Skeletons in the Attic (A Marketville Mystery Book 1) by Judy Penz Sheluk Page B

had been selected. The maple tree, only slightly larger than a sapling in 1985, would be considerably bigger now, if it still existed. There was no evidence of it on this property, but then again Leith Hampton had said the only thing that grew was the lilac. So it was possible the tree had been here at the time. I placed the four photos back in their envelope, but I didn’t put them back in the coffin. Instead I continued my search to see if anything else had been hidden. Only when I was convinced there was nothing else hidden did I stop to wonder just why my father would have put these pictures inside a coffin with a PVC skeleton. My best guess was that Misty Rivers had talked him into some sort of bizarre ritual. I knew I’d have to talk to her, about this as well as the tarot cards, but I also knew I’d have to think through my approach. Something told me Misty was one very clever operator.
    I looked around the attic, at the two trunks, and what looked to be a large, colorful poster wrapped in bubble plastic. It was getting late and I’d had enough of this attic’s skeletons, real and imagined, for one day. I couldn’t begin to imagine riffling through the trunks for another couple of hours in this dusty, claustrophobic space, and a quick try confirmed my guess that they would be too heavy for me to lift and carry out of the attic. The poster, though somewhat awkward, was light enough. Even if I couldn’t face it today, I could take that back down with me and check it out in the morning. I picked it up and carefully made my way back to the main floor of the house. I wasn’t a psychic, but I did see a large glass of chardonnay in my immediate future.
     
    I meant to ignore the poster until the morning, I really did, but as I sat sipping chardonnay and dipping veggie slices into hummus, it kept calling out to me. I finally relented and got a pair of scissors to cut away the bubble wrap.
    It turned out to be a framed movie poster—the kind you’d find in a theater—for the movie musical Calamity Jane . The poster depicted a hand-drawn Doris Day wearing a bright yellow shirt, pristine rawhide vest and tight-fitting pants, gold cowboy boots, and a wide brim hat. She was standing on top of a saddle with the words Calamity Jane TECHNICOLOR , flicking a whip, while Wild Bill Hickok, played by Howard Keel, stood behind her. The words Yippeeeee! It’s the Big Bonanza in Musical Extravaganza were directly above the whip, with WARNER BROS SKY-HIGHEST, SMILE-WIDEST WILD’N WOOLIEST MUSICAL OF ’EM ALL! at the bottom left.
    One of the few facts I knew about my mom was that she loved fifties-era movie musicals, and this poster seemed to fit the bill. A quick Google query confirmed it. The film had been released in 1953 and included the hit song Secret Love . I thought about the locket from Reid. Was there a connection, or was it merely a coincidence?
    Another Google search took me to a YouTube clip from the movie. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched Doris scamper along with her horse, stop at a tree, and start singing, arms spread wide before stooping down to pick up a daffodil. It got even cornier when she hopped back on her horse, and riding sidesaddle, continued to sing as she made her way back to town. The bottom line was that her secret love was not a secret any longer.
    I knew the Hollywood version of Calamity Jane had been considerably softened, although it had been a couple of decades since I’d done any research, and I’d forgotten most of what I’d learned. I promised myself I’d read up on the real Calamity Jane. I could also bring the poster along with me when I visited Arabella Carpenter. It wasn’t an antique, exactly, but I knew Arabella had an interest in vintage posters. She’d told me about a group of railway and ocean liner posters she’d purchased from a collector in Niagara Falls. True, this didn’t fall into the travel poster category, but it wouldn’t hurt to show her and see what she