“They’re traveling for the holidays,” he explained.
“Thanks for your business, and I guess I’ll see ya later this week,” Vi smiled.
He was about to walk out the front door, but turned back. “I’ve been meaning to ask—do you know anything about the history of the main ranch house?”
Vi came around the counter. “I was wonderin’ how long it would take you to ask.”
She scooted Jace out to the sidewalk and turned the open sign in the front door to closed.
“Time for my break anyway. What do you say we have a cup of coffee over at the café?” She pulled him along with her, down the block, and across Main Street.
“My daughter owns this place. What can I get ya?”
“Uh, coffee would be fine, ma’am.”
“Stop bein’ so formal. Call me Vi, and make yourself comfortable. I got quite a story to tell you, cowboy.”
Vi came back to the table with two coffees and two pieces of cherry pie. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until she set it in front of him.
“His wife designed the stained glass window. I’ll bet that’s the first thing you’re curious about.”
“I didn’t know about it until a few days ago. It was hidden behind a wall of shiplap.”
“Yep, Walt couldn’t stand to look at it after she left.”
“Was that when he had the carpeting put in too?”
Vi nodded. “Found the pocket doors yet?”
“Why’d he cover it all up?”
“Old man Bieman’s wife was from Boston. Her family was loaded, if you know what I mean. She never did fit in too well around here. My mama told me she was mighty uppity for the wife of a rancher.”
She went on. “Back in those days, it was as true as it was today—you never asked how much land a rancher owned, or how many head of cattle. It just wasn’t done.”
Jace nodded; Vi was right. Unless you were plannin’ to buy a place, it wasn’t polite to ask those kinds of questions.
“That was her first mistake. Comin’ into town, braggin’ about her husband’s ‘holdings,’ as she called ’em. Wanted a big, fancy, East Coast-style house, too. Walt was close to thirty when they married, and all he had at the time was the land. It was her money that got that house built.”
“I’ve been workin’ on the main floor. Anything on the second floor for me to unearth?”
“Not on the second floor so much as the attic.”
“Attic? I don’t remember seein’ access to it.”
“There’s an access door, probably painted over years ago, at the top o
f the back staircase. Used to be a set of pull-down stairs, unless Beiman took ’em out. If he did, get yourself a ladder.”
“What’s up there?” he asked.
“Can’t say for sure. Some of what I heard might be true, but most is probably just rumor.”
“I’m not gonna find any dead bodies, am I?”
Vi laughed. “Goodness, no, but I heard there are some treasures boarded up in there.”
By the time he finished the second piece of pie Vi fetched for him, she’d told him all she knew about Walt’s wife, Beatrice.