Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

Echoes - 2

Pete McKayne moved his dark eyes slowly over the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Three steps away, Alex and Claire saw his frown and traded a look.

"Hum!" he grunted.

"What?" Alex asked.

"When do you wanna open?"

"The book dealers said our first order will be here in a week," Claire replied.

"As soon as possible," said Alex.

"Then forget about hickory and oak. If you want the shelves you guys designed finished in time, I have to use soft wood."

Claire cut Alex's complaint off. "What would you choose?"

"Ash, cedar."

"But those are light woods!" Alex argued.

Pete rested his big hands on her shoulders and made her face the empty store.

"Look at the beams and the floorboards, Al: oak with dark ink. The place is narrow and you have only one side window. Add one more dark board and this will look as tight as a tuna can."

Alex sighed, giving up, that made Pete let out a satisfied chuckle.

"Okay, light wood it is, then. What d'you have in mind?" asked Claire.

"The bookcases opposite the side window, to get all the light. Another case back there, in angle, dividing the length of the room to give you guys a small backroom behind it. A counter with a lot of glass along the bookcases."

"You're forgetting the table I want in the middle of the store," said Alex.

"That you'll find at Clarisse's. Sure she's got some old junk to give the place the proper dusty, old-fashioned touch of a bookstore."

"Who died?"

Alex and Pete spun around to look out with Claire, in time to see the hearse drive down Main Street, only one black car escorting it.

"Oak!" Pete snarled, spotting the casket on the hearse. "That scumbag deserves rotten pine! So worms can come out to puke!"

"Who, Pete?" asked Claire.

"You don't know? That's Neil Logan."

They watched both vehicles drive away. People on the street stopped for a moment to watch them too, shook their heads and resumed their way, murmuring.

"What happened to him?" Claire insisted.

"The son of a bitch had a heart attack last night, while beating up his wife."

"He abused Kat?" asked Alex, taken aback.

"C'mon, Al! The whole town knew!"

"Well, I didn't."

Pete zipped up his jacket and patted Alex's shoulder. "Maybe now that you're gonna be out of that backroom in the bank, you can be in the loop."

"Not sure I want to," she replied thoughtfully. "Bye, Pete, thanks."

"Anytime, girls."

Alex and Claire left the empty store almost on the carpenter's heels, and a few minutes later Alex parked the Hilux outside Clarisse's antique shop.

The place was a maze of shelves overflowing trifles, with hardly any room to move around. It usually caused people a sudden urge to flee before triggering a catastrophe.

To the Corbans relief, Clarisse led them to the warehouse behind the store, where larger objects and furniture allowed them to move without breaking things at every step. Clarisse took them to a line of old tables against a wall.

"Pick one of these," she said, her bijou tingling as she pointed at one end of the line. "The others are too big for Peg's store."

A single glance told Claire Alex didn't like any of the four candidates. The girl nodded to the other corner of the warehouse with an innocent smile.

"And what about those? They look the right size."

Alex turned to them, and before Clarisse could answer, she headed to the other corner. The woman hurried after her, the jingling of her bijou echoing all over the place.

"Wait, Al! Those aren't restored yet. They're of no use to you."

Alex ignored her, her eyes caught by one of the tables, dark, heavy, rounded corners, legs carved as lion's paws. She slid her hand over the old scratched surface, already picturing it in the bookstore, covered with a white cloth with a vase of flowers, to display books on sale.

"Can we measure this one, Clarisse?" she asked softly. "I think it's the right size, but I'd like to be sure."

"This one? Al! Look at the state it's in! You cannot have this in a brand new store!"

"Nobody will see the scratches under the cloth and the books."

"And Pete can sand it if you don't have the time," Claire added, joining them.

Clarisse frowned, taking mortal offense. "What? Pete McKayne? That brute will only ruin this fine wood!"

Alex gifted her with a nice smile. "He'd just sand it. And then, we can paint it with any varnish you suggest."

Everybody in Bold Peak knew for a fact that when a Corban set their mind on something, there was no way to sidetrack them. So they just saved themselves time and energy by giving up and letting the Corbans have their way. The whole town agreed Alex was purebred Corban, and Clarisse was born and raised in Bold Peak. So she just shrugged and took Alex's credit card.