Clock and Dagger (19 page)

“What are you doing here, Ruth?”

“Saw the lights and the ambulance and thought I'd come over and see what was happening. Just curious.”

Jeff nodded and looked at me. He and I may be the same height, but his shoulders were twice as broad. His eyes were dark brown with yellow flecks. Though I knew he was at heart a very kind man, Jeff rarely smiled. It was as if he took on the pain of others and held on to it while he sorted things out. Today he looked miles away from even a shadow of joy. I put my hand on his arm and squeezed it gently.

“What's going on?”

He looked around, and then back at me.

“Where were you for the last hour or so? I came by the store a couple of times today to talk to you, but you weren't there.”

“Why didn't you call or text?”

“Better in person these days.”

“Okay. I was at the Sleeping Latte, helping out in the kitchen. Before that Caroline and I were having some tea. Before that only Bezel saw me.”

“This was after the tea with Caroline.”

“What was after the tea with Caroline?”

“You'll find out soon enough. Someone tried to kill Tuck Powers.”

“T
ried to kill him?” I said. I must have swayed a bit, because Jeff put both of his hands on my shoulders. “Here?” He nodded. “When?”

“Within the last hour, best as I can tell,” Jeff said, looking over his shoulder. “Caroline came to see me after you'd had tea. While we were talking, I gave Tuck a call and asked him to come by the station.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

“No one is making any predictions, but he's still alive. That's a good sign.”

“Why Tuck?” I asked.

“I'd already called Beckett to ask him where he got the clocks in his shop. He told me that Tuck had brought them in on consignment.”

“Tuck?”

“I take it you know nothing about this?” Jeff said.

“I didn't even know Beckett was selling clocks up until a couple of days ago.”

“Clocks and watches, as it turns out.”

“Any of the watches like the one that you found with Mark's body?”

Jeff looked at me and shook his head. He took the phone out of his pocket and opened up a text. “I was with Caroline when I got the call. I'd already started to work on getting more information about her ex-husband to find out if he has anything to do with this. I can't get verification that he's still in jail, but official channels say that he is.”

“You don't believe them.”

“Not sure what I believe. The language is cagey,” he said.

“Shouldn't you be able to find this out? It seems sort of basic. He's either in jail or he isn't.”

Jeff smiled and shook his head. “You'd think, wouldn't you? But working with a lot of agencies, you'd be surprised how many people get territorial. Some for no good reason, others for very good reasons. I've got a couple of calls in to old friends who can help me cut through red tape. I'm waiting to hear back from them.”

“Does Caroline know about Tuck?”

“No. She knows I had to leave. We were planning on continuing the conversation later. She said something about a dinner at her house?”

“Yes, and it's turning into quite a party. Her friend Zane Phillips is in town, and he's coming out to the cottage.”

“Didn't you text me his phone number?”

“Yes, in case he saw something.”

“Was that the only reason?”

“Well, given everything, I just wanted to make sure he was who he said he was.”

“The number belonged to Zane Phillips.”

“Alright then.” I took out my phone and texted Zane Phillips, giving him the address of the cottage. I'd programmed his number, just in case.

“Sorry,” I said, looking up at Jeff. “I forgot to text him the address earlier. Listen, I'm going to head out there. Anything else you need from me?”

“Do you know where Nadia is?”

“Nadia? No, why?”

“We're going to want to talk to her.”

“Surely you don't think Nadia—”

“I am keeping an open mind about what I think. What I know is that she knew both men, and one is dead, the other one close to it. They were both attacked in very similar fashions. What I know is that I want to speak with her, ASAP. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said. “If I hear from her, I will tell her to call you.”

“And you won't tell her about Tuck yourself, right?”

“Chief, what do you think I am, some sort of gossip?”

“Ruth, don't get me started. Just promise me you'll let me do my job tonight. I'll check in tomorrow, all right? We can have breakfast.”

“That will start the gossip flying again.” I smiled, but he didn't smile back. “Breakfast would be great. Call me whenever you can make it. I do have a favor to ask, though: let me know when you've spoken to Nadia, so I can try and be there for her. She's been through a lot.” He nodded once, but that was enough. “Then, I promise I won't call anyone.” It was an easy promise to make. I didn't want to be the one to tell Nadia that her boyfriend had been hurt so soon after
she lost Mark. Besides, I wanted to be with Caroline before she got the news.

Those old clocks had secrets, and Caroline was the one person who might be able to help figure them out.

•   •   •

I
went over to the shop and unlocked the front door. The cascade of bells assaulted me. I'd forgotten about the welcome bells that Pat had installed and almost dropped the cookies on the floor. Yeesh. I was a bundle of nerves. But then, who could blame me?

The news about Tuck finally hit me after I closed and locked the door, safe in my clock haven. Tuck wasn't the most charming of young men, but he certainly deserved better. Besides, he knew the secret of the clocks. I was more convinced of that than ever. I hoped he didn't die and take the secret with him.

I thought back to my conversations with Nancy as I walked through the store. Tuck was supposed to have worked today, but something sidelined him. From what she'd said, he had been planning on working at the Sleeping Latte a lot. Was he making a career move? Was he expanding his business or was he sick of doing odd jobs around town? Had he gotten himself in over his head? Was Mark involved in some harebrained moneymaking scheme with him that had gone bad?

I put the cookies down on the workbench toward the back of the shop, and then I walked up the stairs. Bezel needed dinner before I went out to the cottage. I kept thinking about the last few days. Beckett selling the fake clocks in his shop. The watch by Mark's body, and Caroline's connection to it. Was there a watch in Tuck's hand as well? What had Jeff
said? I shook my head, trying not to think about Tuck being attacked, grateful that I hadn't found him. Yet I was still curious about some of the specifics about the attack. What was wrong with me? Since when was I so morbid?

I was at the top step when I heard the noise. It sounded like an injured animal was trapped somewhere upstairs. Just at that moment, Bezel came out and wrapped herself around my ankles, headbutting the back of my knees. She gave one forceful meow. She walked to the left, close to the stairs that led up to the office. I hesitated, but followed her. Bezel was a smart cat, and she wanted me to see something.

I walked past the wall of cabinets. The keening sounds started to get a bit louder, and I looked down, seeing the tip of brown boots peeking out from under a large gray cloak.

“Nadia? Is that you?” I walked over and lifted up the cloak, exposing Nadia's raven black hair. She was resting her head on her knees. I bent down in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders. Again, she made me feel generations older than she was, rather than ten years.

“I didn't know where to go,” she said. She sounded miserable and started whimpering again.

“What's wrong? What happened?”

“Tuck's dead,” she said. “I saw him.”

“Oh, Nadia. He's not. They took him to the hospital.” She looked up at me and then a sob broke from somewhere deep inside.

“Come here, come in and sit down at the table,” I said. I stood up and hauled her up on her feet. Once she was standing I put my arm around her shoulder and walked toward my apartment area. I sat her down at my kitchen table and then sat beside her.

“Tell me,” I said.

“Tuck texted me, told me to come over to the bookstore—he wanted to tell me something. I walked over, and Beckett was there, leaning over him, looking at the necktie in his hand. Tuck wasn't moving. I screamed and ran over here. But you were gone.”

“Beckett?” I asked. Nadia nodded and put her head down on her arms, weeping more quietly now.

“Nadia, I am calling the chief. You need to tell him what you saw,” I said.

“No, I can't. What happens if he comes after me next?”

“Why would Beckett come after you?”

“I don't know. But first Mark, now Tuck. Why wouldn't I be next?”

Why not indeed? I took out my phone and texted Jeff Paisley, letting him know that Nadia was here.

Beckett Green. Mark said he had offered him a job, and Mark had turned him down. Maybe Tuck was leaving his employ as well? Who was Beckett Green, anyway? We'd all bought his rich-guy-buys-a-bookstore routine, but maybe we'd taken too much at face value. I was about to call Jeff when his text came through.
Don't move. I'll be there in a few minutes.

“Nadia, Chief Paisley is on his way over here.”

“Why did you tell him I was here?” she shouted, standing up so quickly that the table shook.

“Stop. You have to tell him what you saw.”

“What happens if he thinks I did it?”

“Why would he think that?” I said. The unmasked grief on her face told me, at least, that she hadn't done it. Poor Nadia.

“Just because. It's easiest. Everyone thought I was cheating on Tuck with Mark. I know what people think about me.”

“Stop. He's a fair man. But tell you what. I am going to let Kristen Gauger know that you may need her, all right? Here's her number—put it in your phone. She should be back from her trip by now, so she can help out if you need her. Or she can get one of her partners to help.” I read the numbers aloud and then texted Kristen, letting her know that Nadia might be in touch. I didn't give her more information than that. I was already meddling too much.

“Nadia, is there anything you want me to know?” I asked. “Anything about Mark or Tuck that might help us find out who did this?”

“I think it was Beckett Green. I really do. He was so mad when Mark wouldn't help him fix the clocks in his shop, even though that's why Tuck got him his job here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when you needed someone, and we posted it? Tuck sent it to Mark—he knew him from back in Vermont. Tuck's uncle bought a clock shop a few years ago, and Mark worked up there. I don't remember the name of the guy who used to own it.”

“Was it Zane Phillips?”

“No, that's not the name. This guy was named Wally, I think. Wally, now what was his name, Shruggs?”

“Struggs?” I whispered.

“That's it. Wally Struggs had owned the shop first, but then he moved to Europe. Tuck said his uncle took it over as a favor for Wally. They'd done some business together over the years.”

“Wally Struggs?” Holy moley, this was getting stranger and stranger. Did Caroline know Tuck's uncle, this friend of her ex-husband's? She must have come into contact with
him. Did she know he was running the shop? I'd think she would've mentioned that.

“Yeah, did you know him? I guess he was some sort of a big deal. Anyway, Tuck's uncle Fred is a jerk, but a few months ago he got a new business partner, and he started to get some great inventory in the shop. They wanted to sell it at the Cog & Sprocket, so they decided to move Tuck down here. At first I thought he came to be with me, but he told me the truth the night of the party. It was all about the clocks. When Tuck came down here, you weren't interested in more clocks.” I nodded, vaguely remembering Tuck asking me about adding to my inventory, and telling him that I had more than I could handle at the moment. I had just thought he was making conversation, learning about the business. “So he consigned the clocks to Beckett Green. Fred's business partner was pretty ticked off. Tuck thinks his uncle started working another angle. When Tuck told them all about the job opening over here, Fred decided it made sense to move Mark down here.”

“Why did they want us to sell the clocks?” I asked. Was it because they were forgeries? Did Tuck's uncle know who Caroline was, and the story of the clocks? Who was his business partner? This was getting more and more confusing. The knot in my gut tightened. I was missing something, some connection, that would help this story make sense. Right now it was a muddle.

“I don't know. Tuck idolizes his uncle Fred. But the few times I've met him, he's given me the creeps. Tuck always has a million deals going, and he sucked Mark into some of them. Tuck didn't tell me much about his side businesses. Whenever he did, we'd end up fighting. Last night he told me that his
idea, Fred's and his idea, was that Mark would work on the other clocks for Beckett, and he'd keep trying to talk you into selling some of them. But then that all went haywire.”

“Why?”

“Because you and Caroline were so nice. Mark used to say that you were the real deal, an artist with clocks.” I felt a blush rise while tears pricked my eyes. “Mark wanted to learn from you, to become better at his job. He didn't want to help Beckett sell his clocks, and told Tuck he was out of the deal. Even Tuck started to feel bad about the whole thing, so he told Beckett and Fred that he was quitting. They wanted out of all that scheming and lying. They wanted to make honest money and become a part of Orchard.”

“When did he talk to his uncle?”

“Today.” Nadia started crying again, and I rubbed the top of her back. I heard some pounding on the downstairs door and within a couple of seconds my phone was ringing.