The Gift of Grift Page 2

  Pam laughed, her brown bob shaking and then resettling back into perfect order. Ray wished his eyebrows would behave that well, but, then he’d never been professional and put-together the way Pam was. She even made her purple pantsuit look good.

  “Closed another big deal?” Ray teased.

  “Actually,” she said with a smile, “yes, I did.”

  “Congratulations!” As proud as Ray was of little Pammy’s success, Ray was happier still that she was almost single-handedly keeping the town alive, bringing in new blood and tax revenue. Of course, a little town like Dusky Cove wasn’t nearly enough to keep a real estate agent in business, and she worked all over the county, so Ray couldn’t really bet on her latest success bringing in new blood to the town, but couldn’t fault a man for hoping, could you? “Who’s the newest Dusky Covite?”

  “It was on Ocean Isle, I’m afraid.”

  Of course it was. “Beach rental?” Pam was also the best resource for finding those and keeping them busy.

  “Yes. I wanted to get them a gift to give to them with the keys, though.”

  “How did I guess?” Ray joked. That was the biggest reason Pam came in these days. So Ray really couldn’t complain about her success. “Beach-front vacation home?”

  “Third row, but yes.”

  Ray nodded, then pointed at the display along the far wall, closest to the entrance. “We’ve got some wonderful new décor items. Katie practically designed them herself.”

  “Then I know what I want,” Pam declared before she even turned around. Ray puffed out his chest a little. His wife was bed-bound, but still had a reputation for the best taste in the county, for those in the know.

  So maybe she did deserve all the credit for their successes.

  Pam picked up one of the buoys on display. “Are these them?” she called.

  “The very ones.” Ray rounded the counter and crossed the sales floor — once the living room when this bungalow was built — to help her. “We’ve got just about all of these designs in the back in navy, aqua and coral.” Or, as he would have called them without Katie’s influence, blue, green and orange.

  Pam nodded appreciatively, setting down one buoy and picking up the next. “Heavy,” she noted, hefting the buoy again. “Solid wood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ray realized he didn’t know whether real buoys were solid wood or hollow. Not that it really mattered, since these were purely decorative. “Katie recommends a few display options, by the way.” He gestured at the wall above the display, and Pam looked up. After his first customers left, he’d made a garland like the one he’d hung outside. On a pillar nearby, he’d hung a group of three, all strung together, as opposed to the neatly spaced garland. “We can also do custom colors if you need, but that can take a little longer.”

  “Closing is tomorrow, so I’ll stick to what you’ve got on hand.” Pam selected three buoys: one with navy and aqua stripes, one with a solid aqua body and narrow coral accent stripes, and one with a coral stripe and a white seashell decal. “What do you think of these together?”

  Obviously Katie’s opinion would be the one Pam really wanted, but he couldn’t exactly send customers — even old family friends — traipsing through his kitchen and upstairs to his wife’s bedroom. “They look wonderful.”

  Katie had been wise enough to design them to all work together, so he could say that with confidence, even if she might have suggested a slightly different combination. It was all the same to him, of course, but he took Katie’s word as gospel when it came to home décor.

  Pam admired her choices. “Hope they like them,” she murmured. Then she shrugged one shoulder. “If not, I guess they can sell them on eBay.”

  Ray laughed but cringed inwardly. Was he overprotective of his wife’s creation? Of course. Why wouldn’t he be? “I’m sure they’ll love them. I think our number one buyer is people decorating their beach home, so it seems like a sure bet.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Pam followed him to the checkout, selecting a couple locally made salt-water taffies from the basket on the counter. “Is business going well this winter?”

  “A little better than normal,” he had to admit. “The Mayweather House guests are keeping us pretty busy.” Lori across the street had done something new with her marketing and had been almost fully booked every weekend since September, with guests staying half the weekdays as well. He was lucky she’d mostly closed down the bed and breakfast while she was out of town, because he’d only have to handle one or two guests.

  Speaking of marketing, this was his opportunity to do the same. Ray rang up Pam’s purchase and ran her credit card. As he bagged up her buoys, he gathered his courage. He hadn’t stayed in business this long by being timid and waiting for customers to come to him. “You know, Lori keeps brochures for our shop in a binder in each of her guest rooms with other local attractions. Do your rental houses have something like that?”

  Pam thought a moment. “Some of them do, I think.”

  “Would you mind taking some brochures to put in them?”

  “Oh, sure! Y’all are my favorite little gift shop. So much better than those overpriced chains.” She rolled her eyes.

  Ray dug a stack of brochures out from under the counter. “Thanks so much, Pammy.”

  She smiled as if she were accepting a shared secret instead of just brochures. “You know you’re the only person who calls me that these days.”

  “Not even your parents?”

  “Not since I was a little girl.”

  Ray winked. “You’re still a little girl.”

  She laughed. “I’m in my fifties, Mr. Watson.”

  “But still not old enough to call me by my first name?” He raised both his eyebrows in teasing censure.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be old enough to consider you a peer,” she joked back. After a long pause, she added, “Ray.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  Pam pursed her lips and shook her head, a teasing smile still hiding in her eyes. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady,” Ray said with mock sternness.

  She laughed once again and turned away, her neat bob swishing around her neck. “Thanks again, Mr. — Ray!”

  Apparently, he’d always be a “grown up” to his daughter’s friends. Even that man who’d been in here earlier — what was his name?

  Pam might know. “Oh, Pammy, wait a second!”

  Halfway to the door, she turned back, her whole face alight with her unspoken question.

  “Do you remember a boy you and Mitch and Debra went to school with?”

  “Chip?”

  Ray shot her a sarcastic look. “Other than him.”

  “We had, like, fifty people in our graduating class,” she pointed out. “I don’t remember all of them.”

  Ray tapped his forehead, trying to conjure up some fact about that man from high school. “I think he was on the baseball team with Mitch?”

  Pam screwed up her lips. “Phil?”

  “No, he moved away after school.”

  She thought longer. “Patrick? Byron?”

  Ray shook his head, but that last name shook loose the memory. “Brian?” he tried.

  Pam sucked in a breath, all traces of a smile gone. “Brian McMurray? Why do you ask?”

  “Oh.” Ray waved a hand, trying to alleviate her concern. “He was just in town for Mitch’s wedding, and I saw him this morning.”

  “Well,” Pam almost huffed, “I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

  Before Ray could question her response, she spun on her heel and marched out the door, the bell clanging angrily behind her.

  What was that about?

  Ray scarcely had time to wonder before the door swung open again, ringing the bell with much less vehemence. A woman he didn’t know walked in. A tourist — a customer. Wonderful. “Welcome to Dusky Card and Gift!” Ray called.

  “Tha
nk you,” she replied absently, admiring the buoys.

  Once again, Ray took a moment to exult in Katie. She really was brilliant.

  The customer looked up. “These things are sixteen dollars?” she asked.

  “Yep.” He had to admit, that did seem a bit much for what was essentially a painted hunk of wood, but that hadn’t stopped people from snapping them up.

  “And you put five of them out front?”

  He nodded, although obviously she already knew the answer to the question since she’d seen them. “It’s kind of like a beach garland,” Ray said.

  “It’s kind of like an eighty-dollar larceny lure,” the woman cracked back. She softened her criticism with a smile and a laugh that was warmer than Ray would have expected.

  “Have you ever lived in a small town?” Ray asked. “As in really small?”

  “No, but I’ve passed through.”

  Ray nodded. “Do you know how it is? If anything happened to those buoys, some nosy neighbor would see what happened and word would get back to me.”

  The woman laughed. “So you’ve got a spy network, is what you’re saying?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Ray joked right back. “But . . .” He glanced around and leaned in as if he were sharing a secret with a friend, not a stranger standing all the way across the shop. “We’ve gotten pretty good at catching bad guys around these parts.”

  He cast a glance at the door. He could just see the back of the Mayweather House, home of their resident super sleuth. Lori had solved seven murders in two years, crime the likes of which they’d never known here in Dusky Cove. Well, one of them was in Boiling Spring Lakes, but that was beside the point. Ray was just glad he hadn’t been the one to get involved. Not that Lori had had a choice. And he didn’t envy her being blamed for a murder, either.

  Ray turned his attention back to his customer, who was still cringing. “I’ll have to be careful. Is this place that dangerous?”

  He laughed. “No, not at all. It’s just your average small town.”

  The woman’s shoulders dropped as though she were relieved. She smiled, and it was just as warm as her laugh had been. “I bet you know all the town’s secrets.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am.” He refrained from telling her which Front Street establishment was the local gossip hub. Nobody wanted to share the town’s dirty laundry with a stranger anyway. “I specialize in gifts, so I’m definitely only privy to happy news anyway.”

  “I see.” She started around the sales floor, admiring one item after another. The children’s T-shirts elicited a laugh with their “Everything’s better at Nana’s” and “I’m not spoiled, that’s just my diaper” humor.

  She picked up an orange — coral? — dried starfish and brought it to the counter. “You didn’t happen to have someone in earlier who lost something, did you?”

  That cute young lady’s diabetes monitor. “Oh, actually, yes. Did you find something?”

  “No, just wondering.”

  Seemed like a strange question to be wondering about. What were the odds?

  Ray held up the starfish. “Is this everything for you?”

  “Yes.”

  Ray rung up the starfish and accepted her cash. He wrapped the starfish in paper, then handed the wrapped starfish and change across the counter. The woman glanced over the bills. “You’re sure that’s the right change?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I double-checked.”

  She nodded, then smiled at him. Her eyes held the most warmth of all, like you’d expect from your mother or kindergarten teacher. Kindness embodied. “Well, thank you, sir.”

  “Have a wonderful afternoon.”

  The woman nodded as she turned away. At the last second, Ray could have sworn he saw her expression change to something more cynical.

  No. That couldn’t have been right. Not after the way she’d smiled at him, the kindness in her eyes.

  Ray only read a few pages in his book before the cowbell announced another customer. He looked up and found a familiar face again. “Well, Brian,” Ray said, glad for the opportunity to use what he’d finally remembered again. “How are you doing now? Anything I can help you with?”

  “I need a souvenir for my kids,” he said with a smile.

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place, that’s for sure. Kids’ favorites are our funny T-shirts, seashells and taffy.”

  Brian saluted him. “I’ll take a look around and see what catches my eye.”

  “Great,” Ray said. He settled back on his stool but didn’t turn back to his book. “How old are they?” he called.

  “Hm?” Brian looked up from the hermit crab display, then pointed at the oversized aquarium, as if asking Ray if he were referring to the crabs.

  “Your children.”

  “Oh, five and seven.”

  “That’s a great age,” Ray said. Although he had a hard time picturing Mitch with children that age.

  Then again, it wasn’t as though Brian’s biological clock prevented him from having children at this stage. Could be a second marriage. Could even be stepchildren.

  And none of that was Ray’s business. So he went back to minding his: the store. He took this chance to straighten a display of tote bags. Folding was the shop owner’s nemesis.

  Brian squeaked something, and Ray glanced at him. He held a toy starfish, a dog’s squeaky toy. “Oh, those are our pet items,” Ray said.

  “Ah. We have a Dalmatian, too.”

  In the back of his mind, Ray distantly remembered hearing that breed wasn’t good with children. But then, who knew? You could probably find a sweet Dalmatian the same way you could find a nasty retriever.

  Brian started to return the squeaky toy to its display box, but the toy fell short, bouncing on the floorboards.

  “I’ll get that,” Ray offered, silently hoping Brian wouldn’t take him up on it. Getting down on the floor was probably his real nemesis.

  “Oh, that’s all right,” Brian said, already on his hands and knees.

  Ray tried to hide his relief. He just wasn’t made for getting up and down anymore.

  “Hey.” Brian climbed to his feet again, holding both the squeaky starfish and a small, plastic box. “Did you lose this?”

  Ray peered at the little box, but that didn’t help him figure it out. “No.” Could it be what Judy had lost? “Do you know if it’s a diabetes monitor?”

  Brian flipped it over, examining each side carefully. “I don’t know. Let me see.” He pulled out an expensive, fancy phone and tapped on its touch screen. “Oh, yeah. How’d you know?”

  “Young lady was in here earlier and said she lost it.” Ray led the way to the counter and pulled out the notepad where Judy had written down her contact information. He handed it to Brian.

  Brian read the note and his eyes grew wide. “A three-hundred-dollar reward?” He glanced at Ray again. “Are you sure you’re all right with me taking that?”

  Ray shrugged. “You found it.”

  “Yes, but it’s your shop.”

  “But you deserve the reward.”

  Brian pressed his lips together, contemplating the plastic monitor, the note, the monitor again. “I dunno. Maybe I could get more for it on eBay.”

  That website again. And that would leave Judy high and dry. Ray frowned. “You need to return it to Judy.”

  Brian looked torn. He consulted his fancy phone again. “Says here I could get five hundred dollars for it on eBay.”

  “It’s not a toy you found,” Ray said, his voice as firm as if Brian were his own wayward son. “It’s a life-saving medical device, and a real person needs it back. You’re risking her life for two hundred dollars.”

  “Well,” Brian said, growing a little huffy. “If it’s that important to you, I can sell it to you for . . . two hundred.”

  Ray drew his eyebrows together. “Why wouldn’t you just take it to Judy? Or I can give it to her.”

  “I’m in a hurry to get home. Seriously, it’s this or eBay.�
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  That was it. Ray picked up his phone behind the counter. Brian’s parents were gone, but didn’t his mother’s sister still live out in Hinckley? “Either you call the phone number on that notepad right now, or I’m calling your Aunt Rita.” Ray tilted his chin down to give Brian the eye. “Or the police. Your choice.”

  Brian muttered something under his breath but dialed the number.

  “Show me.”

  Brian turned both his phone and the notepad to Ray. The numbers matched. “Happy?”

  “Yes.”

  Brian held the phone up to his ear. “Hello, is this Judy? . . . I found your device. I’m in a hurry though. Where can I meet you?” Brian grabbed a pen and ripped the top page off the notepad to take down the address. “Okay, I’ll be there in five.” He waved to Ray on his way out.

  Once again, Ray settled onto his stool behind the counter. He actually did get to finish his chapter before the next clang sounded. But this time, it wasn’t the door — it was something upstairs.

  Ray hurried as fast as he could through the kitchen, up the stairs and down the hall to Katie’s room. The big hospital bed dominated the space, but at least Katie seemed all right at first glance, her face serene, her fine, white hair perfectly arranged around her head and shoulders. “What was that sound?” Ray asked.

  “Knocked my glass over. Sorry, dear.” She offered a weak smile.

  Katie’s hands were strong enough almost all the time, but if that was changing, that was a concern. “Did you lose your grip?”

  “No, just must not have set it all the way on the table.”

  “Ah.” He still didn’t quite trust that. Early on in her illness, when they’d thought it was something as simple as Guillain-Barré syndrome, she’d been nearly paralyzed. Since then, luck or treatments had given her most of the use of her hands and a little mobility in her legs, as long as she didn’t overexert herself.

  But if her body was attacking her nerves again, that could easily show up as muscle weakness or pain.

  Katie didn’t seem to be hurting, however. Ray stooped down — yes, that was definitely his nemesis — and retrieved the fallen cup. The carpet had kept it from breaking, and it looked as though nothing had spilled. “Good thing it was empty.”