Candy Shop Mystery - Goody Goody Gunshots Part 6

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, "h.e.l.lo-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 sweats.h.i.+rt 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 gla.s.s and cupped her hands around her eyes so she could peer inside. "h.e.l.lo?"

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 gla.s.s and beaming at me. "I'm your new clerk. Karen hired me on Sat.u.r.day."

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 sweats.h.i.+rt 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 finis.h.i.+ng 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 a.s.sured 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 c.o.ke 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 n.o.body 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 s.p.a.ce 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 makes.h.i.+ft 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?"

I stood on tiptoe, trying to see what I wanted on the round displays and wooden tables squeezed into the s.p.a.ce. Gavin had come to town at exactly the right time to open his shop, while the real estate was still affordable. The way taxes had soared in the past few years, I doubted either of us would've been able to open a shop in the middle of town now.

"I'm looking for some exercise clothes," I told him. "Something I can wear to the gym or outside if I ever get brave enough to exercise in public."

Gavin squeezed between two round hanging displays and motioned for me to follow. "Taking up jogging?"

"Maybe." I knocked a s.h.i.+rt to the floor and bent to pick it up. "I've started coaching one of the Youth League basketball teams, and it seems like a good time to get in shape."

Gavin shot a look over his shoulder. "You're coaching? Which team?"

"Technically, I'm the a.s.sistant coach," I said. "My nephews are on the Miners."

That made Gavin stop dead in his tracks. "You're coaching with Kerry Hendrix?"

"Yeah. Don't ask."

He laughed without humor and started walking again. "Okay, I won't. But Kerry's not exactly an easy man to get along with. You probably ought to know that if you don't already."

"Thanks. I wish I'd talked to you last week. How well do you know him?"

Gavin reached a rack near the back of the store and stopped walking. "Well enough to know that he can be an a.s.s-hole. Just don't let him push you around, okay?"

I smiled ruefully. "Thanks. It's hard to know how much to argue with him. I don't want to embarra.s.s the boys."

Gavin smiled. "Yeah. Touchy. Kids that age have a tough time. So what kind of exercise are you thinking of doing?"

I shrugged. "My parents gave me a gift certificate for the recreation center last year. I thought maybe I'd check out their exercise equipment."

"So you're thinking treadmill? Stair-stepper? Maybe the elliptical?"

Just hearing him list the choices made me tired, but I nodded. "Something like that."

"Then you're going to want the stuff in this corner. You want me to help you find sizes?"

Was he kidding? I liked Gavin, but there was some information n.o.body had about me. "If I told you what size I wear," I said with a roll of my eyes, "I'd have to kill you. I can manage, thanks. Do you have any recommendations?"

He pointed out a couple of good brands, showed me where to find the dressing room when I was ready, and left me to look through the depressingly small, tight clothes by myself. The idea of stuffing myself into any of the things on the first rack almost made me choke, but I didn't let myself give up. There was no law that said I had to wear one of those spandex/sports bra combinations when I exercised.

Freeing myself from the constraints of selecting an outfit, I browsed for twenty frustrating minutes before I found two pairs of workout pants I thought might fit me, and two actual T-s.h.i.+RTS, both of which looked like they belonged on someone Caleb's age. Inside the dressing room, I struggled into the first outfit, saw what I looked like in that T-s.h.i.+rt, and decided then and there that "stylish" and "workout" were not words destined to meet in my vocabulary. I'd leave style to Nicolette.

By the time I returned the T-s.h.i.+rts and carried the pants to the register, night was beginning to fall. Gavin rang up the sale, ran my debit card through, and folded the pants and receipt into a bag. "Enjoy," he said as he handed it over to me. "And forget what I said about Kerry Hendrix. He's not the nicest guy in the world, but he's okay."

"Don't worry," I a.s.sured him, "you didn't tell me anything new. He accused me of vandalizing his truck the other night, so I already know just how friendly he is."

Gavin's smile faded. "He accused you of what?"

Briefly, I explained about the truck and seeing the man limping away from it. "Of course Kerry doesn't believe that I'm innocent," I said as I finished the story, "because he didn't see the guy or the SUV that picked him up. I think Brody, Caleb, and I are the only people who have seen him."

"The guy with the limp?" Gavin asked. "Short guy? Hasn't shaved in a few days?"

My head shot up with a snap. "Yes, have you seen him?"

"Yeah, a couple of times. As a matter of fact, I saw him walk by the store while you were in the dressing room."

"Just now?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Did you see where he went?"

Gavin shook his head. "He was walking past the store going west. That's all I know."

"How long ago?"

"I don't know. Five, ten minutes."

Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag from him and bolted for the door. "Do me a favor," I called back as I ran. "Call the police and ask for Detective Jawarski. Tell him what you told me."

"Wait a second. Abby!"

He shouted something else, but I was already gone. The limping man had slipped through my fingers twice already. I wasn't going to let him do it again.

Chapter 13.

Max was waiting for me right where I'd left him. He leaped to his feet when he saw me come through the door, alert and ready for anything. Too bad he couldn't tell me where the man with the limp had gone.

I glanced in both directions as I untied Max's leash from the bench leg. To the east lay the town square, mostly empty this time of night. To the west, Prospector Circle, City Hall and a bunch of other deserted city offices including the police station. Across the street a couple of customers milled about inside Curl Up and Dye. Beside it, the credit union's windows were dark.

Gavin had said that the limping man pa.s.sed his store heading west, but it seemed doubtful that he'd make a run for the police station, which meant that he'd probably turned onto Twelve Peaks Road at the next corner. Where he'd gone from there was anybody's guess.

Chasing him might have been foolhardy, but I was still angry about the stunt he and his friend had pulled at Hammond Junction, and I wasn't interested in taking the rap for the damage he'd done to Hendrix's truck.

Holding on to the slim hope that I'd be able to find him, I ran to the corner and checked the street in both directions. Max followed eagerly, interested, if slightly confused, by this fun new activity.

"Where'd he go, boy? Did you see him? The man with the limp?"

Max planted his b.u.t.t on the sidewalk and panted. I appreciated his enthusiasm, but I wished he could be a little more help.