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 Today's recommendation

Cozy small-town mystery

Mysterious things happen in small towns.

When Danielle finally quits her boring accountant job and opens an Antiques & Stuff store, her life changes for the better. But soon happy life starts to spin out of

control when the snobbish new owner of the Couture mansion brings a seemingly worthless painting into Danielle’s shop. The ownership of the painting is questionable, and the town’s future is threatened by the plans of the ruthless, rich owner who wants to build a leather factory on the estate, too close to town.

An unexpected visitor arrives, and he may possess the much-needed solution to everyone’s problems in this quaint little town.

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Danielle fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. In her jumbled dream, she was running in a dense forest and her shoes kept sticking in mud slowing her down. She tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound. Someone or something was chasing her, and she knew she had to get away. Suddenly, a beautiful man appeared and embraced her. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face and all her fears disappeared. She held onto his strong arms and looked into his passionate eyes. He started talking in a soft voice and Danielle struggled to hear his words but couldn’t. He caressed her shoulder and when their lips met in a sensuous kiss, she felt a pleasant tingle deep inside her body.

A sudden crashing sound yanked her out of the sweet dream. ‘Bloody Hell’ she heard a man’s muffled voice. What the— someone’s in the store! Fear coursed through Danielle as she stood up and reached for the handgun she kept by the couch, just in case. She felt safer when she occasionally slept in the store after a long day.

Gun in hand, she tiptoed from the backroom and turned the light on. “I have a gun, and I’m a good shot,” she warned, cocking the gun, trying to sound confident.

“Don’t shoot!” The man yelled and Danielle saw him running toward the door. He yanked the door open and heard his footsteps as he was running down the street. A minute later she heard a car engine and then the car speeding away.

Danielle took a deep breath and put the gun on the counter. Her hands were shaking as she dialed the police. “A man broke into my store! He’s gone but I’m afraid he might come back!” she cried.

“The dispatcher instructed her in a calming voice, “Hide in a room where you can lock the door. I’m sending a patrol car right away.”

Danielle was afraid to stay alone and called Sarah. Her best friend didn’t need a long explanation. “I’ll be there in a minute, don’t hang up,” she said, in a sleepy voice and Danielle heard the jingle of keys and Sarah starting her car engine a few seconds later.

The police car arrived at the same time as Sarah’s car screeched to a halt in front of the store. She jumped out and ran into the store barefoot, still in her pajamas. “Are you okay?” she cried out running to Danielle and hugged her.

“I’m fine,” Danielle assured her and looking at the two officers entering the store with guns in hand, continued. “He ran out of the store when I put the lights on, and I heard him driving away.”

“Did you see his face?” the taller officer asked, putting his gun in the holster.

“No, he stood here in front of the counter,” Danielle recalled. “But he turned his back to me so fast that I couldn’t see his face. All I saw was his dark overcoat, and he had gray, neatly trimmed hair.”

“Please look around to see if anything is missing.”

Danielle scanned the shelves and looked at the register. “Nothing seems to be missing.”

“The lock is busted,” the officer observed. “We’ll park in front of the store for a while. I advise you to go home.”

“No, I want to stay here,” Danielle replied. “I’ll call the locksmith in the morning.”

“Then I’m staying with you.” Sarah decided.

“I have spare clothes in the backroom. Go, change.”

“Okay.” Sarah turned and walked by the counter suddenly becoming upset. “Put that gun away, Danielle! I hate guns.”

“I will, don’t worry.” Danielle smiled and put the gun on the shelf under the counter.

After the officers walked out to the patrol car, Danielle closed the door behind them and secured a sturdy chair under the doorknob to hold the door closed. She left the lights on and legs still shaky, walked to the backroom to make coffee.

“Who could it be and what did he want?” Sarah questioned, putting the sweater on she found in the closet.

Danielle spooned the coffee into the filter and filled the machine with water. “I have no idea. Nothing is worth a lot of money in the store.”

Sarah cocked her head and pulled her thick, curly hair into a ponytail with a scrunchie. “Maybe he thought he’d find cash, or perhaps he knew exactly what he wanted.”

“He didn’t seem like a bum or addict who would steal anything to get his next fix. He looked well-groomed and wore Italian loafers. I recognized it because the lawyer down the street wears those kinds of shoes and he makes sure everyone knows that they’re Italian leather.”

“Yeah, he’s a pompous fool.” Sarah giggled and then her voice changed to a serious tone. “But if this man wasn’t just an average burglar who steals anything, he could get his hands on and wanted something specific, why didn’t he just come to the store and buy it?”

“I have no idea. I’m sorry I woke you up, but I was really scared. Thank you for coming over so fast, even in your PJs,” Danielle hugged Sarah.

“Of course, what are besties for?” Sarah patted Danielle’s back.

“I’m too wired to sleep, but you need rest. You’re working today, right? It’s 2 a.m. so you can still sleep for a few hours.”

“Nope, I’m off today, and I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe.”

Danielle held up the coffee pot. “Do you want some?”

“No, it always gives me heartburn in the middle of the night. Why don’t you lie down to sleep a little? I’ll stay up.”

Danielle filled her cup. “I’m too wired to sleep. I’m going to paint for a while.”

“Okay, then I’ll rest my eyes on that comfy couch.” Sarah yawned.

Danielle walked to her painting corner and after taking the cover off the half-done painting, she changed her mind. I’m going to clean the portrait of the Musketeer. Let’s see what’s hiding under that new coat of paint.

***

Danielle heard a knock on the window and looked up startled. She saw Mr. Jones straining to peek into the store through the window. Sitting on her stool in front of the easel with a brush in hand, she glanced at the clock. Oh, my! Is it nine o’clock already? She stood up and hurried to the front door. Pulling the chair from under the doorknob, she opened the door.

“Thank God you’re okay!” Mr. Jones pushed through the half-open door and hugged her. “I just heard from the butcher. Do you know who it was? Did they take anything? Did they try to hurt you? Why were you in the store so late?” his questions came as he was trying to catch his breath.

“I’m fine,” Danielle assured the worried mailman, smiling. “I haven’t the faintest idea who it was and what he wanted. He ran away when I yelled out and cocked my gun.”

“Oh, good! You should’ve shot him in the leg. He deserved it.”

“I don’t think he’s from around here,” Danielle speculated. “Only the lawyer down the street wears that brand of expensive loafers.”

“You don’t think…”

“No, he has brown hair and the burglar had silvery gray hair.”

“Now wait a minute!” the mailman grabbed Danielle’s arm in his excitement. “I might have seen that man at the Couture mansion. Mrs. Van Bramer’s secretary said he’s an art expert.”

“What’s going on?” Danielle heard Sarah’s sleepy voice behind her. “Oh, good morning Mr. Jones.”

“Mr. Jones just told me he saw the man who broke into the store,” Danielle explained to her best friend.

The mailman yanked his carrier bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ll stop at the police station and report this.” He started walking away but turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot. The bakery is open. Lucy’s niece had a baby boy. I got you fresh croissants.” He smiled and handed a paper bag to Danielle.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones! It was very nice of you,” Danielle called after the mailman as he hurried away down the sidewalk, and then turned to Sarah. “You’re not going to believe what I’ve found! Come, let me show you.” She reached for Sarah’s hand and led her to the corner in the store.

“Phew, it smells like turpentine over here.” Sarah crinkled her nose.

“I’ve been working on taking off the new layer of paint and now the signature of the artist is visible. He was a much sought-after painter in 17^th century France.”

“Let’s search it,” Sarah perked up. “Maybe this painting is worth a lot of money!”

“I’ll boot up the computer, but first, I’m going to call the locksmith. While the computer is warming up, we’ll eat the croissants Mr. Jones brought.” Danielle decided and covered the painting.

“Your ancient computer takes forever. You have to get a new one.”

“I know.” Danielle sighed. “I never had the money for it, but after the surge of customers, now I do.”

The locksmith said he’ll stop by before lunch and by the time the women finished breakfast, the ancient computer was ready for search. Danielle Googled the name of the artist and her jaw dropped when she clicked on the first website which popped up on her screen.

Sarah peeked over Danielle’s shoulder. “What? No way!” she shrieked and read the headline out loud. “The portrait of a noblewoman of the famous 17^th century artist was sold to a well know American art collector for ten million dollars.”

Danielle, not believing her eyes, backspaced and clicked on the next link. It was the auction website where the price of the painting was confirmed. She kept searching and found fifteen more paintings from the same artist that had been sold for similar amounts in the past ten years. “I have to tell Mrs. Van Bramer about this. She gave me the painting not knowing the possible value of it.”

“Wait a minute!” Sarah exclaimed. “What if that so-called expert knew the value of the painting and lied to Mrs. Van Bramer? I think he broke into the store. And what if she wants the painting back after she finds out how much it’s worth?”

“I’ll give it back to her, of course. She bought the house and found the painting in the hidden room; it belongs to her.”

“Nah-uh!” Sarah announced. “That’s not right. It belongs to the Couture family. I bet the old lady didn’t tell her relatives about the hidden room.”

“Or, maybe she didn’t even know about it. But you’re right; it had to be a member of the family who hid the painting in the secret room. It belongs to them. I’m going to finish cleaning the signature part to be sure, and then I’ll call Mrs. Van Bramer.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sarah decided. “I’m gonna go home to change but I’ll come back around one o’clock to bring you lunch.”

CONTINUE READING

Erika M Szabo

https://authorerikamszabo.com

Erika loves to dance to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance, and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative and educational and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.