Clock and Dagger

by Julianne Holmes

  “I didn’t thank you for coming to my rescue,” I said.

  “You didn’t need any rescuing,” he said. “I felt bad about the way we’d left things.”

  “I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I’m sure Jeff wishes it could have been him. He saw me leaving, since he was at your place. Anyway, I told him where I was going. He called me a few minutes later and was on his way out after you’d left him messages. Wanted to give me a heads-up. Is he coming to pick you up?”

  “Jeff? No, he’s not. Ro came by a little earlier to take my statement, and I told her I’d come by tomorrow to sign it. I’d imagine Jeff’s pretty busy.”

  “Hopefully he’ll be able to wrap things up so he can have New Year’s Eve off.”

  “Why, are you doing something with him?” I asked.

  “Me? No. I assumed you both would have plans.”

  “With each other?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “You and he have dinner with Caroline every week. Then, the other night, after Mark died, he stayed over. It’s cool—I hope you’re both happy.” He mumbled this last part.

  I was too tired to deal with this in a grown-up fashion. Instead, I resorted to Grade School Ruth, frustrated when the obvious remained unnoticed. I whined. “Dude, you’ve got to catch up on the gossip train in this town. You’re way behind. Did you know that Jeff had dinner with Caroline and G.T. once a week? They’ve included me in the ritual. As for the other night, he did spend the night at the Cog & Sprocket. At my invitation. I spent it out at the cottage, with Caroline.”

  “But I thought . . .”

  “No, you didn’t think,” I said, stamping my foot a bit. I needed to get back on the rails, fast. “You assumed. Two different things. Yeesh. From now on, Ben, if you have a question, ask me. Don’t mope around, all right? We’re both too old for that. What is it with people in this town?”

  I turned and tromped off down the hall. I walked out to the front of the hospital to see if someone had the phone number of a cab, but I needn’t have bothered. Pat Reed was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, sound asleep.

  chapter 37

  I’d called Kristen Gauger first thing Friday morning and told her about the cryptic conversation Rina and I had in the barn. I’d only had a couple of hours of sleep, but I was wired.

  “So, she intimated that Kim Gray and Beckett had hatched a plan, but didn’t mention specifics?”

  “Right. Maybe you can talk to her? Or to Beckett?”

  “Let me call Jeff Paisley and see what the situation is.”

  I puttered around my apartment while I was waiting for Kristen to call back. That translated to me cleaning the sink twice and thinking about taking out the garbage. Not much was getting done these days.

  “Working on it,” she said when she finally called. “From what little I could find out, looks like Beckett Green is more of a victim in all of this than a guilty party.”

  “He isn’t going to jail?”

  “Not only is he not going to jail, he is shaping up to be the star witness for the prosecution.”

  “Good to know. What about the Town Hall?”

  “I’ve passed everything on to Nancy Reed. You work on your presentation, do the changes we talked about, get the proposal ready and make copies.”

  • • •

  Kristen met me at the Cog & Sprocket in the morning. We walked over to the old Town Hall together.

  “I thought the meeting was going to be at the school gym?” I asked, smoothing my coat over my thick oatmeal-colored sweater and plum fitted skirt and my run-free tights. That was as professional as I got this early in the morning. The meeting was scheduled for ten o’clock. I was going to get there early, but I was a jumble of nerves.

  “They moved it at the last minute. The school has been closed for the holidays, and they decided not to turn the heat on for one meeting.”

  “I wonder if they were going to tell me.”

  Kristen laughed. “Probably not.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I need someone on my side today. Did you get to talk to Beckett?”

  “No. By the time I got into town he’d gone home. Or somewhere. I couldn’t track him down. But I did have another idea that I hope worked out.”

  “Care to share it with me?”

  “No. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

  • • •

  The town meeting was packed. I’d like to think it would have been anyway, but today there was extra interest. One of the selectmen, Jimmy Murphy, had saved us seats up front.

  “You’re back?” I said, sliding over and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for all the world, darlin’,” he said.

  The meeting was turned over to Kim Gray, who ran through the three options for the Town Hall. The inflection of her voice betrayed her preference, which was that the operations of the Town Hall be reverted to me completely, unless I turned it over to the town of Orchard to use as they saw fit. The implied “they” being Kim Gray. The other option was that I lease the Town Hall back to Orchard for a dollar a year plus an increased operations budget, but that I be allowed to renovate the clock tower.

  “Of course, Ms. Clagan is several key pieces of paperwork short of the required documentation needed in order to get this option fully vetted,” Kim said.

  “No, she’s not.” Nancy Reed emerged from the crowd and stepped up to the front of the room. She had on a tweed skirt and black jacket. The black jersey shirt she wore had a slight cowl, and Nancy wore a double strand of pearls that I recognized as my grandmother’s.

  My grandmother had made few bequests in her will, but one of them was her pearl jewelry. Nancy had apologized for that several times and tried to give them back, but I insisted she keep them. Far be it from me to question my grandmother’s last wishes. Seeing the pearls today, I was glad Nancy had them to give her courage.

  “What’s up, Nancy?” someone called out.

  “Mrs. Reed, the conversation has been closed.”

  “I have new information that I’d like to put before the meeting,” Nancy said. “Trust me, you’re going to want to hear it. Beckett Green and I had coffee this morning.”

  “Does the Sleeping Latte deliver to the jail?” someone shouted. Most people laughed.

  “Beckett isn’t in jail. He is heartsick about what has happened and wants to make amends to all of us,” she said, and the room rumbled with whispers. “Now, now, we can debate his sincerity later.

  “He let me know about plans he had to take over the Town Hall, tear it down, and move in several chain stores. As many of you know, Beckett’s business partner is under arrest for the murder of Mark Pine and the attempted murder of Tuck Powers. Other charges are pending against Mr. Struggs. Anyway, there’s a lot of information to go through, but it seems that Beckett had the backing of some of the Board of Selectmen and the town manager, at least according to the one person I was able to contact.” Nancy lowered her reading glasses on her nose and looked out into the crowd, taking a slow sweep of the standing-room-only crowd. The room got quiet and Nancy lowered her voice, sounding more conversational. These were her friends and neighbors, after all.

  “I can’t imagine that’s really true, can you?” she continued. “I mean, come on. Choosing the interests of a stranger over Ruth Clagan? Thom Clagan’s granddaughter? When the Clagan family is one of the oldest in Orchard? Beckett indicated to me that he is dropping his interest in the Town Hall. He is going to focus on getting his shop open next month. And being a better citizen of Orchard. We talked a lot about that.” There was laughter in the crowd.

  “We all know that the Town Hall needs work,” she continued. “There’s a group of us who are willing to serve on the renovation board, making sure the work that Kim Gray has been putting off finally gets done.” Kim Gray moved to take back the podium, but Nancy blocked her. “Don’t you start with me,
Kim. You know the funds have been in place to get a new heating system, finish upgrading the electrics, and to fix the roof. You put them off until the lease dispute was over. Well, I say it’s over. Let’s get the heating system replaced and get the roof fixed. Finishing the electrics will help with the clock tower, but it will also make the building safer and more viable. There are plenty of taxpaying folks in town who could use the work this winter, so let’s get it done.

  “Now, friends, since we’re here to wrap up some business before the New Year, I think we should take one more vote. There are plans afoot to restore the clock tower. Ruth can talk about them if you’d like, but I think most of you have heard about them. So I think we should vote on that today. Let’s get the New Year started with a bang.”

  “Mrs. Reed, we don’t have the funding . . .” Kim Gray said, trying once more to retake the podium. Again, Nancy blocked her.

  “No, we don’t. But there’s a nonprofit that Grover Winter set up a while ago. Some funds have been raised, and we’ve recently gotten two grants that will match funds—”

  “As long as the funds were raised by the end of the year,” Kim Gray said. “Last I heard, you were twenty-five thousand dollars short.”

  “Not anymore.” Nancy turned toward the town administrator, giving her a full-wattage smile. “A donation came in today, for fifty thousand dollars.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Kim Gray said.

  “You don’t believe me? Really?” Nancy looked shocked and turned back to the crowd. I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t burst out laughing. “Did you hear that, folks? She doesn’t believe me. Isn’t that rich?” A few people laughed, but to her credit, Kim Gray barely flinched. “As a matter of fact, I have a copy of the check. From Beckett Green. The original has been deposited in the Clock Tower Fund account.” Nancy handed the copy to Kim, who barely looked at it.

  “Well,” Kim said, “we still have two options. We all know that this old building is going to be a money pit. I propose that we tear it down, or—” The capacity crowd started to erupt.

  I got up and walked to the front of the room. Nancy stepped aside and blocked Kim from my path. I wasn’t sure if she was more worried about her or about me. A few people hushed the others, and after a few seconds the room was quiet.

  “No one was more surprised than I was when I inherited this old building,” I said. “You’ve all seen the photos of what it was like back in the day, when the clock tower was in operation and the gardens were kept up. Nadia Wint has put the only film we know of showing what it was like when the clock tower worked on our website. It’s grainy, it’s old, there’s no sound. But it’s exciting. Really thrilling. The clock tower was a destination for a lot of people.”

  “I remember it from when I was a little girl,” someone said from the crowd. “We’d come every week to see the dancing figures. It was magic.”

  “I always wish I could have seen it in person. But I felt like I had, from the stories my grandfather Thom would tell me,” I said. The crowd grew silent at the mention of his name.

  “I think that the clock tower will bring a lot of tourists to town,” I continued. “But more than that, look around you. We’re all gathered here, at this wonderful old Town Hall, for this meeting. Most everyone has been here at least once this year, whether it was for a meeting, a play, a craft fair, or a speaker from the historical society.” Heads nodded.

  “We’ve had the building assessed,” I continued, looking around. “It is old, but it is solid. The new heating system and roof are the last two major repairs that need to be made. Plumbing is up to date. The electrics just need to be wired.The wheelchair lift is in place, and the ramps are all up to code. The stage area even has a new light and sound system. Any other work is cosmetic. Paint jobs, some woodwork repair. This building is the heart of Orchard. I don’t want to operate it, but I will, if I need to. I’d rather the town keep using it, and operating it, for the greater good of everyone. Orchard is at a turning point. Let’s continue along the path you all set out on years ago. We don’t want to change Orchard, we want to get her moving again. Now’s the time. You all know that the clock tower is a personal dream that my grandfather passed down to me. Now it’s become a mission, and a few more folks are as excited as I am. Next December, I want to ring in the New Year from this clock tower. What do you say?”

  • • •

  Mac Clark poured me another glass of wine. He and Ada had come by to check in about the meeting. We’d moved a few chairs into a circle in the shop and were enjoying the basket of goodies the Clarks had brought over. Wine, sharp cheese, tart apple slices, fresh bread. It wasn’t the fanciest of lunches, but it was perfect for the day. I was so tired after the meeting I could barely tell which end was up, so I added sparkling cider to my glass of wine. Not very tasty, but not likely to put me to sleep either.

  “Tell me that last part again,” he said gleefully.

  “Mac, she’s told us three times already,” Ada said, her hand on her lower back.

  “I know, but I love the part about the votes being overwhelming to support the Town Hall restoration and the clock tower. I wish we’d been there.”

  “I wish the baby coming wasn’t a false alarm,” Ada said, disappointed.

  “I do too, for your sake,” I said, sipping at my wine concoction. If I added a few mulling spices, it really wouldn’t be too bad. “But obviously he, or she, wants to be born in the New Year! Anyway, Nancy is really the one who saved the tower.” I raised my glass in her direction. She lifted her glass in return and took a healthy swig.

  Pat Reed put his strong, plaid arm around his wife and kissed her forehead. “She was great, wasn’t she?”

  “She was indeed,” I said. “Are you going to run for the Board of Selectmen? I saw Jimmy Murphy talking to you after the meeting.”

  “I am considering it,” Nancy said, playing coy.

  We all laughed. Another job for the very busy Nancy Reed, but one for which she was well suited. I looked around this circle of people. My friends. Flo sat on the other side of Nancy Reed, smiling. Moira and Ben leaned against the counter, too busy snacking to join in the chatter. I was actively avoiding looking at Ben, which meant I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He had done his version of dressing up for the meeting, and I had to say, that crisp white shirt and red tie under his standard leather bomber jacket was really doing it for me. He flashed me a smile as he pushed back his unruly reddish blond hair from his forehead.

  “That means she’s made up her mind,” Pat said. He yawned, shook his head, and then looked down at his watch. “I should get going to the hospital to pick up Caroline and Levi.”

  “I’ll come with you,” I said. “My car is out at the cottage.”

  “I’ll help you clean up and give you a ride out to the cottage,” Ben said quickly. “Five people would be a tight fit in Pat’s car,” he added, popping another apple slice into his mouth.

  “That’s fine,” I said, feeling my face turn the same color as my hair.

  • • •

  The party broke up shortly afterward. Ben helped carry the leftovers upstairs. Blue and Bezel didn’t hear us come in, so we caught them spooning. Blue was excited to see the possibilities of leftovers coming in the door and his tail thumped the floor the moment he heard us put the food on the kitchen table. Bezel tried to pretend she hadn’t been sleeping against Blue’s side. The two of them stretched languidly and then trotted over in unison.

  Ben leaned over and said hello to both of our furry masters.

  “Give them some of the cheese—Bezel will be your best friend for a nibble,” I said.

  Ben went to get it, and I put the glasses in the dishwasher.

  “Ruth, I wanted you to know, those flowers were for you,” Ben said as he tore up a few little pieces of cheese for Bezel, who hopped onto a kitchen chair, expectantly licking her chops. Blue chomped the piece Ben held out for him, swallowing it in one gulp.

  “What flowers?”
I asked with my back to him, even though I knew.

  “The flowers I brought by the day after Mark died. But then Jeff was with you—”

  “He wasn’t with me,” I said, trying not to break the glasses as my grip tightened.

  “I know that, now,” he said softly. “I don’t normally listen to the rumormongers, but I saw you both that morning . . . I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. But I’m not the only one who got the wrong impression, you know.”

  “I know that. I didn’t realize I was such a source of gossip for this town.”

  “Ruth Clagan, you have been the source of gossip in this town since you arrived.” I could hear him stepping closer behind me. “You’re an enigma.”

  “Only if you don’t ask me what you want to know,” I said. I turned and looked at Ben, and didn’t try to look away this time. He was one handsome man. Trouble in blue jeans and boots. I reached over and rubbed my knuckles over the buttons of his shirt. “All you have to do is ask,” I said, looking up at him.

  “Ask you what?” Moira asked, coming up the stairs.

  “Ask me if I was seeing Jeff Paisley,” I said, clearing my throat and taking a small step back from Ben. “Which I, for the record, am not. At least not romantically. We’re friends, good friends. That’s all.”

  Moira had the good grace to look abashed. “It’s been a tough few days,” she said.

  Blue nuzzled against Ben’s leg, looking for more treats.

  “It has,” I agreed. “A really tough few days. At least Jeff is getting some of the credit for breaking the case and exposing this criminal element.”

  “Thanks to you,” she said, allowing Bezel to gingerly sniff her arm for signs of snacks. “Any word on how Tuck is doing?”

  “I called Nadia this morning,” Ben said. “She said he’s still in rough shape, but he’s awake.”

  “I wonder if he’ll be in any legal trouble?” Moira asked.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I think that it is going to take Jeff some time to untangle all of this. Maybe Tuck can help.”