vigilante heroics where someone—maybe the wrong person—winds up getting hurt. It’s happened before, and I don’t want to be bailing you out on a murder charge one day.”
“Don’t worry, boss, I get it. I read the news online,” he soberly agreed, dropping the imaginary weapons and sticking his hands back in his vest pockets. Mary Ann, meanwhile, shook her head in agreement. “Darla is right. Patrolling a neighborhood is a serious responsibility. Maybe that nice Detective Reese can give us some pointers. But we really should get the lead out and organize this before anyone else in the neighborhood is murdered.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll ask Reese to talk to you two about it as soon as I see him again. Now, why don’t you take Robert and get those boxes moved?”
The two of them headed out, sidestepping a snoozing Hamlet, who appeared to have no interest in joining any sort of citizens’ brigade. His green eyes remained tightly shut, even when two customers almost tripped over him a few minutes later. He still hadn’t stirred even after Robert, bearing the promised cranberry and pumpkin bread, returned from helping Mary Ann.
“Mary Ann’s a better crime fighter than you,” Darla commented in the cat’s direction while heading for the foreign language section to answer a phone customer’s question.
That accomplished, she tried ringing Jake’s cell, but her call went straight to voice mail. She left a quick message—Hey, how about lunch at the deli later?—and then got to work paying invoices and going through the latest publishers’ catalogues in between assisting customers. Robert kept equally busy stocking shelves and jumping in to help ring up sales. Every time the bells on the front door jangled, Darla looked up to see if perhaps Barry had decided to stop by, only to be vaguely disappointed each time that it was not him.
It was almost noon when Jake called back on the store phone.
“Hey, kid, I got your message. Sorry, I can’t break for lunch. Things are popping.”
“That’s okay, I understand,” Darla told her. “I don’t suppose what’s popping has anything to do with Tera or Hilda Aguilar, does it?”
She heard a small sigh from the other end before Jake responded, “Remember what I said about client confidentiality? Oops, someone else is trying to ring through. Let me get that, and I’ll stop by the store later, all right?”
Jake hung up before Darla could even reply. Frowning, Darla hung up the receiver.
She considered calling Reese to find out if he’d located Tera, but then thought better of it. He’d just tell her it wasn’t any of her business. She decided to send him a text instead, asking about the neighborhood watch, and let him reply at his convenience. And maybe at the same time he’d give her an update on the Curt situation.
She waited until Robert finished ringing up the soccer mom he’d been helping. She was pleased to see that the woman had bought one of the books featured in Robert’s window display in addition to a DIY book on plumbing and, strangely, a copy of Robinson Crusoe. But then, she’d gotten used to customers’ eclectic tastes in reading matter.
“Hey, it’s lunchtime,” she reminded the teen. “I feel like a turkey Reuben special from the deli. How about I buy, you fly?”
“Yeah, sure.” He gave her an enthusiastic grin. “Is it okay if I get, you know, one of those big chocolate chip cookies, too?”
“Sure. Consider it a bonus for your good work on the window display. Tell them to put it all on my account.”
“Yes!” He gave a little fist pump and reached under the counter for his jacket. “Back in a minute.”
She smiled as he tore out of the store like Hamlet on catnip. All in all, Robert was working out quite well, she decided. Once he’d had a little more time and training, she might even manage an extra day off on occasion, with him to take up the slack.
Since this was their usual prelunch lull, Darla headed upstairs to the storeroom. She returned downstairs with a lamb’s-wool duster in one hand and an ostrich-feather duster in the other. Picking up where she’d left off a couple of days earlier, she got to work cleaning the inventory, allowing herself the occasional unavoidable sneeze in the process.
She’d been amazed when she’d first taken over the shop to learn how quickly dust accumulated on books. While the regular stock was treated to the standard duster routine, James had a special HEPA vacuum he used on