Mystery Bookstore (3 page)

“I really must get her out of the store,” Miss Chase whispered. “She just won’t budge.”

“I’ll go tell her it’s lunchtime,” Benny suggested. “Because it is!”

Miss Chase laughed. “Good idea, Benny. Nobody would keep a hungry boy from lunch.”

But Miss Chase was wrong. When Benny told Sarah Deckle it was lunchtime, the young woman tried to send him away. “Oh, no problem, little boy. Run along. I’ll just be a little while longer.”

Now Benny Alden liked just about everything, but two things he didn’t like were being called a little boy and having to wait for lunch. Those doughnuts seemed an awful long time ago.

“I meant lunchtime for everyone,” Benny said in his nicest voice.

Sarah Deckle still didn’t move.

“Closing time, closing time!” Miss Chase said in her no-nonsense voice.

“But, but, I’m not finished,” Sarah Deckle complained.

“You’ll have more than enough time this weekend when the book sale starts,” Miss Chase said. “Besides, everything is all dark and musty in here. You can hardly see a thing. By Saturday, we’ll have all these books out in the courtyard where it’s nice and bright. There, there, Miss Deckle. Now run along and enjoy a good lunch.”

“Can we have lunch now, too?” Benny asked.

“We sure can,” Miss Chase answered. “Let’s go to Mama’s Restaurant. It’s a couple of blocks away on Magazine Street. It’s one of your grandfather’s favorite lunch places.”

“Then I know it will be mine, too,” Benny said.

They were just about to leave when Sarah Deckle turned around one last time.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she began, “but I . . .” She stopped talking when she noticed Violet putting the boxed set into Jessie’s green backpack so it wouldn’t get lost. “May I just look at that set?” she asked.

Miss Chase finally ran out of patience. “Those books are not for sale, Miss Deckle. For that matter, none of these books are for sale until this weekend. Now these children must have some lunch. I suggest the same for you.”

There was no mistaking Olivia Chase this time. She held the courtyard door open until Sarah Deckle finally walked out.

“Whew! I thought it would be dinnertime before she left,” Jessie said as they walked down the street. “I could eat two lunches now.”

“I could eat two hundred!” Benny said, skipping ahead of everyone.

They were almost at Mama’s Restaurant when Miss Chase remembered something. “Henry, would you do me a big favor? Please run back to the courtyard and see if I left my notepad on one of the tables. I have to stop at the office supply store, but I can’t remember what was on my list. Here’s the key to the courtyard. We’ll save a place for you.”

“Be back in a flash,” Henry said, taking Miss Chase’s keys.

When Henry reached the courtyard door he looked down and noticed that the door was opened slightly.

“What?” he said to himself.

Henry pushed the heavy door slowly so it wouldn’t squeak. He looked around. Right away he saw that some of the plastic rain sheets on the book tables were folded back.

“Looking for someone?” a man’s voice called out.

Henry jumped.

“How did you get in here, Mr. Bindry?” Henry asked the gray-haired man.

“How did you know I was Mr. Bindry?”

“Miss Chase told us at the auction,” Henry answered. “She said you were a rare-book expert and that you had known Mrs. Post.”

“Olivia should keep her business to herself instead of talking so much to every tourist who passes through,” Mr. Bindry said angrily.

“I’m not a tourist,” Henry explained. “I mean, I am a tourist, I guess. But I’m here with my brother and two sisters to help Miss Chase get her mystery bookshop ready for business.”

“A mystery bookshop!” he shouted. “What nonsense! Olivia should stick to writing books, not selling them.”

“How did you get in here?” Henry repeated. “Do you have a key, too?”

“Don’t need a key when fool people leave the door wide open,” Mr. Bindry said. “I just walked right in.”

Henry scratched his head. He was pretty sure they’d locked the door, but he wasn’t about to argue with Mr. Bindry. Looking around, Henry spied Miss Chase’s notepad lying on one of the tables.

“This is what I came for,” Henry explained. “So I guess I’d better lock up. Miss Chase is waiting for me.”

Henry waited for Mr. Bindry to leave, but the man didn’t seem to want to go. Finally, Henry said, “We’re getting all those books ready for a big book sale on Saturday. You can buy anything you want then, Mr. Bindry.”

“Hrmph!” was all Mr. Bindry had to say before he was finally good and ready to leave.

Out on the street, Henry double-checked that the courtyard door was really locked this time. He was so busy locking up, he didn’t happen to see what Mr. Bindry had tossed in the backseat of his car.

It was a blue jacket.

“T
hese book tables are as well organized as a library,” Miss Chase told the Aldens the next day. “I’m glad to see Violet reading one of her fairy tales because some of these books have been sitting in this shop unread for decades.”

Henry laid down an armful of books on a sale table. “We’re almost done!” he said. “Now we can clean up the inside of the bookshop before the painters come.”

Jessie checked each table to make sure the books were in alphabetical order. She turned to Miss Chase. “I hope you make lots of money on these dusty old books. Then you can order some brand-new ones for your brand-new shop!”

“All that’s left is to hire someone who knows a lot about these books to help me price them,” Miss Chase said. “I do hope someone will answer my newspaper ad.”

“How come you didn’t . . .” Jessie started to say before she stopped. She didn’t want to be nosy.

“. . . hire Ezra Bindry?” Miss Chase said, finishing Jessie’s question. “I’d like nothing better. But Ezra goes out of his way to say he doesn’t like mystery books — or the people who write them! He’s a strange one. He doesn’t really read the words in books. He just looks at how they’re made, not what they say. They could be shoes or hats or loaves of bread.”

“I wish some of these books
were
loaves ofbread,” Benny said when he heard this.

“What if Mr. Bindry answers your ad?” Violet asked Miss Chase.

“Why, I guess I’d give him the job,” Miss Chase answered. “Maybe now that Mrs. Post doesn’t stand between us, I can start fresh with Ezra.”

Everyone was surprised to hear someone trying to open the courtyard door.

“That’s funny,” Violet said when she went to see who was there. “I put a sign up saying we’re closed until Saturday.” But before she could unlock the door, Violet felt it push open.

“Why, Rex!” Miss Chase said when she saw who was there. “What brings you here?”

Mr. Phillips’s answer was a frown. He shifted from foot to foot and dropped his keys. Violet put down her copy of
Tom Thumb
to pick them up.

“I’ve got them,” Mr. Phillips snapped, stepping on his keys. He picked them up and handed Violet her book. “Where’d you get this book anyway?”

“It’s a present from me, Rex,” Miss Chase said. “I’m sorry, but the shop isn’t open for business yet.”

Mr. Phillips explained his visit. “Since I’m an old friend of Mabel’s, too, I wanted to look around before the sale. I expected to be the owner by now, but you seem to have arranged to get the bookstore for yourself.”

Miss Chase blushed at Mr. Phillips’s rude remark.

“I didn’t arrange anything of the kind, Rex. Mr. Alden is renting me the bookstore. I expect to pay him back shortly. I certainly don’t have to explain things any further.”

“All right. All right,” Mr. Phillips said. “I just want a quick look.”

Miss Chase stepped between Mr. Phillips and the book tables. “I’m sorry, Rex. The Aldens have put these books in perfect order for my sale. Everything is all set to be priced. Our sale starts Saturday morning at nine sharp. I will see you then.”

With that, Miss Chase guided Mr. Phillips out.

“What a difficult man! He was always pestering Mabel Post, too,” Miss Chase explained. “The only thing they had in common was stamp collecting. Rex was convinced Mabel had a valuable stamp she had hidden away. In any case, Rex already bought all her albums. What more could he want?”

“I’m sure glad he left,” Henry said. “Now we can get started washing down these shelves before the painters get here.”

“Good idea,” Miss Chase said. “With all of us pitching in, we’ll be done in a snap.”

They got right to work. Henry started with the top shelves while the younger children washed the bottom ones.

Benny was full of questions. “Are the painters painting the walls black? Can we keep those cobwebs up on the ceiling? Maybe the shop should look like a haunted house!”

Miss Chase laughed. “I don’t know about black walls and cobwebs, Benny, but I love Violet’s idea to decorate the store windows and walls with black paper footprints. Oh my, there’s someone staring in the window.”

The children turned around.

“It’s Mr. Bindry,” Henry said. “I bet he wants to snoop around like he did yesterday. I told him to come back on Saturday.”

Miss Chase opened the bookshop door. “Come in, come in, Ezra,” she said, giving the grumpy man a big smile. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’d like to speak with you privately, Olivia,” Mr. Bindry said as he gave the Aldens a disapproving look.

“Oh, these are my helpers, Ezra,” she explained. “This is Jessie, Violet, and Benny. Henry told me you met yesterday. I’ve been so busy I must have left the door unlocked.”

“Yes, why yes . . . that’s right,” Mr. Bindry said. “Anyway, I’m here for the job of pricing the books. Nobody knows more about books in these parts than I do. You couldn’t go wrong since I’m already familiar with most of the books from Mabel’s shop.”

“I’d like that,” Miss Chase said.

“Well, these children can’t do everything,” Mr. Bindry said. “Anyway, children and old books don’t mix.”

The Aldens looked at each other.

Miss Chase straightened herself. “That’s quite enough, Ezra. I’ll have you know that the Aldens are completely responsible for getting Mabel’s books — I should say my books — in perfect order. Just take a look at those tables out there. There’s not a book damaged or out of place.”

“Hrmph,” Mr. Bindry said, making one of his favorite sounds.

“I simply can’t hire you if you’re not willing to work with the Aldens,” Miss Chase informed the old man. “I plan to repay their grandfather for investing in the shop. I need plenty of help.”

Mr. Bindry seemed about to leave but changed his mind. “All right. But just keep these kids out of my hair until Saturday. I’ll price the books out in the courtyard. They can work in here.”

“I agree you need peace and quiet to do your job,” Miss Chase said. “So, here’s what we can do. The children need some fun. I’d like them to take a little time off for some sightseeing today and part of each day they’re here.”

“But we don’t need to go sightseeing,” Jessie said. “We like helping with your shop just as much. Honest.”

Miss Chase smiled. “Now Ezra, how can you resist this lovely family?”

“Hrmph!” Mr. Bindry repeated. He was interested in books,
not
children.

“I guess ‘Hrmph’ means the arrangement suits you?” Miss Chase asked.

“Hrmph!” Mr. Bindry answered.

“Okay, children,” Miss Chase said. “You’ve done plenty for today. I want you to take a break and go over to the French Market for milk and
beignets.
Before Mr. Bindry gets started, go out to the book tables and choose any books you’ve had your eyes on. They’re yours.”

“Choose any books they’d like?” Mr. Bindry shouted, not mumbling at all now. “There might be something here worth hundreds or even thousands of dollars. You can’t mean they can choose
any
books?”

Miss Chase folded her arms. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

Henry picked up some books from the mystery table. “These are by my favorite writer,” he said, holding up two mysteries. “Olivia Chase.”

“Same here,” Jessie said, holding up two other Olivia Chase mysteries.

Benny found an old copy of
The Boy
’
s Handbook.
“Is this worth a lot of money, Mr. Bindry?”

“Hardly!” Mr. Bindry sniffed. “Every boy your age had a copy years ago. They’re as common as yesterday’s newspaper.”

Benny held onto the nice old book all the same.

“What about you, Violet? Don’t you want to choose anything?” Miss Chase asked.

“Thank you so much, Miss Chase,” Violet said softly. “But I’m happy with my fairy tales.”

“Fairy tales? What fairy tales?” Mr. Bindry asked Miss Chase.

Violet held out her copy of
The Little Mermaid.
“Can you tell if this is worth anything? It’s part of a boxed set.”

Mr. Bindry’s eyes widened, and he reached out to examine the book. “Worth something? If it’s what I think it is, it’s . . .” The old man stopped talking. “It’s practically worthless.”

Violet bit her lip and hugged the books tightly. “It’s not worthless to me. I’m going to keep the whole set next to my bed so it doesn’t get sold by mistake.”