Page 21 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
I gazed at the fuzzy security cam image of the thief. Which type was he? Had someone hired him? Or was he hoping to offload the necklace and take home a suitcase full of cash?
The server brought my breakfast, and I thanked her. My disregard for the curious stares of the other patrons seemed to be working. I didn’t encourage their attention, so most of them went back to their meals.
Breakfast was surprisingly good, and I pondered my first move while I ate. If the thief had been hired and brought thenecklace to Tilikum, the person behind the theft might have been local. My first order of business was to find out if there were any wealthy collectors in the area.
As a place to start, I’d pop in to the local antique stores. Antique dealers were usually aware of locals with an interest in the rare and valuable.
Not far from the diner was an antique store, so I decided to go there first. With that settled, I finished my meal and paid the bill. When I left, I turned down my swagger, using my body language to deflect, rather than attract, attention. It didn’t work as well as it should have, and several sets of eyes still followed as I walked out the door.
The sun had come out, but it was still bitterly cold. After slipping on a pair of sunglasses against the glare as I got in my car, I brought up directions to the antique store. The Treasure Chest. Hoping it wasn’t a pirate-themed junk store, I drove over and parked in front.
There were no black flags, skulls and crossbones, or nautical items outside. In fact, the building was in good repair, and the window displays were uncluttered and tasteful. Seemed like a good sign.
A bell above the door jingled when I went in. The air smelled stale—a combination of dust with a hint of decay—and the lack of clutter in the windows gave a false impression. The interior was packed. Furniture, faded paintings, vases, and statues were everywhere. Shelves were filled with dishes, candlesticks, teacups, and various trinkets.
And why on earth were there so many squirrels?
Taking slow steps, I wandered through the cramped aisles, my bewilderment growing. There were wooden squirrels, ceramic squirrels, glass squirrels, painted squirrels, realistic squirrels, and cartoonish squirrels with unnervingly large eyes.One case held a collection of squirrels encrusted with crystals, holding colored gems in their forepaws.
An elderly woman with white hair and cat-eye glasses came out to greet me. She was wearing a Christmas sweater with a squirrel dressed in a red-and-white Santa costume. “Can I help you?”
Time for a little charm. Meeting her eyes, I lifted the corners of my mouth. “Hello, there.”
The effect was immediate. She smiled and batted her eyelashes. “Well, aren’t you a handsome one? Can I help you find something?”
“Perhaps.” I glanced around. “This is quite the collection of squirrels.”
“Oh yes. They’re an important part of Tilikum culture.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Are they?”
“Of course.” Her voice was cheerful as if she enjoyed this topic. “You must be a visitor?”
“Yes.”
She turned and started down the aisle. Apparently, I was meant to follow because she kept talking. So I did.
“We’re known for our large squirrel population,” she said, talking over her shoulder as she walked. “And ours are particularly smart and well-organized. Naturally, that gives rise to a demand for squirrel decor.”
“Naturally.”
She stopped and gestured to a wood carving on the wall depicting a squirrel with a large, bushy tail. “That was carved back in the late eighteen hundreds. Very important historical artifact.”
Without waiting for my response, she kept going. Slightly bewildered—and beginning to regret my casual observation about the squirrels—I followed her to a glass jewelry case in the center of the store. A glance didn’t reveal anything of note.
“If you’d like me to take out anything for you, of course let me know. This is one of our most treasured items.” She pointed at a rather unremarkable silver necklace. A pendant hung from the chain, engraved with the image of a squirrel.
“This is one of your most treasured items?” I asked.
She nodded gravely. “It’s one of the friendship pendants worn by Sarah Montgomery and Eliza Bailey. At least, we think it’s an original. It’s not for sale.”
“Am I meant to know who those women are?”
“Silly me.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “You’re a visitor. Of course you don’t know our history. The Montgomerys were one of the founding families of our town. It was long believed that Ernest Montgomery had hidden his treasure somewhere in the mountains. And of course there was the feud between the Baileys and the Havens. They’re two more old Tilikum families. That’s all settled now, but it went on for generations.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, or how my question about squirrels had brought us to hidden treasure and town feuds.
“Fascinating,” I said. “Your charming town must have quite a rich history.”
