Threads of Yesterday: YESTERDAY'S MYSTERIES, #2

A DEADLY SECRET IS tangled up in Yesterday’s Threads, and Anna is racing the clock to get it unraveled.

In 1859, Elisabeth Margaret Nelson travelled to Crocker, Indiana to meet her new husband and start a new life. Her family never saw her again. The story of her death and a heartbroken husband who grieves his entire life is a sad tale for sure. But is it true?

When Anna Yesterday receives some vintage dresses from the local museum, she’s excited about highlighting them at Crocker’s annual Apple Blossom Festival. But someone wants the dresses back, and they’ll apparently stop at nothing to get them—leaving a trail of murder and destruction in their wake.

As Anna and Pratt work to uncover the deadly intrigue behind the vintage dresses, interference of another kind is working its way to the surface. All too soon, Anna and Pratt find themselves neck deep in trouble from more than one dimension—and wondering which will get them first!

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Glossary of Terms

Since Joss and Bess are from America’s colorful past, I thought it might be good to provide a glossary of the colloquialisms they use in the text of this book. Some of them don’t require explanation. I haven’t included those, but the more interesting ones certainly could use a little clarification. Even within context, the meanings of some of the following terms can’t be easily ascertained.

Absquatulated: to disappear

All-overish: uncomfortable

At sea: Not understanding

B’hoy: rowdy boy, ruffian

Cap the climax: beat all

Chirk: cheerful

Colder than a wagon tire: Dead

Cotton to: take a liking to

Doggery: Cheap drinking establishment

Fit: to fight

Fix your flint: To settle a matter

Fyst: A worthless dog, a mongrel

G’hal: rowdy girl, ruffian

Grum: gloomy

Gum: Lies, exaggerations

High-falutin: stuck up

Hoister: manipulator, operator

Kentucky jeans: Denim pants

Knock into a cocked hat: to knock senseless

Like a book: To speak with a large vocabulary

Likely: Attractive

Necktie sociable: hanging

No great shakes: Not important

Puke: A person from Missouri

Savagerous: Savage

Settle the hash: Settle one’s business

Shiner: Gold coin

Skeery: Frightened, nervous

Swan: swear

Unmindful: Not appreciative

Wrathy: to be angry

CHAPTER ONE

YESTERDAY, 1859

Elisabeth Margaret Nelson shifted the curtain back and looked out the stagecoach window. Over the last few hours the green, rolling hills had grown gradually flatter and the rutted, dirt roads busier. She dropped the curtain and sat back as another wave of stomach wrens assaulted her.

What had she done? Had she made a terrible mistake? She’d walked to the end of a plank and stepped right off...that’s what she’d done. Lissie wrung her hands and looked around at the other passengers. The older man in the opposite seat, beside the window, had been staring at her from the first moment, his dark eyes speculative.

He had to wonder what a young woman was doing travelling alone, without a companion. Lissie had begun to wonder that too. She’d thought it sounded like a grand adventure when Felix had suggested it, insisting that they needed time alone. But she’d never been more terrified in her life. Lissie clutched her reticule closer under that questioning gaze and gave him a small, uncertain smile.

Do you have family waiting for you in Crocker, Miss?

Did she have family waiting for her?

Yes. My hu... Lissie swallowed hard, still not believing it was true. My husband is waiting for me. He’d gone ahead to prepare a place for them to live. Or that was what he’d told her. Deep down Lissie doubted a man as handsome and vibrant as Felix Bickershaw could love a girl as ugly as she.

Lissie frowned, glancing down at the overstuffed reticule in her hands. She felt the man’s eyes on her again and discreetly shoved the velvet indispensable under her cloak. They’d all told her he only wanted her dowry. Lissie had believed it was true. Though Felix looked down at her with softness in his pretty, blue eyes, there was a certain coldness waiting just beyond that look, a negligence of her regard, which convinced her he didn’t so much love her person as what it could get him in life.

Lissie didn’t care. An ugly heiress with no prospect of finding love, she’d settled instead for a one-sided infatuation with a handsome man who could at least give her the appearance of a storybook life.

Lissie was sure she would eventually win him over to an abiding affection at the very least.

The stagecoach dipped dangerously and Lissie pitched forward, catching herself on the window frame before she landed in the lap of the cantankerous matron across from her. It was obvious from the woman’s stern gaze that she thought Lissie a trollop of the worst order because she traveled unaccompanied.

Lissie told herself she didn’t care. In just hours she’d see her beloved Felix and all would be well in her world.

Sometime later Lissie woke from a doze to the sound of shouting and the clanging of pans. She shoved the curtain aside and eagerly took in her first view of Crocker, Indiana. The sweet smell of countryside had been replaced by the moldering stench of animal dung, overlaid by the yeasty smell of spirits and the spicy tang of something cooking over a fire.

Lissie’s mouth watered and she covered her stomach with a hand as it rumbled unhappily. The muddy street was filled with men on horses and fast-moving carriages. The wooden walkways that lined the log and limestone buildings on either side of the street were busy too. Lissie’s gaze took in the women dressed in fine clothing, carrying parasols against a burning afternoon sun, and excitement seared through her.

She’d never been in a real town before. Maybe some of the beautiful, well-dressed women watching the stagecoach rumble through town would be her friends. That would be lovely.

If only they wouldn’t judge her for her plainness. Surely the cache of jewels she carried in her reticule and the equally sparkling visage of her handsome husband would win her some friends.

For the first time in her very young life, Elisabeth Margaret Nelson realized she liked her chances for a happy future. It was a heady feeling indeed.

Present Day

Anna laughed at the antics of her furry companion as he flew straight into the air, one fat paw slapping at a speck of dust dancing through a sunbeam. Bones landed and immediately sprang into the air again, twisting midair, and shooting off after a feather that had fallen from one of the antique hats she was cataloguing.

That critter is addlepated, Bess groused.

Anna turned a smile her way. He does have his moments. She inclined her head toward the dresses Bess was fondling. Do those bring back memories?

Bess sat on the counter, a dark blue silk ball gown spread across her knees. Her hands petted the rich silk with reverence. There weren’t much occasion to get close to fine duds where I lived. She grinned, showing uneven teeth in a crooked smile. There was lots o’ Kentucky jeans and homespun though. Her hand stalled on the fabric, her gaze lifting. But on occasion a slicked up lady would stay at the inn alongside the doggery. I was known to clean the floors at that inn a time or two. I always wished I could touch the fine dresses then. Her gaze had gone soft with the memory. Bess shook her head as if shaking off her thoughts. Them fine ladies didn’t cotton to bein’ touched by my kind. They was too high-falutin’ for a no-account like me.

Woven into the cavalierly delivered words, Anna read the pain and shame Bess must have felt at being shunned by people she viewed as her betters. It nearly broke Anna’s heart and helped her understand a bit better why Bess was the way she was.

In fact, over the last weeks, since they’d lost Joss, she and Bess had grown a little closer. Thinking of Joss freshened the sting of his loss and Anna’s smile slipped away. She straightened the brim of a straw hat decorated with wide, burgundy velvet ribbon, Anna settled the hat onto the display form. Tears stung her eyes before she could stop them.

He’ll be back soon, Bess offered softly.

Anna sniffed and nodded. I know he will. I just miss him.

I reckon I do too. Bess’s gaze slid to Bones, currently winding around Anna’s ankles purring, and hardened. Her heavily painted lips turned downward. Stupid varmint.

Anna reached down and ran her hand over Bones’s soft fur. After three weeks of regular feedings, she could barely feel the big cat’s spine anymore. Why don’t you like Bones?

Bess shrugged, her gaze turning shrewd. In my day the Chinamen cooked them critters up for supper. Stringy beasts. Not even worth the chewin’.

The front door bell jangled and Anna turned to smile at Pratt Davies, her employee. A good employee and a landmine of distractions, Pratt was six and a half feet tall, with brutally short, dark brown hair and golden-brown eyes framed in thick, light-brown lashes. He was classically handsome, with a strong nose, a broad jaw, and full lips that always curved into a sexy smile when he looked at her.

And against her better judgment, Anna found herself quickly falling for him. Good morning, Pratt.

Hey, boss. He turned the sign on the door to Open and started toward her, a small white bag in his hand. Like an orange streak across the floor, Bones flew in Pratt’s direction and jumped on his shoe, hissing at him as he batted his paw toward the paper bag. Pratt shook his leg, frowning down at the angry animal. Get off me you crazy cat!

Anna hurried over and scooped the puffed up feline into her arms. I don’t know why he hates you so much.

I swan, that critter don’t like nobody but you, Miss Anna, Bess offered helpfully.

Anna set Bones down and picked up the gowns, dragging the silk one from Bess’s reluctant fingers.

Pratt reached for them. Here let me help you with those. His long fingers brushed Anna’s arm as he scooped them up, sending ribbons of awareness sliding through her. His clean, masculine scent washed over Anna, along with the sweet aroma of fresh baked goods.

What have you got in that bag, Pratt? She leaned closer, eyeing the promising grease spot on the bottom.

He held the bag out to her and she took it with a squeal of delight. I brought you a cream-filled donut.

Anna opened the bag and inhaled it. You are my hero, Pratt Davies.

Bess rolled her eyes and looked at her fingernails, obviously disgusted.

He grinned. Well that was easy. I’ll bring you a jelly-filled too next time.

She shook her head, grinning. You want coffee?

Sure. Where do you want me to put these?

Could you hang them on that rack in the back of the shop, please? I need to go over them and get them ready for sale.

Absolutely.

Pratt enjoyed watching Anna sway toward the back room. She looked very pretty in her ankle-length flowered dress and strappy sandals. Heading toward the back of the store, Pratt walked through a cool spot. He scanned a look around. Miss Bessy, you there?

The hat sitting on the head-shaped form lifted and danced on the air. Pratt smiled. I brought you something too. He extracted a box from under his arm, setting it on the table. Since you kick my butt at chess every day, I thought I’d teach you Backgammon, something I’m good at.

The air beside his cheek moved and something that felt like the flutter of moth wings touched his cheek. You’re welcome. We can play on my lunch hour.

He left the box on the table and walked into the back room, feeling good about the progress he’d made with the cranky specter. He still couldn’t see Bess, apparently the spirit of a saloon girl, but he’d been trying to help Anna keep the ghost’s spirits up since the girl’s fellow specter Joss disappeared. It hadn’t been easy. From what Anna had told him about the ghost, Bess sounded singularly untrusting and cynical. But it was important to Anna that the girl stay positive until they could get Joss back. So it had become important to Pratt.

The delicious smell of coffee met him as he pushed open the door separating Anna’s workshop from the store and headed toward it. The tiny kitchen area in the back corner of the workshop was pristine as usual and Anna had already placed the two donuts he’d brought on a paper plate and poured two steaming mugs of coffee. He sat down at the tiny, round table and watched as she put fat-free creamer in her coffee and added a sugar substitute.

Pratt sipped his coffee and closed his eyes with pleasure. As a cop in St. Louis, he’d learned to drink his coffee strong and black. The coffee at the police station could have doubled as roof tar, so he wasn’t picky. But coffee from Anna’s single-serving, high-end coffee maker was the highlight of his day. You know you’ve spoiled me with this coffee.

She sat down across from him and picked up her donut. Who’s spoiling whom? If I wasn’t worried about my butt spreading beyond the width of my doorways I’d really enjoy this donut you brought me. Despite her words, Anna wasted no time dunking the donut in her coffee and taking a delicate bite. Oh stars, that’s good. She chewed and swallowed, smiling. Thanks so much for this, Pratt. It was really nice of you.

He chewed his own donut and shook his head. I have selfish reasons. I really look forward to sitting here with you in the morning and visiting over coffee.

Anna looked down at her coffee, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. I enjoy these morning visits too. But you don’t have to feed me, you know.

He shrugged. It’s an excuse to buy donuts. You know I gave them up when I was a cop. I wasn’t strong enough to withstand the ridicule.

She laughed. The old cop eating donuts cliché. Yeah, I can see why that would spoil the fun of a good donut.

It was either give them up or become a closet donut eater. I couldn’t bring myself to be a sneak eater, it seemed lowering somehow. Fortunately there are no clichés about antique store clerks and donuts so I’m free to indulge my obsession with greasy pastries now.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Obsession huh? Maybe I should worry more about your backside than mine."

Pratt reached across the table and skimmed a finger along her jaw. You can worry about my backside any time you want, boss.

She snorted, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink.

Pratt stabbed a finger at that morning’s copy of the Crocker Sun. The headline was surprising to say the least. Local Man’s Grave Disturbed.

This is pretty weird, huh?

She nodded, her mouth full of donut. When she’d swallowed she said, Felix Bickershaw’s been in that crypt for over a hundred years, it’s very odd that somebody would vandalize it now. She shook her head. The world’s full of strange people.

True dat. So what’s on tap for today?

She licked her fingers and wiped her lips with a paper napkin. Those antique ball gowns you just hung up for me. I’m going to work on getting them ready for sale.

That’s not really up my alley but let me know if I can help.

She nodded. Actually, you could start refinishing that oak washstand if you want. I’d like to get that on the floor before the Apple Blossom Fair. It should sell for top dollar during the fair.

The one with the mirror?

Yeah. Would you mind?

Sounds perfect.

Anna smiled and stood up, carrying the empty plate to the trash. Great. Thanks. She headed for the door, stopped and turned back. See you at lunch?

He grinned. Tuna on whole wheat?

Anna grinned, nodding. They’d fallen into the habit of splitting a sandwich every lunch break. They took turns bringing the sandwich in and it was Pratt’s turn. Sounds wonderful. She smiled and left, feeling his gaze as she walked away. Anna wouldn’t deny that she liked the feeling.

She liked it a lot.

Bones hurried across the shop when she exited the workroom, mewling and snapping his tail. He hated when she went to the back without him and never failed to tell her about it when she returned. Oh, I’m sorry, boy. I left you behind again didn’t I? The big tom cat folded himself around her calf, his eyes closing with pleasure as he rubbed