The Cracked Pot (16 page)

"I think you'll find that suitable," he said, and then he was gone.

I opened up the envelope, not sure what I would find, and was startled to see only a letter inside. It was a flyer for an antique auction in Bloodsbury.

I couldn't believe he'd stiffed me. He'd seemed like such a nice man. It wasn't that I'd lose any money on the transac tion given his earlier firing fee, but it was a rather petty way of getting out of paying the final bill.

I took out a pin and tacked the flyer to the board behind the register where I kept the delinquent checks I got from time to time. It would serve as a reminder that I was running a business, not a charity shop. It served me right. I'd ne glected to name a price, so he'd neglected to pay it.

I did hate losing that cottage for nothing, though. I de cided to make another one and put it in the display window. Something good might come of this after all.

I was just putting the walls of my latest effort together when David walked in.

"I wasn't sure I'd be seeing you today," I said.

"Sorry I'm late. I had some problems I had to deal with." He looked absolutely hangdog.

"Is the sheriff giving you trouble?" Had Hodges amped up his pursuit of David as the killer?

"I almost wish it had been that. You know what? I don't think I'm one of his major suspects anymore."

"What makes you say that?"

David shrugged. "He wants an easy arrest, but I think he knows I'm not guilty."

"Then why are you so glum?"

He looked as if he wanted to cry as he said, "Annie broke up with me."

"How awful for you," I said. "Did she say why?"

"Oh yes, in complete and thorough detail. It appears that I've been less than the ideal boyfriend, and she kindly pointed out several ways I could improve myself in the fu ture, were I ever lucky enough to make the acquaintance of a girl of her caliber again."

"Ouch, that had to sting," I said as I added the roof. It surprised me when I realized that I was making a cottage just like the one I'd done for my customer. I wasn't sure why, but something about the place seemed to beckon to me.

"You don't seem all that sympathetic," David said a little truculently.

"For sympathy, you should go to your mother. For the truth, I'll do just as well as anyone else will."

David's face dropped. "So, you think she's right?"

"David, my dear, sweet friend, how should I know? Only two people ever really know what goes wrong with a rela tionship, but it sounds as though Annie gave you some things to think about. Take her advice, and maybe you'll do better next time."

"I wanted to do better this time," he admitted.

"Sorry, I can't help you there, either. Annie's a fine young woman, but I'm sure she's not the only eligible one in Maple Ridge."

"I guess," David said. Then, for the first time since walk ing in, he seemed to notice what I was doing. "Model build ing?"

"No, this is real construction. We should do more of these for our paint crowd," I said.

"They'd have to cost a fortune," David said. "Making them looks pretty labor intensive."

"All it costs us is time and clay, and we've got plenty of each at the moment. Grab some clay and start building."

"Sure, why not? What should I build?"

"Visualize your dream house," I said, "and then make it happen."

"As easy as that?"

"It can be, if you want it to," I said.

By the time I'd finished my replica of the cottage, David was lost in a design of his own. He was right about his con cerns of how much to charge for them. A great deal of time and effort went into each piece, but I didn't care. By build ing cottages and bisque-firing them for our customers, we were offering them more choices than the norm of cups, mugs, plates, and saucers.

David studied the house he was building, then said softly, "You know, the worst part of it is that she was right, all the way across the board."

I patted his shoulder. "Just remember, where there's life, there's hope. Nobody's born knowing how to date. That's why you do so much of it. Believe it or not, you get better with practice."

"Then I'd better get started. Do you have any candidates for me?"

"No thanks, I'm not about to set you up on any blind dates," I said, as the front door chimed.

I was ready to wait on a new customer when I saw it was my uncle Don.

"We need to talk. Right now," he said, the fire leaping from his glare.

Chapter
9

"Go ahead, I'm listening."

"Not here. Out there," Don said as he pointed to the side walk in front of Fire at Will.

David looked at me, and I shrugged. If my uncle didn't want to talk in front of my assistant, that was fine with me.

I followed him out, and I was barely onto the street when he snarled, "Don't you ever go after Rose Nygren again, do you hear me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I understand you went by her store and was browbeat ing her," he snapped. "You have no right."

"How did you hear about it?" I asked.

"Rose called me," he admitted.

"I thought you two were estranged." This was getting in teresting. I'd meant to stir things up in Maple Ridge with my inquiries, but I was beginning to realize that I might be stirring up more than I'd bargained for.

"We were, but she didn't know who else to call."

"I find that interesting, don't you?" I asked. I never would have believed it, but my uncle's voice actually soft ened whenever he talked about Rose. "After all, it's been a long time."

"Too long," he admitted, "but you're missing the point."

"Am I?"

"Don't be that way, Carolyn. It wasn't cute when you were a kid, and it's surely not attractive now. Leave her alone, or you'll wish you'd listened to me." He smacked one hand with the other, and the ring I'd noticed earlier caught the light. I'd hate to think what it would do if he hit me.

"Are you threatening me? What happened to blood be ing thicker than water?"

"Don't count too much on that," he said, then stormed off.

I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the con frontation, and saw Kendra ducking back into her shop. She'd no doubt seen and heard everything.

I still needed to talk to her, and David was minding the store, so I pulled off my apron and hurried over to Hattie's Attic before Kendra could call half of Maple Ridge and tell them what she'd just seen.

She looked startled to see me enter her shop, and as I'd suspected, Kendra had her telephone firmly in her hand. "Carolyn, I wasn't expecting to see you."

"Put the phone down, Kendra. We need to talk."

She looked at me warily. "I'm busy right now."

"So am I," I said. "This won't take long."

There wasn't a soul in her shop besides the two of us, so at least I had that in my favor. "I want to talk to you about Richard Atkins."

"We've had this conversation, Carolyn. You're repeating yourself."

"Where were you two nights ago?"

Kendra just smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I'm not digging into your social life. I just want to be able to eliminate you as a suspect."

Kendra shook her head. "I'd love to help you, but I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that. There are other peo ple's lives involved."

"Just give me a name, Kendra, and I'll get off your back. I promise."

"As I said, it's none of your business."

"Why does everyone keep saying that? It's a simple question."

The door chimed, and David hurried in. "Carolyn, I was hoping I'd find you here."

"What's going on?" The look on his face told me some thing was seriously wrong.

"You'd better get back to the shop. Something's hap pened."

Kendra butted in. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Sorry, I need to talk to Carolyn about it first."

I followed him out of Hattie's Attic, but I wasn't going to wait until we got back to the shop to find out what had brought him out searching for me so urgently.

I put a hand on his arm to stop him. "David, what is it?"

"It's Bill. There's been an accident."

I felt my heart stop. "What happened?"

"I don't know all the details. He was working in his shop and something happened."

I raced toward Fire at Will to get my car keys. "How bad is it?"

"Carolyn, all I know is that he's in the emergency room. Come on, you're in no shape to drive. I'll take you."

"I'm not riding on the back of your motorcycle," I said.

"We can take your car, but you don't need to add to your problems right now. I hope you don't mind, but I already locked the shop up and I grabbed your keys."

"Of course I don't mind. Let's go." As we got into the car, I asked, "What exactly did the hospital say?"

"They didn't call," he admitted. "Annie was there visit ing her aunt and she saw him come in. That's all I know."

I nodded, too numb to speak. What had happened? Had Bill had an accident with one of his woodworking ma chines? Had he had a heart attack? A thousand scenarios raced through my mind. I'd have to call the boys, but not un til after I knew what had happened. They'd want to come back home to be with their father. I'd need to change the linens in the guest room and pull a cot out of the garage. Then there was food to worry about. Oh Lord, what was my mind doing? I was probably thinking about the arrange ments because it was something I could actually control. What had happened to my dear, sweet, ornery husband?

David pulled up at the ER doors. "You go on. I'll park and then join you."

I shot out of the car without even thanking him. There were several people in the waiting room, but no sign of Bill. It must have been urgent if they'd taken him straight back. I approached the nurse's station. "I'm here to see my hus band."

The nurse, buried in paperwork behind her desk, held up one finger. "Hang on a second."

"His name's Bill Emerson," I said.

"You're going to have to wait."

There wasn't much chance of that. Since she wasn't be ing helpful, I decided to find someone who was. I started back to the treatment area when the security guard on duty blocked my path. "I'm afraid you can't go in there, ma'am."

"If you think you're going to stop me, you'd better pull out that gun, because I'm going in."

Then I heard a voice I knew behind me. "Carolyn, what are you doing here?"

I whirled around to see my husband standing there, a sheepish look on his face and a bloodied rag wrapped around his left hand. "What happened?" I asked as I hugged him.

"I'm fine," he said as he pulled away from me. "Watch the hand, okay?"

"You're bleeding. Why are they making you wait? What did you do to yourself?"

"I had the table-saw blade set a little too high. It's noth ing," he said.

"Bleeding like that isn't nothing. Come on, we're going to get you looked at."

I was ready to unleash on the nurse when she looked up and said, "Bill Emerson."

My husband said, "Wow, you get results."

"Just your husband, ma'am," she said sternly to me.

"If I can't go with him, he's not going in."

"Hey, don't I have a say in this? I really would like some body to look at this. Go back to your shop. I'll call you when I'm finished."

"You've lost your mind as well, haven't you? I'll be right here when they're finished with you."

He shrugged, then followed the nurse through the for bidden double doors. Before going through, he paused and asked, "How'd you know I was here?"

"A little bird told me. Now go on."

A minute later, David came in. "The parking lot's jammed, so I had to go to the overflow area. How is he?"

"Not nearly as dire as we thought," I said. "He cut his hand on his table saw." The rag he'd wrapped around his hand had been soaked through with blood, but I was hoping it wasn't as serious as it looked. I'd long given up on warn ing my husband about the dangers of the power equipment he worked with every day. Wood was tougher than flesh, but up until now, he hadn't had an accident. At least not that he'd told me about. "David, why don't you take the car and reopen the shop? There's no telling how long we'll be."

"Sure, I'll be glad to. Listen, I'm sorry if I got you wor ried over nothing."

I kissed his cheek. "You did exactly the right thing. Now go on. I'll see you soon."

After he was gone, I paced around the waiting room, then sat and picked up one of the year-old magazines lying on a table. I was catching up on old news when I felt a pres ence in front of me. I looked and was surprised to see Sher iff Hodges standing there.

"What are you doing here?" he asked me.

"I always come here on my lunch hour," I said. "They have the best magazine collection in town."

"Don't be smart with me, Carolyn."

"Bill had an accident," I said.

"Is he all right?" Was that actual concern in the sheriff's voice? Why not? He liked Bill, which was more than he could say about me.

"He seems to think so."

"What happened to him?"

"He cut his hand working on his table saw," I explained.