Goody Goody Gunshots (9 page)

“I don’t know. Her name’s Liberty Parker.”

The name didn’t ring any bells, but with a name like Liberty, it seemed likely that she’d been born in the mid- seventies, which would make her . . . a few years younger than me. She’d probably been way below my teenage radar screen. “What do you know about her?”

“Not much,” Karen admitted. “Just, like I said, that she’s back in town, and she needs work.”

“Did she have references?”

Karen’s smile faded a bit. “I thought you were leaving the choice up to me.”

“I did,” I said with a patient smile. “Now I’m just asking for a few details. What made you decide to hire her? Does she have experience in retail?”

Karen hesitated ever so slightly before admitting, “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask her?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “She’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I said, my patience slipping a bit, “but Divinity’s a small shop. Whoever we hire is going to have a key to the shop and access to all our money. Please tell me you asked at least a few questions when you interviewed her.”

Karen’s chin jacked up another notch or two. “I asked plenty of questions.” Her voice snapped like taut wire. “Nobody comes with a guarantee, Abby. I’ve talked to Liberty, and I think she’ll work out just great. If my judgment isn’t enough for you, maybe you should just do everything yourself.”

I pride myself on being relatively smart—at least smart enough not to alienate the only person standing between me and failure in the candy business. It wasn’t easy, but I slicked on a smile and poured bits of pummeled toffee into the sample tray. “I’m sure Liberty will be fine,” I said, hoping I sounded as if I meant it. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

 
I thought Jawarski might call that evening to tell me what he’d found out about the metal strip, but I thought wrong. Max and I ended up sharing a bowl of candied popcorn while we watched a broadcast version of
My Big, Fat Greek Wedding
on TV, then going to bed depressingly early.

Next morning, I woke with the sun to find that a cold front had settled into the valley overnight. I pulled on a thick sweater and even thicker socks, then set off with Max for our morning walk. I had a lot to do that morning, and I wanted to get an early start.

A few minutes after eight, I let myself into the shop and got started making three dozen candy cornucopia centerpieces Richie Bellieu and Dylan Wagstaff had ordered for a dinner party the following week. Richie and Dylan were good customers, but they were also friends. Jawarski and I had both been invited to their dinner party, and I wanted the centerpieces to be special.

I dug out the grapevine cornucopia baskets I’d ordered from an online supplier and packed one with fruit drops in autumn-colored wrappers, dark and milk chocolate autumn leaves in colorful foil, and red, yellow, orange, green, and purple jelly candies wrapped in clear cellophane to let their colors shine through. I added molded milk chocolate balls filled with caramel and carefully positioned several small packets of Autumn Mix Jelly Beans.

Satisfied with the mix of color and texture, I wedged one of the large orange, yellow, and white swirled lollipops I’d made the previous week, positioned a few silk leaves, and voilà! instant horn of plenty. If you called an hour and a half “instant.”

Twice in the space of an hour, the phone had rung with people calling in response to the want ad. Resisting the urge to take down their names and keep them as backup, I told both callers that the position had been filled.

Figuring I still had half an hour until the shop opened, I reached into the cupboard for ribbon. When I heard a knock on the front door, I dropped the roll on the floor and watched the satin make an autumn-colored trail across the floor.

Had I lost track of time? I checked the clock on the wall, but it was only a few minutes past nine thirty. Whoever it was could wait.

I started gathering ribbon, but the knock came again, longer and louder this time. Again, I ignored it. The store wasn’t scheduled to open for another twenty-seven minutes, and I was in no mood to bend the rules for anyone.

When I had the ribbon under control, I began to roll the satin strip back onto the spool, but again the knock sounded, this time followed by a faint voice calling, “Hello-o-o-o. Is anybody in there?”

Barely keeping my irritation in check, I put the ribbon down and strode toward the front door. A young blonde woman of about thirty stood on the other side. She wore a sweatshirt and jeans, and her hair had a streak of black down the root line. When I was younger, that would have been a sign that she needed a visit to a hairdresser, but I had the sneaking suspicion that with her, the color was intentional.

She leaned against the glass and cupped her hands around her eyes so she could peer inside. “Hello?”

I moved in front of the door so she could see me and gestured toward the sign right in front of her. “We don’t open until ten. You’ll have to come back then.”

“Oh, but I’m not a customer,” she said, taking her hands off the glass and beaming at me. “I’m your new clerk. Karen hired me on Saturday.”

I stared at her for a full minute, then unlocked the door and ushered her inside. “I’m sorry. Karen mentioned that she’d hired someone, but I wasn’t expecting you until later.” She was eager, I’d grant her that. Doing my best to shake off my earlier irritation, I held out a hand and said, “I’m Abby.”

“I’m Liberty.” She pulled her sweatshirt off, sending black and blonde hair flying in all directions. “Liberty Parker. Pleased to meetcha.”

“Likewise.” I think I sounded genuine, but I’m not sure. I was too busy wondering what I was going to do with her until Karen arrived. Locking the front door again, I motioned for Liberty to follow me into the kitchen. “Did Karen happen to tell you what time she’d be in today?”

“I don’t think so. She told me I didn’t need to come in until eleven, but I came in early. I wanted to make a good impression.”

She’d made an impression, all right. “Why don’t you have a seat right over there?” I said, nodding toward the table near the window. “I’m just finishing some centerpieces.”

“Ooh, that sounds great. Can I help?”

Grudgingly, I gave her one more point for enthusiasm. “Another day, maybe.”

Looking disappointed, Liberty sat at the table and watched while I began to crimp the ribbon between my fingers to make a bow. I’d just made the second loop when she let out a heavy sigh and said, “I feel kind of useless just sitting here and watching you.”

“You’re fine,” I assured her. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself while we wait for Karen to get here? Karen said you’ve lived in Paradise before.”

“I lived here when I was younger, but I just came back a few weeks ago.”

“Really? What brings you back?”

“My boyfriend. Rutger. He’s going to be trying out for the OfficeCentral cycling team in the spring, and he wanted to come here to train. I wasn’t sure I was ready to come back, but . . .” She let her voice trail away and finished her explanation with a shrug.

If that’s what Rutger had come to Paradise for, he’d picked an odd time to make the move. “He’s going to train in the winter?”

Liberty picked restlessly at a pile of grapevine pieces that had fallen from the baskets. “He loves to ski. That’s the other reason he wanted to come here. He figures he can go other places to ride when the weather’s bad, but there are only a few places in the country where the skiing is this good. And he’s right, you know. It really is the best.” Pausing only long enough to take a breath, she asked, “Is this garbage? I could clean up for you if that’s okay.”

Just being in the same room with her was making me tired. The woman exuded a level of energy I hadn’t felt in years. I wasn’t sure if I envied or resented it. “That’s fine,” I said. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else for you to do. I wasn’t expecting you until later, or I would have been better prepared.”

Liberty’s smile faded. “I made a mistake, didn’t I? I should have waited until eleven.”

Had I hurt her feelings? If she was
that
tenderhearted, this was never going to work. I formed another loop for the bow, checked to make sure it was the same size as the others, and ignored the cramp forming in the base of my thumb. At least now I understood why Karen had swept her up so quickly. My cousin had a maternal streak a mile wide. Nothing made her feel better than playing mother hen.

“It’s fine,” I said. “When I’m finished with this, I’ll call and let Karen know that you’re here.”

“Oh.” A glimmer of hope returned to the girl’s face, followed immediately by a contrite frown. “I don’t want her to be upset with me, too.”

“I’m not upset with you,” I said again. “What kind of experience do you have? Have you worked in retail before?”

“Oh yes. Lots.” Liberty’s smile returned, and it appeared that all was well again. “I sold shoes at JC Penney when we lived in Denver, and I worked at a gift shop in Albuquerque. I’ve waited tables, too, but I’m not really very good at that.” Her eyes flew wide, and the smile was gone again. “But I probably shouldn’t tell you that, should I? You’ll wonder if I can do this job.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “This job isn’t anything like waiting tables. If it were, both Karen and I would both be dismal failures. What about candy? Do you have any experience with what we do around here?”

“No. Not exactly. But I can learn. Karen said she thought that would be okay.”

I couldn’t very well insist that she have experience when I had so little. “Of course it will,” I said. “As long as you pay attention and learn fast. Did Karen tell you that you’ll need a food handler’s permit?”

“Yes, and I’m going to get one on my lunch break.”

“Did she give you any paperwork to fill out?”

“No, she said she’d go over all of that with me today.”

I heard the door rattle, realized that this time I
had
forgotten to open on time, and hurried into the shop to rectify my mistake. To my relief, my first customer of the day was Rachel Summers, a friend who owns a candle shop just down the block. “I was beginning to think you weren’t here,” she said as she burst into the shop on a blast of cold air. “Can you believe how cold it is? I
so
didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.”

And with that, the day had begun. It would be hours before I had a chance to catch my breath again.

Chapter 12

Karen showed up by ten fifteen and spent a couple
of minutes clucking over Liberty before sweeping her off for training. Rachel had ordered her morning Coke and hurried off to Candlewyck, and I had the kitchen to myself again.

I turned my attention back to the centerpieces, but in spite of my determination to focus on the work in front of me, my thoughts flitted around ceaselessly. I wondered what Jawarski had found out about the vandalism charge against me. I thought long and hard about my promises to Brody and Caleb. And I couldn’t stop thinking about Coach Hendrix and his ridiculous accusation that
I’d
carved up his truck.

I had no idea how the two of us were going to get through an entire season of Youth League basketball without killing each other, but I was more determined than ever not to let him run me off. I might quit on my own, but I would
never
run. I had a firm rule about that.

Still, if I was going to stick around, I’d have to convince Hendrix to take me seriously. Racing through the parking lot the night before had forced me to acknowledge how seriously out of shape I was. No wonder the coach didn’t think I was capable of anything more taxing than counting towels.

By the time I moved the centerpieces I’d finished to a counter near the window, I’d decided that it was time to dust off that gift certificate from my parents. I didn’t know when I’d find the time, but I’d figure that out somehow. First, though, I needed to buy clothes comfortable enough to exercise in.

After cleaning up the things I hadn’t used that afternoon, I told Karen I was taking an early dinner break and left the shop. The temperature had dipped at least another ten degrees while I’d been working, and I was tempted to fire up the Jetta, but nobody in Paradise drove if they were only going a short distance, and who was I to buck tradition?

Max had been waiting patiently for a little attention all afternoon, so I hooked him to his leash and set off up the street. Walking warmed me up a little, and I was soon glad I’d decided to walk.

The whole town was filled with a restless kind of energy brought on by the dip in temperature. Thick, gray clouds shrouded the mountains on every side of the valley, and there was an edge to the cold that smelled of moisture. Snow was coming. We could all feel it.

In the past few weeks, we’d received almost enough snow in the mountains to open the ski resorts. One more good snowfall ought to do it, and we were holding our collective breath, waiting.

Max and I strolled to the end of the block, then across the square to Alpine Sports. Gavin Trotter had come to Paradise a few years earlier, and he’d spent megabucks turning an ordinary retail space into a faux Swiss chalet filled with all the exercise clothes and sporting equipment anyone could possibly need. I hoped he’d have something that would motivate me to get into shape.

Alpine Sports is only about three blocks from Divinity, but my nose and fingertips were numb by the time I got there. I tied Max to a wooden bench sporting a huge ad featuring Quentin Ingersol’s face and copy urging Paradise to come to him with all our real estate needs. I couldn’t imagine wanting to see my face all over town, but to each his own, I guess.

Max settled into a makeshift shelter created by the bench and a nearby garbage can. Satisfied that he’d be warm and safe, I hurried inside out of the cold. Gavin, a tall, thin man with salt-and-pepper hair, glanced up from behind the counter as I came in. “Abby? This is a surprise. What can I do for you?”