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Authors: Julianne Holmes

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BOOK: Just Killing Time
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“What is it?”

“A pin, silver, with diamonds that look like dew. It's lovely. I'll bet your mother looked beautiful wearing it. Am I right?”

“Give it to me!”

“So what did you do, Aggie? Hide bits and pieces of jewelry in the clocks? Didn't your father notice that they were missing?” I reassembled the pieces of this story like the machinery of a broken clock, one at a time. I was waiting for the final cog that would help it all make sense.

“He did, but I just blamed Delia. The black sheep sister. Dad never suspected me, poor miserable Aggie. The quiet daughter. No one ever suspects the quiet daughter. You know what my father used to call me? Mouse.” The lack of warmth in Aggie's smile was more than chilling. I understood now that Aggie had moved into another reality. I needed to meet her there if I was going to get out of this.

“Your father was probably going to give you the jewelry
someday. Why did you hide it?” I tried to keep my voice even and gentle. Maybe if I kept her talking . . .

“He wasn't going to give it to me. He was going to put it in a trust for Jonah's future wife and children. In a trust. Dad loved his trusts. He was all about making us wait for what was rightfully ours.”

“You didn't wait,” Jonah said, his breathing ragged. “You borrowed thousands and thousands of dollars from Mother and Dad over the years, with no intention of paying them back. Ever. You spent your inheritance ten times over. Don't you understand that? It was all Dad could do to hold on to this house at the end.”

“And whose fault was that? All he had to do was to roll over and talk everyone into the rezoning downtown. He could have made a fortune. But no, the integrity of Orchard was more important. Blah, blah, blah. I'm so sick of his games. All Dad had to do was stop with the games. That's all,” Aggie said.

“And when he didn't?” I said.

“She didn't give him a chance. She poisoned him. Just like she's been poisoning me. I thought it was the flu, but yesterday I made a doctor's appointment, and she flipped. She's been poisoning my sports drink for weeks. And I never knew.” Jonah threw the sports drink bottle at her, spreading the red drink all over the room. She didn't even flinch. She just smiled.

“You know what? Thom was going to see if he could get Dad's body exhumed, so they could run some tests. But do you want to hear the funny part, brother dear? He thought it was you, or maybe Delia. It took some doing, but I finally
got him to believe my story. He never even suspected it was me. Of course, I had to be sure. That's why I went back to get the notebook that night.”

“That night? Aggie, did you kill my grandfather?”

“I didn't mean to, I really didn't.” Aggie turned to me. I heard her words, but saw little remorse on her face. “You believe me, don't you? It's just that he wouldn't listen. I had to make him listen. You see that, don't you? He found a couple of pieces of jewelry and gave them to me. But he told me he'd have to tell Delia and Jonah, just to be fair. To be fair. Even though I'd convinced him they'd killed Dad? When I asked him if he really had to, he started to act a little odd, so I was worried that he'd guessed. I always saw him writing stuff down. All of a sudden I wondered, what was he writing? I had to find out. I tried to pretend I was a robber, and waited for him outside the shop. But he knew it was me. I guess the pendulum I'd swiped when I left the shop earlier was a bad idea. Anyway, when I started toward him, he told me to stop. Why do people always think they can boss me around? Did he really think the car alarm would help him? I gave him a chance to give it all to me. It was his own fault, really it was. He should have just given me the jewelry and left well enough alone.

“Now give me that pin,” she said.

Aggie aimed her gun at me and shot it. I jumped up and cried out. The shot was louder than I expected. I heard a pane of glass shatter behind me, and turned to look. It was a few inches over my head. I couldn't tell if she was a bad shot, or just trying to warn me.

“I'm going to bring it to you, and then we're going to find the rest of the jewelry in the rest of the clocks. How many
are there all together? Do you know?” I stood up as best I could and walked slowly toward her. My back seized a bit with every step, but I pushed forward.

I handed her the pin, making sure to catch it in the light so it sparkled. As she looked down, I hit the button to my car's key fob. The alarm screeched, and Aggie turned toward the sound. I reached in my pocket, grasped the broken bits of glass and porcelain. Aggie turned back toward me and I threw the glass at her face, aiming for her eyes.

I grabbed her arm with the gun, pushing her backward toward the fireplace. She screamed with frustration as she tripped on the side table and her back hit the brick, hard. But she didn't let go of the gun. She pushed her weight forward and we both fell over, with her landing on top of me. I tried to catch my breath, but she was heavy. She tried to turn the gun toward me, but I pushed back with everything I had left. Another shot rang out, and I heard a moan from Jonah. Aggie's weight crushed my chest; my breath came in shorter and shorter pants. I felt my grip loosening on the gun. I was losing this battle.

My vision was a swirling purple haze with sparkles. I saw Jonah out of the corner of my eye, holding a clock over his head. Aggie cried out as the clock crashed into her forearm and the gun dropped from her grip. She launched herself toward Jonah in a rage, but I grabbed the back of her hair.

“Hold her down,” I said.

“How?” Jonah asked. He had a point—she was flailing around. I held on to her hair with both hands.

“Sit on her,” I said.

He leaned down and grabbed both of her wrists, holding
them down against the floor. I pulled myself up and sat on her legs. Aggie kept screaming, but she'd stopped moving.

“We need to call the police,” I said. “Can you hold her down, Jonah? Jonah?” All of a sudden Aggie's hands got free and she clawed at me. Jonah's limp body was stopping her from sitting up, but not for long.

I heard a huge crash and saw an object fly through the front window. One of the concrete turtles skidded across the room. Another crash and another piece of concrete flew in. The bunny landed nearby. Aggie stopped moving, and finally stopped screaming.

I looked over and saw Chief Paisley's face appear through the window.

“Don't make me shoot! Because you know I will, Aggie,” he shouted.

c
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I
t was a beautiful memorial service. G.T. would have approved. We had it on Saturday, concurrently with the service the National Horological Society was holding. Caroline and I'd decided to go ahead with it, even though it was very short notice and I was still in pretty tough shape. People wanted to pay their respects, and Orchard needed to turn the page and move on.

The Town Hall was full. Some press had tried to come in after catching wind of Aggie's crimes, but the good people of Orchard made sure they weren't welcome. Caroline's son, Levi, wanted to be there, but she'd finally been able to talk him into staying at his conference. There'd be plenty of chances to celebrate Thom Clagan. Caroline made Levi promise to come up with a wonderful memorial garden as a start.

My friends Steve and Rick came out from Boston and sat with me, each holding a hand and helping me navigate
stairs, chairs, and people. Ben sat with Caroline and performed the same function for her.

I slowly made my way to the front of the Town Hall and took in the sight of the townspeople who'd shown up. My voice shook as I started to read.

A Reminiscence

by Anne Brontë

YES, thou art gone! and never more

Thy sunny smile shall gladden me;

But I may pass the old church door,

And pace the floor that covers thee.

May stand upon the cold, damp stone,

And think that, frozen, lies below

The lightest heart that I have known,

The kindest I shall ever know.

Yet, though I cannot see thee more,

'Tis still a comfort to have seen;

And though thy transient life is o'er,

'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been;

To think a soul so near divine,

Within a form so angel fair,

United to a heart like thine,

Has gladdened once our humble sphere.

“As some of you know, that last stanza is etched on my grandmother's tombstone. She always loved the Brontë
sisters. The quote is perfect for them both. How lucky was I that they had gladdened my own humble sphere? Immeasurably. Thank you, G.T. I love you.” I looked around and smiled. I took my seat.

Pat Reed got up and gave his eulogy. A great testament to his friend; he didn't leave a dry eye in the house. And he made it clear that saving this Town Hall was Thom Clagan's final wish, and it was going to happen. There was a huge round of applause for that. I turned and looked at everyone in the hall. I noted that some of the members of the Board of Selectmen were slow to join in, but by the end the only person not clapping was Kim Gray. I smiled sweetly at her and clapped even louder.

There was a reception downstairs in the community room afterward, and I shook every hand that was offered. To say that I was exhausted by the end was an understatement, but the entire day helped me make up my mind.

I brought my Boston friends over to the Cog & Sprocket and showed them around. Ben and Moira came with us and offered their opinions on what could be done to make the upstairs apartment a workable space.

“What a great space. A little cramped, but you will be selling most of these clocks, won't you?” Steve said.

“That's the idea,” I said. I knew he'd love the shop. What wasn't there to love?

“Well, that will help with the flow of the space. What about this wall that splits the front of the shop?” he asked.

“Caroline and I talked about it. G.T. was always adamant about keeping it, so maybe it's structural?”

Steve looked around. “No, I don't think so. It does have outlets on it, but they can be moved.”

“Then I think we should get rid of it.”

Steve grabbed a hammer from the workshop and to my surprise, knocked right through the wallboard. “Excellent choice,” he said, grinning. “Now, what we do upstairs depends on what you want it to be. An apartment or a showroom?”

c
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C
aroline invited a few people over to her house Sunday afternoon. We decided to use the barn for the party. I'd come to think of the space as a satellite of the Cog & Sprocket. Fortunately Caroline agreed. Nancy and Moira came over early to set up the food, which they'd provided.

“Pat tells me your friends are at the shop, tearing out a wall. Does this mean what I hope it means?” Nancy asked, rubbing her hands together.

“You'll have to wait to hear what it means until everyone else gets here,” I said with a wink. “Thank you both for bringing the food.”

“Thank us? Thank us? If it weren't for you, Ryan would be rotting in jail right now. As it is, he is free from any legal trouble. Again, thanks to you,” Nancy said.

“And thanks to Chief Paisley, who was willing to bend
the rules a bit,” I said. “And Caroline, who convinced him that G.T. had given Ryan the clocks as a gift.”

“Jeff drove a hard bargain,” Nancy said.

“How? By making Ryan do some community service, off the books? Honestly, Mum, he did us a favor. Ryan needed to learn a lesson, but not let it ruin his life,” Moira said, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, I'll let you settle that debt,” Nancy said. “Free coffee for life? Or something a little more? If you aren't already giving him more than that.”

Moira blushed a bit and threw a napkin at her mother.

“What's that?” Moira pointed to the model I'd set on the table.

“It's G.T.'s model of the Town Hall, with the clock tower restored.”

“I still can't believe you own the Town Hall now,” Moira said.

“I'm relieved I found the deed. Caroline and I talked it over. Since it was in the shop and was in a clock, we are considering it part of the shop itself. So, officially, I own it, but I am going to deed it back to the town with some conditions that G.T. would have wanted. Kristen is working on the details now. The envelope must have been in a pile of documents that G.T. hadn't gone through yet. Grover knew that G.T. would make the connection about John Harrison. Eventually. And that no one else would.”

“Grover and Harriet Winter were wonderful people. How could they have raised such a monster?” Caroline said.

I shook my head. “I don't know. Aggie had everyone fooled. She had herself convinced that she lived in a world where getting rid of obstacles that stood in her way was her
right. That included her own father, her husband, Jonah. And G.T. It's just so awful.”

“How is Jonah?”

“He's getting better,” Caroline said. “It will take a while, but they think he'll make a full recovery. At least physically. Mentally, it may take him a while longer. He's going to stay with his sister Delia while he gets better.”

“Ruth, what's under the sheet?” Moira asked, pointing to the large wall piece I'd installed that morning on one of the walls in the barn. “Another model?”

“All in good time. Now get something to eat. Nancy, we could feed the entire town with this spread.”

“You don't have to offer me Nancy's lasagna twice,” Ben Clover said from the doorway, where he was leaning. It was a good lean. “I think they serve it at the pearly gates. Aunt Flo, do you know everyone here?”

“Do I know everyone?” Flo said, joining him. “Of course I do. Or at least I'm going to soon enough. Nancy, it's great to see you!”

The two women hugged and walked to the side of the barn, pouring themselves glasses of wine. Caroline joined them and soon the three of them were laughing.

Pat Reed came in from the storage room, where he'd been moving more inventory around.

“Everything's settled in,” he said to me. “Including Bezel.”

“Where is she?”

“I told her she needed to lay low since Caroline is here, so she's settled into the guest room here at the barn. She's fine. There's a nice chair in there, and I gave her some extra food.”

“You are going to spoil her. And me,” I said, putting my
hand on his arm. Pat had been tireless these past few days. I couldn't have even thought about working on the Cog & Sprocket without him, and was grateful that I didn't have to.

“I'm glad you're letting me spoil you, a little bit. You need to take care of yourself.” He looked around the barn, now full of crates and clocks. It didn't feel nearly as cramped as the Cog & Sprocket. “It was a good idea, moving things out here while the shop is getting worked on.”

“You and Ben didn't have to do it today,” I said.

“Sure we did. We're on a deadline. Need to get some of these clocks sold if we're going to stay in business. Am I right?”

“We're going to have to get a lot of the clocks sold. But not today. Grab yourself a glass of wine,” I said.

Pat walked over and gave Flo a hug, then he took the glass his wife offered him.

Ben walked over. “Where's Blue?” I asked.

“Back in the guest room, keeping Bezel company. She pretends to hate Blue, but it's all a façade.”

I laughed, and just then Mac and Ada Clark walked through the door, carrying two brimming Corner Market bags. Beckett Green followed behind, carrying a covered tray.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he said to me. “I know that Caroline is fond of figs, so I brought some over.”

“She's right over there, talking to Flo.” Beckett walked over, balancing his tray so that he could meet Flo.

I walked over to the Clarks and shook their hands.

“Thank you so much for coming out here,” I said.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Mac said, and I could see he meant it. “We really appreciate it.”

“Listen, our families have had some misunderstandings
over the years, but they don't make sense anymore. I've heard such great things about the way you've been running the Corner Market and the way you treat local vendors.”

“We've been trying. I know now that Thom was trying to protect what we were trying to do, and to be. I'm so sorry that the last words we had were cross ones,” Mac said, looking down and adjusting his grip on his bag.

“We can't change the past, but we also can't let it predict the future. How about if we all start again, as of today?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Ada said. “I hope you don't mind, but we brought over some wine, chocolate, and local cheeses.”

“I don't mind at all. Let's pull out another card table. They're over there, by the bathroom. Ben, can you help with that?”

“For wine and chocolate? You bet!” he said. He winked at me and went to work setting up the new table.

“Ruthie, you remind me of your grandmother,” Aunt Flo said, coming up behind me and giving me a side squeeze that was only a little painful. “Just set up another card table. Being a gracious host.”

“Aunt Flo, that's the nicest thing you could ever say to me. I'm so glad you're back.”

“Ben doesn't really need me, but he pretends he does. And after the first few months of traveling, I got bored. I'm back, but only a couple of days a week.”

“And, coincidentally, those two days are booked solid with appointments,” said Ben as he put his arm around his aunt's shoulders and kissed her on top of her head.

“We'll get this business turned around. You just need to learn how to gossip, nephew.”

Chief Paisley came in, and everyone stopped talking. He looked handsome out of uniform. Still formal, with creased
chinos and a tucked-in blue checkered shirt. His jean jacket was the only thing that looked fairly worn, and it tipped him into handsome territory.

“Here's my hero,” I said, only half joking. “Without his quick thinking, I literally would not be here.”

I tried to laugh it off, but I knew it was true. I walked up and gave him a big hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Just doing my job, ma'am,” he said, standing up even straighter, if that was possible.

“Thank you for that,” Caroline said. “Though I still don't know what would have made you go out to the Winters'.”

“Thom had shared his concerns about the Chairman's death with me, but I didn't have enough evidence to get the body exhumed. And to be honest, I wasn't sure that Thom wasn't grasping at straws, trying to explain his friend's death.”

“Grover's death did change Thom,” Caroline said. “We all thought he was making crazy decisions. But now we all know that he was right.”

“We found Thom's notebook at the Winters' house. Aggie had taken that, and a box of clocks Thom was bringing back to the house, on the night he died. I read over the notebook,” the chief said. “I'll get it back to you both as soon as I can. He lays out his concerns, but he really thought that Delia was responsible. I just wish he'd talked it through with me. Parts of his notebook are direct letters to Grover. He really missed his old friend.”

“Okay, but that still doesn't explain why you went looking for Ruth.”

“I knew she wanted to honor Thom, and getting the deed settled was part of that. I was holding off talking to Kristen until she got there, and when she was late, I went by the
Sleeping Latte, fully expecting to see Ruth sitting at the counter or behind it, helping out. But Ben told me she stopped by the Winters' and was on her way. It didn't sit right that she wasn't there.”

“Even though I'm late for everything?” I asked.

“I didn't think you'd be late for our meeting. Plus, I started to wonder if the Winters' heirs would be happy about the deed being found, or if the town taking it over would benefit them in some way. As I said, it just didn't sit right, so I thought I should make sure everything was all right. I drove up and heard her car alarm blasting. I looked through the front window. Well, the rest you know.”

“Do they teach you how to throw lawn ornaments in the police academy?” I asked, poking him in the ribs.

“If I'd taken a shot, I might have hit you or Jonah. It was a calculated risk,” he said, half smiling.

“That paid off. Thank you, Chief.”

“Call me Jeff. And you're welcome, Ruth.”

“Well, Ruth, I think everyone's here now,” Caroline said, looking around.

I walked over and stood next to the Town Hall model and cleared my throat.

“Thank you all for coming this afternoon. I feel like this is a meeting of the Orchard historical district,” I said. Everyone laughed. “I wanted to let you all know that I'm going back to Boston tomorrow morning.” The long faces got to me, and I couldn't hold back my smile. “I need to go by the museum and thank them for finding money to rehire me, but I need to turn them down.

“Pat, Caroline, and I talked it over last night. The shop is going to be closed for a few more weeks. Pat's going to oversee
some renovations in the shop. Upstairs will take a little more work, but he tells me it won't take too long. He did a wonderful job for Caroline at the cottage, and I need the apartment to be modernized if I am going to live there. Plus there are a few other changes we want to make to the shop, opening it up a little more. We'll have a bit more of a showroom, displaying some of the clocks on sale and some of my own work.”

With that, I took the sheet off the piece that Pat had helped me install last night on the wall of the barn. It was a working clock, six feet wide and three feet tall. Oversized cogs and gears were made of different types of metal. I'd soldered some frames onto the cogs. They stood out from the clock about six inches. Each frame contained a small art piece I'd created, and they moved with the clock. A replica of the cottage. A clock tower. An apple. Last night I'd added a large bezel with a gray cat face peering through the lens. Toward the center of the piece there were three words made of sculpted metal. They spelled out
COG & SPROCKET
and lined up every hour. If I had been able to orchestrate the moment better, we all would have seen it, but for now, I just needed to explain it.

“I call it the Cog & Sprocket. I designed it in memory of this place, of Orchard, and in honor of my grandparents. I finished it last year, during one of the most difficult times of my life. Even though I never got to say good-bye to G.T., I felt as if he was with me while I built this. And now I am so pleased that I can hang it where it belongs. Here, in Orchard.”

“To the Cog & Sprocket and to Ruth Clagan.” Ben raised his glass. “Welcome
home.”

BOOK: Just Killing Time
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