“I went to pick it up earlier today.”
Mary Beth looked at Annie expectantly. “So? Where is it?”
“I’m so sorry, Mary Beth. I don’t have it. Somebody stole it from the repair shop.”
Mary Beth rolled her eyes. “Cute. Do you need me to help you get it out of the—” Her forehead wrinkled. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I am so sorry. Mr. Malcolm wanted to call you to apologize, but I told him I should talk to you first.”
“Was his place broken into also?”
“No.” Annie took Mary Beth by the arm and sat down with her on the couch. “It’s just really stupid. Some friend of his niece’s just started working for him, and she let someone pick it up without the claim ticket. Someone who knew your name and mine.”
Mary Beth frowned hard. “Frank Sanders.”
“It almost has to be. I couldn’t get much of a description from the girl, but I thought it could be Frank. She said he was about forty and tall.”
“Tall?”
“OK, maybe she meant tallish. But she also said he was nearly bald. He’s definitely not bald.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a thieving little weasel wore a rug, you know.”
Annie couldn’t help laughing. “I’m glad you’re not too mad about it.”
“Oh, I’m plenty mad.” Her voice shook a little in spite of her smile. “He struck me wrong from the minute we went into his shop, and now I know why. I think I’ll just go pay Mr. Sanders a visit.”
“That won’t do any good. I already tried. The girl from the repair place and I went to his shop. She didn’t recognize him.”
“You’re joking. Really?”
“Really. She’s sure he wasn’t the man who picked up the clock. And he showed me a boarding pass for a flight from New York City. It was for this morning. Sanders couldn’t have been the one who got the clock.”
Mary Beth scowled. “Then he had help.”
“That’s what I think too. But, really, as beautiful as it is, it’s not that valuable. The police told me he doesn’t have a criminal record apart from a couple of old safety-code violations for his shop, and he took care of those a long time ago. It’s not like he routinely steals things and then sells them.”
“No, but he wanted my clock. I could tell.”
“That’s obvious. But now we have to let the police take care of it.”
Mary Beth nodded, calming. “I know you’re right. I just can’t believe the nerve of the man.” She finally grinned. “I might just snatch that rug right off his head.”
“Jennifer—that’s the girl from the repair shop—and I already made a report.” Annie dug in her purse and pulled out a business card. “This is the name of the officer we talked to. You’ll have to give him a call. I’m sure you’ll have to go file a complaint since it’s your clock.”
“All right.”
“The officer is supposed to go talk to Mr. Sanders too. I don’t know when that will be. I guess when he has time.”
“OK.”
“And I hope you don’t mind, but I told him your house was broken into too.”
Mary Beth started to nod, and then she looked at Annie. “You don’t think that could have been Sanders, too, do you?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible.”
“But he came back to look at the clock after the break in. He looked pretty surprised to find out it wasn’t here.”
“I know. Maybe that was all just to make him look innocent.”
“I guess some thieving little weasels are good actors too.” Mary Beth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “At least it’s a fairly simple fix. He ought to be in jail before the week’s out.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple. There’s just no evidence.”
Mary Beth shook her head. “The police have ways of finding things out. He has to be involved somehow. Just wait and see.”
****
“Nothing at all?” Annie wasn’t surprised, but she was disappointed. “I was afraid of that.”
“As he told you, he was in New York City that day. Most of the week, really.” Mary Beth sighed and straightened one of the cozy armchairs in the middle of A Stitch in Time in preparation for that morning’s meeting of the Hook and Needle Club. “Plus, he voluntarily let the police search his shop and his house, and they found nothing.”
“That’s no surprise.”
“And the police even did what I suggested and made sure his hair was real.”