“This is the part where I’m supposed to cry, isn’t it?” she mumbled against my shirt in a tone that came off very close to miserable.
I giggled and set her away from me, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Crying doesn’t necessarily go hand in hand with sadness, Coop. Just because you can’t cry, doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”
She stared at me, her green gaze intense and though still oddly blank as ever. “Krystle Carrington always cries when she’s sad. But I don’t understand how to make water fall from my eyes, Trixie. Why can’t I do that? I’ve read crying makes you feel better, that it helps ease the pain. Maybe I’ll never be able to ease the pain I feel right here in my belly.” She put a hand on her stomach to show me where it hurt.
I hated that she hurt this way. “Aw, Coop. I don’t know if that will ever happen, but it’s not as though you’re some heartless lug. You’re not laughing about Mitzy’s death either. So you can’t cry tears—”
“Fair maiden! Fair maiden, wherefore art thou? I need you!” Solomon yelled from the front of the store as he raced toward us, his voice full of the anxious panic I’d become so familiar with, his feet clomping against the concrete floor.
That he was addressing me with his infamous medieval speak meant he was upset and fearful. It also meant I should respond in kind.
The chair scraped as I pushed it out, giving Coop one last squeeze of her hand before I called, “My liege, I’m in the break room. Have you come for sustenance? I have a delightful bowl of split pea soup sire Knuckles made last eve.”
I tried to get Solomon to come in every day for a warm meal, especially when it was cold and rainy, but it wasn’t always easy. He distracted so easily and if something caught his eye, he was sure to take off and forget to eat.
Solomon skidded to a halt, his Viking hat teetering precariously on his head. Though, I was pleased to note, he smelled of soap and deodorant. Some of what we’d been trying to teach him about good hygiene was sinking in.
His hand flapped in the air as he clutched his new tote bag around his neck. We’d managed to wrestle his old bag from him—it was so torn he was losing things and accusing some of the other men at the shelter of stealing from him.
Also, with this new bag, we could spot him from a mile away which was helpful when you were trying to keep track of a skittish Solomon.
“Fair maiden! I have made a discovery. An important discovery upon my dumpster quest today!” he yelped in my face.
I wrinkled my nose and frowned in disapproval. While we had been successful in getting Solomon to shower each day, we hadn’t been so successful at getting him to quit dumpster diving.
My stomach twisted into a knot. “Oh, Solomon. What have we told you about that? The dumpsters are full of germs. I don’t want you getting sick again. Do you remember how awful that was, and your stay in the hospital? You hated that.”
His hand flapped harder, a sure sign he was agitated. “Forget that, fair maiden. Look what mine eyes have feasted upon!”
His sweet face, lined with his years of living on the streets, turned to mine as he used his other hand to slap the tote around his neck in rapid fashion.
I put my hands behind my back so he knew I wasn’t going to touch him unless he wanted me to, and I tried to look in the bag. “Is it in the tote, Solomon?”
“’Tis, fair maiden!” he said excitedly, his eyes beaming.
“May I be so forward, my liege?” I asked tentatively.
But Solomon yanked the tote from around his neck and pointed inside.
As I looked at the interior of his tote, I saw many things I was quite hesitant to touch, but I didn’t understand what he wanted me to see until he suddenly reached a hand in and pulled out something purple and square, flashing it in front of my eyes.
Coop gasped. “I’ve seen that before,” she said as she jumped up and came closer to inspect the object, holding her hand out to Solomon. “May I see that, Solomon?”
Coop was always so gentle with him, it made my heart burst with pride. She’d taken special care to understand each of the quirks the people she dealt with had in her service to the community. She really studied their habits, likes and dislikes, and set about making them feel comfortable.
Solomon looked at me with wild eyes for only a moment before he handed it to Coop and, for the first time, I realized it was a purse.
Coop popped it open, and her eyes went wide. “I knew it,” she said as she held it away from her so I could see.
Oh, gravy.
Running my hand through my hair, I blew out a long breath. A call to Tansy was unquestionably in order.
Because the purple purse was undoubtedly Glitzy Mitzy’s missing purse.
Chapter 5
I looked to Solomon, wondering how he knew the purse was important. “What made you decide to bring this to me, sire?”
He shrank back against the wall, his eyes darting to the floor. “I knew it belonged to that fancy purple lady. I saw her with it when she went inside the hall.”
Thank goodness we were back to talking like we lived in the twenty-first century. I cocked my head in his direction. “You were at Cobbler Cove Hall last night, Solomon?”
He bobbed his head, putting a hand to his tattered Viking helmet to hold it steady. “Yep, I sure was. I heard Higgs say you were going to be there. I needed to talk to you, so I walked over there. But it was too crowded. So many people. Too many
