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Authors: Julianne Holmes

BOOK: Clock and Dagger
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I heard the front doorbell chime, and saw Nadia and Tuck come in. The door chime was new, and a vast improvement over the buzzer that had been installed to let people know that customers had come into the shop, but it was temporary. With the new open configuration, we could see the customers come in, though we still needed something to remind us to look up. Pat Reed promised to design a more spectacular door chime and to install it by the opening. He wouldn't tell me more, but promised I would love it. Trusting Pat had served me well so far, so there was no real reason to stop now. It's just that I was very particular about the door chimes.

“Don't you both look terrific,” I said. I wasn't lying; they were both dressed to the nines. I hoped Orchard was ready for the Gothic steampunk fashion statement they were making. Nadia's black velvet dress, bustier, fishnet stockings, and high-heeled ankle boots were offset by a red ruffled coat. I was really pleased to see that she was wearing the pair of earrings I'd made her, fashioned out of clock parts and dangling to her shoulders.

Tuck was wearing a crimson smoking jacket, white
pleated shirt, and string tie over blue jeans and black cowboy boots. His mustache was waxed to create impressive curves, and the soul patch on his chin was well groomed. It was a lot of look for the twenty-five-year-old to carry off, but he was trying. As always, he barely smiled at me, but did nod, acknowledging my compliment.

“Thanks, you look great too,” Nadia said with a hint of that elusive sincerity that I had seen earlier. “How's it going? Are you surveying your empire again?”

“I was, am,” I said, feeling a blush rise. “I do love this showroom.”

“I picked up the new brochures,” she said. “I know we were going to wait till the opening, but I thought maybe we'd want to put some out tonight.” She handed me the trifold brochure she'd been working on for the past three weeks. I'd thought that it was an old-fashioned idea, creating a printed piece, and was surprised that Nadia had suggested it. But looking at what she'd created, I understood the value. A picture of the shop on the front, a map to our location on the back, and inside a scavenger hunt for customers, inviting them to come and find the grandfather clock with the moon face, the banjo clock with the carriage scene painted on the door, and other pieces that we would always display and never sell. The brochure balanced old-fashioned, with muted sepia tones, with modern touches, including our social media icons running along the bottom. Our website was prominent, as was our Twitter handle of @ClaganClocks. She'd included a QR code for people who wanted to take a virtual tour of the shop.

“Nadia, I love them!” I said, and meant it. I wasn't usually as energetic in my praise, but I always pushed my enthusiasm
around Nadia, hoping it would become a virus she'd catch. So far, I'd had little success, though I did see a faint smile. “Yes, let's put them out tonight. All of these events are feeding into one another, so let's not waste an opportunity.”

“Agreed,” she said, smoothing her dress. “Did the rest of the clock cookies arrive yet?”

“Caroline's on her way, I'd imagine. The rest of them are with her.”

“I'm going to go up to the office and drop my stuff. I'll be right down,” she said. We all turned toward the tinkling sound of the door chime, and stopped when Beckett Green walked in.

Beckett Green had been the first person to welcome me to Orchard in October, and I'd taken him to be a mild-mannered, milquetoast man. I'd liked him at first. The last time I'd been so mistaken by a man was when I met my ex-husband.

“Beckett,” I said. It came out like a hiss, and Nadia snorted a laugh.

He stopped and looked around the shop. “It doesn't look that different, does it?” he said. “After the weeks of work, I'd expected more.”

“Most of the work is upstairs, in my apartment. Only friends have seen those changes,” I said.

“Living in your shop. How quaint,” he said through a thin-lipped smile. “Seems to be a trend here in Orchard.”

“Not all of us can afford to live in a B and B like you and Rina do,” Nadia said. “Tell me, do you prefer the pancakes or waffles for breakfast? Or both?”

I couldn't help glancing down at his belly, which was pushing over his belt buckle. I glanced over at Nadia and raised my
eyebrows. I knew engaging with Beckett would prolong his visit. Besides, a part of me still hoped it could all work out.

Beckett sucked in his stomach and glared at us. “Ben lives over his shop too, doesn't he? Of course, if business doesn't pick up, he can move into the shop itself and rent out his place for some extra income.” Beckett laughed at his own terrible joke. Nadia and I didn't crack a smile. I looked around for Tuck and noticed he was prowling around the back of the shop.

“What can I do for you, Beckett? We're about to start the downtown open house. There's still time to be a part of the new POL card,” I said. I'd added a
Visit the website for more special offers
tagline to the bottom on the off chance he'd change his mind.

“As I said, I don't see the business strategy of supporting one another with discounts,” he said, leaning in close to squint at a clock on the wall by the door. “We all know my shop would take the biggest hit, and supporting the rest of you with my cash isn't in my best interest.”

I sighed, but didn't take the bait. My family had deep Orchard roots, and I understood the community. And that it was a community. We all looked out for one another, and kindness counted. Beckett didn't understand the power of paying it forward, but he'd learn. His bottomless bank account would keep him in business out of spite, but his local customer base was eroding every time he opened his mouth in public. Tourists would only get him so far, and they'd get him nowhere in the winter.

“Again, what can I do for you?”

“I'm looking for Mark Pine,” he said. “He left me a ridiculous voice mail, and I need to talk to him.”

“He's not here, though he will be soon,” I said. “He and Ben were working on a project. Did you try the barbershop?”

“I'm not going to traipse all over town looking for him. Tell him to come over and talk to me in person. I'll make it worth his while.”

“He's not going to work with you,” Nadia said, crossing her arms over her bodice. “I was there when he called you, and he was pretty clear.”

I heard a small crash and looked back at Tuck, who was restacking the paper cups. I was surprised that the back of Nadia's head wasn't smoking from the glare he was giving her.

“Every man has his price,” Beckett said smugly. He looked at me. “I assume you had something to do with this?”

“Me? No, though he did tell me about your new sideline of clocks. An interesting business strategy,” I said. My heart pounded in my chest, and I resisted the urge to raise my voice.

“A good businessperson takes advantage of opportunity when it comes, even if it's unexpected. Anyway, tell him to come and see me, for his own sake. Now I must be off. The caterer is due any minute.”

“The caterer?” I asked.

“I'm going to be offering some repast on my front porch. Surely, you won't begrudge me that?” he said, smiling down at me as if he were indulging a small child.

“Beckett, I don't begrudge you anything,” I said as graciously as I could. “Have a great evening.”

Nadia and I stood shoulder to shoulder and watched him leave. Nadia was six inches shorter than me but my boots didn't have too high a heel, and her platform boots had a four-inch heel. We were almost the same height, tonight at least.

“What. A. Jerk,” Nadia said when the door was almost closed. She didn't lower her voice one decibel.

“Seriously,” I agreed.

Nadia took her cell phone out of her coat pocket and dialed. “Hello, Nancy? It's Nadia. Did you know that Beckett was going to serve food on his front porch tonight? I know, right? Anything we can do about that? Hmmm, right, that's a great idea. You'll take care of it? Thanks.”

“What was that?”

“I called Nancy,” she said. “We've been expecting Beckett to try and pull something, so I wanted to let her know what he was up to.”

“Why does the idea of the two of you hatching a plan make me so nervous?”

“Hey, Nancy's great. She's going to call the police station and make sure he has a vendor's permit for giving away food. You know all the hoops that Kim Gray made us all jump through just to have the block shut down tonight? Seems only fair.”

Part of me didn't like small-time, petty town politics. The other part was thrilled that Nadia and Nancy were on my side. Both of my selves were winning right now, but I felt it necessary to be a grown-up. “I doubt Chief Paisley will like the idea of shutting down Beckett Green over a vendor violation.” Our chief of police, Jeff Paisley, was by the book, but he also understood that his job was to keep the peace in Orchard. His past training as a SWAT commander wasn't needed much in these parts. At least not yet. Jeff and I had become good friends over the past few weeks since I'd moved back to Orchard.

“That's the beauty of the plan. The chief is in Boston, at
some family event in Dorchester. Officer Ro Troisi is in charge, and there's no love lost between Beckett and Ro. Especially since he didn't hire her brothers to put in his new heating system.” Small towns. Family businesses. No-brainers on who to hire, or at least call for a bid, especially when you were new. “Nancy will take care of it.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.” My palm itched for my own cell phone, to call Pat and let him know what his wife was up to. I resisted the urge. Pat couldn't stop Nancy once she had her mind set. Besides, the open house started in five minutes. Showtime.

c
h
ap
t
e
r
7

T
he open house was supposed to go until eight o'clock, but it was almost nine, and the party was still in full swing. I took out my phone and send out a group text, checking in once more with Ada from the Corner Market, Moira from the Sleeping Latte, Harriet from the library, Max from the hardware store, Flo from her Emporium, and Nancy, who had been roaming the streets with Pat and Ben, moving food from place to place and replenishing supplies.

Send everyone outside in five minutes. Surprise almost ready to go
, Ben's text said.

Where
'
s Mark?
he texted me privately. Where indeed? Caroline and I had been holding down the fort at the Cog & Sprocket, with Nadia jumping in and then disappearing when she got texted instructions from Nancy. Caroline was innately shy and had spent most of the evening toward the back,
fussing with cookies, refilling the punch bowl, and talking to neighbors. My years as a faculty wife had again served me well, and I worked the crowd, meeting and greeting, distributing the POL cards and brochures, and answering a lot of questions about clocks. More than one person promised to be back for the opening.

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.

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