The Key in the Attic(15)
5
Once Mary Beth had told Amy about the key and the table and the clue Geoffrey Whyte had left for Angeline to find, she found her mood had improved, and Amy didn’t sound quite as anxious as she had when she first called. By the time she told her niece goodbye, she was humming and tidying up the shop. She felt particularly cheery when the phone rang again.
“A Stitch in Time. This is Mary Beth. How can I help you?”
“Um, hi. Miss Brock? This is Mandy Culbertson. I wanted to know if today was a good day for me to come and help you at your store.”
“Oh.”
Mary Beth blinked, hardly knowing what to say in response. She had totally forgotten about agreeing to let Amanda work at the shop. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to her and to Amanda’s mother when they had discussed it after the accident. After all, the girl should take some responsibility for the damage her carelessness had caused. Now Mary Beth wasn’t sure she felt like dealing with it.
“Um … yes, hi, Mandy. How are you?”
“I’m fine. I just got caught up on some research I had to do for a school paper, so I thought I’d come by and help you for a while.”
“Uh … yeah. OK. Umm, you know, Mandy, I appreciate your wanting to help and everything, and I was very happy to have you help getting the glass all cleaned up and the merchandise put back where it belonged after the accident, but really, that was plenty. I don’t think you need to—”
“But, Miss Brock, I really want to help. I know the insurance paid for everything, but that accident was totally my fault, and I want to make it up to you. Please.”
“That is very sweet of you, Mandy.” Mary Beth looked around trying to figure out what the girl could do that would be helpful and not need constant supervision. “Um, when would you like to come?”
“Whenever you want. I can come now, if you want me to. Is that all right?”
“Um, sure. Right now is good.” Except I don’t have a clue what to do with you when you get here. “That’ll be great, Mandy. I’ll see you in a little while.”
A few minutes later, as she was tidying up a display of new yarns at the back of the shop, Mary Beth heard the front door open. Mary Beth quickly stuffed the yarns in the appropriate basket and called out, “Hi, Mandy—that was quick! You must have been just down the street.”
Mary Beth walked to the front of the shop, expecting to see the teenage girl, but instead, an imposing-looking, thirty-something woman and a very young man stood just inside the front door. It wasn’t Mandy Culbertson. It wasn’t anyone she’d ever seen before.
“Ms. Brock?” said the woman.
Mary Beth’s face had registered her surprise, but then she put on a pleasant, professional smile. “I’m sorry. I was expecting someone else. But, yes, I’m Mary Beth Brock. What can I do for you?”
The woman snapped her manicured fingers, and the baby-faced young man behind her handed her a business card. She immediately thrust the card at Mary Beth.
“I’m Kyrie McMillan. I’m with SLR & FFH, Incorporated. You know us better as Burly Boy’s Burger Barns. As you may know, we’re in the process of purchasing this property for development. With your permission, we’d like to do a brief review of the interior, including the basement and any access areas, in order to get a better idea not only of an appropriate purchase price, but also any potential assets or materials that could be salvaged before demolition of the building.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What was that?”
The woman looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes. “With your permission, we’d like to do a brief review of the interior, including the basement and any access areas—”
“I got that part. What I didn’t get is that you had actually made a deal to buy this property or that Mr. Huggins had given you permission to, what did you say? ‘Review the interior’?”
The woman’s young assistant squirmed in his too-large suit coat, but he didn’t make a sound. The woman, on the other hand, did not look as if she were one to squirm at all. Ever.
“I understand the final details are being worked out with the owner, Mr. …”
She turned to glare at her assistant who was fumbling with some papers in a file folder.
“Mr. Huggins,” he whispered.
“Mr. Huggins.” The woman turned again to Mary Beth. “But, as you can well understand, Ms. Brock, it’s helpful to do a certain amount of planning even before the actual deal is agreed upon. I trust you have no objections to us merely looking at the property? We promise not to disturb anything or interfere with your customers.” She peered into the shop. “If any should actually come in.”