CHAPTER12
Beverly missed having Maxine at her cottage. It seemed so quiet there now. But she had to admit that she did like having her privacy again. Having what she wanted for dinner, when she wanted it. Not worrying that she was waking Maxine if she got up extra early. She was used to living on her own. And she saw Maxine almost every day at Coastal Coffee, of course.
Maxine seemed to be settling into her new life here on Magnolia Key. She was happier these days.
Beverly stirred a huge pot of soup, thinking it was a little too warm of a day for soup, but her customers clamored for it when they didn’t serve it at lunch.
Just then, Maxine walked into the kitchen, carrying a tray of dishes. “Nash just left. He had the strawberry muffins. I swear those are his favorite. His eyes light up when he sees them listed on the chalkboard as the day’s offering. And Eleanor just came in. I’ll need her pitcher of cream.”
Beverly laughed as she got the cream from the refrigerator. “You’re learning all the customer’s quirks, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am.” A pleased smile swept over her face.
“If Eleanor is here, why don’t I go get that letter from my office and we’ll show it to her. Maybe she’ll know something about it.” Beverly dried her hands on a towel.
“Like she probably knows something about that painting you found, but won’t tell us?” Maxine shook her head. “I know she’s hiding something.
“Maybe we read her wrong. Maybe she didn’t know anything about it.” Though Beverly didn’t think they’d both been wrong about Eleanor’s reaction.
She went into the office, retrieved the letter, and headed over to Eleanor’s table where Maxine was pouring coffee. “Miss Eleanor, Maxine found this letter in an old purse she got from Second Finds. Could you take a look at it?”
“Why?” Eleanor eyed them both suspiciously.
“We just thought you might have an idea of who wrote it,” Maxine said. “You know a lot about the town’s history.”
Eleanor sighed, a frown deepening on her brow, and held out her hand. “Let me see it.”
Beverly handed her the letter and watched her face carefully. She’d swear a bit of color drained from Eleanor’s face, then two tiny patches of red highlighted her cheeks. Eleanor carefully folded the letter.
Eleanor cleared her throat as she handed the letter back. “No. I have no idea who wrote that. Most of it is too faded to read anyway. It doesn’t make much sense what you can see.”
“Okay, thanks for looking at it.” Beverly took the letter. “We’re thinking of putting it up on the wall. Maybe someone will know something.”
Eleanor’s eyes flew open wide. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s obviously a private letter. Hidden away so no one would find it. People deserve their privacy.”
Eleanor might be right. Maybe it was wrong to post it on the wall. But then, what if they could find out more information about these two mysteries if they did post it up by the painting she’d found? Beverly chewed her bottom lip, wondering if she should do what Eleanor suggested or chance her ire by putting it up and seeing what she could find out.
“So, you’ll not post it.” It wasn’t a request, more like an order. Eleanor didn’t give her time to reply before turning to Maxine and double-tapping the table with her fingertips. “Is my muffin ready yet?”
“Coming right up.” Maxine hurried away, and Beverly followed her into the kitchen.
“So… did you see her face?” Beverly asked.
“I did. I swear that woman is hiding something.” Maxine took a muffin from the tray in the oven where they were sitting to warm. “And she sure doesn’t want you to put that letter up, does she?”
“No, she was adamant about that. I just can’t figure out her reasoning on this. And why wouldn’t she tell us if she knew something about either the painting or the letter? These items are from way before she was born, right?” A gnawing feeling crept through her. She was certain Eleanor was lying.
Maxine nodded. “They would be from before she was born.”
Beverly sighed. “Maybe we’ll find another lead.”
“So, should we hang the letter?” Maxine asked.
“I’m not sure…” She wasn’t certain if Miss Eleanor was right, and it was a private letter and she shouldn’t violate that privacy… or whether she didn’t quite have the nerve to go against Miss Eleanor’s wishes.
