Free Just Killing Time by Julianne Holmes Page B

asked.
    â€œYes, of course. I’ll be there. What time?”
    â€œWould eleven thirty be too early? We could have a meal and then I could come back to the shop to talk you through a few things. How does that sound?”
    It sounded like it would be much easier for her to come into town, but I wasn’t about to turn down a trip to the cottage.
    â€œEleven thirty it is, then,” I said. I hung up and grabbedmy cell phone. Just a few days before, I couldn’t have even imagined willingly having lunch with my grandfather’s new wife, but there I was, entering the appointment into my calendar for eleven o’clock sharp. I added three reminder alarms. That way I might be on time.
    I turned back to the chief, who was over by one of the tables of clocks. I walked over and looked at them with him.
    â€œChief, I understand there was a robbery a while back?”
    â€œThree weeks ago. Yes,” he said, reaching out to shift a clock so that it lined up neatly with its neighbor.
    â€œWhat was taken?” I pressed.
    â€œFive clocks. I’ll e-mail you the descriptions I got at the time.”
    â€œThank you. Do you think the robber came back?”
    â€œThat’s the assumption right now. Everyone knew that the shop was chock-full of clocks.”
    â€œAnd so they came by to get more clocks, but hit G.T. over the head instead? Does that make sense?” I asked.
    â€œYes and no. It’s just a theory.”
    â€œDo you have a line on the stolen clocks?”
    â€œWe aren’t looking for them. Or weren’t until Thom died. Caroline and Thom dropped the complaint,” he said, looking up at me.
    â€œDropped it? Why?” I said, meeting his steady gaze.
    â€œYou’ll have to ask Caroline. All I know is, I’ll be surprised if one has nothing to do with the other.”
    We heard a noise at the door, and I got up and looked down the staircase. There was a carefully placed mirror on the wall that let you see the front door from upstairs, as long as the curtains at the bottom of the stairs were open. Pat Reed was coming in the front door.
    â€œBe right down, Pat!” I called. I turned back to the chief. “Is there anything else I should know?” I asked him.
    â€œNot at the moment,” he answered, taking one last glance around the room, setting his jaw, and offering me a stiff nod. “But I’ll keep you apprised.”

c h ap t e r 1 3

    I walked down the stairs, with the chief following close behind. Pat’s face fell when he saw him.
    â€œI just hung up from a call with Caroline,” I said, pretending not to notice the staring contest between Chief Paisley and Pat. Neither man acknowledged the other, nor did they seem inclined to.
    â€œWhat’s all of this?” I asked, pointing to a mop and bucket and a roll of paper towels.
    â€œThought I would clean up a bit,” Pat said.
    I looked around and saw the jumbled boxes, the fine film of dust, and smudges of what I assumed was fingerprint powder. I hadn’t noticed all of that last night in the lower light. I noticed a new box of paperwork on the counter.
    â€œWhat’s that?” I asked.
    â€œAsk him,” Pat said.
    â€œI brought this over earlier this morning.” Chief Paisley picked up one of the sheets. “This is all of the paperwork collected the morning of the incident. We’ve made copies of it all, and I wanted to give it to you since you’re here now. And it’s your shop now, from what I understand.”
    â€œYou don’t need this?” I said. “I thought you were still investigating.”
    â€œThom’s death continues to be an open investigation. As does the theft of the clocks last month. By law, we could keep everything and lock down this building. But a year in Orchard has taught me a few things, and one of them is shutting down a business, even for a few days, doesn’t serve the community.”
    â€œWonder