Page 7

“Who do you know that wears a gray cape?” I asked as soon as we had the car loaded and Horst was backing out of the parking space in front of Meow Do You Do.

He had his arm behind my seat, half turned to look where he was going because his Honda Civic was old enough to not have a backup camera. “Hmmm?” he asked.

“It seemed like you had an idea of who might have sent you the rat,” I said. “Who is it?”

He turned back around and shifted into drive. “I mean, I may know a few people who were known to wear gray capes, but I certainly don’t know for sure who sent the rat.”

He was silent as he navigated through the parking lot and out to the road, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was lying to me. That’s just what we need , he’d said.

Because he knew who the man in the cape was. And he wasn’t happy about it.

“But—” I began.

“You never explained the second rat,” Horst said abruptly. “I understand not returning the first one. But why get another one?”

I looked down at the two boxes on my lap. “Emma said they’re social animals and need friends. And you should have seen the second one, all alone in her cage. She looked so depressed.”

“Do you think maybe she’s depressed because she’s a rat and she’d prefer to get life over with quickly?”

“No one wants to be killed by a snake,” I said with a shudder.

“Not a fan of snakes?”

“Is anyone?”

“The kind of people who buy live rats to feed to reptiles, I imagine.” He brushed his fingers against my knee. “But not these rats. Because of you.”

Not these rats . It wasn’t quite praise, but it did make me feel a teeny little glow.

Horst turned down Main Street, and I noticed a store called Yesterday’s Treasures. “Oh, can you stop here real quick?” I said, remembering my meeting with Julia. “I want to see if they have some cute china I could use for the birthday party while I’m thinking about it.”

He pulled into a parking spot along the curb and started to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Wait—could you stay in the car with the rats?” I asked. “I don’t want to leave them in case it starts to get too hot.”

He looked from me to the two boxes I was holding out to him. “You know, when I brought you tacos to celebrate booking your first party, I imagined the day going very differently. It definitely did not end in rat-sitting.”

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You are nothing if not adaptable. Thanks!” I left him sitting in the car, a box with a rat in either hand.

A bell jingled pleasantly as I opened the door to Yesterday’s Treasures.

Inside, the store was dim and cool, with a slight musty smell that spoke of neglect.

A big blond man stood behind the counter, focused on something I couldn’t see.

As I got closer, I realized he was looking at a computer screen hidden by the counter.

And judging from the way he was moving the mouse, he was intent on a game of Solitaire.

“Oh, hi,” he said when he finally looked up. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. Can I help you find something?”

“I’m looking for china saucers,” I said.

“China, china...” he muttered, looking around at the contents of the shop.

I had the feeling the place had once been beautifully staged—there were some areas that looked as though someone with exquisite taste had set them up.

But most of the merchandise appeared to have been tossed wherever there was room.

“Wait. We had a really nice set come in the other day. At least, the woman who brought it in said it was really nice.” He turned toward a glass case to his right, partially hidden from me by a stack of wooden crates, and tapped the top. “Yes. Here. Gorgeous set.”

I moved around the crates to peer in at a full set of china in a heavy pattern of navy and forest green, edged in gold. It didn’t exactly scream “princess party.” And the price tag didn’t exactly scream “good for a struggling business owner.”

“This is very pretty,” I said. “Do you have anything else?” When I’d worked at the antiques shop back home, we’d often sold mismatched china settings at a steep discount, and I really hoped Yesterday’s Treasures had something similar. “I’m looking for something more...eclectic.”

And by “eclectic,” I meant cheap.

The blond man rubbed his thumb over his jaw. “You know, I think we have some boxes of odds and ends back there,” he said, gesturing to the back of the shop. “You’re welcome to have a look.”

“Great. Thank you.” I meandered toward the back, the merchandise becoming more and more chaotically arranged the farther back I went. I ran my finger over a dresser, impressed with the amount of dust that came off it.

But for someone with a limited budget, the store’s disarray was awfully promising. I was looking for bargains, not meticulously curated treasures.

I had to peer into several boxes before I found one that contained a jumble of china saucers.

I winced at how carelessly the delicate plates were stored, but aside from a few chips here and there, they were in remarkably good shape.

I began sifting through them, pulling out any that looked like they would go well with a princess theme.

I found several with delicate floral patterns, some with mint or peach accents, and one with a gorgeous pink and gold pattern.

There was no price written anywhere, but I hoped given that the box looked almost abandoned, I might be able to negotiate a reasonable price.

As I made my final selections, I was distantly aware of the bell over the door jangling, followed by soft voices up front. I didn’t think anything of it until I started carrying the saucers toward the counter and realized I recognized one of the voices. I stopped dead in my tracks.

It was Horst. And he sounded...well, not frantic, exactly, but urgent .

“ Brooch . It’s like a ladies’ pin,” he said. “Black stone set in silver scrollwork. I’d take anything that looks close to that.”

“Definitely haven’t seen anything like that. I do have a very nice ring I’ve been assured is genuine topaz, if that’s something I can interest you in,” the blond man responded.

“No, I really need the brooch.” Silence followed, and I could practically sense Horst pacing back and forth in front of the counter. “Look, if you get a brooch that looks anything like what I’m describing, please call me.”

I emerged from the shadowy maze of antiques to see Horst handing the blond man his card.

He glanced my way, his eyes falling to the stack of plates in my arms. “There you are,” he said, leaning against the glass of the counter as though he hadn’t just been begging the proprietor of Yesterday’s Treasures to produce a very specific item.

“I thought you were staying in the car with the rats,” I said.

“I was, but then I thought you might need some help if you found something. And it looks like you did.” He sprang forward, scooping the top half of my stack into his own arms. “You’re lucky I’m such a thoughtful guy.”

It was hard to pin down exactly what was off about him. On the surface, he looked like the same man who’d hopped through the window of my kitchen holding a bag of tacos. But underneath was a restlessness that disappeared if I tried to focus on it too hard.

Something was bothering him.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“Glory O’Bryan,” he chided gently. “I’m here with you buying vintage plates, and I have two rats and a rat cage waiting in my car. What could possibly not be okay?”

I had no idea. That was what worried me.