The Key in the Attic(36)
A touch of a smile tugged at the corner of Mary Beth’s mouth. “They’re awfully cute.”
“And you’d get half the retail price in commissions. What do you say?”
“I don’t know.” Mary Beth glanced at Annie.
“What would it hurt to try?” Annie toyed with the bracelet Mary Beth still held, running her finger lightly under the dangling charms, making them dance. “I’ll be your first customer.”
Mary Beth closed her hand, and the dancing stopped. “No, really, I can’t. I don’t have time for this kind of thing. I don’t want to be a Princessa rep or a rep for anybody. I don’t want to sign up for anything or take training or go to meetings or—”
“No, no.” Alice waived one hand to stop her. “You don’t have to do any of that. I’ll be the rep. I’ll take care of the paperwork and ordering the merchandise and everything else. All you have to do is let these sit on your counter here—right where all the good little impulse items go—and sell themselves. You take half the money, and I send the rest to the company. Now what could be easier than that?”
Again Mary Beth glanced at Annie.
“Sounds like a great deal to me,” Annie said.
Alice held up another Princessa box, this one smaller than the one that had held the bracelet, and gave it a little rattling shake. “They have matching earrings.”
“Oh, all right!” Mary Beth held up her hands in surrender as the bell on the front door jingled again, and Peggy and Gwen came into the shop. “I’ll give them a week.”
“Give what a week?” Gwen asked as she put her knitting bag in her usual chair.
“Oooh, I love these. Look at the little tape measure.” Peggy took the bracelet and draped it across her wrist. “Are you selling them, Alice?”
Alice shook her head. “Mary Beth is. Aren’t they too cute? You know, Wally should get you one for your birthday next month.”
“Good idea.” Peggy admired the bracelet for a moment more and then passed it to Gwen. “I’ll tell him to surprise me.”
“Pretty,” Gwen said, handing it back to Mary Beth. “But I’m dying to know more about your clock. I heard it was stolen from the repair shop. What did the police say? When do you have to go to court?”
“Looks like never, I’m afraid. The police released him after questioning because they have no evidence.”
Mary Beth sat down in one of the cozy chairs, and the others joined her, Alice and Gwen and Peggy talking over each other, expressing varying degrees of surprise and outrage, and asking what had happened. By the time Mary Beth had explained the situation to them, they all had their projects out and had started working.
“Oh, but your beautiful clock!” Peggy pulled a length of red thread from her spool and snipped it off. “What are you going to do, Mary Beth?”
“I don’t guess there’s much I can do. Annie and I were talking about this before Alice came in. Whoever picked up the clock must have known my name and Annie’s, and that the clock was at that particular shop.”
“I don’t know who that could be if it wasn’t this Frank Sanders person.” Alice squinted at the piece of pale blue linen she was cross-stitching, counting threads until she found the right place to start her next color. “But how did he know about the shop?”
“He definitely wasn’t the one who picked up the clock,” Mary Beth told her. “The police even checked that he really does have his own hair. The guy who took the clock was nearly bald.”
“Frank Sanders would be too,” Annie said, “if Mary Beth had her way.”
Again the bell on the door jingled, and Stella came in.
“Sorry I’m a bit late. Jason had taken something apart in the engine, and it took him a little longer than he thought to get it running again so he could drive me here. What have I missed?”
Gwen sighed. “Mary Beth was just telling us that the police can’t do anything about getting her clock back.”
“I was afraid that might happen. It’s a pity, Mary Beth, dear, and I’m sorry, but I’m not surprised.” Stella sank into a chair and took her knitting from her bag. “It’s not like they can post an officer to watch every petty thief twenty-four hours a day.”
Alice squinted at her pattern and then took another stitch. “I wish there was something we could do. Some way we could make him tell us where the clock is. He must have it hidden somewhere.”
“Well, he’s not likely to just tell us if we ask nicely.” Annie thought for a moment. “There has to be some way to make him show us where it is.”