The Negotiable Life of Stella Bell

By James Whaley

A mystery story that cries for justice. At one year of age Stella Bell might have declared herself an orphan. Raised on a Flint Hills ranch in Kansas, she managed to build a life for herself, finished school at Emporia State, and while a librarian in a high school, found an opportunity to buy a book store in Texas. The only man in her life claimed to be an FBI agent. He also claimed to have a suitcase full of negotiable bonds. He wanted the aid of Stella to cash in on a deal of a lifetime. Stella was willing but could she trust this man to be what and who he claimed? Stella's life was at risk. Could she keep it from falling apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462033553

James Whaley

Eighty-year-old James Whaley spent thirty-four years in the public classroom, teaching twelve-, thirteen-, and fourteen-year-old students. He also taught senior citizens for twenty-five years and high school students for six years. Creative writing has intrigued him his entire life. James lives in Chanute, Kansas, with his wife, Elinor. They have two grown daughters and two grandchildren. The author has always been an admirer of the creative word.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Returning from her lunch hour stroll through the Huntington City Park, Stella slipped into the store. She quickly examined the interior of the store with an admiring eye. Everything was situated just as she had envisioned from the store’s beginning. The height of the book racks were sufficient to hide her five-foot five slim frame, yet short enough to allow the interior of the store to provide a sense of openness. The idea was to create an atmosphere of homeliness to the customer. It was something she had always enjoyed in library structure as well as in bookstores.

The 25-year-old already had experience in establishing a library, and in creating an inventory suitable for high school students. At Olive High School, her former employer, she did just that. Though she looked younger than her age, she possessed a solid background in library science. She tucked back in place a lock of her shoulder length auburn hair, and picked up the reading glasses she recently purchased at J C Penney. The sales clerk said they enhanced her brown eyes. Stella doubted her sincerity.

Miss Bell, I can’t find a copy of Cook’s latest, Cain’s Revenge.

Humor section, bottom shelf, Stella responded barely above a whisper.

Thank you, dear, I found it.

That Betty, Stella mused to herself, she’s been with me since the beginning and each day is still as if it was her first day in the store.

Stella Bell acquired the building and its contents about three years ago. She had been librarian at Olive High School for over two years. One spring day, while visiting the teachers’ lounge, a rare thing for her, she picked up a copy of USA Today. By fortune, or luck, or happenstance, she saw an advertisement: Bookstore for sale, Huntington, Texas. Responding to the ad resulted in her purchasing the store on a twenty-year contract.

The elderly couple, Mike and Angie Williams, who owned the store for over twenty-five years, were ready to retire. They were also quite interested in the continuation of the family oriented store they had established. Stella and the couple worked out a contract that would provide a small monthly income for the couple, and at the same time allow Stella to afford the purchase price of the property. Well known in the area, the couple had developed a faithful clientele that kept Stella in the black during the first six months. After six months, the contract allowed Stella to make any changes she desired.

She re-named the store, added bells, and candles to her inventory, and Bells Books and Candles was born. Many of the older customers often referred to it as Angie’s Store, in honor of its former owner, and many others admired the addition of the bells and candles. It made the store smell and sound ‘wonderful,’ as most customers put it.

She had two part-time employees. Her only full time employee was Betty Johnson, petite, barely five feet tall and a few pounds over 100. Some customers had asked if they were sisters. But physical characteristics are where the similarities end. They were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to personalities. Betty, a hard worker who never met a stranger, and therefore did a great job in relating to the customers, pleased Stella, but her openness in personal traits also exasperated Stella.

Miss Bell, I declare I don’t know how you remember all these books in that pretty little head of yours, exclaimed Betty, as she led a smiling new book owner to the checkout counter.

Stella self-consciously glanced at two male customers standing nearby, and knew from the warmth of her skin that she was blushing. Quickly picking up the morning’s mail from the counter, she ducked her head and slipped around the counter, past the bell section of the store and between the curtains that separated the store from her office.

Sitting down in the soft chair behind her desk, she quickly composed herself, and sighed at the ease in which her employee could create unwanted attention for her. And she seemed to do it quite consistently. That Betty, one of these days . . .

Putting her vengeful thoughts aside Stella began thumbing through the stack of mail. She glanced through the pile of letters from book publishers soliciting business, potential customers’ queries on out-of-print books, invoices from suppliers, and catalogs of all kinds. Stella was still easily shocked at some of the things now found in print that catalogs offered her store to sell. In no way would the Huntington community allow her to put certain magazines in her window. Huntington, Texas may sit on the Interstate, but some of the magazines were so explicit that her customers would never accept it being displayed in a store window in their town. Laying aside the sizable stack of catalogs, Stella picked up the jet-pk padded shipping package and stripped it open. Inside was one TKD sixty-minute audiocassette tape. What in the world? Opening the bottom right-hand drawer of her desk she pulled out her compact Sanyo cassette player-recorder. Slipping the tape into the machine, she punched the play button.

The sound of a bell tolling three times, and then an apparently disguised voice spoke, Three-o-one Alamo Plaza. Do you dare come? Do you dare not to come? Remember me? I know who you are!

Stella sat stunned. It was several minutes before she recovered enough to realize the tape was still going. Checking; she found the rest of the tape blank. Picking up the envelope, she examined it for a return address. None. Postmark? Some place called Washington Center in Nevada. Recyclable, the packet stated below the recognized symbol. It looks like it has been recycled, thought Stella eyeballing the dingy package. She noticed something else still inside the envelope. She extracted a small brochure.

SAN ANTONIO, it proclaimed, OVER 24 ATTRACTIONS & MUSEUMS. Examining the pamphlet, Stella saw that indeed it contained twenty-four coupons on attractions in and around San Antonio, and one for Enterprise rent-a-car. While studying one of the coupons she found an answer to one of her questions. On the back of the Ripley’s Believe It or Not coupon, she found an address, 301 Alamo Plaza.

Stella grabbed the envelope and spread the open end between her hands. As she suspected something still remained in the bottom of the envelope, she reached inside and retrieved a small empty cardboard container that proudly announced, Dentyne Ice Spearmint Gum, 12 pieces, sugarless. Eyes wide, and holding the brightly colored container as if it were coated with deadly bacteria, Stella immediately understood; this is his handiwork. Hands shaking, she placed the gum container on the desk and stared first at it, then at the envelope, the audiotape, and the brochure as if they were dastardly intruders. Oh, how she wanted to take them all, to take the whole thing, and throw it all into the trash. But she knew she couldn’t. She would go to San Antonio. Once again, she would face him. She would listen to his need; he always had a need. She would do it, as she had before, for life was too short to continue ignoring the past.

CHAPTER 2

Stella squirmed slightly as she adjusted the safety belt across her chest. It was more her nerves, rather than the physical restraint, which created the uncomfortable feeling. Once again she fidgeted in her seat as her mind retraced the emotions stirring within her soul as a result of yesterday’s mail. Aware that she most probably acted in haste, she was conscious of the fact that her response to the package was exactly what the sender had expected from her. She also knew she needed to deal with the situation now, for it would not go away on its own and after all, what choice did she have? He wouldn’t allow her to ignore him. To disregard the message contained within the contents of the envelope would only call for a more direct attempt to achieve the attention the sender desired.

Stella was so keyed into her thoughts, that at first the sound did not register. Only on the third ring did her mind clear and she became aware of the insistence of the cell phone. Not yet completely back to the present she answered the persistent ring tone. It was Betty.

Hi, Miss Bell, I hope I’m not bothering you, or anything.

I am trying to drive and operate this phone at the same time.

Oh my, Miss Bell, I heard on the TV just this morning that talking on a phone and driving is kind of dangerous. Do you think you should be doing that?

Betty, what do you need to talk to me about?

Well, Miss Bell, I know you told me not to call unless it was important, but I didn’t know what to do.

That’s okay, Betty, what’s the problem?

Well, first of all, we received an invoice here from CMS, that’s Classical Music Service, and it’s marked ‘past due.’ The enclosed letter sounds like they are going to take us to court or something, and I . . . Stella cut her off.

Goodness sakes, Betty, I told you yesterday, just put the mail on my desk, and I’ll take care of it when I return. I’m only going to be gone for a couple of days. There is nothing for you to worry about. Stella dared not think about what might happen at the store if she indeed was forced to stay away for more than a couple of days.

Well, I didn’t know if this could be something we should . . . you know, something that we needed to deal with today.

What would you do? Bolt the door? You know the bill can’t be paid until I return.

I thought maybe I could write a personal check and that you could pay me back later. Wouldn’t that work, Miss Bell?

Betty sounded very sincere on the phone, which worried Stella. Just put it on my desk and I’ll take care of it when I return. Do you understand, Betty?

Okay, Miss Bell, you know best. Now about the Consumer Report magazines. What do you want me to do with them?

What’s wrong with the magazines, Betty?

Well, our copies of the April issue arrived this morning, and I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with them. Do you think I should put them on the shelf?

What were you planning to do with them, Betty? They are for sale you know. Stella’s attempt to avoid sarcasm was only partially successful.

Yes, Miss Bell, I understand, but you know how the April issue tends to disappear from the shelves without being paid for. I thought it might be a good idea to keep them under the counter so they would be safe.

Stella recalled that last April the store had lost three copies of the magazine containing the latest report on new cars. At the time, she had reminded Betty that three copies were the store’s profit margin for the magazine. Sometimes Betty’s memory was very good. I appreciate your concern, Betty. However, if we don’t display them we can’t sell them. Why don’t you place them on top of the counter near the cash drawer where you can keep an eye on them? We’ll try that this year.

Oh, Miss Bell, you’re so wise, you always know what to do. I wish I could continually solve problems as easily as you do. My mind went totally blank, not knowing what to do.

Good-bye, Betty, I have to drive now. Before Betty could respond, Stella punched the disconnect button on the phone. If that thing rings again I’m not answering it, she announced to the world.

Stella tried to return her thoughts to driving, but Betty’s comment about solving problems replayed in her mind. Glancing at a road sign declaring San Antonio 48 miles, Stella knew her problem solving skills were about to be tested. She also knew that her heart would be tested. The Dentyne gum container in the envelope could only mean one thing. Frank.

CHAPTER 3

Young lady, you better get a move on, the bus is coming down the lane now. Did you hear me, my dear?

I can’t find my library book and it’s due today. I know I had it right here last night, but it’s not here now.

It’s on the bench in the hallway; I put it with your coat earlier this morning so you wouldn’t forget it. I declare, child: you are going to school again today without anything in your stomach. You need to take time to eat something, you’re going to waste away if you don’t’

Sixteen year old Stella rushed into the big country style kitchen with an armload of books and dragging her coat by one sleeve. Grimacing as though she were already into another day that would prove to be as bad as yesterday, she reached for the slice of toast covered with peanut butter. Her grandmother jerked the toast back just in time.

Not with the coat sleeve. Here, let me help you get the coat around you, and then we can worry about the toast.

Stella dropped the books on the counter that jutted out perpendicular to the wall. Slipping her arms into the sleeves of the heavy jacket, she again reached for the toast. This time her grandmother allowed her to grasp it. Picking up the books once again, Stella headed for the door leading to the outside and to the wide expanse of the yard to the back of the house.

I may be busy helping Uncle Andy with the yearlings this afternoon when you get home from school. Don’t forget to finish cleaning out the chicken coop. We need to have it ready before the first of the month. There’s the bus, bye dear, have a good day.

Stella glanced out the open door and looked back at her grandmother. I hope it’s better than yesterday. Bye G-mom, have a good day too. Stella rushed down the steps of the wide veranda style porch and into the waiting school bus.

Stella knew the bright yellow bus would be empty since it picked her up first. To Stella it was a downer. First to be picked up and last to be let off. She spent nearly two hours on the bus every school day. She learned to accept the situation as she had learned to accept other conditions in her life.

* * *

Sara Cantrell lacked one month of being sixteen when she gave birth, and her boyfriend, Steven Bell, had just turned 17. Neither of the parents finished high school. At the age of 16, Steven left home when he refused to follow the rules laid down by his father, and lived with first one cousin, and then another. The young couple, without the obligation of a marriage ceremony, moved in together in a one-room apartment, for the last six months of Sara’s pregnancy, Stella Irene Bell was born on June 14. Needing more room, Steven moved his family into an old trailer house, without air conditioning, located in Saline, and in the heat of the Kansas summer. Then winter arrived, and there was never enough money to keep the trailer’s propane tank with a sufficient supply of fuel. Prior to giving birth, Sara, having left the Cantrell home, rented a one room apartment and worked as a waitress at Alma’s cafe in Saline, where her tips barely equaled her minimum wage salary. An elderly neighbor agreed to watch the baby while Sara kept her hours at the cafe, in return, Steven would do odd jobs around her place. The couple, anxious for Sara to keep her income, agreed to the exchange. Steven had a history of having difficulty holding down a job. When he did agree to a job, it usually was as a mechanic’s helper. When the neighbor outlined the projects she had in mind, the boy said, No problem. Steven, however, continued to spend much of his time working on the ‘55 Oldsmobile Holiday hardtop he planned to restore to prime condition. The car, painted a beautiful two-toned four door, with a cream white on the front and top, and sky blue on the lower portion, had put Steven deep into debt, and the car still did not run. The vehicle had tires on the back; the front sat on cement blocks. The elderly neighbor told Sara that unless Steven kept his promise within the next week, Sara would have to find a new sitter for the baby. Stella was two months old when Steven sold the car and left Saline for California, alone. The neighbor relented and continued watching the baby, free of charge.

Two months after the separation, Sara was diagnosed with stage III pancreatic cancer, according to one doctor, or stage IV, according to another. The doctors were not in agreement as to how far the cancer had spread. They did know that it was in the liver and possibly the lung. Also they disagreed on whether it had spread to the lymph nodes, or to some of the blood vessels near the pancreas. The doctors were in agreement that she would need to undergo extensive and dramatic surgery procedures, plus chemotherapy and radiation treatments after the surgery. To Sara, it all sounded like too little, too late. She said no to the treatments, called her mother with a resignation of her failures, and made plans to return home with her child.

Elly Cantrell recalled the harsh words uttered when Sara left the Ranch. They both made vows that no longer mattered. The I won’t allow a daughter of mine to speak to me like that, leave, if that’s what you want, and good riddance. declaration, and the I never will step foot in this house again, as far as I am concerned, my mother is dead, response, were forgotten. Her daughter was dying and needed someone to care for her. Elly knew what she had to do; her daughter needed her. Elly would provide for her needs. Sara had been dealt a difficult hand in life and lost. Now willing to return to the nest, bringing a fatal illness and a baby with her, Elly, as a parent, offered her support and disregarded her daughter’s vicious parting words.

Sara’s doctor gave her a prognosis of two months. Three months later, Elly buried her seventeen-year-old daughter. Before her death, Sara signed the papers drawn up by Elly’s attorney, making her guardian of nine-month-old Stella Bell.

Elly Cantrell, a small woman, with an imposing authority about her, had just turned sixty-five when her only daughter died. Much too old, she thought to be raising a baby girl, but she maintained a resolve to comfort and care for her granddaughter.

Elly had lost her own husband in a tragic accident just five years before. Sam Cantrell, known for his daredevil antics in his WWII style jeep, believed he could go anywhere at any speed. That all ended when he failed to negotiate a turn along a deep ravine while checking a fence line. The jeep went over the edge and crushed him when it hit the bottom of the ravine upside down. Elly now ran the large cattle ranch in the Flint Hills of Kansas. She was in charge of nearly 1000 head of livestock, ten of which were horses. The rest were range cattle of no particular breed, yet suited to the limestone, mineral rich, and grass of the Flint Hills.

Sam’s brother, Andrew Cantrell, aided Elly in her cattle operation. Andrew, viewed by most area ranchers as a bear of a man became a teddy bear in the hands of Elly and Stella. Uncle Andy never attended a college class, but had a renowned reputation with other ranchers of the area. Andy ran a solid operation; however, he knew the boss when he saw her: Elly Cantrell. She always listened to Andy, but when decision time rolled around, she