which one is responsible for the bones, then who the bones are--or were--and who killed him. Nothing like mission impossible."

"It's not impossible. It only seems impossible." I wouldn't let the lack of information get me down. The answers were somewhere and we'd dig them up eventually.

"Now we have a Soapy and Theresa suspicion to go along with our Fiona and Jim suspicion. Breaking into the Soapy Savant is a hard line I won't cross," he said. "Plus, it's their home. I'll be forced to arrest you if I catch you sneaking in their window."

"I would never!" I did want to go through those trash bags though. My mind was already sifting through the scenarios that would get those bags to my house. Mostly, they relied on those trash men Roy knew at the Cornerstone. If they could get the bags and drop them at my house, I could go through them and make sure there were no more human bones and rescue Soapy from the suspect pool.

Fiona and Jim, on the other hand, were sinking fast in the pool of their own making. I couldn't wait to get home and start reading Estelle Brooks's journal.

11

Daylight broke the next morning before I'd shut my eyes and slept even one minute. I'd been in the same spot on the couch reading Fiona's ancestor's diary since we got home from our late night stroll around town.

As was written on the book, it was a journal, a collection of life changing events and not a diary of daily activities. They read almost like a memoir.

Estelle Brooks was a fascinating woman who lived a scandalous life. She married Paul Brooks when she was only sixteen. She wasn't given a choice. Her mother died when she was a baby, and Estelle's father handed her off to his partner's much older son, Paul. He was twenty-eight and had been married once already with two children, one seven, and the other four. Paul's first wife died in childbirth along with their third child. Estelle raised his two kids, the oldest of whom was Fiona's grandfather.

Like the information we read in Read and Re-read, there was an entry on the Whitewater train robbery. It had to have been the most interesting thing to happen in Metamora, well,ever, so it wasn't surprising that Estelle wrote about it. What was surprising was finding out she had an affair with the robber after Joseph Longo bailed him out and he began working at the circus. His name was Dalton Stokes. Estelle wrote on and on about his dangerous good looks, and how exciting and unpredictable he was. She wondered about Paul and what he would do if he ever found out. She didn't believe he'd care as much about her being disloyal as his reputation being tarnished.

Even that far back family name and pride was the most important thing. Of course it wouldn't be great for a man's pride to have his wife leave him for the man who got paid to be the Pharaoh's Cursed Mummy at the circus. According to Estelle, Dalton's tall, lanky form gave Joseph the idea of making him a mummy. He even ordered an elaborate sarcophagus to display him in.

I suppose taking a nap in a fancy coffin for a living wouldn't be too bad. Dalton probably had to jump up and scare people or something, though, to make the exhibit freak show worthy.

Speaking of freak show, ever since I turned forty my knee played tricks on me every time it rained, and now my back was out of whack. I found a stray hair on my chin the other day. Not a normal hair, a thick black one sticking straight out under there. I got a rash on my cheek that took months to go away, and my eyes were getting blurry around the edges when I read. It seemed like my body was trying out something new all the time these days.

Ellsworth tore into the room, zooming to the opposite side where he launched up onto the back of the wingback chair and hissed.

"What on earth is your problem?" I asked him. Then Spook sauntered into the room like he owned the place.

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