anything else specific about him?”
“I’m really sorry. I just don’t. He came in and paid for the clock and left.”
“I don’t suppose he paid with a check or credit card,” Annie asked, hoping Sanders would turn out to be the stupidest criminal in the world, but she wasn’t surprised to see the girl shake her head.
“Just cash. Tens and twenties.”
Mr. Malcolm smiled at Annie apologetically. “All right, Jennifer. We’ll talk about this in a few minutes.”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl said again, looking as if she might cry, and then she scurried into the back of the shop.
“The daughter of one of my niece’s friends,” he said. “Two years of junior college and no experience. I thought I could help.”
Annie felt bad for both of them. “She’ll learn. In the meantime, I suppose we’d better call the police.” She stopped for a minute, thinking. “No, maybe we can get this cleared up without involving them. If the man who picked up the clock is who I think he is, then I know right where to find him. Do you think I could talk to Jennifer again?”
Mr. Malcolm looked puzzled, but he smiled. “Of course.”
****
Jennifer was more than willing to help. Her cooperation was mostly to atone for allowing the clock to be stolen, Annie was sure. But she was glad to have Jennifer along.
Annie glanced over at her as she started the car. “All you have to do when we get there is look around the shop as if you’re looking for something to buy. Then, if you see the man who picked up the clock, let me know.”
The girl nodded, and then her big blue eyes pooled with tears. “Mrs. Dawson, I feel so bad about what happened. I would never have let him have it if he hadn’t known your name and all about the clock.”
“We’ll get it worked out, Jennifer. Don’t you worry. And you know what? Now you have some valuable business experience.” Annie smiled at her and gave her a comforting pat. “And we’re going to get that clock back. You just watch.”
****
As soon as she and Jennifer went into Frank Sanders’s shop, Annie started searching the jumbled shelves for any sign of Mary Beth’s clock. Surely he wouldn’t have it there in plain sight. It was most likely at his home by now, part of his private collection of pieces that “spoke to him.” Still, she kept looking.
Jennifer wandered toward the middle of the shop to look at an ornate English wardrobe carved with birds and animals and trees, a rising sun and intertwined rings and crowns.
“Lovely piece, isn’t it?”
Annie glanced over at the sound of Frank Sanders’s voice.
Jennifer was smiling at him, nothing in her expression to show that she recognized him or that he recognized her.
“Oh yes, it is. I … I’m really just looking though. My mom’s birthday is in a couple of weeks, and I’d like to find something nice for her.”
Sanders smiled too. “I’m sure we can find something she would like. Does she— Well, hello, Mrs. Dawson. What a surprise to see you here again!” He turned back to Jennifer. “She’s not your mother, is she?”
“Oh no. Actually, I work at—”
“We’re just friends, Mr. Sanders,” Annie said. “Although I do have some kind of sad news.”
“What’s that?”
“You remember my friend, Mary Beth Brock? You were very interested in her mantel clock, the one with all the beautiful carving.”
“Oh, certainly. I won’t soon forget that piece. Really exquisite.”
Annie nodded, watching his eyes. “I’m afraid it was stolen.”
He looked dismayed. “Stolen? I know her home was broken into, but she said the clock—”
“Was being repaired, yes. It seems that someone stole it from the repair shop.”
“Oh dear. That’s a shame. I hope it was insured. Or at least that the repair shop will pay her the value of it. Too bad she didn’t take my offer while she could. It was twice what insurance will give her. Maybe three times.”
“It was the strangest thing,” Annie
“I’m really sorry. I just don’t. He came in and paid for the clock and left.”
“I don’t suppose he paid with a check or credit card,” Annie asked, hoping Sanders would turn out to be the stupidest criminal in the world, but she wasn’t surprised to see the girl shake her head.
“Just cash. Tens and twenties.”
Mr. Malcolm smiled at Annie apologetically. “All right, Jennifer. We’ll talk about this in a few minutes.”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl said again, looking as if she might cry, and then she scurried into the back of the shop.
“The daughter of one of my niece’s friends,” he said. “Two years of junior college and no experience. I thought I could help.”
Annie felt bad for both of them. “She’ll learn. In the meantime, I suppose we’d better call the police.” She stopped for a minute, thinking. “No, maybe we can get this cleared up without involving them. If the man who picked up the clock is who I think he is, then I know right where to find him. Do you think I could talk to Jennifer again?”
Mr. Malcolm looked puzzled, but he smiled. “Of course.”
****
Jennifer was more than willing to help. Her cooperation was mostly to atone for allowing the clock to be stolen, Annie was sure. But she was glad to have Jennifer along.
Annie glanced over at her as she started the car. “All you have to do when we get there is look around the shop as if you’re looking for something to buy. Then, if you see the man who picked up the clock, let me know.”
The girl nodded, and then her big blue eyes pooled with tears. “Mrs. Dawson, I feel so bad about what happened. I would never have let him have it if he hadn’t known your name and all about the clock.”
“We’ll get it worked out, Jennifer. Don’t you worry. And you know what? Now you have some valuable business experience.” Annie smiled at her and gave her a comforting pat. “And we’re going to get that clock back. You just watch.”
****
As soon as she and Jennifer went into Frank Sanders’s shop, Annie started searching the jumbled shelves for any sign of Mary Beth’s clock. Surely he wouldn’t have it there in plain sight. It was most likely at his home by now, part of his private collection of pieces that “spoke to him.” Still, she kept looking.
Jennifer wandered toward the middle of the shop to look at an ornate English wardrobe carved with birds and animals and trees, a rising sun and intertwined rings and crowns.
“Lovely piece, isn’t it?”
Annie glanced over at the sound of Frank Sanders’s voice.
Jennifer was smiling at him, nothing in her expression to show that she recognized him or that he recognized her.
“Oh yes, it is. I … I’m really just looking though. My mom’s birthday is in a couple of weeks, and I’d like to find something nice for her.”
Sanders smiled too. “I’m sure we can find something she would like. Does she— Well, hello, Mrs. Dawson. What a surprise to see you here again!” He turned back to Jennifer. “She’s not your mother, is she?”
“Oh no. Actually, I work at—”
“We’re just friends, Mr. Sanders,” Annie said. “Although I do have some kind of sad news.”
“What’s that?”
“You remember my friend, Mary Beth Brock? You were very interested in her mantel clock, the one with all the beautiful carving.”
“Oh, certainly. I won’t soon forget that piece. Really exquisite.”
Annie nodded, watching his eyes. “I’m afraid it was stolen.”
He looked dismayed. “Stolen? I know her home was broken into, but she said the clock—”
“Was being repaired, yes. It seems that someone stole it from the repair shop.”
“Oh dear. That’s a shame. I hope it was insured. Or at least that the repair shop will pay her the value of it. Too bad she didn’t take my offer while she could. It was twice what insurance will give her. Maybe three times.”
“It was the strangest thing,” Annie
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