Treasure Uncovered (Bellingwood #3) by Diane Greenwood Muir Page B

does," mused Aaron. "Do you want to see the storage room?"
    They walked back and Polly gasped. The destruction that one water heater did was enormous. "I'm so glad she's alright," Polly said.
    She began taking pictures with her phone so she could look at them later. It was going to take her time to figure out what the process would be to ensure that as much of Beryl's work as possible could be salvaged. It looked as if some things were a complete loss, but even as Polly shot pictures, she could see the potential for reconstruction.
    "I'm glad you're here, Henry," she said.
    "I am too, but what do you mean?"
    "Don't you see it? There is so much potential in this space with someone like you doing the work. All of these metal shelving units can be replaced with enclosed cabinetry and she can design drawers that are exactly the right size for her tools. We can build tall, slotted spaces for her blank canvases and over here she can have a small display area. If we put a secretary against this wall, she can have her computer out here."
    Polly continued to walk around the room, talking out loud to herself as she considered more possibilities.
    Henry turned to Aaron, "This one is going to keep me busy for the rest of my life."
    Aaron chuckled. "She has great ideas. I think you've taught her that anything is possible, so you can't complain. It's your own fault."
    "Stop talking about me, I can still hear you. I'm right here, remember?" Polly said.
    Her phone rang. She looked and it was a local number, but she didn't recognize it. "Hello?"
    "Hi Polly. This is Ken Wallers again. Would you have some time this afternoon?"
    "Sure," she replied. "What's up? Tell me you still don't think I had anything to do with Harry's death."
    "Oh. No," he laughed. "That's not it at all. We aren't finding anyone in town who knew him. This is more of a personal conversation than anything professional. Could I stop by about two?"
    "I'll be in the office. Come on in."
    "Thanks. I'll see you then.
    Both Henry and Aaron were looking at her expectantly.
    "That was Ken Wallers. He wants to come over to Sycamore House this afternoon and talk to me. But don't worry, he isn't going to accuse me of murder this time."
    "That's good," Henry said. "I'm not ready to start visiting you in jail. I don't know how I'd ever explain that to people here in town."
    She continued around the room using the phone on her camera but stopped when she heard Len Specek's name. "Do not tell me the two of you are gossiping. I'm so ashamed of you!"
    They had the grace to look embarrassed. "We're not gossiping, are we?" Henry asked Aaron.
    "I wasn't. I wanted to know if you had ever worked with him. He's a pretty good woodworker."
    "That's all?" Polly asked.
    "Uh huh." Aaron said and both of them bobbed their heads up and down.
    "And you accuse women of being terrible gossips. You're the worst because you refuse to admit it for what it is."
    She headed for the front door. "I'm finished here. Is there anything else we need to do?"
    Aaron chuckled, "I think we're done. I'll let you know when the insurance investigator is through and then we can get started cleaning this place up."
    "Thanks," Polly said. "Anybody up for lunch?"
    "You two go on ahead. I've got plenty to do today," Aaron replied.
    She looked at Henry. "Sure. Where are we going? Joe's Diner?" he asked.
    "That sounds fine. I'll meet you there."
    Polly pulled into a parking space in front of the grocery store and was reaching back in to get her phone out of the drink well, when she heard Sylvie's voice.
    "Polly!" Sylvie called as she exited the grocery store.
    "Hi there, what are you doing in town?"
    "They needed some help here today and I ducked out of class early. What happened to Beryl? Is she alright?"
    Polly's face flushed red. It had crossed her mind yesterday to call Sylvie, but in the chaos that followed, she'd completely forgotten.
    "Oh, Sylvie, I'm sorry I didn't call you. She's going to be fine. Burns on the back of her