Annie heard the door to Malone’s Hardware being unlocked, and a girl in her late-teens opened it, broom in hand.
“Good morning, Kailyn,” Annie greeted her. “Is your father in this morning, or are you and Trace manning the store?”
“Hi, Mrs. Dawson,” Kailyn answered, her voice cheerful. “Dad’s here. Good thing, too, because Trace is M.I.A. Probably stayed up too late playing Skyrim.”
Annie tilted her head to the right. “Skyrim?”
“It’s a video game. Gaming is just about the only thing that will keep Trace in one place for more than two minutes. Otherwise, he’s outdoors.” Kailyn brandished the broom. “And he’s missing the one store chore that would take him outside.”
Annie patted Kailyn’s shoulder, taking care not to snag her ring in the girl’s straight, cinnamon-sugar–color hair. “I’m sure your father appreciates your help. And enjoy the sweeping; this morning is as perfect as they come.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Dawson.” Kailyn opened the door for Annie.
As Annie’s eyes adjusted from being in the bright summer sunshine, she heard a door in the back of the store close and a voice call, “You’re my first customer of the day, Annie. How can I help you? Boots hasn’t shredded any more screens, has she?” As Mike came closer she could see his brown hair—not as thick as it used to be—and friendly eyes.
Annie’s green eyes danced. “No. Boots has moved on to more interesting acts of minor destruction.” She pulled the project bag from her shoulder. “My most important reason for coming today is to see if you can help me identify something I found in the attic.”
“Another Grey Gables mystery?” Mike’s eyebrows rose. His hand reached up to tug on his left ear.
“I’m not sure yet,” admitted Annie.
Mike waved her over to the front counter. “Well, let’s have a look.”
Mike made sure his front counter was kept tidy and clean, which was no easy task when running a hardware store in a state full of committed do-it-yourselfers. Annie opened the bag and drew out the sporran.
“Ah, a sporran,” Mike leaned closer to it. “Sealskin.”
“Yes, that’s what Alice thought it was,” said Annie. She opened the clasp. “The items inside are what brought me here.” She reached in to pull out the bands, setting them on the counter in a row. “Do you know what these are?”
Mike picked up one of the bands and examined it for a moment, silent. “Ayuh. These are ferrules, connector pieces for a bagpipe.” Before he could say more, the front door of the store swung open and Reed Edwards, Stony Point’s chief of police, filled the doorway. “Oh, excuse me, Annie,” Mike said.
“Of course, Mike.” Annie turned around to face Reed, looking up a fair distance to reach his face. “Good morning, Chief Edwards.”
The chief was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, a far cry from his work uniform. Annie thought he looked even more like a lumberjack than usual.
“Morning, Annie. Everything quiet at Grey Gables these days?”
“Yes, except when Boots wants her food, or Alice plays a practical joke.” Annie had had to call on Stony Point’s small police department for assistance so many times she was almost embarrassed. Thankfully, Reed and his police officers had always kept her safe while maintaining general good humor.
“What can I get for you, Chief?” Mike asked.
Reed waved him off. “Just some things for softball field maintenance, Mike.” The police chief came by his dark tan honestly. When he wasn’t vigilantly watching over the citizens and property of Stony Point, he coached softball and spent time on the water. “Nothing I can’t get for myself.” He disappeared between two rows of shelves.
Mike and Annie focused their attention back on the ferrules. “Can you tell me anything about the engraving, Mike? Any idea what the significance of it might be?”
Mike’s mustache quirked up on one side as he considered the symbol. “Bagpipe owners can have their ferrules engraved with anything that will fit on it, according to the skill level of the engraver.” He set one of the ferrules on its side and gave it a little spin. “Whoever engraved these is a master. Sometimes a clan badge or symbol is used, or a military insignia or something significant to the pipe owner.”
“Have you ever seen this bird and rose symbol before?” asked Annie.
Mike stopped the spin of the ferrule, picked it up and squinted at it. “No, I haven’t. Wish I could be more help.”
“Well, you gave me a place to start, Mike.” Annie scooped the ferrules into the sporran. “This is a long shot, but have you ever seen the design on the sporran clasp?” She closed the sporran and handed it to him.