Free Going Through the Notions (A Deadly Notions Mystery) by Cate Price Page A

he’s okay once you get to know him. I never can leave there without taking something with me, though. I can’t believe he let you off the hook so easily.”
    There was a short silence.
    “Daisy? Did you have to buy something?”
    “Look, it was very nice talking to you, Joe, but I’ve got to go.” I hung up to the roar of my husband’s laughter.
    I parked the car outside our house and hurried back to the store, dodging raindrops. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t fully dried my hair earlier. It was wet again now anyway.
    The striped pole was turning outside the barber shop across the street, and a customer was already sitting in the cracked red vinyl chair. Tony Zappata, the barber, or Tony Z as he called himself, was a transplant from South Philly. Short in stature, but a giant in personality, he embodied the nation’s impression of Philadelphians. Warmhearted enough to give you the shirt off their back, but tough enough to rip it off again and slap you with it, depending on the occasion and their mood. He was also a pretty good tenor and belted out operatic arias to entertain his clientele while he worked.
    Next door to Tony’s, Eleanor’s shop was still dark. A pair of mannequins dressed in exquisite antique wedding gowns posed together in the shadowy front window.
    I entered Sometimes a Great Notion to the sound of the cash register ringing. It was an ornate brass National model from 1914, and Martha was stuffing it with five-dollar bills, looking like the Cheshire cat who’d swallowed a gallon of cream.
    The store was full of men. One man was poking through the MALE box, and two others were drinking coffee and chatting.
    Two more sat at a bistro table that Martha must have moved from the sewing room upstairs. They were playing Shut the Box, a vintage dice game.
    Eleanor was there, too. “Have you lost your
mind
, leaving this one running the place?”
    I grinned. “It looks as though she’s handled everything pretty well.”
    She raised an eyebrow as if to say she begged to differ. “I guess Sarah wasn’t around to watch the store?”
    “It was easier to ask Martha.” I looked into Eleanor’s dark gray eyes and knew she understood.
    She nodded. “So how long will Sarah be staying?”
    “No idea.” I set the squirrel down on the floor. Eleanor was right. It was ridiculous that I was afraid to ask my own daughter to do me a favor. “And it seems as though I can never say or do the right thing when she’s around, as hard as I try.”
    “Maybe don’t try so hard?” Eleanor laid a hand on my arm. “We all have our blind spots, Daisy. It’s okay.” In contrast to her mannish appearance, her hands were beautiful. Feminine and elegant, the nails painted a pale pink.
    I sighed. “Sarah gets along so well with her dad, but when I talk to her, it’s like my timing is always off. When all I want to do is help her find the same purpose and joy in life that I’ve found with this business.”
    Eleanor smiled. “
And
you worry too much.”
    “I know. It’s part of my DNA. I can’t help it.”
    I went over to hug Martha. “Thanks. Nice touch with the table, by the way.”
    “Hey, I know what men like.” She winked at me. “Just call me large and in charge.” She bustled off to ring up another purchase. The MALE box was almost empty.
    Eleanor poured herself a cup of coffee and looked around. “What? No treats this morning?”
    Martha sniffed from behind the cash register. “Well, I
did
make oatmeal cherry cookies, but someone gave them away.”
    “Relax. I have some of your shortbread in the kitchen.” Before things turned violent, I hurried into the back and retrieved a tin of buttery shortbread fingers.
    “So what did you find out from the evil troll down the lane?” Martha asked.
    I quickly told them about the Perkins family and the estate sale where they felt they had gotten robbed.
    “That’s just the luck of the draw. It’s not Angus’s fault. They could have chosen to have a