The Second Chance Bookstore

Maddie Fitzpatrick’s discovery of the book was entirely unintentional. She’d been walking aimlessly through the city streets when, without warning, the light drizzle had turned to steady downpour. She contemplated ducking inside somewhere for a coffee—or something stronger—when she walked past a store she’d never seen before.

The Second Chance Bookstore was tucked tidily away between a cafe and a convenience store, its grimy windows revealing a haphazard display of books. When Maddie pulled open the door she was met with a comforting blast of warmth; inside the air smelled musky, the presence of dust and old books blending into a scent reminiscent of autumn woodsmoke.

A small chime hanging from the door signalled her arrival, but the desk at the front was empty and there was no sign of movement from within the shelves. Music played in the background, some sort of lilting instrumentals that reminded her of her native Ireland, and Maddie drifted down the first aisle, letting her fingers trail over the books as she walked.

In this time of Kindles and tablets it had been ages since she’d been in a used bookstore, and she realized she’d missed it. The mystery of discovering new treasures. Reaching the counter with at least five, maybe ten, books in her hands, then getting home and having to decide which one to read first.

As Maddie rounded a dimly lit corner she let out a shriek, startled by a large shape looming through the darkness.

“Sorry, sorry,” a croaky voice sang out, and with a click another light flashed on, revealing a hanging bulb and an elderly man in a cheerful yellow sweater. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. I was in the back unpacking some boxes and I didn’t hear the door.”

“No problem,” Maddie managed, holding a hand to her racing heart.

The man eyed the books in her hand. “Interesting choices,” he said, raising one bushy white eyebrow. Sensing a kindred spirit in the young, dark-haired woman, the man handed her a wire basket. “Here, carry them in this. Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

“Thanks.” Her pulse returning to normal at his calm, easy demeanour, Maddie took the basket from him. He smiled, disappearing towards the front of the shop as she continued her slow, methodical browsing.

With her green eyes roving over the shelves, she almost missed the small, leather-bound book. Just like the shop it lived in it was tucked away from eyesight; Maddie wouldn’t have noticed it at all, except as she ran her fingers along the spines its soft, velvety cover caught her attention. Slipping it out from between an atlas and an old geography textbook, she flicked it open.

Something slid out, spiralling down towards the old carpet. Maddie bent to pick it up, unfolding a piece of newspaper that was yellowed with age. The date identified it from 1968, and the headline read,

“Bandits escape with over $60,000 worth of gems!”

Quickly scanning the rest of the page she learned a trio of robbers had held-up a jewelry store in downtown Vancouver. Intrigued, she turned her attention to the black notebook. The front page was blank, no name written on the space where it belonged. The second page was empty. So was the third. Her interest waning, Maddie rifled her thumb quickly through the rest of the pages. Towards the centre of the book, a glimpse of blue caught her eye. She had to page back to find it, but there it was:

“Our Lady of Lourdes Church, Lillian Drive. Ten steps back from the Maple tree, and then another eight to the right.”

That was it.

Maddie stared at it for a moment longer, then tucked the notebook into the basket. Hurrying to the counter, she handed it over to the shopkeeper. When he got to the notebook he paused, looking at both the front and the back. Then he opened it, making the same gestures Maddie had to fan through the empty pages.

“That’s strange,” he murmured. “Normally I only take books. Good quality, though,” he added, tapping it on the desk. His piercing blue eyes met Maddie’s and she almost shared the message with him, but then he spoke, breaking the moment.

“On the house,” he decided, giving her a grandfatherly smile. “But if you write anything that gets published I expect you to drop a signed copy off here.”

“I will,” she promised.

He placed all the items into a canvas bag and handed it over to her, carefully slipping in a business card. “I hope to see you again soon.”

The rain was still coming down but Maddie ignored it, skirting the bobbing umbrellas and splashing through puddles until she reached her small apartment. When she was safely inside she pulled out the newspaper article. A quick search on her laptop informed her one Evan Peters had been arrested at an intersection located two blocks from the Second Chance Bookstore, after fleeing the police. He was charged in the robbery of Miranda’s Fine Gems, which had been committed three days prior.

The stolen items were never recovered.

Evan Peters refused to give up his accomplices and died in prison in 1975, ten days before he was due to be released on parole. Maddie stared at her computer, then, after a moments deliberation, typed in “Our Lady of Lourdes, Vancouver.”

Nothing.

Next she searched for Lillian Drive, which brought up an address in the suburbs. Checking the time and then the train schedule, Maddie figured she could get there within the hour if she hustled. Without stopping to think it through she grabbed her bag, flying back out the door.

Joining the queue of people on the train, Maddie wondered what she was doing. She wasn't Nancy Drew. This was real life, not a mystery novel where a clue in a book would lead to buried treasure. She looked down at the notebook again, brushing her fingers against the soft leather.

Still…

Maddie got off at what she estimated was the closest stop, looking dubiously around. Sunset wasn’t for another two hours but the sky was already darkening, heavy clouds hanging low over the surrounding mountains. When she turned onto Lillian she discovered it was a busy residential street, boasting large houses and streets lined with numerous cars. With no real destination in mind she started walking, enjoying the adventure more than she’d expected. The sight of a tall cross in the distance sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach, and she picked up her speed. Finally, she was close enough to read the sign posted out front.

“St. David’s Welcomes You!”

Her heart sank, the rain suddenly feeling colder and wetter than it had only moments before. Letting out a heavy sigh, Maddie trudged towards the front door, praying it was open. Pun intended, she thought to herself with a wry grin, doing her best to shrug off the disappointment.

Someone must have been listening because it opened easily, and she found herself in what looked like a waiting room. The middle-aged woman behind the desk slid her glasses up her nose as she looked up at Maddie, her mouth forming an “o” of surprise. She glanced at her watch, and then back again. “Evening mass isn’t until eight,” she said, her voice full of apology.

“Oh! Um, I was hoping I could ask you a question?”

The woman straightened, clasping her hands together. “Of course. St. David’s is proud to welcome those searching for answers.”

“Well,” Maddie said, blushing a little. “I was reading something and it mentioned a church located on Lillian, but it was called Our Lady of Lourdes. I tried to look it up online, but nothing came up.

“Good Heaven’s! Our Lady of Lourdes shut down years ago. Years!”

“But the church did exist?”

“Why yes, dear, you’re standing in it right now!” The woman gave her a gentle smile. “Father Michael had it completely restored five years ago. Was there a reason why you were looking for that church in particular?”

“Ummm.” Maddie wracked her brain, kicking herself for not coming up with a plausible reason to be there. Some Nancy Drew I am. “My grandmother,” she improvised. “I’m working on a genealogy project and in her diary she mentioned going to the church and sitting beneath a Maple tree. I was hoping to find it, so I could add in a photo.”

The woman beamed back at her. “Well the tree is still standing,” she assured her. She glanced outside, her face dimming a little as she took note of the weather. “You’re welcome to go take a look,” she offered, clearly hoping to stay warm and dry inside.

“That would be great.” Maggie smiled back at her and the woman—Karen—ushered her into a large room filled with pews, then through a pair of double glass doors to where a red Maple tree stood guard over the church. Thanking her, Maddie pulled up her hood and picked her way carefully through the mud towards the tree. A black iron fence with pointed stakes framed the property, though some areas were rusted with age and wear. A discreet glance backwards told her Karen had disappeared back inside, so, pulling out the little black book, Maddie did her best to follow the written instructions.

When she came to what she thought was the right spot she looked around again, but there was only the rain, dripping steadily from the leaves above. Maddie crouched, grimacing as she used her hands to dig into the cold earth. Dirt caked uncomfortably beneath her nails, but it was softened from the rain and moved easily enough. A large bush hid her from sight as she worked, but the light was slowing disappearing as day set into dusk.

Even if there was something here, it could be buried six feet deep, Maddie realized. Knowing time was limited, she grabbed a broken branch lying nearby and used the pointed end to pierce the dirt. Concentrating on a three-square foot area, Maddie pushed it as far as she could manage into the soil. When she was hit with resistance after only a few tries she thought it must be a root, but a dull clink sent her pulse racing.

Casting one last furtive look around she bent down, clearing the remaining dirt away to reveal a large metal case. Maddie pulled it out, surprised at how heavy it was. Stuffing it into her backpack, she walked around the outside of the church, poking her head through the doors to quickly thank Karen for her help.

When she was a few blocks away Maddie sat down on an empty bench, wiping her hands on her jeans before opening up her bag. The catch on the case was jammed, and it took her what felt like forever to finagle it open. When she finally got the courage to look inside she could do nothing but stare.

Not gems. Cash.

Cold, hard—slightly weathered—cash.

When Maddie got back to her apartment she showered, standing under the hot water until her shivering stopped and the dirt underneath her nails was gone. Only then did she count the money. Twenty-thousand dollars.

The next day she returned to the Second Chance Bookstore. The same old man was working, his eyes brightening when he saw her. “Back already!”

“This is for you,” she said, placing a gift-wrapped box on the desk. “Turns out there was a price tag on the notebook after all. This should cover it.”

When the old man opened the bag he could do nothing but gape down at it. By the time he looked up, the mysterious young woman was gone, the only sign she’d been there at all the gentle swinging of the chime on the door.