Clock and Dagger Page 7

  Not sure. You need him? I texted back.

  All good. Pat is here. See you in three minutes.

  “Are you typing someone?” Caroline arrived by my elbow. Caroline looked as put together as always. Hair in a perfect twist, more gray than brown now that she’d decided to let her natural color show. She was wearing a gray wool sheath dress with a black cardigan. She wore her regular pearl earrings and choker, and smart but sensible black wedge shoes. She was also wearing the brooch I’d made her for Christmas—a combination of cogs and wheels that I’d painted in washed-out shades of red and pink. From a distance it looked a bit like a flower. It was the only pop of color she wore, and I was really pleased she’d made the effort to wear it tonight.

  “Texting. Yes, Ben wants everyone to go outside in five minutes for a surprise.”

  At that moment, Nancy Reed walked through the front door. “Hey, folks, come outside. We’ve got the capper of the evening about to take off! And don’t forget, the Cog & Sprocket opens next week, so come back then!” She went back outside, the Pied Piper of Orchard. I grabbed the basket of clock cookies and made sure everyone had one on their way out. Most folks added them to the tote bags they’d picked up at the library, which were filled with goodies from each of the shops they’d visited tonight. Everyone oohed and aahed and wished us luck with the shop.

  “It looks terrific,” Phyllis Bourdon said, flashing her impish grin. “Honestly, I think more folks were in this shop in the last two hours than walked through the doors over the past ten years. Good for you, Ruth. Thom would be pleased to see this.”

  I laughed. “Now, Phyllis, we both know that he would have hated tonight. But my grandmother would have loved it.”

  “She would indeed. Boy, I still miss her something fierce.” She reached over and squeezed my arm. I blinked back tears and smiled.

  “Me too,” I said. “But Caroline’s terrific.”

  “Yes, she is,” Phyllis agreed. “So are you, Ruth Clagan. So are you.”

  “I’m sorry Howie didn’t make it tonight,” I said.

  “The grandkids wore him out over Christmas. He’ll be here for the opening.”

  “Bring him a cookie, and tell him I said hi. See you next week.”

  Phyllis was the last one out the door, and I glanced over at Caroline, who looked as tired as I felt.

  “Well, that was a resounding success,” she said.

  “You think?”

  “I know. Congratulations, Ruth,” she said, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and squeezing.

  “Congratulations to us all, Caroline. I suppose we should go outside and see what this surprise is all about, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so,” she said, buttoning her cardigan up. “Are you going to get your coat?”

  “I’ll wear G.T.’s jacket,” I said, walking back and taking the wool shirt off the hook. “Are you all set?”

  “I have my wrap,” she said, grabbing the large shawl from behind the counter and wrapping it around her shoulders.” We won’t be out for that long, I shouldn’t imagine.”

  “No, not that long. Remember, we’re having a light dinner afterward.”

  “I don’t know, Ruth, I’m fairly done in. I think I may head home.”

  “You can’t!” I said. Caroline started at my urgency, and I lowered my voice. “Caroline, folks will want to see you.”

  “Ruth, this isn’t about my birthday, is it?” she asked, her hands on her hips. “I told you not to fuss.”

  “Let’s go outside, see the surprise, and then we’ll come back in and enjoy the rest of the surprises.” I held open the door, and Caroline went out, rolling her eyes. I double-checked that I had my keys, and let the door lock behind me.

  There had to be at least a hundred people huddled in the middle of the street. I looked over and thought I saw a very tall figure dressed all in black hovering toward the edge. Was that the guy from the party store? Looked like the Marytown Shopper really worked. I’d need to tell Nadia. I looked for her, but then I heard my name.

  “Ruthie, over here,” Nancy bellowed toward me. Caroline pushed me over, but held back at the edge of the crowd. Though it was dark, the warm glow of the streetlights helped me recognize some familiar faces. I walked toward Nancy, and looked over the crowd toward the dark Been There, Read That store across the street.

  With a wicked grin, Nancy glanced over her shoulder and then back at me.

  “You didn’t shut him down, did you?” I asked.

  “Me? No. That wouldn’t be very neighborly. No, old Beckett didn’t think things through. Remember when he talked Kim Gray into moving the streetlight?”

  “Yes, he wanted one of the gaslights installed closer to his shop.”

  “Right, well, that ran into a snag with the gas line. So, no streetlight. And he hasn’t installed his own outside lights yet. So it was darker than the inside of a pocket over there. Old Beckett’s going to be eating canapés for the next week.”

  “Serves him right. So what’s going on out here?” I asked.

  “Nancy, Ruth, come over here. Please,” Ben called out. “Where’s Caroline?”

  “She’s right there,” I said, looking over to where I’d left her. She wasn’t there.

  “Never mind, you both will do,” Ben’s aunt Flo said. Flo did not need a microphone or megaphone to make her voice heard, which she did now. “Hello, folks. Could I have your attention, please? On behalf of the business owners here in downtown Orchard, we’d like to thank you all for being part of the POL launch tonight. The Program for Orchard Loyalty was the brainstorm of Ruth Clagan, and we’re all thrilled to be part of it. To commemorate the launch, we’re going to have a launch of our own. We’re sorry that Kim Gray couldn’t join us tonight.” A few folks in the crowd giggled. To her credit, Flo kept a straight face, though the sparkle in her eye told the whole story.

  “Where is she, anyway?” a young man shouted. I recognized him as one of the reporters for the Orchard Gazette, our local weekly newspaper. I’d heard rumors that they were going online in the New Year and were looking for more content.

  “I’ve been told that she was called into a dinner meeting in Marytown. Something about a chain store lease?” There were a couple of groans from the crowd. Kim would be extra sorry she missed tonight’s event when she saw the next issue of the Orchard Gazette. Flo was careful to add enough fuel to the fire to scorch the town manager. “We’re delighted that the members of the Board of Selectmen are here, and we’re grateful for their support of our businesses. Folks, if you could all come up here and join us business owners, we’re going to light these paper lanterns and launch them.”

  Pat handed Ben a paper lantern with a flame flickering, Ben handed one to Nancy, and then took another one from Pat and handed it to me. Within a minute, there were twenty lit lanterns glowing in the little square, illuminating the faces of all of the people I had come to love in these few months since I’d settled in Orchard.

  “One, two, three. Happy launch!” Flo said. We all let go of our lanterns and watched as they floated gently into the December night sky. The crowd was silent, and then someone started to clap. Everyone else joined in, and then a few cheers erupted. I looked around and couldn’t help but smile.

  Ben had walked up next to me and squeezed my hand and then, to my dismay, let it go.

  “This is wonderful,” I said, smiling up at him. “Your idea?”

  “No, Mark’s idea. Just wish he was here to help me pull it off. Did he get stuck obsessing about a clock in the back of the Cog all night?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him since this afternoon,” I said, wrapping my grandfather’s old shirt around me tightly.

  “Thankfully, Pat was around and able to help me put these lanterns together. Of course, once we got going I finished three of them, and Pat did the rest. I’m glad you liked it.”

  I leaned up and gave Ben a kiss on his wonderfully square jaw. “The whole night was wonderful.”

  We looked
at each other for a moment too long, and then I broke the mood.

  “Caroline’s not going to last long. She always gets sleepy,” I said. “How about if we serve a reverse dinner and start off with the cake?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ben said, rubbing his hands together. “It’s over in my shop. I’ll go get it.”

  “No, I’ll go. You go gather the troops, especially Nancy and Pat and your aunt Flo. Won’t be a party without them!”

  • • •

  I made my way through the crowd toward the Cog & Sprocket. I loved downtown Orchard, all of its stand-alone buildings that came from different eras, made of different materials and painted different colors, but gathered together to create a town. Ben’s store was built around the same time as the Cog & Sprocket, but it hadn’t fared quite as well. Too many well-intentioned but badly designed additions and changes made it look like a mid-1800s gem with a few cancerous growths. Ben had been working hard to bring the building back, but now that Flo was back in town, anything could happen.

  Ben’s Barbershop and the Cog & Sprocket shared a small parking lot in front of the stores. There was a small path down the center that led to the back alley. I walked down it to the side entrance of Ben’s Barbershop on the right toward the back of the shop. I noticed the door was slightly ajar. Not surprising, since the food had been stored in his shop for the event, but still. I hoped a small animal hadn’t decided to stop by and partake of birthday cake. Blue had been left at Flo’s house for the night, otherwise I wouldn’t have had to worry about that. Blue kept the place protected.

  I pushed open the door and reached toward my left, and then to my right, for a wall switch. There wasn’t one. Of course there wasn’t. Up until a year or so ago, the barbershop had been two separate shops, one for men and one for women. The stores may have been merged, but the building systems were still separate. I stepped into the shop, but I didn’t know it well enough to know where else to look. I took out my cell phone and hit the flashlight app. I did a sweep of the area back near the hair-washing sinks and saw a pile of towels on the floor. No obvious lights. I walked to my right and swept the rest of the store. The closest lights were by the front door, so I made my way over. I bumped into something and almost knocked it over. I dodged a couple of those old standing hair dryers and some carts of rollers. I turned on the front lights and blinked twice to get used to them. Yeesh. Ben needed to work on the lighting in here. These overheads were way too bright, and not very flattering for the shop or, I imagined, to its customers.

  I walked back toward the sinks, hoping that the cake was where Ben had left it. The shop had been the way station for the open house, and it showed. Bottles of ginger ale, bags of ice, paper products, trays of food. We’d stacked them all neatly earlier in the day, but now the debris was strewn all over the shop. We’d need to get a cleanup party together for this.

  The pink cake box was supposed to be over by the sinks. There was a pile of towels on the floor, and I shook my head. What had happened in here? I walked back, but slowed down as I got closer to the pile. There was a shoe peeking out from under a pile of towels that had been toppled over. I peered around, looking for what, or who, the shoe belonged to.

  “Hey, buddy, nap time is over,” I said. Great. Someone was passed out between the sinks. I didn’t think it was that kind of party, but there was always someone. I got closer, and slowed down. The pink box that had contained Caroline’s cake was in a heap facedown on the floor next to the left-hand sink. Terrific, just what I needed. I took a step closer and nudged the foot with my boot. No response. I stepped closer and moved around to the side of the sink near the cake so I could see what pillar of Orchard society I was dealing with.

  “Mark,” I whimpered. Mark Pine was lying on his side, partially covered with towels. If he was asleep, his eyes would be closed, but they weren’t. Instead, they were staring at me, but not seeing me. I stood up quickly and jumped back, almost sliding on the cake that was covering the floor.

  “What’s taking so long?” Ben said, stepping into the shop behind me. “Did someone steal the cake?”

  “Ben, go back,” I said. “Call the police and then find Jeff. We need him here. Now. Something’s happened to Mark. He’s dead.”

  chapter 8

  I stayed with Mark for as long as I could. Not right with him, but outside the barbershop, making sure no one else went in. Ro Troisi had asked me to stay put when she came by, and I had agreed. She was trying to secure the scene before the state police came in and took over. Ben came out of the back door of the Cog & Sprocket and brought me my coat and the pad of paper I’d asked him to get for me after he’d called Jeff.

  “Why don’t you come in here?” he asked.

  “Ro went back to the station to get her gear, and she asked me to stand guard for a few minutes.”

  “Are you all right? Can I do anything?”

  From his strained tone, I could hear how much he needed to be useful, but there was nothing. “No, and no. But thank you. Poor Mark.”

  “‘Poor Mark’ is right. I wonder what happened to him. He’s pretty young to have a heart attack.”

  “Maybe he had a seizure or something,” I said, “and hit his head. I couldn’t tell. That pile of towels was on him so I couldn’t see if he had any injuries.” I hated the way my voice shook.

  “Jeff had to call in the state police, but he’s on his way back.”

  “I know. Ro told me.” I reached into my pocket and took out a pen, clicking it open. I drew some circles on the top sheet of paper to make sure it worked.

  “What’s the paper for?” Ben asked.

  “I watch way too many TV crime dramas,” I said. “I’m going to write down everything I did when I went in the shop, while it’s still fresh in my memory. Just in case.”

  “Just in case?”

  “Just in case it wasn’t an accident.”

  • • •

  Ro returned at the same time as the state police arrived. I watched the turf-war tussle, but it didn’t last long. In the Berkshires, the state police were on call overnight or on weekends. Or they were supposed to be. In the two years Jeff Paisley had been the chief of police, he’d always answered every call.

  It was cold in the back alley between our shops, so I rubbed my arms to generate some heat. The state police officer took my statement and asked me a few questions. He barely introduced himself, and I didn’t ask him to repeat his name. I could have invited him into the Cog & Sprocket, but I didn’t. I sensed he’d move in, and that just wouldn’t do. I’d talk to him now, but I’d wait for Jeff to share any ideas I came up with. The officer ignored Ro, but she didn’t leave. She’d pass on information to Jeff as well. Good woman. He asked about how I’d discovered the body, and some other information about the evening, before coming back to Mark himself.

  “How did you know the victim?” he asked.

  “He works for me, over at the Cog & Sprocket. It’s the clock shop next door.”

  “Did you know him well?”

  “No,” I said, choking up a bit. “I didn’t. He only started working for me about a month ago.”

  “Do you know who his next of kin is?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. Tuck Powers, he works for me as well, he knew Mark from high school. He’d have more information.”

  “What did the victim do for you?”

  “Do for me?” I asked, confused by the question.

  “What did you hire him to do?”

  “To fix clocks. He was a clockmaker. He’d been an apprentice up in Vermont for the past few years and was looking for his next training opportunity.”

  “Does he also fix watches?”

  “No. Not for me, I mean. We’d been talking about that this afternoon—”

  “We?”

  “Mark and I.”

  “Really? Interesting.”

  “Why ‘interesting’?” I asked.

  “Did Mr. Pine have a drug problem?”

  “Drugs?
No, of course not. Not that I knew of anyway,” I said unsurely. Now that I thought about him I didn’t know Mark all that well.

  “You’d be surprised, Ms. Clagan. There’s an epidemic out here.”

  “Not at the Cog & Sprocket. Why do you ask? Do you think he died of an overdose?”

  “No, he was probably strangled,” Ro said.

  “That is not for public consumption,” the officer snapped. “Officer Troisi, perhaps you could help . . .” The officer touched the earpiece he was wearing and then looked back at me. “Got it.” He turned toward me and looked back down at his notes. “Ms. Clagan, Chief Paisley has arrived, and we need to regroup. I have your phone number. There will be more questions, so we’ll need to be in touch. Don’t turn your phone off.”

  “I won’t. Trust me, I want to help however I can.”

  • • •

  I had a text from Ben, asking me to meet everyone at the Sleeping Latte when I was done. I went over to the Cog & Sprocket quickly to double-check the back door. It was locked tight, and I knew the front was. Instead of going down the street, which was packed with crowds and media trucks, I decided to go down the access road. There were police everywhere, setting up lights and walking around. It was only a couple of blocks, but I walked them quickly.

  Poor Mark. I wiped away a tear and tried to remember him alive, rather than staring through me from the floor of the barbershop. I couldn’t. I knew I would eventually. At least I hoped so.

  The back door of the Sleeping Latte was closed, and the shade was drawn over the window. I saw light leaking through, and knocked. Nancy Reed peeked from behind the shade and then unlocked the door.

  “Is Jeff here yet?” she asked, gathering me in a tight hug. “Saw a bunch of staties swarming the place.”

  “He just arrived, but I haven’t seen him yet. Ro Troisi was working with the state police. How’s Caroline?” I said, carefully disengaging from the hug and looking around the room.

  “She’s in rough shape. We’re all in shock. What could have happened to Mark? You don’t think it was drugs, do you?”