Risky Relics: A Small Town Cozy Mystery

By E.Z. Pennington

Becky Olson's life changed when she got a letter from her Aunt Pauline. The strange thing is that Pauline had been gone for years, simply disappearing from the face of the earth. Then one day, Becky received a letter via her aunt's lawyer, telling her she'd inherited an antique shop. She wasn't a very impulsive person, but Becky took up the offer, packed up her life and moved to Rose Hollow.
Rose Hollow was a tiny town in Maine, wildly wealthy and full of strange residents: there was always something going on. An uncomfortable chill runs just below the surface, belying a community that plays for keeps but plays it closer to the chest. The residents are nice, but nosy and Becky feels sort of out of place after she moves in and re-opens the store that that been closed for years.
Then, after one late night, a dead body turns up in Becky's store, and it is up to her to find out who did it or risk losing her store and the new life she's just begun! This Cozy Mystery Novel is packed with quirky characters, rousing romps and a whodunnit that wraps up cleanly. No cliffhangers, no curse words and no obscenity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gizmo Media
• Release date: May 21, 2021

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1

Her car was about to break down. She could feel the tiny little VW bug sputtering and puttering to make her destination. She had been driving all night, the back of her car—which she had affectionately had named Jimmy after the ex-boyfriend who had given it to her—packed with everything she had owned.

Come on, come on, Becky Olson whispered to her car, even though she knew her car couldn’t respond. Twenty minutes, please, then we can stop and rest.

It had been just over fifteen hours’ drive from her home in Ohio, but she had begun two days ago, taking her time to this new town in Maine, the town that was supposed to be her new home. As she passed the welcome sign, proclaiming it to be Rose Hollow, established 1865, she smiled. Some of her best childhood memories were from this town and from her aunt.

Gas, why don’t we get gas? Becky asked her car then paused. I’m talking to you. Is that strange? There’s definitely a problem there. She had spent the past fifteen hours alone in her car, and it really was getting to her. Her car couldn’t talk back. To distract herself, she flicked on the radio for company until she found a gas station.

Becky had spent summers in the impressively wealthy town of Rose Hollow, but they were sporadic summers here and there, and mostly as a child. She hadn’t returned since she was eight, but it was exactly how she remembered it, and she felt a pang in her chest.

She had always felt that her aunt—artsy, flaky Pauline, who was always quick with a joke and a cup of tea—never fit into this town. Her mother had left the moment she turned eighteen, but there was something Pauline loved about Rose Hollow, even if she was, objectively, one of the poorest people in the town.

It’s weird that Aunt Pauline would send me this, right? Becky said, continuing to talk to her car. I hadn’t even seen her in years. Then I get this letter. I’m still talking to you. Maybe I should get a cat. Becky looked towards the letter that sat on the passenger seat of her car. It had come at the perfect time. She needed a change and badly.

Then the letter came, as if her Aunt Pauline was thinking about her.

She pulled into a gas station and went through the motions of filling her car. Then, she went into the convenience store, needing water, some type of candy, and directions.

There was one other person in the store; he was behind the counter. She was surprised it was open. As she placed her things on the counter, he began to ring them up. She wiped her hands on her jeans.

Morning, Becky said. Beautiful day, isn’t it? The man behind the counter smiled.

It’s an early day, he said. Becky shrugged.

It could be both, she said.

He nodded. I suppose you’re right.

Becky continued as she swiped her debit card. I need some directions. I’m headed to the old antique shop, Carnegie’s? The man stared at her.

You’re Emily’s girl, aren’t you? Becky stared at him, unsure of how to process this. Emily Olson? Pauline’s niece?

Yes, Becky said, remembering how weird small-town life could be. I am.

You probably don’t remember me. I’m Jimmy. I was a friend of your mom’s and aunt’s, Jimmy said.

Becky suppressed a laugh. I don’t really remember you. Sorry.

Then what’s so funny? Jimmy asked.

Oh, Jimmy is the name of my car, Becky said.

You are just like your aunt, the man decided. Becky nodded. She used to get that a lot. She collected her items then remembered what else she had to do.

Aunt Pauline sent me this letter. Well, her lawyers did. And I’m supposed to take over the store. Can you tell me where to go?

Straight down Main Street. It’s just off Main and Birch. You can’t miss it. It’s right next to Minnie’s Diner, Jimmy said.

Becky smiled and nodded. Thank you so much, Jimmy. Have a nice day.

You too. Say hi to Pauline when you see her. Becky nodded.

She had gotten the letter out of the blue from her aunt. Well, her aunt’s lawyer. She hadn’t seen Pauline in years, and even her mother, who had been close with her sister, had disappeared without a trace.

She got back into her car, pausing to open the bottle and drinking half of it before taking off again.

The town was just waking up as she drove down Main Street, and as she got farther, she realized how much hadn’t changed. She could see the residents of Rose Hollow waking up and doing their daily activities.

She turned down Main and Birch, trying to find the pie shop Jimmy the cashier mentioned. She vaguely remembered the place Aunt Pauline would take her every week.

Driving down the street, she realized how much she missed the town.

Becky found the antique shop and parked, stopping for a moment before she began to unpack her car. She picked up the envelope, removing the letter and the key that was given to her. She got out of the car and unlocked the store where she had spent the summers of her childhood.

Becky had no idea why her aunt would give her the store, but she was sort of excited. She pushed her messy brown hair from her eyes as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The store had always had a sort of smell—not a bad one, but an old one—and as Becky stepped in, it enveloped her. She inhaled and flicked on the lights, looking over the eccentric collection her Aunt Pauline had amassed throughout the years. Her aunt had been famous for traveling everywhere to find things to sell in her store.

The first thing Becky did was move an old heavy art deco vase to a lower shelf. She didn’t want it falling.

It was a huge responsibility taking over the store, and the thought of it sort of scared her.

I should unpack first, Becky said. She had fallen into the habit of thinking out loud. The thing was, she didn’t want to unpack. She had just spent fifteen hours in a car, and she wanted to explore.

She started with the store. It was so familiar to her… the back room, the showroom, and the hidden staircase that led to the living area above.

She opened the letter, reading it over again even though she had long since memorized it. She could feel the cool air of the store settle on her skin.

Becky placed the letter behind the cash register.

The chime above the door went off, and Becky didn’t look up. We’re not open. Not yet, she called. Maybe she would never be open. Maybe she could take this place and gut it and make it a bookstore.

Somehow, that felt disrespectful to her aunt’s memory.

Miss Olson? I’m William Brown, your aunt’s lawyer. I heard you were getting in today. I thought I would check in before I went to work. She stepped out from behind the counter. He was older, not unattractive, soft, and gentle. His dark hair was slowly starting to go grey at his temples. He wore a camel covered overcoat, nice but expensive. There was a part of her that forgot how rich this town was.

Oh, Mr. Brown, Becky said, wiping her hands on her jeans. It’s nice to meet you.

You can call me William. Your aunt was a close friend, and we’ve met. You were young though. Six, maybe? You had this thing with ponies. Are you settling in okay? he asked.

Becky nodded. I am yet to unpack, she said, but I thought I would walk around a little first. Do you want tea or coffee or anything?

I’m fine, Becky, thank you, William said. He reminded her of her father in some ways. He was treating her the same way her father would—delicately, as if she would break.

That’s probably a good idea. I don’t know if this place has a coffee maker or a kettle or anything, Becky said. She leaned on the counter.

You are exactly like your aunt, William said.

That’s not the first time I’ve heard that today, Becky said. She didn’t know if she was supposed to remember him, although he clearly remembered her. This was slightly uncomfortable, as if the ghost of her aunt was hanging over her. It had been so long since she had been in Rose Hollow. Becky looked around the store, unsure of what else to say to this lawyer.

Can I ask you something? Becky asked. William paused and nodded. Where did she go? Do you know?

He thought about it for a moment then shook his head. I was just supposed to send you the letter six months after she left. I don’t know where she went, however, she left me a very specific set of instructions. It was hard not to feel a little sad about this. Becky nodded.

Any idea why she’d leave me this store? Her Aunt Pauline was famously different than her younger sister, Emily. Pauline had refused to settle down and get married and have children, saying that children would be a burden.

You’re her favorite niece? William tried. It was clear that he was unsure of her aunt’s motives.

I’m her only niece, Becky corrected.

I think you could be her only niece but not her favorite, William said. He raised his dark eyebrows, and Becky smiled.

She didn’t seem odd or weird or anything? Before she...? Becky asked. William shook his head.

I promise you that if I knew anything, I would tell you, but your aunt was very good at not telling people anything, William said.

Yeah, Becky said.

She said the letter would explain it all. In truth, the letter was a one-page missive from her aunt saying that the store was hers and she hoped it made her happy.

No, not really, Becky said. But I do appreciate the sentiment. Her aunt had always been like this, flighty and strange. Her mother hadn’t been surprised to hear that her sister had gone missing.

I hope you enjoy it here. Your aunt was very certain that you would. You used to love it here. William said. The diner next to you is incredible, if you’re hungry, and you’ve got a good neighborhood here. I hope you settle in okay. He reached into his wallet and pulled out his business card, handing it to her. If you need anything, just call me. She took the card and looked at the type that announced him as William Brown, Esq. It was a heavy card, and she placed it next to the cash register.

Well, thank you for everything, Becky said. She ran her hand through her hair again. Wait, I should give you something… a thank you for helping me. She looked around the store. While Pauline had put so much work into finding things to sell in her store, it was all in disarray. She would have to make a catalogue of all the times, and the idea of that task was daunting.

That’s not necessary, William said. It was too late. Becky was already rummaging through the things her aunt had amassed, and she pulled out a heavy old watch. She handed it over with a smile.

William paused. I don’t know, he said quietly. Becky raised an eyebrow.

It’s a present, she said. From her and from me. Thank you, William, and I will be sure to call if I have any questions. I’m sure I will. He took the watch and smiled.

Well, thank you, Becky. I have to go to work anyway. Have a good day, William said.

You too, Becky said. She watched as he left the store and then she exhaled. There was a part of her that knew that this store was too much. She looked around the store again. Even though her Aunt Pauline was gone, she could feel the essence of her still around.

Becky considered this. While she could unpack her car and all of her belongings, that idea was still one that vaguely annoyed her. There was something strange about being alone in the store.

She had never been in the store alone, and it would take some getting used to. All of this would take some getting used to.

She would have to remember to call her mother. Becky had promised to call her mother the moment she got in. Her mother thought she was frankly insane for taking this offer from her aunt. But there was nothing Emily Olson, quiet realist, could do to stop her daughter.

Becky took off the sweater she was wearing and tied it around her waist. She often preferred jeans and a T-shirt, but she knew she would stick out dressed like that in this town. Then, she picked up the keys and exited the store, ready to look around her new home.

---

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from small-town life. Rose Hollow was a few hours’ drive away from the beach, making it not a swimming town. As she walked down the street, back up Birch Street towards Main, she wondered what people did for fun. She passed stores and bakeries and libraries and rare bookstores.

Becky knew that she would be able to spend a lot of time in the libraries and rare bookstores.

It was still early. She had gotten to the store at around eight and it was only close to nine. Stores were just beginning to open, and people were making their way to work, calling greetings to each other.

It was pretty much the idyllic small town she had pictured. As Becky walked, not pausing for long, trying not to call too much attention to herself before she knew who she wanted to be in this town, she felt most of her fears and anxieties melt away. She could remember what she loved about the town.

She watched as a young woman around her age struggled with a set of very large metal trays. Becky rushed over to help.

Oh, you’re a dear, the other woman said with a laugh. Are you new here? I’m Catherine, and I run the best catering business. This is all new supplies.

Becky Olson, Becky said, I am taking over Carnegie’s Antiques. Catherine, a very lovely young woman with glassy green eyes and freckles dotting her nose, looked up at her.

Oh, do you know Pauline? she asked. We all loved Pauline. Where did she go?

I’m her niece, but I don’t know, Becky said. Catherine led her up the path to a modest little house.

That’s a shame. She was like a mother to me. She had all the coolest stories, Catherine said. She bumped the front door open with her hip, a choreographed dance that she had obviously done many times before. These all need to be washed before they can be used. So, where do you come from?

Ohio, Becky said. It’s not very interesting.

I’ve never left this town in my life, Catherine said. I mean, excluding culinary school, and that was in Augusta. So, I’ve never left the state. She set the trays down on the counter and Becky copied her, then Becky wiped her hands on her jeans.

Well, welcome to town, Catherine said. It’s a nice place to live. Everyone sounded like a tourism advertisement when talking about the town. I’m just sure you’ll love it.

I’m sure I will, Becky said. Can I ask, is there a movie theatre or anything in this town?

No, Catherine answered. That was a fact that Becky had forgotten over the years.

So, what do you people do for fun? Becky asked.

The really rich people hold benefits and galas, and that’s very good for my business, actually. The rest of us just sort of watch Netflix, Catherine said. Becky nodded.

Watch Netflix… I can watch Netflix, Becky said. She would be able to live without a movie theatre or doing anything fun in the town. She had been craving something new and different, and it was time that she embraced the change instead of being skeptical.

It was a small town, and not much could happen in a small town.

I know, the small-town thing must be an adjustment, Catherine said. She placed a strand of her reddish hair behind an ear. You’ll get used to it. Her smile was bright and confident,