Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

42. Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Thirty-Nine

M aureen had tried to find the owner of the lost medal, which she continued to carry around on her. Never one to be considered superstitious, she thought of this medal as sort of a good luck charm, though she hated the term. It meant something to her that she was the one who found it. As if it was meant to be. She scoured the lost-and-found section in The Lavender Bay Chronicles for months, to no avail. She’d even placed an ad of her own and received no replies. She posted a photo on her rarely used Facebook page, and although it received a lot of likes and comments, no one came forward to claim it. At the post office, she tacked up a notice on the corkboard, but again, nothing. Crickets. She showed it to everyone she knew but was met with blank stares.

If everything else had been all right in her life, this lost medal wouldn’t even have been a blip on her radar, but it bothered her that someone was out there missing their medal. It might have held significance for them. As for herself, the medal depicting St. Anthony, the finder of lost things, gave her an inexplicable sense of comfort.

In her quest to locate the owner, she showed it to her mother, lamenting the fact that she was no further ahead in her search. As usual, Louise took a practical stance. “It’s obviously very old as evidenced by how worn it is. Of course, the lake will do that. But whoever lost it is probably long gone. I would consider this a case of finders keepers. But why don’t you take it down to Aunt Gail and see if she can help you?”

“Would she know anything about a religious medal?”

Louise shrugged. “You won’t know until you ask. The things that Gail knows would surprise you.”

Maureen nodded. “I’ll take a walk over there.”

“Go now, her afternoons can be quiet.”

Maureen would have preferred to walk, but it was raining, so she took the car. Her aunt’s antique shop was located on the corner of Main Street and Pine, but there was no parking on either, so she ended up a block away on Cedar. She got out of the car, opened her umbrella with a click of the button, and covered her head as she made a run for Prime Vintage.

The shop was lit up by the various chandeliers and light fixtures hanging from the ceiling at different heights. They cast a bright golden hue over all the paintings and gave the antique furniture a glossy shine. The place smelled fusty, of old things and furniture that had long outlasted its owners.

Rufus the retired bloodhound was ahead of her, waddling toward the back of the shop, his tawny ears dragging on the ground. He paid no notice to Maureen. Gail was at the back counter, putting a new consignment of jewelry into the glass case. She wore a colorful dress of purple, turquoise, and green, and a pair of Skechers on her feet.

“Maureen!”

“Hi, Aunt Gail.”

Rufus shuffled off to the back room behind the counter.

“Your dinner’s there, Rufus.” Gail looked at Maureen and asked, “How’s Everett doing?”

Maureen shrugged and sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine. Apparently he’s somewhere in Lavender Bay, but I don’t know where.”

Aunt Gail nodded. “Your mother said Lance knows where he is. That’s good. That way he can keep an eye on him.”

“I wish he would come to his senses and come home.”

“He will. He’s an intelligent kid and someday, he’ll wake up. Unfortunately, with addiction, sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you can change.”

Maureen tilted her head. “You sound like you have experience with this.”

Aunt Gail shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life.”

She didn’t elaborate, and Maureen didn’t push.

“I wanted to ask you,” Gail said, “has my daughter roped you into joining her bowling team?”

“She has,” Maureen replied. “You too?”

Her aunt had a concerned look on her face. She stepped back from the counter and held out her hands. “Do I look like a bowler to you?”

Maureen couldn’t help but laugh. “That makes two of us. But I’ve agreed.”

Gail shook her head. “Sometimes, I worry about her. ”

“Aw, don’t, Aunt Gail. Esther is her own person. And if she likes bowling, she likes bowling.”

“She didn’t get that from my side of the family,” Gail said.

“None of us did.”

Her aunt changed the subject. “Take a look at this fabulous jewelry that was part of an estate.” She pulled a ring out from the tray. “Would you look at this beauty.”

The ring, a large rectangular topaz in a gold setting, was still in its original box with the jeweler’s stamp on the lining.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous.”

“It’s about one hundred years old. Art deco.” Aunt Gail turned it around in her hand, admiring it.

“It’s lovely.”

Gail slid the ring onto her finger but couldn’t move it past her knuckle. “I keep trying it on, hoping my fingers have thinned out since the last time I tried, but no luck.”

Maureen laughed.

“Did you want to try it on?” Gail asked.

“No thanks. I’ve got something I was hoping you’d look at.”

Gail set the ring aside. “Let’s see it.”

Maureen pulled out the medal from her pocket and set it on the counter.

Gail frowned and picked it up, turning it over, studying both sides. She looked up at Maureen. “Where did you get this?”

“If you can believe it, I found it on the beach.”

Gail sighed. “These days, I’d believe anything.” She pulled open a drawer behind her and dug through it, pulling out a jeweler’s loupe. She turned on the desk light she kept on the counter, unfolded the loupe, and brought it up close to her eye, picking up the medal with her other hand.

After studying both sides, Gail announced, “It’s a St. Anthony medal. Looks vintage. Made in Italy. The writing is in Italian, but it’s too worn to read it properly.”

“St. Anthony was an Italian saint?”

Gail shook her head. “Portuguese.” She put the loupe and the medal down and stood there and stared. Maureen frowned. Her aunt looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Alarmed, she asked, “Aunt Gail, are you all right?”

“I am. Tell me, how many of this exact type of medal do you think are lost in that lake out there?”

“Honestly, I’d be surprised if there were two.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“What’s the matter? What does it mean?”

Aunt Gail swallowed hard. Maureen was nervous; she’d never seen her aunt at a loss for words before.

“I think this medal belonged to my mother.”