Read Online 5 Merry Market Murder by Paige Shelton - Free Book Online
Authors: Paige Shelton
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scooted into the stall on their knees.
“Don’t you go through here to get your eggs in and out?” I asked.
“I do this.” She pulled up the canvas wall and secured the corner of it with a hanger hook, similar to what most of us used. “I walk only on this path. Those skids or marks or whatever weren’t there this morning.”
The space she walked through was to the side of the marks, far enough away that her route shouldn’t have caused the digs in the dirt.
“I never go that way over there. Ever,” she continued.
An evenly worn path marked her entry and exit. It was obviously the path that she always used, and though I hated to admit it, it was clear that something or someone had disturbed the other space. But it would be impossible to attribute the marks to an egg thief. Bailey’s was an open-air market; people could access the backs of the stalls easily, and so could animals. It wasn’t rare that someone would turn around and find a surprise visitor—dogs, cats—in their stall. Bo, the onion guy, even had a skunk visit once.
“Do you want to call Allison? Let her know there might have been a problem?” I asked as I took out my cell phone.
I was surprised she didn’t immediately say yes, but she thought about it and then shook her head. “No, it’s just six eggs. It’s my fault for taking a break. I’ll be better about watching, and maybe I’ll rig something up to catch the thief next time.”
“I am sorry, Jeannine. It’s always unsettling to have something stolen.”
“It won’t happen again, I guarantee it.”
I nodded.
I helped her get everything back into its proper place and arrange the small amount of remaining inventory before I exited the stall and took the final path to Allison’s office. Disappointingly, but not surprisingly, she wasn’t around. I knew that she must be busy and I didn’t have anything urgent, so I didn’t try to track her down. Instead, I ventured back toward my truck, which I’d parked behind my own stall.
The trip back held fewer distractions. Jeannine didn’t see me wave as I passed by her space, and I couldn’t see Brenton for all the customers in front of his. Traveling through the market was often a slow, diverging process. It was good to finally make it out my own back canvas wall.
Before I climbed up to the driver’s-side bench seat of my truck, I opened the door and rolled down the window a couple inches. The old, handle mechanism worked better when I did it that way.
I hoisted myself up and closed the door. It wasn’t until I’d turned the key that I noticed something sitting on the passenger side of the seat.
I actually said “Huh?” aloud as I glanced at the small item. It took a second to understand what it was, but when I did, I followed up with, “Uh-oh.”
Of course I couldn’t be completely certain because, really, one pretty much looks like all the others. But I thought that perhaps I’d found one of Jeannine’s missing brown eggs, and for a minute I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.
Six
The egg was unquestionably brown-shelled, but it also had parts that were green and red. For a long moment, I stared at it and thought about what I should do. Though it was a harmless egg, it was not something I’d ever found on the passenger side of the truck’s seat—or anywhere, for that matter—which made its presence foreign and alarming. Anything that I hadn’t put there would have been at least surprising. I never locked the truck’s doors because I usually didn’t carry anything valuable inside it, and the lock mechanisms, like the window, didn’t always work smoothly. It was rare, though, that anyone ventured inside it without an invitation or first giving me a heads-up.
It was the decorative nature of the egg, though, that finally caused me let down my guard and pick it up.
And it really wasn’t an egg; it was just an eggshell, the insides having been released through one of the holes that had been put in it
“Don’t you go through here to get your eggs in and out?” I asked.
“I do this.” She pulled up the canvas wall and secured the corner of it with a hanger hook, similar to what most of us used. “I walk only on this path. Those skids or marks or whatever weren’t there this morning.”
The space she walked through was to the side of the marks, far enough away that her route shouldn’t have caused the digs in the dirt.
“I never go that way over there. Ever,” she continued.
An evenly worn path marked her entry and exit. It was obviously the path that she always used, and though I hated to admit it, it was clear that something or someone had disturbed the other space. But it would be impossible to attribute the marks to an egg thief. Bailey’s was an open-air market; people could access the backs of the stalls easily, and so could animals. It wasn’t rare that someone would turn around and find a surprise visitor—dogs, cats—in their stall. Bo, the onion guy, even had a skunk visit once.
“Do you want to call Allison? Let her know there might have been a problem?” I asked as I took out my cell phone.
I was surprised she didn’t immediately say yes, but she thought about it and then shook her head. “No, it’s just six eggs. It’s my fault for taking a break. I’ll be better about watching, and maybe I’ll rig something up to catch the thief next time.”
“I am sorry, Jeannine. It’s always unsettling to have something stolen.”
“It won’t happen again, I guarantee it.”
I nodded.
I helped her get everything back into its proper place and arrange the small amount of remaining inventory before I exited the stall and took the final path to Allison’s office. Disappointingly, but not surprisingly, she wasn’t around. I knew that she must be busy and I didn’t have anything urgent, so I didn’t try to track her down. Instead, I ventured back toward my truck, which I’d parked behind my own stall.
The trip back held fewer distractions. Jeannine didn’t see me wave as I passed by her space, and I couldn’t see Brenton for all the customers in front of his. Traveling through the market was often a slow, diverging process. It was good to finally make it out my own back canvas wall.
Before I climbed up to the driver’s-side bench seat of my truck, I opened the door and rolled down the window a couple inches. The old, handle mechanism worked better when I did it that way.
I hoisted myself up and closed the door. It wasn’t until I’d turned the key that I noticed something sitting on the passenger side of the seat.
I actually said “Huh?” aloud as I glanced at the small item. It took a second to understand what it was, but when I did, I followed up with, “Uh-oh.”
Of course I couldn’t be completely certain because, really, one pretty much looks like all the others. But I thought that perhaps I’d found one of Jeannine’s missing brown eggs, and for a minute I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.
Six
The egg was unquestionably brown-shelled, but it also had parts that were green and red. For a long moment, I stared at it and thought about what I should do. Though it was a harmless egg, it was not something I’d ever found on the passenger side of the truck’s seat—or anywhere, for that matter—which made its presence foreign and alarming. Anything that I hadn’t put there would have been at least surprising. I never locked the truck’s doors because I usually didn’t carry anything valuable inside it, and the lock mechanisms, like the window, didn’t always work smoothly. It was rare, though, that anyone ventured inside it without an invitation or first giving me a heads-up.
It was the decorative nature of the egg, though, that finally caused me let down my guard and pick it up.
And it really wasn’t an egg; it was just an eggshell, the insides having been released through one of the holes that had been put in it
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