Chapter 6
Grace
Caleb pauses in front of the store window.
One of Guy’s paintings is center stage. It’s always bittersweet when I see his work on display in the shop that used to be ours.
When Guy and I owned it, we called it Mud & Twine.
Now it’s Pop’s Gifts. They usually only keep one or two paintings and they have snapshots of other works that can be viewed upon request.
“Are these three photos of Guy’s work as well?”
“Yes. They were some of the last things he did.
“The new owners brought in a lot of cheap tourist items and display less of the local artisans since they took over. I shouldn’t complain, they gave me a job and let me sell my pottery.”
I greet the owner as I walk in.
He glances up from counting cash in the register. Startled at first then a little sheepish, he smiles. “Uh hi, Grace. I was going to call you. About next week...” He glances to the left and I see the sign.
Store Closing Until Further Notice
“Wha...why?”
“We just aren’t making the money we thought we would. We’re taking a cruise and will decide what we want to do while we’re gone. Kids want us to spend more time with the grandchildren.”
“I—I understand.”
“Can we ask a favor?” Caleb holds out his hand. “Caleb Rourke. Can you let us know first. We may want to rent the place and maybe look at your stock. The local items are consignment, correct?”
Pops eyes light up. “Yes. If you’re interested in taking over, maybe we could come to a deal on the other items. We can talk when we get back from vacation. You want to leave your number?”
“Absolutely, but you can also reach me through Grace.”
“I see.” Pops glances my way as he takes down Caleb’s number.
Putting his arm around my shoulder, Caleb steers me out of the shop.
“What are you doing? Why?”
“Hear me out. Jaxon says you need to be back in control of that shop. It was popular and good business for the town before Pop’s took over. I’m looking for a permanent place to live and there’s an apartment upstairs. Let’s see what happens. We may be able to work a deal with each other.”
Getting the shop back? My heart starts racing. No. Don’t get your hopes up. “Okay, but I pay my fair share.”
“We’ll run it by Jaxon tonight.”
After our shopping is done, we go home to unload. I’m surprised to see the sheriff’s vehicle. “Oh no. Do you think something else has happened?”
“Jaxon was going to call him when he was done.”
The two men walk over to the truck, each grabbing a bag and following us inside. “Is there something wrong, Sheriff? Did you find more damage?”
“Jaxon mentioned you’ve been having issues with the lock on the studio.
I didn’t think about it yesterday, but I did notice you struggled to unlock it when you opened it for us.
There are scrapes and gouges on it like someone’s tried to break in.
Have you noticed anything odd or out of place around here? Any sounds you haven’t recognized?”
“No. I haven’t been making anything new since....
I don’t spend much time in the studio lately.
It’s been hard to go in there. I only do so to grab old product for the shop.
But the shop really doesn’t sell that much anymore since they changed the inventory to more touristy stuff, like pens, T-shirts, and post cards. Cheap stuff, not real art.”
“Anything else wrong or seem out of place around here?”
“The yard light quit two or three weeks ago. The bulb must have burned out. Caleb and Jaxon said they’d check it. Then only... It’s silly to mention.”
“Nothing is silly. Tell me.”
“I don’t always sleep well. One night before the yard light burned out, I was in bed reading and thought I heard a woman scream. It was probably the red fox I sometime see around here or maybe a cougar. I got up and turned on the porch lights but didn’t see anything.”
“When did the yard light go out?”
“I honestly don’t know. Most of the time, once I’m home from work, I don’t go back out.
Wait, I can tell you.” Crossing the room to the calendar hanging on the wall, I lift the last page.
“It was the week I volunteered two nights in a row at the veterans’ center.
The light was working the first night when I got home after dark but wasn’t the next night. ”
I tap the calendar. “That was three days after I thought I heard a woman scream. I know that because the scream happened the night, I met Fawn Moirae for coffee at Mugg’s. She had some new wools to show me that she wanted to sell at the shop but was disappointed in the rate the owner offered her.”
Clay is looking over my shoulder at the dates on the calendar. “Do you mind if I take a picture of your calendar?”
“Go ahead, if you think it matters.”
After taking his photos, he turns and leans against the counter.
“Grace, the bulb isn’t burned out. Jaxon and Caleb found where the wire has been cut.
By the looks of the lock, someone tried to break into your shop.
They probably cut the wire first so they wouldn’t trip the light or be exposed by it when they tried.
“The guys also mentioned your porch lights keep burning out. Someone could be breaking them or replacing them with bad bulbs while you’re at work.
“Have you been receiving threats or anything suspicious?”
“No! Why would I? I have nothing. Just this house and the land. The items in the studio aren’t worth more than maybe five thousand at best, that’s including the equipment. And it’s a specialized market. A thief wouldn’t have a lot of buyers.”
“Has anyone offered to buy the land or house?”
“No.”
“Have you seen anything unusual around the house, in the woods?”
“Since Guy died, I haven’t gone into the woods that much. It was something we did together. He was prone to go on his own without me. He’d go for a hike to de-stress after a hard shift while I cooked dinner.
“Clay, I don’t understand this. I don’t.... Why?”
“Grace, did Guy have a favorite path he liked to hike? The same trail he always took?” Caleb asks.
“He would mostly just take off and go with what moved him....” A memory flickers, and I pause, worrying my lower lip.
“He did mention once that he thought someone may have been on our property, maybe camping out. We didn’t worry about occasional hikers, but he said a path was starting to be worn down and he wanted to keep a better eye on it. ”
“When was that?”
“A couple months before he died.”
Clay slips his phone back in his pocket.
“I’m going to do some more checking. Not today, it’s getting late and you’ve had enough going on the last couple of days.
But in the next day or so, I would like to go into the studio with you again.
You said you didn’t notice anything out of place yesterday, but we were only concerned with fire damage.
I want us to look closer.” He looks up at Caleb.
“I don’t want her in there alone. She’s either with me or one of you two as witnesses or protection.
Take photos of everything. You know the drill. ”
He turns his attention back to me. “I also want you to let Caleb stay with you until we straighten this out.”
“I’m sure that’s not...”
“It’s not a request, Grace. You either let him stay in the house with you or he’s going to be uncomfortable as hell trying to sleep in his truck. I do not want you left alone.”
I nod, secretly relieved.
After saying our goodbyes, we lock up and follow Jaxon to his home. Hands folded in my lap, my mind bounces all over the place. I don’t understand any of this.
Why? Why a fire? Why cut a wire? I—I don’t have enemies. I haven’t hurt anyone. I’m—everyone always called me ‘mouse’. I never wanted to be seen, I still don’t.
Glancing out the window, I swallow back the tears.
My house has been so empty and lonely the last two years.
I looked forward to going to work every day just to see people.
Always too shy to be a joiner, I really wasn’t that close to many people other than my husband.
We were both more introverted. We had each other, did everything together, and it was all we needed. We were content.
Fawn and I became friends when she brought her products in to sell. I met Maura when she had the dress shop down from where Guy and I had our business. I still see them when they come to town, but they have lives with their families now.
Maura talked me into volunteering at the veterans’ center, explaining the men and women just need someone to sit with them and listen.
She thought volunteering would be good for me, too.
She was right. It turned out I receive just as much comfort as I’m able to give. I’ve become close with many of them.
I haven’t been able to work on my pottery. It was the one thing that gave me purpose and made me feel valuable as an individual. The studio is still there, and I hoped that the desire would come back, that the loss would ease, and I’d find the joy again. That I’d....
Why would someone want to burn it down? It doesn’t have meaning or memories to anyone but me.
Something warm glides over my clasped hands. I glance down. Caleb’s tanned, work roughened hand covers mine. He squeezes gently.
“We’ll fix this. We’ll find who did it and I’ll make sure you’re okay. You aren’t alone.”
Slipping his fingers between mine, he locks our hands together. A subtle promise. A welcome connection. Turning my gaze out the window, I study his reflection in the glass. The tightness in my chest eases just a little.