Clock and Dagger Page 3

  I think that Beckett and Rina were a couple, as well as business partners, but I couldn’t be sure. Beckett had moved into a bed-and-breakfast in Orchard and rented out the entire thing while renovations were under way at the store. Rina had moved into the B and B as well, but the owners weren’t telling tales about the sleeping arrangements. Beckett’s business was helping them pay for a new kitchen, and since an off-season windfall was both unexpected and welcome, they weren’t about to cross him.

  I looked into the cart, double-checking the number of napkins and plates. If worse came to worst, I could always come back to buy more supplies. I tossed in three more packages of purple napkins. I’d rather not have to come back. After tonight, the week just got busier for me.

  I rolled my shoulders back and took a deep breath. I wasn’t really nervous about napkins. Thinking about Beckett Green always made me tense. He was like dozens of people I’d met back in Boston, but I thought I’d left them behind, along with my old life. I pushed my shoulders down and focused on the shopping I needed to do. I tossed two more sleeves of cups into the cart.

  Open house tonight, Caroline’s birthday party after the open house, New Year’s Eve, and the Town Hall celebration, and then the official grand opening of the Cog & Sprocket. I went to the birthday aisle and tossed in a package of “Happy Birthday” napkins and some candles for Caroline’s cake.

  I made my way over to the aisle stocked with serving platters. Nancy Reed had given me a very specific list of platters and bowls she needed. I found the slip of paper with her list and quickly found what she needed. I tossed in a few extras of each, just in case.

  I was winding my way over to the checkout aisle, but got waylaid by the shiny New Year’s decorations. Horns, crackers, clappers, disco balls.

  “Who knew there were so many ways to celebrate the New Year?”

  I looked over my shoulder to see who was speaking and started at the sight. The man towered over me, which was tough to do, considering I was five-ten. He had a wide-brimmed black fedora pulled down low on his forehead and wore dark glasses that covered the upper part of his face. I tried not to stare at the scars that sliced his pale right cheek, but it was hard not to. He was dressed all in black, a black shirt and tie peeking out from the top of his black trench coat, black jeans hitting the top of his black cowboy boots. The wavy gray hair that touched the back of his collar was the only variation on the dark theme, and it did nothing to make him less imposing. Despite myself, I shivered.

  I turned back to the display. “I know,” I said, trying to sound friendly. “I’m beginning to think my party will be lacking if I don’t at least get some paper horns!”

  “Sounds like you’re planning a big party,” he said.

  “Sort of,” I said. The business owner in me almost invited him to the open house. Almost. Something made me hold back.

  “Say, is that you, here in the paper?” he asked, pulling a copy of the Marytown Shopper out of his pocket. I took it from him and unfolded the paper. The picture had been taken last week and included all of us working on the POL project. I scanned it quickly and noted that it mentioned the open house.

  “It is,” I said. “How did you recognize me?”

  “That red hair of yours stands out,” he said, smiling. I hoped he didn’t see me shiver. His smile held no warmth, especially since I couldn’t see his eyes. He held his hand out, and I handed him the paper.

  “Hey, Ruth, how’s it going?” Ben called from a few aisles away. “You won’t believe the cover of the Shopper.”

  “He showed it to me,” I said, turning back to the man behind me. He was gone.

  “Who?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking around and lowering my voice. I couldn’t see him anywhere. “This man started talking to me and showed me the paper.”

  “Did you know him?” Ben asked.

  “I didn’t. But it was weird. He almost seemed to know me.” I shivered again. “He had the picture from the paper, maybe that was it. I know this sounds strange, but I got a bad feeling from him. He was a little creepy,” I said.

  “Point him out if you see him again. In the meantime, let’s finish up here. I called Aunt Flo and told her about the paper. She said we’d better double up on the paper goods. She also wanted us to stop by the store and get another tray or two of hors d’oeuvres for Caroline’s party, just in case we end up inviting more folks.”

  “Good idea. I’ll get some more ‘Happy Birthday’ napkins too. Nadia said she’d get us some publicity, but who’d have guessed that we’d be on the cover of the Marytown Shopper?”

  “Hey, that’s big-time for these parts. C’mon, we also have to grab another dozen copies for Aunt Flo. I want to leave some here, so we’ll need to try the liquor store down the street.”

  chapter 3

  An hour later, Ben and I drove up to the back of the stores, ready to unload. The Cog & Sprocket was at the edge of downtown, on the corner across from the church and the town graveyard, just on the other side of the bridge. It butted up to the utility road that ran parallel to the river, which all of the businesses used for parking and loading along the back of the shops. Since my store was on a corner, I could walk around and peer at Beckett’s store across the street. Or not. Today, I was just as happy to avoid seeing it.

  “Let me help you get this in the store,” Ben said.

  “I can hear Blue barking from here,” I said, looking toward his shop. “He probably wants to go out—go ahead and get him.”

  “You’re sure?” Ben smiled and started to back up toward his door.

  “Positive. But wait, take the trays of food with you. Make sure that Blue can’t get at them.”

  “We’re going to use the shop as a food staging station. I’ll put them in there. Don’t worry, it’s a no-Blue zone. The river isn’t, though, so I’m going to go up and give him a good run before he gets cooped up again.”

  The river had been both the lifeblood of Orchard and the cause of its near death. The currents had powered several mills, providing both power and water for crops and livestock. But then Orchard had almost been wiped off the map in the early part of the 1900s by a particularly horrifying flood. She’d been rebuilt over time, but most people had moved. Some well-placed dams helped control the river, but Orchard had never regained its prominence in the Berkshires.

  I picked up as many of the shopping bags as I could and walked up the back stairs to the shop. I was halfway up when the back door swung open. Nancy Reed stood in the doorway, outlined by the warm glow of the workroom. She looked more like Moira’s sister than her mother. Nancy’s dark brown hair was flecked with gray, there were laugh lines on her face, and her figure was a little more filled out. But the brown eyes were the same, framed by dark lashes and strong brows. She didn’t wear makeup; she didn’t need it. Nancy treated me like her own daughter, which gave me no end of pleasure.

  “There you are! Great timing—we just got the food loaded into the barbershop until the party. Pat is out buying more ice for drinks. I’d have thought by now we’d have some snow. Always so handy for keeping bottles cold during parties. Anyway, why don’t you hand the bags up to me,” she said, leaning over the top of the stairs.

  “Are you sure?”

  “They’re paper, aren’t they? The stairs are what kill me, not the lifting.”

  I handed her the bags, and she passed them to someone behind her. It didn’t take us long to unpack the entire contents of the SUV.

  “What’s this?” Nancy asked, looking in the last bag and holding up the birthday napkins. “Great, glad you remembered them. I’ll hide these till later. Remind me that I put them in the old grandfather case. We want to keep this a surprise.”

  Nancy Reed and I had decided not to tell Caroline about the birthday celebration we had planned for her later tonight. Caroline was a private person and wouldn’t even let us post her picture on the website, never mind having a fuss made over her birthday. I’d given in to n
o picture on the website, but I was going to make a fuss about her birthday, albeit a small one.

  I’d stayed with Caroline while the Cog & Sprocket was being renovated. Not really with her. Though there was plenty of room at the cottage, Caroline was desperately allergic to Bezel, the cat I’d inherited along with the shop. Bezel and I had become a unit, so I stayed in the barn. This wasn’t a hardship. The barn only looked like a barn, to sidestep some building ordinance in Orchard. Inside, it had a fully functioning workshop, temperature-controlled storage, and a studio apartment for guests. The barn was built with one side facing the lake, and that side was full of windows. The views were stunning, and Bezel and I were very happy during our stay. At first I’d kept to myself, but soon Caroline and I had fallen into a routine of having dinner together, and we’d become friends.

  I carried the last bag into the Cog & Sprocket and closed the door tightly behind me. I looked out toward the front of the shop and smiled at the sight. The renovations down here had been limited, but significant to the operations. Basically, we’d opened it all up and replaced walls with sliders that could be locked into place. The air-filtering system had been upgraded, since dust was the enemy of clock and watch repair. And we’d built a painting booth so that small clocks could be refinished without asphyxiating everyone else. Larger pieces would be worked on out at the barn. Given the huge inventory G.T. and Caroline had bought last summer, there was still a preponderance of clocks on display, and in storage. But now the customer visiting the Cog & Sprocket could come in and browse at their leisure. I was hoping to make the shop a destination where people could come and fall in love with clocks.

  “Did you buy out the store?” Nancy asked as she unloaded the bags, putting the contents into different piles. Nancy Reed was a force, but a force for good. She and her husband Pat worked for, or with, most of the shops on the POL cards. I knew she was as nervous as the rest of us about the open house, and whether or not we could pull it off.

  “I bought enough for all three events this week: tonight’s open house, the New Year’s Town Hall celebration, and the opening of the Cog & Sprocket. So, yes, I sort of did buy out the store. Is it wrong to hope we run out?”

  Nancy laughed. “My fear is always to not have enough food, but at the same time, too many leftovers make me feel like a failure. Wish we knew how many folks to expect tonight.”

  “Did you hear about this?” I said, pulling a copy of the Marytown Shopper out of one of the bags.

  “Wow, isn’t that something. Your hair looks great in this picture. Does Nadia know?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, self-consciously patting my hair, which was knotted on the top of my head. “She didn’t say anything to me if she did.”

  “Does Nadia know what?” Nadia said, coming down from upstairs. During the renovations, we’d created a small workspace in the attic as an office space. Since the shop was more open, computer work that needed quiet now had a dedicated place. Besides, it got Nadia out of public view, since customer service wasn’t her forte. Space was tight, but Pat Reed had created a hallway upstairs, with a lot of built-in storage for different clock pieces. It was accessible to everyone in the shop, but safe from nosy customers. The stairs to the attic were off the hallway, as was the door to my apartment.

  “Nadia, did you know the Marytown Shopper published the story you pitched?” I handed the younger woman the paper. It was hard to read her eyes behind her horn-rimmed glasses, but I did detect a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  “Cool,” she said quietly.

  “Really cool,” I agreed. “Great job. Let’s hope it helps bring people out tonight. Did I read somewhere that the temperature is going to drop?”

  “It is going to be in the thirties. Not bad at all by New England standards. We’ve been working the social media pretty hard. I think there will be a great crowd.” Nadia sounded happier than I’d ever heard her. Letting her run the marketing for this promotion had obviously been a good move. Honestly, it had been my only move, since no one else could do it. I’d put a lot on her twenty-year-old shoulders, but she’d carried it all well.

  “I think so too. Could you help us down here?”

  “She’s been a big help already,” Nancy said. “She dropped off the cards and the displays, plus some postcards, to the library and the Sleeping Latte. Even helped some of us old folks understand how to use that little doohickey on the back of the card.”

  “QR code,” Nadia said, laughing. “We want to make it really easy for everyone to use, no matter how comfortable they are with technology.”

  “You’ve done a good job.”

  “We’ve all done a good job,” Ada Clark said. She took a breath and sat down on a stool.

  “Ada, I didn’t know you were here. Are you all right?” I asked. Ada’s first baby was due in three weeks, but I for one didn’t know how she was going to last that long. Everything about Ada was tiny, except for her belly, which seemed to grow every time I saw her. I could tell she was uncomfortable, though she’d never tell anyone. She and her husband, Mac, ran the Corner Market pretty much alone, and she was determined to keep working for as long as possible. Their business needed her.

  “I’m fine. I came down here to help, but I guess I missed the unloading of the car.” Ada rubbed her belly and closed her eyes. She had dark circles underneath them, which were highlighted by the paleness of her skin. “I think I need to get a nap in before tonight, though. Nancy, are we all set?”

  “We are,” Nancy said. “Each store is part of the scavenger hunt Nadia and I organized for tonight. See these cards? Tonight only, if folks go to all six locations on the POL cards and get an employee in the store to sign off, they get a goody bag. When we give out a goody bag, Nadia wants us to post a picture of the winner to social media. She’s walked us all through that, but you don’t need help with that, do you?” I shook my head “no” and bit my inner cheek to keep from laughing. If Nadia could get Nancy to post pictures to Facebook she had more powers than I thought. “Anyway, we’ve made a hundred and fifty goody bags, and we’re leaving a few in each store.”

  “A hundred and fifty?” I said. “Isn’t that a lot?”

  “We have no idea. We have everything to make more if we need to. If we don’t need them all, we’ll stick a Cog & Sprocket sticker on them and use them for your grand opening. Nadia, why don’t you walk Ada back to her shop and help carry her postcards?”

  “Aye aye, Captain Nancy. Then I’m going to find Tuck, go home, and get dressed. I’ll be back by four to help set up.” Nadia almost seemed excited. My apathetic, eye-rolling Nadia. Will wonders never cease?

  chapter 4

  “Ruth, what are you going to do now?” asked Nancy, arranging the last of the goody bags beneath one of the counters. “How about a cup of tea?”

  I thought about the dozen things I had on my to-do list and was about to rattle off a few, but then I really looked at Nancy’s face. She obviously wanted to talk about something, but unlike her normal straightforward behavior, she was hemming and hawing. I decided to let her off the hook and make it easier for her to talk.

  “Sure, I could always go for a cup of tea. Let’s go upstairs.”

  I grabbed my coat and bag and brought both with me. I unlocked the door to the apartment and held it open for Nancy.

  “Oh my. Doesn’t this look wonderful?” she said.

  “You were here two weeks ago, helping me paint.” I laughed.

  “Hey, I was just painting, which I like to do, and second-guessing your color choices. Which I also like to do. I had no idea it would all end up looking like this.”

  I loved my new apartment. When I’d moved in, the space was cluttered with boxes, furniture, clocks in midrepair, walls that were in the process of being removed, and antiquated fixtures. Even though Caroline said I could stay in the barn as long as I wanted, the renovation had to be both fast and thrifty. I was anxious to move in above the store and to be able to walk do
wn the steps to work. So the choices we made were to finish taking down the walls, change out the kitchen fixtures but keep the footprint, refinish the floors, and paint the walls. I’d decided on an open floor plan, with a movable screen that I could put in front of the bedroom area if I had guests. The only splurge I’d made was in the bathroom. I kept the old clawfoot tub, but had Pat Reed put in a separate shower. It was an indulgence, but heaven compared to the low, awkward shower that it replaced. If I was going to live here, there would have to be some special tall-girl accoutrements.

  “I’m glad you kept the old woodwork,” Nancy said. “I was afraid you were going to paint over it.”

  “I couldn’t—it is too beautiful,” I said as I set the kettle on the stove and chose my least chipped mugs down from the cabinets. “I remember my grandmother explaining that Harry, her father-in-law, kept tradesmen working during the Great Depression by offering them odd jobs in the shop if business slowed down. The cabinetmakers started to do upgrades around here, which is why there are so many great appointments.”

  “It all shows really wonderfully. As I said, I was doubting your color choices, but you obviously know what you’re doing.”

  I blushed with pride. I had used shades of white on most of the walls. But I had accent walls helping define the space. Tomato red in the kitchen area, blue in the bedroom area, and yellow in the sitting area—just one wall of each. The colors, along with black and white, were used in fabric and accent pieces as well. The furniture was old, but the patterns were modern.

  “It’s a tiny space, but it’s just me these days, so it’s fine. Whoops, sorry, it’s me and Bezel.” As if on cue, the large gray beauty came out from the bedroom area, stretching as she walked forward and came over to say hello.