handing giving it to the customer.
“Will we see you tomorrow?” Rose asked.
“Maybe,” the blond-wigged older woman said with a shrug. “Have a nice evening.”
“You, too!”
The customer walked away.
Rose turned to Katie. “She’s our best customer. Comes in every day. Now if we could just get her to buy something over five dollars, we’d all get rich.”
Katie smiled, but it quickly turned to a frown. Artisans Alley’s income came from renting vendor space to the artists, but if their sales were so lackluster, it was no wonder they found it hard to pay their rents.
Within minutes Artisans Alley emptied out, and Katie followed the last customer to the door and locked up for the night.
The tag room was just to the left of the main double doors. Clad in her raincoat and scarf, Ida exited the little room and turned off the light. “Hi, Katie. All but the last batch of tags have been sorted and taped down,” she reported. When Katie had last ducked into what she had begun to think of as “Ida territory,” she’d seen the older woman bent over the table, carefully lining up the price tags that had been removed from merchandise.
“See you on Tuesday,” Ida chirped and headed for the side—vendor—exit.
“We won’t be open on Tuesday,” Katie called. “Tuesday is Ezra’s funeral.”
Ida stopped short. “Oh, dear. But I’m used to coming in here on Tuesdays. What will I do if I can’t come here?”
Was her routine that engrained? “Stay home?” Katie suggested.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because Artisans Alley will be locked up. We won’t be open.”
Ida seemed to need time to think about that. “Oh.”
“Perhaps you’ll consider attending Ezra’s funeral service on Tuesday morning.”
Ida frowned. “Maybe.” She started off toward the vendor exit once more, her steps slower.
Katie waited until the woman was out of earshot before she turned to Rose. “Does Ida have some kind of emotional or mental problem?”
“I’d say so. She calls that big ugly wart on her cheek a beauty mark, which is certainly not what I’d call it.”
Nor would Katie.
Rose giggled. “I told you she had more than one screw loose.” She changed the subject. “I’ll do the walk-through with you if you’d like,” Rose volunteered, and she stayed until Katie had completed every task on Vance’s list before she retrieved her coat from the tag room.
“You did great today, Katie,” Rose said, her good cheer giving Katie a much-needed boost of confidence.
“Thanks, Rose.”
“Are you leaving now? We could walk out together.”
Katie shook her head. “I have a few more things to do in the office, then I’ll be off.”
“Do you want me to wait with you?” Rose asked, sounding anxious.
“Oh, no. You’ve been on your feet all day at that register. I’ll be fine here alone.”
Rose pulled out a silk kerchief from her coat pocket and tied it around her tight blond curls. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow night at the funeral home,” she said, her voice cracking. She swallowed hard, and Katie gently patted her shoulder. Then Rose cleared her throat and straightened. “I’ll say good night, then.”
Katie walked her to the door and locked it behind Rose before heading back for her office. Artisans Alley felt cavernous and empty without another living soul within it, and she found the silence unnerved her. Katie took the paper sack full of cash, checks, and credit card receipts from the two registers and locked them in the back of one of the file cabinets, crossing her fingers that the burglar wouldn’t make a return visit.
She tidied up the desk and remembered the lack of dinner opportunities in her refrigerator at home. About the only things in her cupboard were bags of flour and sugar, a couple of cans of cat food, and a bag of kitty kibble for her cat, Mason. Her wallet was empty, thanks to the pizza and soda she’d paid for the previous night, and she didn’t feel up to a trip
“Will we see you tomorrow?” Rose asked.
“Maybe,” the blond-wigged older woman said with a shrug. “Have a nice evening.”
“You, too!”
The customer walked away.
Rose turned to Katie. “She’s our best customer. Comes in every day. Now if we could just get her to buy something over five dollars, we’d all get rich.”
Katie smiled, but it quickly turned to a frown. Artisans Alley’s income came from renting vendor space to the artists, but if their sales were so lackluster, it was no wonder they found it hard to pay their rents.
Within minutes Artisans Alley emptied out, and Katie followed the last customer to the door and locked up for the night.
The tag room was just to the left of the main double doors. Clad in her raincoat and scarf, Ida exited the little room and turned off the light. “Hi, Katie. All but the last batch of tags have been sorted and taped down,” she reported. When Katie had last ducked into what she had begun to think of as “Ida territory,” she’d seen the older woman bent over the table, carefully lining up the price tags that had been removed from merchandise.
“See you on Tuesday,” Ida chirped and headed for the side—vendor—exit.
“We won’t be open on Tuesday,” Katie called. “Tuesday is Ezra’s funeral.”
Ida stopped short. “Oh, dear. But I’m used to coming in here on Tuesdays. What will I do if I can’t come here?”
Was her routine that engrained? “Stay home?” Katie suggested.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because Artisans Alley will be locked up. We won’t be open.”
Ida seemed to need time to think about that. “Oh.”
“Perhaps you’ll consider attending Ezra’s funeral service on Tuesday morning.”
Ida frowned. “Maybe.” She started off toward the vendor exit once more, her steps slower.
Katie waited until the woman was out of earshot before she turned to Rose. “Does Ida have some kind of emotional or mental problem?”
“I’d say so. She calls that big ugly wart on her cheek a beauty mark, which is certainly not what I’d call it.”
Nor would Katie.
Rose giggled. “I told you she had more than one screw loose.” She changed the subject. “I’ll do the walk-through with you if you’d like,” Rose volunteered, and she stayed until Katie had completed every task on Vance’s list before she retrieved her coat from the tag room.
“You did great today, Katie,” Rose said, her good cheer giving Katie a much-needed boost of confidence.
“Thanks, Rose.”
“Are you leaving now? We could walk out together.”
Katie shook her head. “I have a few more things to do in the office, then I’ll be off.”
“Do you want me to wait with you?” Rose asked, sounding anxious.
“Oh, no. You’ve been on your feet all day at that register. I’ll be fine here alone.”
Rose pulled out a silk kerchief from her coat pocket and tied it around her tight blond curls. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow night at the funeral home,” she said, her voice cracking. She swallowed hard, and Katie gently patted her shoulder. Then Rose cleared her throat and straightened. “I’ll say good night, then.”
Katie walked her to the door and locked it behind Rose before heading back for her office. Artisans Alley felt cavernous and empty without another living soul within it, and she found the silence unnerved her. Katie took the paper sack full of cash, checks, and credit card receipts from the two registers and locked them in the back of one of the file cabinets, crossing her fingers that the burglar wouldn’t make a return visit.
She tidied up the desk and remembered the lack of dinner opportunities in her refrigerator at home. About the only things in her cupboard were bags of flour and sugar, a couple of cans of cat food, and a bag of kitty kibble for her cat, Mason. Her wallet was empty, thanks to the pizza and soda she’d paid for the previous night, and she didn’t feel up to a trip
Similar Books
