Pane and Suffering (14 page)

Chapter 16

 

A
westerly weather front swooped in overnight and turned into a dark, dreary impromptu downpour. Savannah struggled to hold her umbrella against the gusty winds while unlocking the back door of the shop. Her head stayed mostly dry, but her jeans were soaked and her sneakers were damp and squeaked like ducklings on the floor.

Folding up the umbrella and shoving it in an old crock by the door, the rain stopped in typical Florida fashion. She recognized an odd feeling that things were not as they should be. The shop was quite dark because of the rain, but it didn't feel right. “Left of center” is what her dad used to say. Switching on the light, she could see that her stacks of business papers had been moved. She always kept her paperwork aligned to an exact square with precise right angles. These stacks were a tiny bit askew. The second from the bottom desk drawer had not been completely closed, too. She stiffened. Someone had been in there looking for something.

Her throat tightened. A shiver ran down her spine to the heel of her damp shoe. The thought of someone pawing—no not pawing, but rather meticulously searching through the desk left her feeling vaguely dirty. She heard a tap at the front door.

“I'll be right there, Edward,” she said loudly, just in case the intruder was hiding in the shop. “Coming over to bring me coffee is so nice.” She ran to the door and unlocked it as quickly as her shaking hands could manage.

“Why are you yelling?”

“Someone has been here searching through the desk.” She locked the front door, grabbed his upper arm, and dragged him back to the office.

Edward struggled to keep the tray steady to avoid slopping coffee everywhere. “Hey, be careful. I don't want to wear the coffee. What's the matter?”

She pointed to the desk. “See, someone has searched through my papers.”

Edward was silent for several long seconds. “I don't see anything. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Argggghhhhh!” She stretched her hands up into fists. “I can't believe you don't believe me. Well, yes, I do believe you don't believe me. I wouldn't believe me if I didn't know how I keep things organized in here.” She turned, then plopped down suddenly in the office chair and put her head in both hands. “I think I'm going crazy.”

Edward pulled one of the sliding work trays out of the desk and put the coffee tray down. “Okay, I believe you.” He turned around. “Let me make sure the searcher has gone.”

Savannah could hear his footsteps tromping through the shop as he checked behind cabinets and opened all the doors. She sat at the desk and straightened the paper stacks, minutely adjusted the contents of the drawers, and shut them completely flush. It was silly, she knew, but nevertheless it made her feel better.

“All clear. It's just us.” Edward pulled up the side chair and sat. “So, basically, someone
very
carefully looked through the papers on the desk. Why?”

“Good question.”

“Here, drink up.” He handed her the coffee and leaned back in the chair. “Some caffeine will help with the thinking. Who has keys?”

“Hugh had a set. I have Dad's set, and Jacob also has a set. I think that's it, but I haven't been around much in the past few years.” She took a long, deep drink of the coffee. “The logical culprit is Jacob, but I can't figure out why he would search the desk.”

They stared at the pile of papers.

Savannah shuddered and immediately dismissed the idea as a natural consequence of sleep deprivation and anxiety.

Even if he did have it in him to kill someone—she couldn't imagine he did—Jacob loved the place and the work too much to jeopardize the people who had brought him there. No, it could never be Jacob.

A tapping at the front door startled them. Savannah stood. “That must be Amanda. She's enthusiastic. She's starting to come in earlier and earlier.”

“She would make a great assistant office manager. Have you asked her yet?” Edward gathered up the cups and tray as he spoke. “She needs the money, you know.”

“Not yet.”

Edward looked down at her with a serious look.

“Okay, okay. I'll ask her right away, but she's going to need a lot of training.” She went through the classroom and the display room and unlocked the front door. “Good morning, Amanda. You're nice and early today for such ugly weather.” She held the front door open for her.

Amanda bustled in with her various bags and stained glass board. “Good morning. I hope this terrible storm front will pass through quickly. The rain keeps Mother awake at night. I don't know why, but we finally got her settled well after midnight last night and then she woke up at five bright and cheery and called me to ask when I'm coming over to see her. It's extremely annoying.” She put her burdens on the workbench and perched on the stool. “What's going on?”

Savannah walked over to the door of the office. “The office has been searched and I'm a little freaked out about it.”

“Did they take anything? Is anything missing?”

“I don't think so. I had pretty much sorted through all the papers and everything looks like it's here. I'll double-check everything later, though.”

“What could anyone want?”

Savannah shrugged her shoulders. “It could be someone who wanted to find the offer letters from Frank and Smythe.”

“I can't imagine either of them capable of a tidy search,” said Edward.

“Desperation might provide enough incentive for either of them to search very carefully. Either one of them could have done this,” Savannah said.

Amanda nodded her head toward the custom workshop. “What about the panel?”

They waited for Savannah to unlock the door. “I can't tell if anyone has been in here. I haven't sorted through things here, so I don't know if anything has been moved.” She lifted the cover over the panel. It was just as she'd left it. “The panel hasn't been touched. I would know if it had been disturbed. I checked the panel after the forensics team finished their investigation. That's a relief.”

They left and went back to the display room. “Well, this is new.” She picked up a small white note that rested on the cash register display screen. Written in square block letters in black ink was

“Well, that narrows it down to literally everyone. Frank, Smythe, me, either of you . . . anyone could have written that.” Savannah said as she looked over to Amanda and Edward.

Amanda said, “You have to tell the police that you've been threatened.”

Savannah sighed. “You're right. I'll give them a call. But, you know this might be something positive.”

“What could be positive about a burglary and being threatened?” Edward waved a hand to the note. “This is a serious threat.”

“It means we're getting close and someone is nervous. Nervous enough to risk a burglary charge.” Savannah paced around in a small circle. “How can we find out more about Gregory Smythe and Frank Lattimer?”

“Lattimer?” Amanda's voice pitched higher than normal. “Did you say Lattimer?”

Savannah stopped pacing. “Yes. What about it?”

“One of the resident old ladies in Mom's nursing home is a Vera Lattimer.”

“Yep, this is a small town. Frank's mother is named Vera and she is the right age to be in a nursing home. I remember meeting her when I was a kid. But there aren't loads of older ladies named Vera. It wasn't a very popular name. It's got to be her. When are you due to work there?”

“My official shifts are Sunday morning and Thursday evening. But since Mom lives there, I can come and go as I please—and I do.”

Edward held his hands up. “Hey, what are you two thinking?”

“I'm thinking of visiting Amanda's mother and then looking up an old friend. Vera Lattimer used to stop by the shop when Frank was working here. She might remember me and I can find out where Frank was last week.”

Amanda high-fived Savannah. “Awesome plan.”

“Let's get ready for class.”

Edward mouthed a
See you later
and escaped back to the Queen's Head.

As they walked back to the classroom, Savannah inhaled a quick breath. “Amanda, I've been thinking. It occurs to me that I need some temporary help here in the shop. Is that something you might be interested in doing to help me?”

Amanda squealed with delight, swooped over to Savannah, and embraced her with a full body hug. “Oh, I thought you would never ask. I would love, love, love to work in the shop. Can I start now, right now, please? Tomorrow would be fine, as well, but today is even better.”

“Today would be great. I've got to start getting home to have lunch with Rooney. It would be good to take over from my neighbor who has been letting him out. I can only pay you a little above minimum wage, but you would get all your supplies at wholesale prices. Fair warning, new assistant office manager—this may be very temporary. Good?”

“More than good!” She clapped her plump hands together like a child anticipating ice cream.

The front door jangled. Savannah checked her watch. It was still too early to start the class.

“Vanna. Hey, Vanna.”

“Good morning, Frank. You have the memory of a goldfish.”

“What?”

“I thought I was pretty clear at our meeting yesterday that I want you to call me Savannah, not Vanna. Why are you here anyway? I'm not ready to discuss an offer.”

“I want to get this wrapped up as quickly as possible. You know by now that my offer is fair.”

“I think your idea of fair is a good deal lower than my initial assessment of the value of Webb's.”

“We disagree there. I have some risk factors that you should consider. Maybe even some personal risk factors that might make a real difference in your decision. Is there anything I can do to speed things up?”

“No, there's nothing you can do.” She lightened her voice a tone. “By the way, I know you didn't get to Dad's funeral, but when was the last time you saw him?”

“Oh, it hasn't been very long. I can't remember the exact date.”

“Days, weeks, months?”

“Nope, just don't remember. My memory isn't as good as it used to be. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help you decide?”

“In fact, nothing is the best thing you can do to help me. I'll know by the end of the week.” She grinned her best customer smile, led him by the elbow toward the door, and opened it. “Definitely by the end of the week.”

Frank stopped abruptly. “How is the work on the church panels coming along? Who have you got working on them? It's not just you and the kid, is it? It's a large and important project and you've been away a long time.”

“I've got a class starting in a few minutes.”

“Now really, you don't want the reverend to have to cancel the contract, do you? That would really upset him to start legal action against you, one of his flock.”

“Frank, I said I would give it serious thought and that's what I'm doing.” She placed a firm hand flat on his chest and pushed him slowly but definitely out the door. “I'll have a lot more to say at our next meeting.”

The twins walked up to the door and fiercely glared Frank out of the way. They barged in by angling their work through the door and on into the classroom. Frank got the message. He silently waved, got in his car, and drove away.

Shortly, Nancy and Arthur Young followed the twins into the shop, and when Savannah entered the classroom Jacob was already in his seat.

“Is Suzy settled?”

“Yes, Miss Savannah.”

“Good morning everyone. This will be a fun lesson, I promise. Today we learn how to apply a thin strip of copper foil to each of the individual pieces of glass. The foil comes on a roll with an adhesive backing like a roll of tape. After that we apply the first layer of solder to form a solid panel. But first, let's make sure that your cut glass pieces are in the right place and fit together snugly.”

Savannah walked carefully between the tables. Jacob and Amanda's projects were aligned precisely within the template. “Good work. That's really nice cutting.”

She looked over Nancy and Arthur's sun catchers. “Just a little wiggle room here, Arthur.” She fingered one of the edge pieces. “This will interfere with the border if it's not straight. There's almost always some room for adjustment within the body of the piece. Unfortunately, this is a little too much out of tolerance. By that, I mean the piece is too big or too little. It's best to replace it with another piece.” Arthur nodded and prepared to cut yet one more.

“Let's see how you've done, Nancy.” Savannah pressed the pieces against each other. “See, this is what I mean. This piece is a little long, but its neighbor is a little short so that basically works out. If you like the look, keep it. If you don't like it, trim a little of the bigger piece and cut a new smaller piece.”

“Actually,” said Nancy, “I like the asymmetrical look of it as it is. It makes it refreshingly different from the run of the mill artwork.”

Savannah moved to the twins' worktable and looked at their fingernails. Her stomach sank. They were all painted. How on earth would she be able to tell them apart now?