The Havenford Mysteries’ returns with Chapter 2: 'The Missing Light'

Welcome back to “The Havenford Mysteries” series by local author R.A. Coscia. Installment two of "The Holiday Heirloom" is called "The Missing Light." A new chapter will be published each week in The Beacon.

It did not take Aunt Mae long to arrive at the shop. Her appearance was as disheveled as her mental state. She stood in front of the broken shop window with Officer Caleb Turner wringing her hands, a look of worry etching wrinkles into her face.

“Now, Ms. Mae, I need you to take a deep breath and calm yourself. You need to look around the shop and tell me if anything else is missing besides the Founder’s Light.” Officer Turner gently placed his hand on my aunt’s shoulder, looking her directly in the eyes, willing her to calm down. “There is work to be done, Ms. Mae. I need you to focus.”

She nodded, took a deep breath, and started toward the counter and the cash register. I picked up Beans and walked her to the back office, gently closing the door behind me. When I returned to the front, I heard Aunt Mae confirming to Caleb “Nothing else is missing. Everything is in its place. Nothing appears to even have been moved.”

“Ms. Mae, I just want to confirm your statement,” Officer Turner said, taking out his notepad. “The only thing that is missing from your store is the Founder’s Light?”

Aunt Mae tightened her lips, took a deep breath and nodded. “That is correct, Officer Turner.” She turned her eyes toward me, her eyebrows drawing inward. She reached her hand out to touch mine — a familiar gesture from my childhood when she could fix all my issues with a hug. Instinctively, I pulled her into my arms. She rested her head on my shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh. “This has been all too much for me this morning. If you don’t mind, I am going to the office to calm myself and check in on Beans.”

I released her, and she disappeared down the back hallway.

“A word if you don’t mind Miss Cora?” Officer Caleb said, turning toward me. We both walked toward the front, where the broken window was letting cold air rush in. Caleb leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Miss Cora, I’m going to check the local businesses to see if anyone has surveillance footage of last night. Do you recall anything or anyone strange yesterday interacting within or near the shop?”

“Nothing in particular; the day was so festive with the parade.” I paused to think. “But the day before, a woman came into the shop and overheard Aunt Mae telling me the lore of the Founder’s Light. She left in a huff. It was the only thing that seemed out of the ordinary.”

“Can you tell me anything in particular about this woman?” Officer Caleb had been taking quick notes but stopped to look me in the eye.

“She had a honeybee tattoo on her neck, just under her left ear.” I reached up to tap the same spot on my neck.

“Thank you, Miss Cora. I’ll follow up to see if there’s anything there, as well as with the cameras.” Officer Turner opened the door; the bell rang gently. “It is odd though.” He stopped and turned back toward me. “Most of the glass is outside. Usually when someone breaks a window, the glass falls inside. Perhaps it was the chilly wind last night.” He paused, then tipped his hat. “You take care now.”

And with that, I was alone in the shop, cold air chilling my skin and making my breath visible. I turned the open sign off and left a note on the door: Be back in 15 minutes. I needed to head to the hardware store to see if the owner, Walt, could nail up some plywood.

One hour later, the front window was boarded up, and the shop was filled to the brim with people. The coffee orders were simple; patrons were here for the gossip, not their caffeine fix. As I poured cup after cup of black coffee, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of conversations.

“I sure hope Ms. Mae is alright. This has to have given her quite a fright.”

“I can’t believe she was just displaying a town antique out in the open like that for years. This was bound to happen.”

“I heard The Light could be worth thousands!”

“It should’ve been in the museum, not the basement of this old shop.”

“The woman with the honeybee tattoo? I saw her too. Didn’t smile at anyone.”

“The tree lighting is only a few weeks away. I can’t imagine what the mayor will come up with to replace our tradition.”

Thankfully, I had sent Aunt Mae home to rest after returning from the hardware store. The day seemed to stretch on forever, with a constant flow of customers and whispered conversations. When I finally switched the sign to closed, I was mentally and physically exhausted.

I finished sweeping and tidying the shop, then flopped down into one of the big plush chairs by the fire, a hot honey chamomile latte in my hands. Beans padded out into the main room, chirping her happy noises. I became lost in the small flames of the fire, trying to piece together everything I’d overheard today. It didn’t make sense to me that the Founder’s Light went missing as part of a random break-in. It is too well-known in the town. The theft had to be a targeted event. I just couldn’t understand why or, more importantly, who.

A tapping noise broke my focus. Beans was near the hearth, playing with a loose floorboard. I got up to inspect it, wondering if it was something Walt could fix when he returned with new glass. As I bent down, I noticed a piece of paper sticking up from beneath the board. I pulled it free, brushing Beans away as she reached for it like a treat. The paper was old, faded yellow with time, and only the bottom portion of a letter remained. All that was left was the final thought. In beautiful cursive, it read: “The Light, it’s too precious. Keep it hidden until peace returns — M.”

My mind spun with possibilities. A knock at the door startled me, and I turned and found Officer Turner waving from outside and pointing to the locked door.

“Miss Cora,” he greeted as I let him in. “I wanted to wait until after closing to catch back up. I know it is late, so I’ll make it quick.”

He was all business this evening, straight back, firm voice. I nodded.

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find any finger prints on the glass. As for cameras, Winslow’s Florist has none, and the ones at The Book Nook were malfunctioning and captured nothing. That is small town security for you,” he said with a weak smile. “And finally, the woman with the tattoo. While this may border on gossip instead of detective work, her name is Eleanor Whitcombe. She recently moved to the area, onto the family homestead. I wasn’t able to connect with her yet, but Evie at The Book Nook said she stopped in after the parade asking for books on family heirloom laws.”

“Whitcombe … that sounds familiar?” My brain was searching for a connection, just beyond its reach.

“The Whitcombes were one of the original founding families of Havenford. Edward Whitcombe was the town’s first mayor.”

“And Margaret, his wife, gave my ancestor Lydia the Founder’s Light to keep, correct?” I asked, raising my eyebrow, hoping he saw the same connection I did.

“I believe so — or so the legend says.” He scribbled something into his notebook, snapped it shut and turned on his heel. “Miss Cora, you take care of yourself. I will let you know if I learn anything.”

The bell rang faintly as he slipped out.

I picked up the partial letter. Was it referring to the Founder’s Light? If so, why had someone wanted it hidden? Had it been placed here during the break-in? Was it a clue I needed to give to Officer Turner?

Beans wound between my ankles, I stared at the spot where the Founder’s Light had stood just yesterday. My mind felt full, too many threads tangled together. It was a task I would have to tackle another day, maybe after a good night’s sleep. For now I slid the note in the office for safe keeping and locked up.

Monday, I would make a trip to the library to see if any records could help me decipher the letter.