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Authors: Julianne Holmes

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BOOK: Clock and Dagger
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C
aroline dropped me off at the back of the Cog & Sprocket, just in case any looky-loos were still lurking, and then continued on to Marytown. I'd told her about my conversation with Kim Gray, but I tried to keep concern out of my voice. I had a feeling Kim and I were becoming locked into a game of chess, and I was losing. I needed a better strategy. Who could help me with that? The first name that came to mind was Ben Clover, but he had his own troubles right now, including a murder in his shop.

I let myself in and checked the clocks on the wall. Friday was winding day, so everything was running, though not at the same pace. Normally, that was the first conversation I had every morning with Mark Pine.

“How are the patients doing this morning?” I'd ask him, and he'd report back.

“Ugly cherub lost a minute,” he'd say. “The pastoral scene's chime still sounds sick.” Mark had taken to nicknaming the clocks. We were working on several banjo clocks right now, so specificity about the painting on their door or the decorative style helped us keep track. Mark did the naming, and some of them made me laugh. They were the first signs of his quirky sense of humor, and I'd taken it that he was feeling more comfortable and opening up. My heart ached, and I shook my head.

I needed more coffee, and some breakfast. I considered going straight down to the Sleeping Latte, but decided to employ my own cooking skills this morning. I wasn't up to conversation. I needed to sort some things on my own.

I poked my head through the door to the front of the shop and saw Jeff Paisley sitting in the chair and a half in the showroom. I took a couple of steps forward and noted his outstretched legs and his head resting on the back of the chair. His reading glasses were on, and he was still holding his cell phone in his right hand.

I tiptoed backward, and went upstairs to my apartment, letting myself in. I half hoped that Bezel would run out to see me, but she barely lifted her head when I went back to the bed to check on her. Bezel was not a morning cat.

I decided to skip the shower for now, and did what I could with my hair. There wasn't much I could do, since my hairstyle had gone from curly to frizzy at some point last night. I pulled some product through the tangles, trying to tame it back to curly, and then I washed my face. A sweep of blush, a little eye shadow, some mascara, lip gloss, and I began to look human.

I pulled on some lined leggings. I reached for a brightly flowered tunic, but then reached farther into the wardrobe
and pulled out a black dress with white flowers. More subdued, and appropriate for the day. Earrings made out of clock parts and my clogs completed the look.

The coffee was brewing and the omelet was cooking, so I went back downstairs. Jeff Paisley was still sleeping heavily in the chair. I hated to wake him up, but it had to be done.

“Jeff,” I said quietly, touching his shoulder.

He sat up so quickly I jumped back and put my hand on my heart.

“Sorry,” we both said at once.

“Do you always wake up at attention?” I asked.

“They didn't finish up next door till around five,” he said, taking in his surroundings. “I came back here to check messages. I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?” He looked down at his cell phone, but it didn't respond when he turned it on. He stared at the blank screen.

I tapped the top of his phone, and made a sweeping gesture with my hand. At least a dozen clocks announced the time from the walls and surfaces immediately in front of him. “It is just about eight. The clocks will start chiming any minute. Did they wake you up last night?”

“I got used to them around four o'clock.” Jeff put his phone down and rubbed his fingers over the corners of his eyes.

“Tell you what—I made some eggs and coffee. Come up, plug in your phone, and have some food,” I said.

“I should get into the office,” he said, running his hand back over his hair.

“We both know this is probably the only food you'll have for hours, and you can't do anything if your phone doesn't work. Don't be stubborn.”

“You sounded like my mother just then,” he said. “Her nickname for me is Mule.”

“Sounded like your mother?” I said, putting both hands on my hips. “You're a smooth talker, you know that?”

Jeff laughed and picked up his tie and jacket from the chair beside him. “It's early. Besides, my mother is a great lady. Okay, you win. Coffee and eggs, made by Ruth.”

“Don't sound so surprised. Or is that cautious?”

“I've never tasted your cooking. And you yourself have said that your coffee-making skills were lacking.”

“I've got my game back. Bought a better coffeemaker and I'm playing it safe with the French roast. But you can be the judge.”

•   •   •

I
poured Jeff another cup of coffee, his third. His eyes were still red, and he had dark smudges underneath, but he looked better. I was still nursing my second cup, but I felt better too. The food had also helped. Simple fare: eggs, cheese, and some roasted vegetables I had left over from lunch the day before. Simple, but plentiful and filling.

Jeff checked his phone, which was still plugged into the wall. He swiped past some messages, but didn't jump up and rush out the door.

“How is it going?” I asked.

“The state police are involved, so the investigation is in their office.”

“Even though it happened in Orchard?”

“I wasn't here, and Kim Gray called them in.”

“Can she do that?” I asked.

“She can do whatever she wants to do,” he said.

“Tell me about it. She's trying to throw another wrench in my plans. Says that the Town Historical Council won't approve them.”

“Who, or what, is the Town Historical Council?”

“Seems like it is Beckett Green.”

“That guy knows how to make friends, doesn't he?”

“Has he crossed you too, Jeff?”

“Crossed. Not sure I'd use that word in public, but between you and me, yes. He has put several complaints in with Kim Gray about the way I handle citations in Orchard. Seems I'm not strict enough for his liking.”

“Funny, there are a few folks who think you're plenty strict enough. Especially lately.”

“I know. Parking tickets—that's what I've come to. Kim sees them as a way to increase town funds. I see them as a way to get citizens to avoid using businesses down here. I can't make anyone happy on this front.”

“It does seem like parking tickets aren't the best use of your skill sets. Mark Pine's death is, don't you think?”

“Doesn't matter what I think. The state is in charge, I'm supposed to follow their lead.”

“The state being the state police.”

“One and the same.”

“Pat Reed calls them staties. So do I, come to think of it.”

“Not very respectful,” Jeff said, though he had a small smile.

“I won't call them that to their face. Anyway, we both know that you are the best man for this job,” I said. “I want to find out what happened to Mark, and why. So what do we do next?”


We
don't do anything. I keep on investigating and keep the chain of command informed of what I find.”

“As part of your investigation, how about if I take a look at that watch, see what I can find out? Unless you're going to use Beckett Green as your watch expert?”

“Beckett Green? Never mind. I don't want to know, unless he's breaking the law. I could use your help on figuring out the watch. You sure it wasn't Mark's?”

“So the watch is a clue?”

“Depends on who you ask. There are lots of threads to the investigation. I'm following up on the watch. Do you think it was Mark's?”

“I'm not sure. It was a watch he wouldn't mind owning, that's for sure. I know you know this, but if it was his watch, his fingerprints would be on the release clasp, on the winding mechanism, and on the case. I'd need to look at it more closely to see if it needed to be wound daily, or weekly. If it's an eight-day watch, it will run out on Saturday. Friday is winding day.”

“Why Friday?”

“Mark had some very, very precise habits. Friday was winding day in his world. He was obsessive about it. Also, if the watch was his, you probably won't find his fingerprints on the crystal or on the bezel. He was obsessive about keeping them clean.”

“I thought bezels and crystals were the same thing.”

Bezel was motionless, peering out the window, but at the mention of her name, her ears flicked around and the tip of her tail twitched.

“No, bezels are the ring that hold the crystal in place,” I said, impressed with his clock knowledge. “You can determine a lot by the bezel, and the designs on it. I'd love to see this one.”

Bezel's ears flicked forward again, back to more interesting things.

“So would I. I'll see what I can do to get you photos. How does that sound?”

“Could you send me the pictures of the watch you took?”

Jeff opened up his phone and flicked through the pictures.

“I'll send them to you later,” he said.

“Why not now? They aren't official photos, are they?”

“Ruth, they are of the crime scene. I'd rather you didn't have to see Mark like that. How about you give me time to crop a couple of photos, and then I'll send them to you.”

“Thanks for being worried about me. But you forget, I'm the person who found him. I kept seeing him every time I closed my eyes last night. I can't believe I missed the watch.”

“It was a mess over there, and you were in shock. Anyway, at some point you may need to testify about what you found. You'll probably get questioned about it. Won't help anyone if you have photos that can be studied. Give me an hour or so. I'll get you photos of the watch.”

“All right, I guess I understand.”

“Thanks for that. I'm sorry that you didn't sleep well, Ruth. We'll find out what happened to Mark, but you're not going to unsee him for a while. Let me know if you want to talk about it. You suffered a trauma last night; you need to take care of yourself. Or let other folks take care of you. Agreed?”

“Thanks, Jeff. Agreed. I guess it's starting to hit me. It's so sad.” I took a minute to regroup, and Jeff waited. It was one of the things I liked best about him. He didn't try to fix emotions, or brush them aside. I took a deep breath and went on. “I promise, if I need to talk, you're my first call. And please,
let me help you however I can. That's probably the best medicine possible.”

•   •   •

J
eff went in to wash his face, and I cleaned up the kitchen area. I wondered if I would ever take my new galley kitchen, and its lovely appointments, for granted. Probably not. Pat sought out, and found, a number of bargains that made my new kitchen affordable. Like in the bathroom, small scratches on the refrigerator, a dent on the dishwasher, a chip on the counter, a faucet hose that didn't retract automatically, and two different types of cabinets. All new to me, and much nicer than my budget would have allowed so I didn't mind that they weren't perfect.

I followed Jeff down the stairs and went to open the front door, which was double keyed. He walked over to the chair that he'd used as a workstation and began to gather his things. His backpack lay on the floor.

I opened the door and found Ben standing there, holding a huge bouquet of flowers and reaching forward to knock on the door.

“Ben,” I said. Brilliant conversationalist, that's me.

“Morning, Ruth,” he said, smiling that easy smile of his. “I hope it isn't too early.”

“I'm going to head into the office. I have an extra uniform there,” Jeff said, walking up behind me. “I'll get you the pictures as soon as I can. Oh, hey, Ben. I didn't know you were here.”

“I didn't know you were here, Jeff.”

“I ended up staying here last night,” Jeff said, pulling on his jacket. “Thanks again for breakfast, Ruth. I'll get you
those photos before noon. Wait—let me give you your key back.”

“Why don't you keep it? You may need to come back when I'm not here. You're always welcome,” I said.

“Thanks. Remember, call me,” Jeff said, pointing at me.

“I will, I promise.”

“Ben, are you around today?” Jeff asked.

“Not at my shop, but you already know that,” Ben said, his hands clenched around the bouquet of flowers. “I'll be out at Aunt Flo's. You've shut her down as well.”

“I haven't shut anyone down, Ben. You know that,” Jeff said. “I'll see what I can do to get her store back up and running, but it is in the same building as your shop. They have a right to keep it closed down while the investigation is still active. I'll call you later and give you an update.”

BOOK: Clock and Dagger
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