Free Just Killing Time by Julianne Holmes

She’d end up staying for an hour. She also gother hair done once a week, washed and set. Mrs. Parker did quite the business.”
    â€œWell, the karma didn’t get passed on to her nephew.”
    â€œBusiness bad? Surprising. Ben seems pretty charming.”
    â€œEvery time I go in, it’s pretty quiet, but you’d have to ask Ben.”
    â€œYou go there?”
    â€œI need to get my hair cut. Ben does a fine job. Figured I should support the new guy, being new myself. This town isn’t easy on new guys.”
    â€œThis town isn’t really easy on anyone.”
    â€œSounds like you speak from experience.”
    We’d arrived back at the Cog & Sprocket. I searched my pocket for the keys and fumbled to find the right one.
    â€œMy grandfather and I had a falling-out. I’m sure you’ve heard.” I looked over at the chief, and he nodded. “And I just knew that Orchard would take his side, so I stayed away. I realize now, that was a mistake. Why don’t you come in and we can have a cup of coffee and chat?”
    I walked in and found a note from Pat on the counter:
Gone to wind the clock tower over in Marytown. Will be back.
    â€œWind the clock tower?” the chief said.
    I turned just as he stepped back from looking over my shoulder. He didn’t even look abashed. I was surprised to realize we were the same height. He’d seemed much bigger. His short brown hair was very closely cropped, and flecked with gray. Liquid brown eyes held my gaze, but I noticed a lack of laugh lines around them. That said, when I smiled, he returned it.
    â€œPart of the business has always been maintaining theclock towers in the area. Pat must be keeping up with the jobs, bless him. Tell you what, why don’t we go upstairs to chat?”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    T he chief preferred milk in his coffee, but there was none to be found. In fact, there wasn’t much in the refrigerator, just beer and condiments. He shrugged when I told him, and took out his phone.
    â€œLow battery,” I heard him mutter.
    â€œWhat kind of phone is it? Maybe my charger would work?” I walked over and picked up my bag from where it still rested on the other side of the bed. I brought it over to the kitchen table and riffled through it till I found my phone charger. I handed it to the chief and pointed him toward the extension cord on the floor.
    â€œWhat else do you carry in there? It looks like a bag Mary Poppins would carry if she was a hipster.”
    â€œHey, watch it.” I looked down at my messenger bag. I found it online on a steampunk site. Steampunk enthusiasts love clock parts almost as much as horologists do. I loved the different shades of gray gears that created the pattern on the red bag. “My life is in this bag.”
    â€œObviously.” The chief pulled out some reading glasses and looked down at his phone. “Ms. Clagan, I thought I’d let you know where the investigation into Thom’s death stands. How much do you know?”
    â€œNot much. Just that he died of a heart attack, but had been attacked first?”
    â€œYes, Thom did suffer a head wound. We didn’t know what caused it, but two days ago Ben Clover and his dog . . .”
    â€œBlue.”
    â€œBlue.” The chief smiled. “They were taking a walk by the river and Blue started barking frenetically. Ben went over to see what was wrong, and Blue had found a pendulum.”
    â€œA pendulum?” I asked.
    â€œYes. Good dog—he wouldn’t let Ben touch it, but we couldn’t find any prints. I’ll spare you the details, but the pendulum was used in the attack against your grandfather.”
    â€œWas it from the shop?”
    â€œI’m hoping you can tell me that.”
    â€œMaybe,” I said, remembering the gutted grandfather clocks. “Do you have a picture of it? Or any details?”
    â€œI can get you the