by Lynn Cahoon
“Interesting.” He nodded to the pots behind me. “I’ll take you up on that coffee.”
I filled a large travel mug with coffee, then put several different éclairs in a box. “Interesting, that’s all you got?”
“I’ll have Amy check to see if any applications have been filed with the city. I’m surprised you didn’t ask her yesterday. I’ll see you tonight.” He leaned over the counter and kissed me.
Deek came into the shop and held the door open for Greg. “Nice to see you, police dude.”
He ambled over to the counter where he stood at the sink, washing his hand.
“You can call him Greg. You know who he is.” I crossed over to the couch where I’d left my book. It was time to set up for the meeting.
“Police dude is a term of endearment and respect.” Deek glanced around at the dining room. “You want me to set up the tables first?”
I pointed to the office. “Yes, and handle any customers too. I’ve got to check my e-mail.”
“Multitasking at its finest.” Deek waved a quick salute then went around the counter again to move tables and chairs. I’d wondered how the laid back perpetual student would do in our staff family, but I shouldn’t have worried. Toby and Nick thought he was cool and Aunt Jackie had made it her personal mission to fatten the new employee up a little. The two book clubs he ran for teens and the middle-grade kids loved him as much or maybe even more than they’d loved Sasha. Although I’d never tell her that.
I flipped open my laptop and checked my e-mail. I had one from Amy. Score! But when I opened it, I realized she hadn’t sent me what I’d requested. Instead, it was a quick response saying the file on the doll seller was missing and she was looking for it. Bill wouldn’t be happy about it, but he was going to have to wing it when he introduced Vladimir Petrov as our newest town resident.
Vladimir had purchased the building where Killing Time, the clock shop that had opened and closed just as fast this summer, had been located. Amy had said he got it for a steal since the former owner needed the money to pay his defense counsel. I just hoped all the bad juju had left the building with Ian and his clocks.
Since I had nothing to give Bill, I googled Vladimir Petrov but came up with so many hits it was impossible to determine which ones, if any, were related to our new shop owner. So I googled stacking dolls instead and typed up a few notes for Bill to use to describe the new store, Russian Collectibles.
I thought about his daughter and wondered if he’d bring her along. She and Deek could hang out in the children’s section of the bookstore unless a customer wandered in during the meeting. Typically, I saw people peek in and after seeing the group gathered around the table, they’d slowly step away from the door. Between the lost customers and the cost of coffee and treats, the meeting cost me a fortune. At least the town always paid the invoice for the catering when I sent it over. Bill always overrode any objections the mayor brought up to paying the costs at the council meeting.
“Shouldn’t you be out there with the group?” Aunt Jackie stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching me.
“I was putting the final touches on Bill’s agenda. How long have you been standing there?” Aunt Jackie’s arthritis seemed to be doing better the last month or so. According to Harrold, her new doctor had her on a better medicine for the pain and she looked brighter and more settled.
“Just a few minutes. I’m always struck by how deeply you get involved with things. Even as a kid, if you were reading a book, you wouldn’t move until it was done.” She crossed the floor and ran her hand down my unruly hair.
“I’d meant to pull it up before people came,” I started but it was too late now. I could hear the group milling around the dining room.
“You look fine. Beautiful even.” My aunt kissed my cheek. “I just want to tell you how much you mean to me.”
I side eyed her suspiciously. “Thank you. Now what do you want?”
She jerked back. “Why did you ask that?”
“Come on, you never throw out compliments, even when I’ve almost been killed.” According to the clock, we were starting in less than ten minutes. I needed to get this agenda to Bill. I stood, waiting for her answer.
“I guess I just want you to be happy.”
Okay, now she was worrying me. “Look, I’ve got to get in there. Can I come up to the apartment after the meeting and we can talk?”
“Of course, dear.” My aunt smiled and for once, I didn’t hear a trace of sarcasm in her tone. Had meeting Harrold and getting engaged finally thrown her over the deep end? Did I have the right to place her in the happy farm if need be? Or did engagement trump niece and that was now Harrold’s responsibility?
I watched her turn around and head up the stairs. When the door to her apartment closed, I whispered, who are you and what have you done with my aunt? A knock sounded at the door and Deek poked his head inside.
“Dude, you really have to get out here.” He disappeared and then came back inside the office. “Am I supposed to make more coffee if the carafes aren’t all filled?”
I hit print on the wiki I’d found about stacking dolls and grabbed the pages as they printed. I couldn’t really be mad at him since he hadn’t worked a Business-to-Business meeting yet. I should have been out there directing him. “I’ll be right out, and yes, make more coffee.”
I took a big breath and walked into the fray.
People were clustered into small groups, talking. I saw the plates of éclairs Deek had set out were almost empty. Sadie had a winner with these. I leaned closer to Deek. “Fill these and then watch for ones on the table to empty during the meeting. Normally, they’ll signal you, but sometimes you’ll just see them try to pour from an empty carafe.”
I took the carafe Deek had just filled and walked out to the table where Darla was talking to Bill. “I hate to interrupt, but here is some information about Vladimir’s new shop. I didn’t get the business license file from Amy yet.”
“It’s so cosmopolitan for us to have a real life Russian in our town.” Darla beamed as she gushed. “I’ve been trying to get him to agree to an interview, but no luck so far. You can bet his arrival will be the highlight of my report on the meeting though.”
Darla wrote for the South Cove Gazette. She was their only reporter, and if her editor, Rusty, had anything to do with it, Darla would be the only employee as soon as he decided to retire. Of course, living on the beach and publishing a small weekly newspaper had been the original retirement plans for the New York Times editor when he moved here ten years ago. Now, I heard he was planning on spending the next ten years traveling the world. Just as soon as he found someone to take over.
Which he’d been talking about for at least two years. I got it. Some people don’t like change. I count myself in that group. I looked around the room for our new member. “I thought he’d be here by now.”
“Actually, I got a call from him this morning. His daughter is ill and he’s going to have to skip this meeting.” Bill pocketed the paper I’d printed. “Make sure you put his introduction on next month’s agenda. I’m sure you’ll be able to get me additional information by then.”
As he walked away, Darla huffed. “What’s got his goat this morning? He was all grouchy when we were talking.”
“I don’t know.” I watched as Bill made his way to the front of the table which was his nonverbal cue that the meeting was about to start. “Looks like we’re getting started on time for once.”
“Shoot. I was going to ask you if you knew anything about the guy who was killed at The Castle. Rumor is that he was gunned down in a mob hit.” She pulled out a small notebook and waited for my reaction.
“Seriously? You need a better gossip source. Levi wasn’t gunned down and I don’t think he was on the mob’s hit list. He was a software designer.” I studied her as she quickly scribbled notes on a clean page. Feeling suspicious, I asked, “Did you really hear that or was it a ploy to get information from me?”
&
nbsp; “A girl’s gotta have her tricks.” Darla shrugged. “And as usual, you don’t have any better information than I do. I guess since Greg isn’t investigating, your pillow talk hasn’t been about the murder.”
“Our pillow talk is never about murders.” That was the problem with living with someone in law enforcement. Everyone thought you knew everything. But I didn’t want to look like an informational gold digger.
“Jill, can you and Darla take your seats?” Bill called from the front of the room. “We’re waiting on you.”
Everyone turned and watched as Darla and I made our way to the table. Whispers filled the room, but I made my face as calm as possible. No way was I going to let rumors fly about any catfight between the two of us.
“Sorry, Bill. Just catching up.” I slipped into a seat next to Amy who raised her eyes in an unspoken question. I shook my head and she turned back to her laptop. Amy had started coming to the meeting as our official scribe. This way, the notes went directly to the council and the mayor and I didn’t have to make a monthly appearance at the council meeting to report.
Although I had been voluntarily attending those meetings lately, it was interesting hearing the different opinions about city projects and festivals. Of course, I wanted to speak up at times, mostly to disagree with the mayor, but I kept my mouth shut. I was finally beginning to enjoy my role as the business liaison to the South Cove Council. I didn’t want to jeopardize it by speaking my piece when the mayor was just blowing stupid smoke.
“So we have a short agenda today.” Bill started the meeting and we moved into talking about the holiday festival. Darla ran South Cove’s festivals with an iron fist. Tina, the mayor’s wife, had tried to usurp the position one year, but bailed when it got hard. Darla had graciously taken back over with the promise from the council and the mayor that she would be given total authority over any festivals she wanted to develop.
Mary, Bill’s wife and copartner in the bed-and-breakfast they ran, stood first and talked about what had worked and what hadn’t based on comments from our visitors, both in the drop box by Santa’s Village and online. She’d also done a comprehensive survey of the business owners a few months after the event which included sales estimates and customer numbers. At the end, it was clear that having the festivals increased customer traffic for all of the businesses that were open during the last holiday season.
“I can’t say we got a lot of increased traffic.” Sherry King, owner of Vintage Duds—and Greg’s ex-wife—spoke up. “Our sales were down in December.”
Mary flipped through the notes she had. “That’s odd, I could have sworn that everyone had increased sales.”
“Maybe your sales were down because you and Pat took that two-week cruise right before Christmas and closed your shop during one of the busiest retail times of the year.” I pointed out Sherry’s error. The girl didn’t want to work, but man, she liked to whine.
Mary pointed at a sheet. “Here it is, Jill’s right, Vintage Duds was closed from December 15 to January 5. But the sales you made between Thanksgiving and when you closed were higher than the year before.”
Sherry glared at me. Apparently she’d forgotten it was hard to be profitable if the doors weren’t open and the owners were cruising the Caribbean.
Darla took over and laid out her plan. We were going to have a traditional fifties Christmas theme. Josh beamed as Darla pointed out that he and Kyle had submitted the winning proposal from last month’s contest. “There were some great suggestions, but this one just felt right.”
I leaned closer to Amy. “And I bet Josh has a huge supply of vintage Christmas items he’ll have on sale during the period.”
Amy snorted and Bill frowned at us. That was twice I’d gotten dinged for bad behavior during the meeting. I needed to settle down.
I leaned back and focused on Darla’s presentation, thinking about ways the coffee shop could participate. Maybe a special coffee drink for the season? We typically did a peppermint hot chocolate or coffee, but I could figure out something else. Like the old hot toddies my mom had made as soon as the weather turned cold. Sans the alcohol that is. Or maybe some kind of eggnog-based treat? I’d have to talk to Aunt Jackie. Since she’d been working in a café in the fifties, maybe she’d have some ideas. I’d invite Sadie to the meeting also and we’d brainstorm treats to sell alone with the drinks.
Amy elbowed me and I looked up from my doodling. “What?”
She nodded toward Bill. I’d missed a cue or a question.
“Are you with us now?” Bill asked and this time, even Mary looked at him questioningly. I wasn’t the only one hearing the snark in his voice.
“Sorry Bill, I was brainstorming about Darla’s idea.” I forced my lips into a curve. “What did you ask again?”
“I asked if you wanted to be part of Darla’s design committee. It sounds like you are very intrigued by the idea. We’ll just put you down on the list.”
I smiled, even though I wanted to throw my cup at him.
Darla clapped her hands, a big smile on her face as she spoke. “Then the committee is all set. Thank you all for graciously volunteering your time. The committee will meet here tomorrow to get this thing rolling. If that’s okay with you Jill, around ten?”
“Of course.” I was going to have to figure out a way to bow out or better yet, get Aunt Jackie to take over. This would keep her busy and out of my hair or over planning the wedding.
“The Castle representatives were going to present a proposal to the group, but with all the fuss there this weekend, that project is on hold.” He held up a gavel. “If there is no other business…”
Josh held up a hand. “I’d like to discuss the trash receptacles we have on the streets. I think they make the area look dirty.”
“Then we’ll close.” Bill banged the gavel as if Josh hadn’t spoken.
As people got up to leave, Josh lumbered toward me. “I hate it when he does that.”
CHAPTER 9
I wasn’t sure what project Bill had been talking about, but by the time I’d promised Josh that trash cans would be a hot topic on next month’s agenda, Bill and Mary had already left. I helped Deek put the dining room back in order and asked him if he’d had any questions on the process.
“No, dudette. It seems simple. I set up the room, pour coffee, set out food, and then keep them in coffee until the angry guy bangs his gavel.” Deep pushed the last chair back under a table.
So he’d picked up on Bill’s attitude too. I wondered what might have put our chairman in a bad mood and the only thing I could think of was The Castle project. Amy had closed her laptop and hurried out almost as soon as Bill’s gavel descended. Maybe Greg would be able to push her to find the information. But the first file I’d asked her about this week had disappeared. I wasn’t holding my breath for the second one, even if Greg was the one pushing for it.
The bell over the door chimed and Lois and Allison walked in. I walked over to greet them. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“The police won’t let us leave town, so we thought we’d come visit and get some reading material. Everything at The Castle is years old.” Lois squeezed me tight. “How are you doing with all of this? I mean, what a welcome to the group.”
“At least she’ll never have to deal with drunk Levi’s wandering hands.” Allison picked up a book off the rack. “Ooh, I’ve been meaning to read this. Do you have the full series?”
“I think so.” I waved Deek closer. “Hey, take Allison over to the YA section and see if we have the rest of the series.”
After they moved away, Lois sank into a chair. “Sorry about that. Allison’s new to the group too so she doesn’t know we don’t air our dirty laundry in public.”
“Was Levi that bad?” I sat down at the table too, wondering if this had been the subject that sent Butch off that night.
“Why do you think Mikey has been married so many times?” Lois pushed her hair back. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but
we were so happy Levi was finally settling down. Jessica didn’t put up with crap from him. And he needed a strong hand.”
“Is that why Butch was upset the other night?”
Lois shook her head. “No. Levi never saw me as a conquest. Probably because I shut him down hard the first time he even tried to be funny with me. He brushed it off as a joke, but I think if I’d let him, he would have pushed. Typically, what Levi wanted, Levi got.”
“Then why was Butch upset?” Allison was coming back to the table with a pile of books. I didn’t think Lois would be this open in front of another wife.
“He thought Levi cheated him out of a new project he was working on. Look, I don’t have the details, Butch is pretty tight-lipped when it comes to Levi.” She looked past me and grinned at the returning Allison. “You won’t be swimming for a week.”
“The outdoor pool is closed anyway since that’s where, well, where they found him.” Allison pointed to Lois. “Do you want a coffee? Deek says he makes a mean mocha.”
Lois stood. “A mocha would be lovely. Excuse me, Jill. I need to pick up some books for me and MaryAnne. Jessica, of course, is way too upset to focus on reading.”
I’d been dismissed for breaking the group’s cardinal rule. Don’t talk about the group. I watched as the women chatted at the bookcases. Then I waved to Deek. “I’ve got to take off. You okay here alone for a few?”
“A man is never alone as long as he has a book to read.” Deek waved his hands indicating the bookshelves. “I’ll be fine.”
I was still thinking about Butch and his fight with Levi. If his wife didn’t know what it was about, maybe Greg did. Just because the men didn’t talk to their wives about group business, maybe they did talk to each other. I remembered watching the five men surrounding the patio table, shaded from the afternoon sun by a large striped umbrella. Most of the time, they’d been laughing, but once, when I’d looked over, they were more quiet—heads bowed together like they were sharing a secret. Don’t let them fool you, men gossip even more than women do. I always heard the best rumors from Toby, my midday barista. Of course, the fact he also worked nights as a deputy for Greg made his gossip more accurate, and a whole lot juicier.
