Clock and Dagger (22 page)

T
he trapdoor hadn't been used for years, and it protested being recommissioned. I pushed it up, fighting the rug that kept me trapped below. I tried to keep quiet, but moving the rug upended a small table. I closed the trapdoor again and counted to three to see if Wallace had heard me. No footsteps. I reopened the door, pushing harder. I had to get out. Hauling myself up was another reminder that my twelve-year-old self was well behind me. Yeesh, I really needed to go back to the gym. New Year's resolution. New Year's. A couple of days from now. For a second, I wondered if I'd see the New Year, but I shook my head and got rid of the thought. Of course I would. First I needed to get out of here. Easier said than done. After a fashion, I finally found enough footholds and hauled myself up and out of the hatch.

I stayed on my hands and knees, below window level,
listening. I didn't hear anything so I crawled off the porch into the living room, silently thanking Caroline for leaving the door open. The lights were still on in the living room. I looked around for any signs of Wallace. What was he doing now? From my vantage point it seemed he wasn't here. I rose up a little on my knees, taking a sweep of the room. No one was here. I'd made a mistake earlier, thinking that nothing was amiss. On closer inspection, it looked like every item in it had been moved. The books were all askew, in different places, some resting sideways. The room was searched, but not destroyed. From a quick glance, all the clocks were in their rightful places.

I crawled toward the hallway leading to the kitchen. There was a half bath on the left. The door was closed, and I opened it to peek in. Empty. I slowed down and peered around the corner toward the front door. Dark, empty. A few more steps and I was in the kitchen. Empty. I stayed crouched down, which was a bit of an effort. My legs were sore, but rest wasn't on the agenda. Not yet. I opened a few drawers and peeked in. I couldn't find a knife or pair of scissors anywhere. Maybe there was something in the upper cabinets, but I didn't want to risk standing up. I didn't have time to look for a weapon right now. I needed to get help.

I looked around for the phone, but it wasn't on its base. Caroline wasn't the type of person to not return the phone where it should be. I slid into the dining room, staying close to the wall. I went up the stairs and made my way to Caroline's room. The phone was gone. Drawers were open, books were askew. A picture of Caroline and G.T. was lying on the floor, the glass on the frame crushed.

I hurried to the guest room, but wasn't surprised to see
that that phone was gone as well. Wallace was being very careful. The room had been prepared for Levi's arrival, but a search had taken place. Books askew, drawers open.

I looked out the window, toward the barn. What should I do? Wallace hadn't killed me when he had the chance. But he'd thrown me down the cellar stairs and must have plans to come back. Seeing Mark lying at Ben's Barbershop flashed through my mind. I felt sick. Caroline was vulnerable. I couldn't leave her, but I needed to if I was going to get help.

The barn door was open. I could see Wallace pacing around the workshop. He had a full view of the kitchen from there—I couldn't risk him seeing me trying to find a knife. Wallace looked like he was shouting. I thought about the guest apartment. I'd given Caroline a hard time about the landline she insisted on running out there, but I wouldn't do that again. There was a separate entrance to the apartment, and a hidden key. Should I go there, or try to get away?

A car pulled up into the driveway. It barely stopped before the driver had opened the door and turned off the lights. I didn't recognize the car. I tried to cry out, but before I did the figure went into the barn. Was that Levi? Probably. Who else could it be? Jeff Paisley would have shown up with lights blazing. Oh, Levi.

I swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat. Levi was in trouble. I had to go out to the guest house and hope the phone was there. If it wasn't, I needed to figure out how to help Levi, before it was too late.

Time was running out.

J
ust as I was about to slip out the front door, I remembered the motion-sensor lights. After G.T. died, Caroline was nervous about staying at the cottage by herself. Now that made more sense to me. I couldn't imagine what it had been like for her all these years, looking over her shoulder, living a double life. Trying to keep her son in the dark. For the umpteenth time, I wished G.T. and I had had a chance to talk. What did he think about Caroline's past? I'd never be able to ask him, but I could do what he'd want me to and protect Caroline.

I'd had Pat Reed come out and install the motion-sensor lights. The lights in the back had already showed Wallace where I was. I turned the light off. The last thing I needed was a spotlight while I was trying to be stealthy. I should have pushed harder to have an alarm system put in the house. Budgets had been tight, and that was a next-summer project.
After tonight, I'd move it up. But first, we needed to get through tonight.

I went out the front door and crossed over toward the barn. The building was lit up like a Christmas tree. To avoid the light I scurried through the front yard, looping back toward the back of the barn. I walked by my car. The alarm light blinked inside. Hitting the alarm button was a habit from living in the city. As was not putting a Hide-a-Key on the car itself. Pat Reed always teased me about the habit, but given all that had been going on, the habit was a good one. Not very helpful at this particular moment. I didn't want to touch the car and scare Wallace Struggs away just so he could come back again and inflict revenge. We needed him behind bars again for Caroline to be safe.

The back of the barn was windowless, with one door for access. The windows were on the lake side of the building so the occupants of the guest apartment could have a nice view. Tonight the water was flat and dark, no moon reflecting on it. Ice hadn't formed yet, but would soon.

There was a key hidden in a false rock that had been part of the landscaping. Caroline had told me about it when I moved back to Orchard. The crushed-gravel walks that wound around the property had breaks that featured native plants, small bushes, mulch, and rocks that made it look like it had been there forever. I'd tried to avoid the gravel paths because of the noise, but after I tripped for the third time, I decided to risk it. I held my breath. I was near the back of the barn. Where was the stone? I got down on my hands and knees, riffling through the mulch to the right of the door. No fake stones over there. I moved to the left of the door and found a clump of three stones. My hands were numb, so it was hard to tell which stone was the hiding place for the key. The second rock was the right
one. My fingers had difficulty grabbing the sliding door, but I finally did it. When did it get so cold?

I stood up shakily, leaning on the side of the barn to hold me up. I pulled the storm door open and blocked it open with my body. I felt my way to the door handle and found the lock. I fumbled with the lock a couple of times, desperately afraid I'd drop the key. I finally got it in and turned the door handle.

I pushed the door open. I took a deep breath, grateful for the smooth operation of the hinges. I hoped that no one felt the frigid air flowing by me. I walked in. I closed both doors behind me, keeping my hand on both to ensure silence. Thankfully there was light from the barn that illuminated the lake side of the barn. I took a step into the room and again let my eyes adjust for a moment.

If the house had been searched, the apartment had been destroyed. Furniture had been overturned. Lamps were on the floor, the kitchen table was askew. All of the chairs were tipped over. The apartment had two large closets. One was cedar lined, and used for off-season clothing. The other was lined with shelves, and used for family storage. Their doors were wide open, and it looked like every box had been taken out and opened. Heaps of clothing and detritus were piled all around the room. I hurried across the room to the landline. Damn, the base was empty. I should have been prepared for that, but I was still crushed. I ran to the kitchen, sliding open the cutlery drawer. The knives were gone. I looked over at the knife block. Empty.

I brushed back tears of frustration. I hadn't found Levi but I had to go for help. I couldn't stay here any longer worrying about what Wallace's next move would be. This area was busy in the summer months, but there were only a few hardy souls who stayed during the winter, despite the beauty
of the landscape. Most of the houses weren't winterized. I racked my brain. Was Jimmy Murphy here or did he go down to DC to spend the holidays with his son? Why couldn't I remember? He was the closest neighbor, but if he wasn't home, then I'd have to double back to get out to the main road. Unless I could break into his house. People were notorious for leaving keys around. Better to—

What was that noise?

I looked around the room. No one had come in. I heard it again. A breathy grunt. I looked down at one of the piles of clothes on the floor. It moved, and groaned again. I walked over carefully and realized that the heap was actually a person. Wallace. He was out cold. I put two fingers against his neck. He had a pulse, but his eyes didn't open at my touch. I ran my hand along the back of his head and felt something warm and sticky. Blood.

“Wallace?” I whispered as softly as I could, right into his ear. He didn't flinch. When did this happen? Did Levi do it? I almost called out, but stopped myself. I hadn't really seen who got out of the car. I scanned his body quickly, patting his pockets. His gun was gone.

I stood and headed for the door. My boots weren't perfect for running, but running they'd do, because I needed to go and get help. And I didn't even know whom I needed to be saved from anymore.

As I opened the back door, the door from the main space flew open, flooding the room with light. I looked up and saw Rina Sanske at the same time she saw me.

“Could this day get any worse?” she said, flipping her perfect ponytail. She moved her hand toward me. The shadows played games, but the shape of the gun was clear.

“W
hat the hell are you doing here?” Rina asked me.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, almost tripping over myself as I backed away from her.

“Beckett doesn't even know how to do his own laundry,” she said. “Yet again, I'm cleaning up his mess. I guess you know the story behind this family reunion.”

“I do,” I said. Unlike Wallace, Rina wasn't out of her mind. She was steady, focused, and reasonable. Which made her even more deadly. Better to keep her talking.

“How long have you known about Caroline's troubled past? Longer than me, I'll bet. Amateurs. I can't believe I got this idiot out of jail so he could live out his own revenge fantasy.”

“You got him out of jail? How?”

“You're a curious one, aren't you? Let's just say I was
able to help Wallace make a deal with the authorities that got him an early release. I fed him some information that he could use as leverage.”

“So he came back here?”

“We needed him back here to help us run part of the operation. Or, I thought we did. I should have known that Orchard was too good to be true.”

“What do you mean?”

Rina paused, and shrugged her shoulders. “May as well tell you. You won't get a chance to tell anyone. My business partners decided to use Orchard as one of the nexus points for our operation,” she said, sounding bored. “Close enough to Boston and New York, but far enough away to be out of the limelight. Wallace was the one who suggested it. Idiot. I'm surrounded by idiot men. Was your ex-husband an idiot too? I've heard all about your little sob story. Gossip is seriously the only thing that has kept me sane in this sleepy town.”

“What did you do to Wallace?” I asked.

“I didn't do anything,” she said. “He did it to himself. If he'd done what he was supposed to, and gotten the documents, we'd both be on our way up north now.”

“Documents?”

“Don't play dumb with me, Ruth. You're smarter than most of the people in this godforsaken town. Here, make yourself useful. Tie the idiot up.” Rina reached over and grabbed the roll of duct tape that was sitting on a box, tossing it toward me. I caught it and walked over toward Wallace. With the lights on, I could see more of his injuries. His lip was bleeding and his right eye was swollen shut. The man who had tossed me down the stairs was gone.

“You're pretty tough,” I said, looking over my shoulder at Rina. “He's almost twice your size.”

“I am used to being underestimated. It used to piss me off, but now I use it to my advantage. Play the helpless female and get a bunch of men to do my bidding. And take all the risks. Get to it—tie him up.” She motioned to him with the gun.

I tore off a long piece of tape and bound Wallace's feet together. “That's good enough. Now get up and come with me. I'll deal with him later.”

I walked over to Rina, who stepped back, keeping the gun trained on me.

“What about Beckett?” I said, walking down the hall toward the workshop. “Where does he fit in?”

“He's the biggest idiot of them all. Talk about spoiling a good thing. We were all set up to be a perfect distribution center in a quiet, unassuming little bookshop, then he decides to get smart and start shaking things up and working with Kim Gray, making grand plans and drawing attention to himself and to me. Yeesh.”

“So he's in business with you?”

“No, he's a front. I've been using him for years—whatever business he happens to be running at the time. He seems to think that he just pulls money out of thin air—that his businesses do well because of his skill. Can you imagine? Do you think he came up with the idea to open up this bookstore on his own? Of course he didn't. I suggested it. Even drove him past the old bank a few times. He took credit for the idea, of course. I could play him like a fiddle. He thinks a great deal of himself and has never once questioned why someone like me would be with a toad like him. Now, keep moving.”

She almost made me feel bad for Beckett. Almost. “Where do you want me to go?”

“I need you to find the documents Caroline kept on the clocks.”

“Documents? Clocks?”

“Don't play dumb, Ruth,” she said, growing impatient. “It doesn't suit you, and it aggravates me. One thing I've always liked about you is your intellect. Now, where are the documents? Caroline told Wallace about them, thinking it would buy her time. Which it did. But time is at a premium, and the payment is due. Where are they?”

“Caroline took them to my apartment earlier today. We can go get them.”

“And run into Jeff Paisley or that puppy dog, Ben Clover?”

“I wouldn't call Ben a puppy dog,” I said.

“Ugh,” she said, disgusted. “Please, just stop talking. We don't really need them, I suppose. It's just such a shame. All of that record keeping for years going to waste. Repair methods and points of contact that could be studied and used as we build our enterprise . . .” She trailed off as we entered the workshop. All the lights were on. Crates were open, but from what I could see, no clocks were damaged in the search. I suspected Wallace had something to do with that. I doubted Rina held horologist's aspirations. “Plans are shifting, but what else is new? First that moron Mark refuses to continue to help me, even though we'd set him up to do exactly that. I'd like to know what kind of spell you're casting over at that shop of yours. Perfectly good criminals going straight for minimum wage. I tried to make him see reason, but in the end I took care of that employee-liability problem with a
shiny watch that he just couldn't help but obsess over and one of Beckett's favorite ties. I couldn't exactly have him working right across the street from our enterprise.”

“Took care of—you killed Mark? But I thought you were having dinner in Marytown?” I felt sick, remembering Mark's empty eyes staring up at me.

“Sit down on that stool over there and shut up.” Rina kept the gun trained on me and walked over to one of the crates that was open. She rummaged around a bit and then pulled out a clock. She turned it over and looked at the base, which was marked with a small black
x
in the center. “Gotcha.” She put the clock on the workbench, next to a couple of others.

“So I guess you and Beckett weren't having dinner?”

“What did I tell you?”

“Come on, Rina. I've got questions; you've got answers. I want to know how you pulled this off.”

“Surprised you, huh? Well, I guess since I'm going to kill you anyway. Beckett wanted to hang around, go undercover, and check out the open house. We both agreed to use the Marytown dinner in case anyone asked.”

“Beckett didn't catch on?”

“No. I even had him convinced he was the prime suspect, and I was doing him a favor. And now he actually is the prime suspect. I made sure of that this afternoon.”

“When you attacked Tuck?” To my horror, rather than flinching she smiled a bit.

“Losing him was such a shame,” she said, systematically sorting through the rest of the crate. “I'm going to have to figure out what to tell Fred.”

“Fred? Tuck's uncle? Is he one of your partners?” I
realized that she thought that she'd succeeded in killing Tuck. At least I had that over her.

“Fred and I have been friends for a long time.” Rina came up with another clock with an
x
on the bottom. It went to the workbench, and she dove into the crate one more time, never taking her eyes off me. “Such a shame about Tuck. He was an integral part of the operation, but far too young to understand the nuances. He was too easily influenced. Imagine wanting to give up the family business in order to stay in Orchard and make coffee? What's wrong with people?

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Jeff won't be coming to your rescue,” she said, lifting another clock out of the box and placing it on the workbench. “I texted him back with your phone and told him you'd made a mistake, the picture was inverted. That you and Caroline and Zane were all having a good laugh about it. Handy thing, texting. No voices to recognize.” Oh, Jeff, please don't believe her, I thought. Please be on your way. “Calling 911 was riskier, but I did that too. I let them know that Caroline was safe and sound. I apologized for the false alarm. Apparently there's a lot happening in the Berkshires tonight. The dispatcher was glad she could redeploy the trooper to another location. Of course they have to send someone eventually, but I'm planning on being long gone by then.”

“What are you doing with the clocks?”

Rina regarded me with a mixture of contempt and pity. “It's not the clocks I want, it's the cases. Mark packed them for us. Part of the merchandise we were going to try and move.”

“What's in them? Stolen jewels?”

“Nothing so exotic. Just plain old drugs.” She rolled her eyes. “Don't look so shocked, Ruth.”

“I hate it when people use clocks for nefarious purposes,” I said.

“Did you just say ‘nefarious'? You are hopeless, you know that? Time to join the real world, Ruth. Oh, wait. You'll be leaving it soon enough. You may as well hold on to your ideals.”

I looked around the workshop. I'd spent a lot of time out here these past few weeks. Maybe if I could distract Rina for a moment . . . maybe I'd have a chance.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, tensing and training the gun on me again.

“Pat was going to leave one of my models out here,” I lied. “We need it for the Town Hall meeting tomorrow.”

“It is a shame you'll miss it. If that fool Kim Gray can pull it off with her partner in crime behind bars . . .”

“Pull what off?”

“Taking over the Town Hall. Destroying your business. Now that I have wasted months of work on this town I am happy that Beckett's silly little side plan will drag Orchard down too. As much as I would have preferred him to keep a low profile, at least there is a sort of satisfaction in knowing that your precious, quirky downtown will be replaced by a bunch of shiny chain stores.”

“So, what's next? You just kill me and drive away?” I asked.

“Well, since I am actually back in Boston having dinner right now, I couldn't kill you, could I? That would have to be someone else,” she said, smirking. “A few friends willing to provide an alibi.”

“Business partners?” I said, rolling my eyes. I needed to keep her talking. I looked around, trying to see what I could use as a weapon. There wasn't much, not out. There were a couple of grandfather clocks in the middle of the space. Maybe if I could navigate Rina near one and knock it onto her? If nothing else it could block me from bullets.

“Business partners, yes. Handy people to know, though this particular partner hooked me up with Wallace. Not the best connection he's made for me. I suppose, being fair, how would he have known that Wallace wanted to reconnect with his family so desperately?”

“How did Wallace know that Caroline was in Orchard?”

Rina shook her head. “I hate coincidence, don't you? Apparently there was a remembrance service or something for your grandfather at some clock event or another. Right after he died?”

“At the annual meeting of the Massachusetts Horological Society. Caroline and I didn't go.”

“There was some sort of slide show, with a picture of Caroline and your grandfather. Wallace was there. He's the one who brought Orchard up as a possible business site. Suggested using clocks. He had his own ‘master plan.' The fool.” She snorted and began to count the clocks she'd lined up on the bench.

We both heard the noise at the same time. A slamming car door. Her spine stiffened and I sensed my moment was coming. When she turned toward the door, I darted to the right. She regrouped and shot at me, but her shot was wild. I dove at her midsection, and we both tumbled. I heard the gun clatter away. Rina was strong, stronger than I was. But I had fear on my side, and we kept wrestling. Finally I heard
someone calling my name, and I stopped fighting and looked up. Ben Clover was standing there, holding Rina's gun, looking like he wasn't quite sure how he got there.

I rolled off her toward Ben.

“You okay?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of Rina, who appeared to have lost consciousness at some point during our struggle. Thankfully. It seemed like she would never stop talking.

“Been better,” I said. “Is Jeff here?”

“He's on his way.”

I rolled over to my knees and sat back on my heels. “I don't think I've ever been so happy to see anyone,” I said to Ben. He offered me his solid, warm hand, and pulled me up to standing. “What are you doing here?”

“You were right, earlier. I've been such a jerk. I came out to see if that dinner invitation still stood. Saw this place all lit up. The instant I shut my door I looked up and I saw Rina standing there holding a gun. And then I saw you—” He paused and I stared right into those gorgeous eyes of his. “Hey, are you all right?”