by Shelly West
A knock at the door made all three of them jump. Abigail spun around, seeing what looked to be… a customer?
The spry redheaded man asked, his voice muffled by the door, “Is the store open?”
Abigail nodded eagerly, rushing over to open the door. “Yes, I’m running the place while Grandma’s recovering.”
The man frowned. “Grandma?”
“You know. The owner of this store.”
“Oh,” he said, apparently unaware.
By his accent, Abigail was starting to think he wasn’t from around here. She situated herself over at the checkout counter, not wanting to hover over the guy and scare off her only customer.
The man browsed quietly, seeming to be looking for something in particular. Abigail wondered if she should ask to help him, or if that’d be too pushy.
Finally he stopped wandering around and asked Abigail directly, “You wouldn’t happen to have seen a man who looks a bit like me, have you?”
Abigail lowered the book she had been pretending to read and observed the man more closely. He looked Scottish or Irish maybe, with pale skin and that very red hair. She figured she would have remembered anyone who looked remotely like him. “No. I’m new in town so you might have better luck asking someone else. Who are you looking for in particular?”
The man hesitated, seeming to decide against telling Abigail any further details. “Forget I asked.” He looked around, grabbed a glass paperweight and brought it to the counter for purchase.
He seemed to have picked the item at random, but Abigail wasn’t about to question her first sale. “Okay,” she said, picking up the paper weight, finding a price sticker on the bottom. “That’ll be four dollars.”
The man pulled out his wallet, handing her a five. “Keep the change.”
Abigail awkwardly glanced over at the register, realizing she had no idea how to open it up. “Erm… Thank you for your purchase. Have a nice day.” She tucked the money under the register, figuring she’d ask Grandma how to open it later.
The man remained where he stood. “Receipt?”
Abigail froze. “Um, well… I actually don’t know how to print up a receipt.”
The man sighed. “I need a receipt so I can write this off.”
“Write it off? Why?”
“As a business expense. I run an antique store out of New Jersey.”
“New Jersey?” Abigail perked up. “That’s a little ways away. What brings you here?”
The man waved her off. “Never mind. If you see a man who looks related to me, call this number, okay?” He handed Abigail a business card before taking off.
Abigail stood there and frowned for a few moments, wondering if all customer interactions were going to be as odd as that one. She looked down at the card, seeing that the guy’s name and business had been marked off in pen, leaving only his phone number readable.
Abigail looked up the number on her phone’s internet browser. It wasn’t registered to any business, but it was definitely a New Jersey number, so he hadn’t lied about that. But why mark off his own name and business? She examined the card from various angles and lighting, until finally she gave up on trying to read the scratched off information.
She’d have to ask Grandma about him, along with getting the cash register’s combination…
Feeling suddenly famished, Abigail headed to the kitchen and foraged for something to eat. After having a light dinner, she cleaned up and turned off the light to the kitchen. With a sigh, she decided it’d be best to close up for the evening.
“Come on, Thor,” Abigail said as she started turning off the lights and locking up. “You don’t even fit on that bed, you big doofus.”
Thor looked up at her, seeming to register the word ‘doofus’ as he grunted. She snapped her fingers and he got up, climbing the stairs ahead of her. Abigail paused halfway up the stairs, seeing Missy dart to her bed. After a few frantic circles, the dog plopped down, thus reclaiming her throne.
She sure was frightful for such a proud dog. But then again, Missy was without her owner, which must’ve been scary for her.
At least Missy would be downstairs to watch the front door. Abigail knew rest wouldn’t come easy tonight, after learning there had been a dead body in the house only a few days before, but she’d try her best. Tomorrow was her first day officially running the store, after all.
Chapter 10
Abigail opened up the shop early after she called Grandma at the hospital for the cash register’s combination. Sure, it was a Monday, and business would probably be slow, but Abigail wanted to be as prepared as possible for her next customer.
That enthusiasm soon dwindled after an hour of solitude. Not one person had so much as driven by, and it wasn’t like the shop was that hidden away. The antique store sat on a side road off the main street, but it was still visible from afar, and had a large sign proclaiming its existence. Abigail had even put out a few larger statues and yard art, hoping that’d make it more obvious that the place was open.
But alas, no luck, and Abigail was left alone with nothing but the sound of her thoughts and ticking clocks.
Finally the bell at the front door jingled, and Abigail nearly jumped, having been so occupied by her smartphone. She stood, ready to let out her best ‘Good morning!’ only to see it was Sally Kent.
Abigail was partly disappointed, but also partly relieved, because she really had no idea what she was doing. “Hey, Sally. You caught me on my first official day running the place.”
“How about that?” Sally said with a wide smirk as she kneeled to pet Missy. The dog must’ve known her well, because all shyness seemed to escape Missy as she wagged her tail.
Eventually Sally stood up and looked around. “Sure is quiet around here, huh? There’s usually at least a few customers around by this time.”
Abigail shrugged. “I only had one customer yesterday. Everyone’s probably assuming the place is closed since Grandma’s still in the hospital.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. The whole town’s well aware of her condition. It’s all everyone seems to talk about these past couple of days.”
“She’s a big hit around town, I take it?”
Sally snickered. “Oh, you betcha. And once the town catches wind that her granddaughter is visiting… Oh boy, you’re gonna get swarmed!”
Abigail wasn’t sure how much she’d like that. “Man, after all these years in the city, I’m used to being just another face in the crowd.”
“Well, get ready to lose that anonymity real quick. You’re lucky I’m no gossip, but somebody else will catch on soon enough, then you can kiss your peace and quiet goodbye.”
Abigail let out a sigh. “Customer service was never my strong suit. I hope Grandma gets better soon…”
Sally pursed her lips in thought. “How about before that happens, I show you around town? It’s not like you’re going to be getting any customers today anyway. I still have an hour before I open up.”
“Open up?” Abigail asked as she was already grabbing her bag and jacket. It was a bit cramped in there, so she was ready for any excuse to head out.
“I run a coffee shop bookstore. It’s called the Book Cafe. I mostly specialize in antique and rare books, which is why Granny and I have a good rapport. We send customers each other’s way, since there’s a bit of a crossover.”
“Now a book cafe I can get behind. It’s been a while since I had a cup of coffee. My head’s been killing me, but I have no idea where Grandma keeps her coffee maker.” Abigail held open the front door, motioning that Sally step out with her.
“She has a French press that I gave her a while back,” Sally said as she headed out onto the porch. “It’s probably in one of her cupboards. But don’t worry, I’ll hook you up with a strong cup after I show you around town, if you’d like.”
Abigail smiled. “Sally, I think you just might be my new best friend.” She turned the ‘Closed’ sign, locked the door, then followed Sally down the str
eet.
Abigail didn’t want to admit it, but part of her was envious of Sally for knowing Grandma so well. Of course, she knew it wasn’t Sally’s fault. It was her mother who had cut her off from her entire family. So far, Sally was everything her mother wasn’t: kind, accepting, and willing to share.
With that realization, Abigail decided to set aside her negative thoughts and instead focused on the excitement of getting to learn what this town was all about.
She just hoped that it wouldn’t be as murderous as first impressions led her to believe…
Chapter 11
Abigail walked alongside Sally, breathing in the salty air, feeling the cool breeze on her face as the ocean air swept in from the shore. “It’s so quiet,” she remarked. Usually by this time, the city was awash with engines, horns, sirens, and the vague sound of what one could assume was cursing. Stuff like, ‘Get a move on, you—’
Abigail dared not fill in the blanks. “Is it always so serene here?”
Sally nodded. “During the off season, anyway. The tourists sure do make a fuss in the summer and winter. They come in the summer for the seaside scene, and visit in the winter for our Christmas attractions.”
It only took them ten minutes to reach downtown by foot, where quaint old buildings lined the main street. Abigail could even see the water from here, various boat masts stretching to the sky.
“You ever see a candlepin bowling alley before?” Sally asked, stopping next to the first building they came across.
Abigail looked up at the structure, seeing what looked like an old-timey version of a bowling alley. She noticed the lettering on the door, which read ‘Madsen Candlepin Lanes.’ “Candlepins? Are you supposed to try to knock them over before the wax sticks them to the floor or something?”
Sally snorted. “How about I just show you? Kirby Madsen opens real early. I bet you he’s in there fixing a pinball machine right now. Those things always break down on him.”
“You sure it’s open?”
Sarah got a mischievous look on her face. “Only one way to find out.” She tried the handles of double doors, and they clicked open. She headed on in before Abigail could stop her.
Abigail followed. The place was den-like, as one would expect a bowling alley to be, lit with warm lights throughout. A cubby-hole of eight lanes was the main feature of the place, with an arcade and bar opposite it. Abigail expected displays and an electronic score-keeping system, but all she saw were paper and pencils for keeping track.
She then noticed the pins, oddly shaped from what she was used to. They were shaped much like their namesake, tall candles weighted evenly from top to bottom. The balls were much smaller too.
Abigail jerked when Sally announced, “There you are!” She turned to see Sally greet the owner of the place, Kirby.
The guy looked very German with his neatly combed dark hair and the face of a disapproving professor. That was, when he eyed Abigail. When he turned his gaze to Sally, his face softened, though only so much. “Who might your friend be?” he asked with a deep, slightly accented voice.
“Abigail. She’s new in town!”
Kirby looked hopefully toward the lanes. “Have you brought her here to play a round?”
Sally paused awkwardly. “Well, no, but maybe later? I’m just showing her around town and introducing her to people.”
“Ah,” Kirby responded, the hope escaping his face. Abigail guessed he didn’t get much business, at least during the off-season.
Something about his face made it hard to have much sympathy for him though. Abigail felt like he’d be giving her an F on an assignment at any moment.
“She is a new resident?” Kirby stated more than inquired, eyeing Abigail pointedly. She couldn’t discern his accent, but it was something related to German.
Sally glanced back and waved Abigail over. “Not a resident. She’s just visiting. And would you believe it? She’s Granny’s granddaughter!”
Kirby’s face only grew more stern. “What odd timing,” he noted.
“Odd how?” Sally responded, almost defensively.
“Odd that she has only come to visit after Mrs. Lane is dying in the hospital.”
“Dying? Jeez, you’re so dire, Kirby! Granny’s on her way to a full recovery.”
Kirby paused, seeming to be caught off guard by that. “Ah. Is she now? I am pleased to hear it.”
Something about the clipped way he spoke rubbed Abigail the wrong way. They had yet to exchange a direct word with one another, but the peering gaze they shared more than made up for it.
“Um,” Sally interjected. “Anyway, we gotta get going. I only have so much time to show her around before I gotta open up shop.”
“I’ll be seeing you,” Kirby said rather sharply, still eyeballing Abigail.
They huddled off, and once they were outside, Abigail whispered to Sally, “Attempted murder suspect number one, am I right?”
Sally snorted again. “Kirby? He’d never! He’s just… you know, odd. But harmless.”
“That guy looked like he could wrestle a grizzly bear—and win.”
Sally waved her off. “You should see his brother then!”
“Brother?” Abigail prodded, feeling like she might be onto something. Whoever was in Grandma’s store that night, they carried a body out of the building, so that narrowed potential suspects down to strong individuals.
“Yeah, his brother Dag.”
“Kirby and Dag, huh? Weird names.”
“They’re Scandinavian or something. I think they both have Viking blood in them, by the way they look. Especially Dag…” Sally’s voice trailed off dreamily before she cleared her throat and pretended nothing happened. “Across the street’s the toy store. Mr. Yamamoto’s Toys and Games. They keep shorter hours during the off season, but you can at least look at the window display.”
She immediately began crossing the street, paying no heed to traffic—not that there was traffic to pay heed to. Not a revving engine to be heard for miles.
As Abigail followed Sally, she asked, “Is it tough keeping a business open in such a quiet town?”
“Yeah, if you’re not smart with your budgeting and savings. Summer and holidays bring a ton of business, so the key to staying open is squirreling away those tourist bucks for the winter, you know?”
“That makes sense.” Still, it was a foreign concept to Abigail. The city was busy all year around, and only got busier during the holidays. The only time things ever got quiet there was during a blizzard, and even then, some businesses would still be open.
Once they reached the toy store, Abigail did a double take at the display window. She didn’t expect much from afar, but up close the window display housed a slew of intricate automata and wooden devices that looked like they’d come to life with a mere crank of the wheel.
“When you said ‘toys,’ I thought you meant kid stuff.”
“What do you mean?”
Abigail motioned at the display. “This stuff looks so intricate and delicate. Like collectibles to be kept behind glass.”
“Oh yeah. Well, Mr. Yamamoto builds most of the toys himself, and collects antique automata too. He likes to explain to his young customers how the mechanics work. Knowing what makes the toys click inspires a certain reverence for them. You’d be surprised how respectfully kids handle the toys.”
“I’m an adult and I’m scared to go near them. You know how much of a klutz I am? I’m like a walking tornado.”
“Don’t worry. He has a store policy: You break it, you fix it!”
They continued walking, passing a rustic Italian bistro, and a bubbly pastry shop, both of which were mercifully closed. Otherwise, Abigail wasn’t sure how she’d contain herself. “I made the terrible decision of skipping breakfast,” Abigail explained after her growling stomach made Sally stop and gawk.
“I’ll be correcting that soon enough. My place is down by the water. A bagel should fill you right up.”
Their pace quickened
as Abigail daydreamed of breakfast. That was about the only thing on her mind until what she saw next stopped her in her tracks.
“Is… is that a pirate ship?”
They both looked ahead at a magnificent ship, its sails on full display. Abigail had never seen such a giant ship up close before. “It’s freaking huge!” she added as she craned her neck just to see the tips of the masts.
“Oh yeah,” Sally said, a hint of pride in her voice. “That’s the town’s famous whaling ship: The Lafayette. And I get a view of it right out my store window.”
“How do you get any work done? I’d just gaze at it all day.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s even worse when Dag’s on board, pulling the ropes and swabbing the deck…” Sally let out that dreamy sigh again.
“You are something else,” Abigail remarked with a laugh.
“Let’s head inside before I make a bigger fool out of myself.” Sally then dug into her purse for her store keys.
Abigail turned, having not noticed the Book Cafe until now. The cozy stone building had a logo of a coffee cup set on top of a book. Not quite the treatment Abigail expected for rare books, but she figured she’d understand once she walked inside.
Chapter 12
Once Sally flipped on the lights in the Book Cafe, Abigail stared in awe at her surroundings. The embossed books sparkled in the warm light, and the smell of coffee and vintage paper made Abigail long for a past she had never experienced. She was drawn to a shelf of particularly thick books, and noticed each one seemed to have at least several bookmarks in them, one book even having what looked to be a dozen sticking out.
That was when Sally appeared by Abigail’s side, holding up a pack of five bookmarks. “How about Pink Koalas?” She revealed another pack. “I have Yellow Sloths too, if that’s more your style.”
While the bookmarks were beyond adorable, Abigail wasn’t sure the meaning of them. “What’s this for?”
“I give each regular customer their own unique set of bookmarks to keep their place. That’s sorta the catch of my shop: You can’t take the books home, but you can read them while you’re partaking in my coffee. The bookmarks are free, as are the books to read. My coffee, well, it’s more than worth the price, according to my regulars.”
