Dream Gate...Grabbing Air
Romantic Suspense-Thriller Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
“I really need something that smooths me here.” Teresa Glover flared her hands in a downward motion over her amply rounded middle, as if she still had a defined waist.
Phoebe was at a loss. She guessed that her customer in the corner dressing room was about her height, but at least eighty pounds heavier.
Teresa Glover smiled at Phoebe over the top of her blue framed readers. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes and no. I worked part time when I was still in high school, but…
Teresa interrupted not really interested. “I was thinking something in a SPANX. Is Nora here today? I was sure she was going to order some.”
“I’m so sorry Mrs. Glover. I thought you already knew because the store had been closed all summer.” Phoebe swallowed.
“My Aunt Nora passed away in late June. My cousin Olivia and I only just reopened the store this morning in time for Labor Day weekend.”
“Oh, dear.” This time Teresa Glover was at a loss, but for another reason. “Now I’m sorry.”
She fumbled buttoning her blouse. “So, you’re in charge of the store?”
Phoebe nodded. “Yes, my cousin Olivia and I. Aunt Nora left us this building with her business. We’re still relearning all there is to know about foundation garments…”
“That’s lovely dear,” Mrs. Glover picked up her purse, interrupting Phoebe a second time. “Call me when the SPANX arrives.”
Phoebe was relieved the older woman decided to go. Though, she dreaded her inevitable return.
In the years since finishing high school, Phoebe had forgotten about the regular customers like Mrs. Glover.
Aunt Nora had catered to dozens of women every week, she had patiently compressed into support-undergarments that left them just on the brink of suffocation.
Phoebe knew Olivia’s temperament was better suited to retail lingerie than hers. Her cousin had been in the tiny office under the stairs all morning ordering new inventory from suppliers.
After only two months, Phoebe hated to admit it, but she already missed her job in Denver. She missed Denver. She missed her high-rise apartment in Denver. She missed the restaurants in Denver.
After the reading of Aunt Nora’s will, initially Phoebe thought that being her own boss would allow her more freedom. However, this morning, as she tidied the dressing room after Mrs. Glover, she grasped her true reality… Every customer who came through the front door was actually her boss.
Two more customers entered the store, from Sarah’s Scissors the hair salon next door. They headed straight for the round display rack of terry cotton bathrobes.
Phoebe was about to greet the two women when they heard a heavy thud above them. “Sorry, minor renovations–at least I think they’re minor.” Her smile was genuine.
Two terry robes, another thump from the floor above, a nightgown, a scraping sound upstairs and a bra fitting later - the store’s first morning with the nieces of the late Nora Jamieson in charge - was a modest success.
Just before noon Olivia emerged from the office. “I’m cross-eyed and starving with a knot in my neck. Do you want to order a sandwich from the Brown-Bag or take our chances with whatever is still in Aunt Nora’s pantry?”
“Aunt Nora’s pantry, I happen to know there are six cans of tuna that haven’t reached the expiration date.”
There was the sound of something else dropped overhead.
“Ugh…I know they mean well, but I hope your dad and Collin are done soon.”
“We’ll feed them too. My dad likes tuna, does Collin?”
Phoebe pursed her lips. “I’m pretty sure he does but ask him.”
“He’s your boyfriend Phoebe, why don’t you know?” Olivia headed for the door to the inside stairs.
“I don’t cook remember.” She laughed then was distracted by an elderly man and his wife who came into the store.
Olivia finished cutting and stacking six tuna sandwiches at precisely the same time that Collin Michaels finished sawing a two foot by two-foot opening in a narrow section of the den’s plaster. And, she had finished pouring a glass of iced tea for everyone at precisely the same time her father’s flashlight illuminated a dark and dusty shape in the narrow space behind the bookshelves.
Greg Jamieson and Collin Michaels both appeared in the dining room doorway just as Olivia set down a tray with their lunch.
She looked up with a smile that faded when she saw their expression. “Dad?”
“Honey, is my sister’s landline still connected? Collin and I both left our cell phones in his truck.”
“We need to call the police. There’s a skeleton in the den wall cavity.”
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