Casey Templeton Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Gwen Molnar
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Dad, why couldn’t we use the other half of this level for an exercise room? Heck, we could even put one of those pools in the basement. You know, the kind where you swim against some jets.”
Chief Inspector Templeton chuckled. “No pool unless we win a lottery, Casey, but I can see the gym. Let’s go up and tell your mother our new plans.” He put his arm around Casey’s shoulders as they climbed the wide steps to the main level.
“I’ll come by in about an hour, Casey,” his mother said as she parked outside Vance’s Draperies that Saturday. “If you decide on a pattern before that and go somewhere else, just be sure you’re back here by then.”
“Sure, Mom.”
Casey had never imagined there could be so many kinds and patterns of drapery fabrics. When a clerk asked him if there were something special he was looking for, he said, “The pattern I want has small light blue and red circles on a very dark blue background.”
“Offhand I can’t picture the pattern you described,” said the clerk, a slim young woman with long brown hair in a ponytail, big brown eyes, and a wide smile. Casey figured she was about eighteen or so. “Can you tell me what sort of fabric you want?”
“Pretty heavy,” Casey said, recalling the beating the drapes at the Old Willson Place had taken.
“That doesn’t tell me much. Sit at this table and I’ll bring you some sample books to go through.” In a matter of minutes the pile of sample books the clerk brought to Casey’s table got very high and wide. “Just come and get me if you want more books, or if you find what you’re looking for.” She went off to serve another customer.
Casey hung his coat on the back of a chair, put his baseball hat on the table beside him, and started flipping over sample after sample. There were lots of patterns he could imagine in his own room, and to make his search appear legitimate he marked several with yellow Post-its the clerk had given him, but he found nothing like the pattern he was hunting for.
When the clerk brought a new batch of books, she stopped and stared at him. “You’re what’s-his-name from Richford, the boy who saved the teacher’s life. I know you from the picture in the Fraserville Herald. I didn’t recognize you with your hat on, but you’re so blond you’re hard to miss.”
Casey didn’t know whether to be pleased or not. Once people saw how blond he was they usually remembered him. “Yes, I’m Casey Templeton.”
“Casey! That’s it! Nice to meet you, Casey. I’m Sarah Vance. My dad owns this place. Do you know anything new about the case? I’ve been following every news story for a paper I’m writing for my sociology class.”
“Well, the Mounties don’t share their secrets with me but —” Casey stopped. It dawned on him that Sarah could really help. Being related to the owner of the drapery store meant she could get access to the files and find out who had bought the fabric, or if indeed it had come from Vance’s. “Would helping to solve the case be a plus for your paper?”
“Are you kidding? I’d get a top mark for sure. Help how?”
Casey hadn’t quite finished telling Sarah when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Still at it, Casey?” his mother asked as Sarah moved away. “Show me what you found that you like.” She sat down, and Casey passed her the books he had tagged. “That one’s out. Even on sale it would cost too much. All the ones in this book are too expensive.” She searched through several other sample books, then called Sarah over. Casey introduced the clerk to his mother. “Your sale ad mentioned discontinued lines, Sarah. Could you show us what you have?”
There was something about the easy way Sarah smiled at people as she carried the big books between counters stacked high with coloured and patterned fabric that made Casey feel he had known her before. In their brief talk he had discovered she was bright, caring, and comfortable to be with. She was like … she was like Hank’s Cindy! Not in looks. Sarah wasn’t tall like Cindy, and Sarah’s brown hair was slicked back not flyaway gold, but they both had that wonderful way of making a person feel good. Casey made up his mind. Before this hate business was wound up he was going to see that Hank met Sarah.
“These are patterns the manufacturers have only limited supplies of,” Sarah said as she handed Casey’s mother a thick folder. “And, of course, we have a shelf of remnants — some with really good sizes and prices.”
“You have a look at the remnants, Casey,” his mother said. “I’ll go through this folder.”
Five minutes into the exploration of remnants Casey spotted a thin roll of the heavy navy blue fabric with small red and light blue circles and beckoned to Sarah. “This is it! Is there any way you can get the names of the people who ordered it since it’s been in your dad’s store?”
Sarah nodded. “I’m pretty sure I can, but it’ll take a while. I’m just helping out during university reading week. Dad scheduled the sale for when I’d be home. I go back Monday and won’t have time to do any checking before that. But I do plan to be here next weekend, so I’ll do it then. For now I’ll put it out of sight.” She picked up the slim roll of fabric. “I’ll give you my cell phone number. Call me a week from tomorrow.” She wrote the number on a yellow Post-it and handed it to Casey.
“Any luck, Casey?” Mrs. Templeton asked, giving Sarah back the folder. “I didn’t find anything.”
“Let’s just forget it, Mom.” Casey had found out what he wanted to know and was now eager to get out of the store.
“Tell me,” his mother asked Sarah thoughtfully, “does Vance’s dye drapes?”
“Some fabrics dye beautifully, others, not,” Sarah said. “It costs quite a bit because the lining and the draperies have to be dyed separately, but of course it’s a lot cheaper than almost any new ones would be.”
“I may bring some into you in a week or so,” Mrs. Templeton told Sarah. As they left the store, she said to Casey, “If you don’t mind having drapes that are dyed, we could buy the TV you’ve been wanting for your bedroom with what we’d save.”
“Terrific,” Casey said.
He smiled to himself. Now wouldn’t that be a nice bonus? Solve the Deverell mystery, have Hank and Sarah meet, be a hero, and get a television, too. He was sure that with Sarah’s help he would find out who had ordered the drapes for the big front window at the Old Willson Place. And once he knew that he could … well, Casey wasn’t too sure what he could do. He would figure that out when the time came.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was as he was leaving the skating shack the next Friday night, feeling pretty pleased because Marcie Finegood had skated more with him than with any of the other guys and not so pleased because Marcie’s dad had come to pick her up early, that Casey heard his name being called in a raspy whisper.
“Casey! Over here, Casey!”
He looked around. At the corner of the skating shack, just past the circle of the outdoor light, someone was beckoning. No one else was around. Casey walked over. “Bryan?” he said, recognizing his hailer. “What gives?”
“Casey, I’ve got to talk to someone.”
“Well, sure, but let’s go inside. It’s too cold out here.”
“No, come to my place. My folks are out.”
“Okay,” Casey agreed. His folks were very much in. They were having their two-table bridge club tonight, and Casey would rather be just about anywhere else other than home. “So what’s up?” he asked Bryan as they walked.
“I’ve got myself into something pretty bad. Really bad. And I don’t now how to get out of it.”
“Can’t your folks help?”
They turned into the Ogilvys’