The Emerald Key (7 page)

He scanned the room. A second door opened onto a tiny powder room; next to that, another door hung askew. He stepped through the broken jamb, flicked on the light switch with his pen, and descended a narrow flight of stairs. At the bottom, he found a small cellar with a low ceiling and rough stone walls. Along one side, open shelves held cans of paint and tools. Scattered across the floor, crushed boxes mingled with shredded Christmas and other holiday decorations. Against the opposite wall sat a small chest-type freezer and an ancient furnace that looked like Benjamin Franklin had installed it. He snapped pictures of the damage and returned to the first floor.

An open staircase led up the back wall. He climbed up to a small landing. He found a flimsy wooden door with a simple knob lock anyone with a coat hanger or credit card could break. But it looked like it hadn’t even been tried. No scratches. No splinters. All secure and undamaged. He looked back at the destruction below. So why hadn’t they?

He mentally categorized the break-in and the items that didn’t add up. This hadn’t been an ordinary looting. This had been personal and by someone looking for something specific and something small. He’d bet a year’s salary that something hung around Cass’ neck. He kept quiet as Cass entered the office area.

“My computer! I just finished paying it off!”

To Nic’s surprise, the glass in a picture hanging on the wall and two wood drawers shattered, like the cup had outside. He studied her. If her hair hadn’t been tied back in a braid, he’d almost bet the long strands would be standing out like someone touching one of those static balls in a science class. Her narrowed glare and balled fists told him more than words could of her agitation. As he’d told her, he kept an open mind on things, but the direction his thoughts were heading stretched the limit.

As he watched, Cass closed her eyes and he could see her physically struggle to contain her anger. When her eyes opened, he saw a different person—calm, resigned, not happy, but no longer raging. Interesting.

She knelt on the floor, her skirts billowing out around her, to pick up the pieces of her equipment, handling them as if each one held precious value. From what he could see, she wouldn’t be able to salvage anything.

“You have backups, don’t you?” Nic descended to the first level, grabbing the railing as he stepped on something that twisted his left ankle. Pain flared, nearly bringing him to his knees, but he drove it back, willing his body to remain upright, forcing a nonchalance he didn’t feel. The doctor and physical therapists assured him the bones had healed nicely, but the offending joint and muscles still ached like crazy, especially on cold, damp days, and often gave out when on steps or uneven ground. Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about the weather today so he could move relatively well, except when things like this happened. He managed to ignore the rest of his scars for the most part. They reminded him that he lived. He stayed still until the pain subsided to a dull roar.

*

Cass dropped the speaker she’d been holding. “Oh! You startled me. Yes, I have backups. They’re on a flash drive in my bag. Greg said my apartment hadn’t been touched.”

“You got lucky.” Nic picked up the monitor and set it on the table.

“Lucky? You call this lucky?” She threw a destroyed paperback at a box. “It’s all gone. The herbs and drinks can’t be saved, most of my inventory is trash. Tell me what’s lucky.”

Nic knelt by her. He had the strangest need to comfort her and protect her. Odd how he’d never felt that about anyone else. “But you’re all right. This is all stuff. It can be replaced.”

Her shoulders drooped and she sagged like a flower too long without water. “I know, but it’s a hassle. An expensive one.” She looked up as Greg joined them.

“You notice anyone hanging around lately who shouldn’t be?” Greg asked.

“You mean besides the usual crowd of bored teens? No, nobody new, nobody different…” She paused, thinking about the customer from the day before. “Nobody doing anything they haven’t done for years or looking weird or casing the joint.”

“But? You thought of someone?” Greg asked, then continued when she didn’t answer. “Come on, Cass, I’m just trying to do my job.”

“I know. I’m sorry. An odd customer came in yesterday. He asked about my jewelry and left when you came in. He only stayed a couple of minutes, so I didn’t get a name or anything.”

“Why does he stand out?” Nic asked.

“I don’t know. He looked clean-cut, nicely dressed, polite, British accent. I didn’t see anything unusual about him. But he gave me the creeps. I know, that’s not a scientific term and nothing you can base an investigation on. He just bothered me. And I think he’s the one I saw outside your place last night.”

“At Greg’s?” Nic asked.

“Yes. But I can’t be certain. I couldn’t see his face. Other than him and the e-mail, nothing weird has happened.” Cass wrapped her arms around her waist. “I have no idea who could have done this. We’ve been busy. This is our heaviest time of year. Lots of customers, the usual mix of new and old.”

“What about disgruntled employees?” Nic asked.

“There’s only Aunt Minerva and me.”

“Mostly Cass,” Greg said. “Minerva’s been out of town a lot lately, hasn’t she?”

“Yes. I take care of running the store while she takes care of other business.”

“What other business?”

Cass shrugged. “You’d have to ask her. She tells me when she’s leaving and when she’ll be back. I have her cell phone if I ever need to contact her. Other than that, I don’t know anything.”

“Can you give us some sort of estimate of the damage?” Greg asked.

Cass looked around the store and shook her head. “I’ll try to have something for you by the end of the day. What will you do? Do you have to take fingerprints or anything like that?”

Greg shook his head. “This is a store. There’d be too many for us to do anything with and we don’t have the manpower to spend weeks looking into that. I’m sorry, Cass.”

“Yeah, well thanks. I guess I’d better call Aaron.” Her insurance rates would skyrocket after this. She just knew it.

“I already called him. He’ll be here shortly. I’ll stop by Sam’s to get him to fix your door and let Dori know. Do you need anything else?”

“No. Thanks, Greg.”

Cass watched him leave with a sense of foreboding. Nic had kept a semblance of civility with Greg there, but she could almost see the waves of anger rolling off him. She steeled herself to ward off his rage.

“You want to tell me why you didn’t wait for me?”

His calm tone didn’t fool her. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s one of the most asinine answers I’ve ever heard. What if your stalker had still been here?”

“I had Aunt Minerva here.”

“And that makes it right? How am I supposed to protect you if you won’t play by the rules?”

“I never asked for your protection! I can take care of myself!” She jumped when a wood shelf wobbled and fell to the floor.

“Yeah, I can see that. If you don’t care about yourself, you should at least care about your aunt.”

“Did I hear my name?” Minerva strode into the office. “Of course, the way you two are yelling, half the town heard my name. Cassandra, Aaron is here about the insurance. We need to talk to him together. Now.”

“I’m coming.” Cass had the strangest urge to stick her tongue out at Nic. The man made her run hot and cold—mostly hot. Why? What made him so special? Steve had never made her feel that way. Guilt pulled at her, but she shrugged it off. She’d deal with that later. Right now, the store had priority.

An hour later, the insurance man had come and gone. Minerva had left for the local hardware store to get supplies, and Nic worked at rewiring her security alarms. She surveyed her shop and sighed. Time to get to work. But first, different clothes.

After a quick trip upstairs, she returned and started at the front door. A book by her foot hadn’t been damaged so she set it on a shelf. As soon as she did, the shelf fell. Cass swore, then went to the back to get a large empty box and place it near the front door. Then she sat on the floor and started going through her wares.

Fixable damage went to her left. No damage went to her right. Those items beyond repair went into the box. She had barely made a dent when she heard a noise. She looked up to see Minerva and several men and women from nearby shops, all toting cleaning or other supplies.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re here to help,” Minerva said.

“But their stores…”

“Business is slow today,” one man said and shrugged. She recognized him from a small music store down the street.

Cass blinked back tears. These people were their friends and neighbors. And a few people who’d be happier to see her sort of store gone. But they’d come. They’d either closed shop or left an employee in charge to come help her and Minerva on the busiest day of the week.

In a short time, they had broken into teams, some to sort inventory, others to restore shelves. The owner of a deli down the street kept them supplied with drinks and snacks. Several customers stopped by to express shock at the destruction. Some even stayed to help, including her customer from the previous day. A chill went through Cass as he entered, though nobody else seemed to be affected by him—nobody but Minerva. As Cass watched, Minerva strode over to the jewelry counter where the man had gone. The man glared at Minerva and Cass, then left as quickly as he’d entered. Cass put it in the back of her mind to mention the incident to Greg later.

At one point, the local news reporter showed up with his camera and interviewed her and Minerva. He snapped pictures of the damage and the people helping with the cleanup, then rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a broom.

Late in the morning, while Cass worked in the office, Minerva stepped in and sat a heavy mug of mulled cider on the desk in front of Cass. “Please try to leave this one in one piece. I lost enough inventory this morning.”

Cass took a sip of the warm drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Not an issue. I assume you’re in control?”

“As much as possible.”

Minerva perched on the edge of the desk. “I know you didn’t do this, but who could get past my wards?”

“Aunt Minerva! How can you even think I would do such a thing?”

“Remember my dining room the first time you threw a magic tantrum?”

Cass frowned at her. “I was six years old! Yes, I’ve had some minor slips since then, but nothing like this. I didn’t do this.”

“I know, dear. But we had wards set in addition to the security alarms. I know they cut the wires, but my wards are still intact.”

“At first, I thought maybe my customer from yesterday had done this. Something about him gave me the chills and when I scryed him, he saw me. But he showed up here with everyone else. If he’d done this, he wouldn’t have shown up again, would he? And what is the design burned in the floor? It looks almost like my pendant.”

Minerva pursed her lips and stared at Cass. “Are you wearing the pendant—the real one?”

Cass withdrew her necklace from under her blouse. “Yes. I’ve been wearing it almost constantly for the last week or so.”

“Good. Tuck it away and keep that safe. The rest we can deal with, but that must never be lost.”

“Aunt Minerva? Are you ever going to tell me what this pendant is and why, if it’s so important, you don’t put it in a safe or something?”

Minerva’s sigh sounded full of regret and frustration. “Honey, you know there are some mysteries that cannot be explained until the proper time?”

“Yes.”

“Trust me when I say this is one of those times. When needed, you will understand. I know that’s not an explanation, but I’m asking you to trust me on this.”

“As I do on everything, Aunt Minerva.”

She finished her cider and rose. “Guess we should get back out there.”

“I’m going to check up on some things, including your mysterious customer, which means I need to go back to my place. Will you be okay?”

“I’m fine. Go. The sooner we figure this out, the better I’ll feel.”

By late afternoon, the worst of the damage had been cleared away, and the helpers had gone back to their own lives. A new, reinforced glass door replaced the broken one in the front and a freshly painted metal-clad one hung between the store and the office. The cellar door had also been replaced. Unfortunately, most of the stock would have to be discarded or sold as damaged. And they’d have to get a new computer as hers couldn’t be repaired. Until then, they’d have to rely on her aunt’s laptop.

Throughout the day, Cass kept wondering why someone would do this to her store. Although she and Minerva made enough to keep food in the cupboards and a roof over their heads, nobody could say the store made a lot of money. Besides, the cash register hadn’t been touched, nor had the most expensive jewelry or other costly goods. Why? It didn’t make sense. Neither did straight vandalism. Their small town had its share of problems, but nothing like this had ever happened, especially to Minerva. Nobody would risk making her aunt angry. Too many questions spun round her brain. But no answers came.

The phone rang as she worked at arranging her charms in the new case.

“Madam Minerva’s.”

“Cass? I just heard about the shop. Are you all right?”

Cass chewed her lip at the sound of Steve’s voice. Funny, but other than when she first found the break-in, she hadn’t thought about him all day. “Steve! Hi. Yes, I’m fine. The store sustained quite a bit of damage, but we’ve gotten most of it cleaned up. Where are you?”

“Philly. I told you, you should get rid of that place. It attracts the wrong kind of people.”

“My customers didn’t do this.” A frisson of distrust wove through her, tightening her shoulders. He’d just heard? But she knew Greg had called him earlier and told him. He’d known all day about the store. Before she could ask him anything, he rushed on. In the background, she heard what sounded like a woman’s voice calling him, but the noise and bad connection made it difficult to hear.

“Well as long as you’re okay. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you.” She frowned at the dead phone. He’d been in a hurry to ring off. Wait. Philly? Tomorrow? That was where he’d gone? And he was supposed to be back tonight. She didn’t understand. Cass hung up the phone and shook her head. She didn’t need any more questions. But they would definitely have a talk when he did finally return. She didn’t know if they could remain friends, but they were definitely no longer a couple. Not even casually. After meeting Nic, she knew Steve would never work for her on any level. Time to make a clean cut.