Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer Page 7

  Was he… asking her out?

  “Okay,” she replied hesitantly, and he smiled. Then she slapped her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, I can’t! I just remembered. I’m having lunch at my sister’s.”

  “Then another time,” he said, although he looked disappointed. She thought he looked disappointed. Did he look disappointed? She dragged her focus back to what he was saying. “Have you met her yet? Or are they still out of town?”

  “They’re out of town. They’ll be back tonight. I’m kind of nervous, and excited.”

  “Is she the only family you have?”

  “I have a mother.”

  He waited, but she said no more about that. She glanced back up at him.

  “How about you? Do you have family?” she asked.

  “My brother lives here, and his wife. Our parents live in Ashland. We have a sister too, she and her husband live in Ocotillo.”

  “Do you see your family a lot?”

  “I guess so, I never thought about it. What qualifies as a lot?”

  “Every day.”

  “Then no,” he smiled. “I see my brother and sister-in-law every week at church, and sometimes during the week. I see my parents every month or so, when they have everyone over. Ocotillo is about four hours away, so my sister and brother-in-law, not as much.”

  “I’m from Pine Bluff. Ocotillo isn’t far from there.”

  “Pine Bluff is huge compared to this. What do you think of the difference?”

  “I love it here,” Claire replied.

  “So do I. Ashland’s not far away, so it’s the best of both worlds. Peace and quiet at home, and lots to do in the city.”

  “That does work out nicely, but how weird about the destruction at the thrift store.”

  “Speaking of which, you wanted to drop by there,” he reminded her. He was finished eating, and it looked like she was too.

  “Yes! I do. Gina, I’m going to Juniper Creek Thrift with Alec.”

  “Oh, okay,” Gina replied. “I’ll see you back at work, then.”

  Claire and Alec said goodbye to the others, then followed the sidewalk toward the thrift store. She was surprised to see a couple of guys in front, installing a new doorframe.

  “Doesn’t it have a backdoor?” Claire wondered.

  “Yes. We’ll go around that way. Chris must be here, since they’re working on this one.”

  “Wait—I’d like to do something first,” she said, her eyes now fastened on the opposite side of the road.

  “Lead the way,” Alec replied. He followed her to the crosswalk and across to the other side of the street, then on to the computer and electronic repair shop.

  A chime sounded as the door opened, and the middle-aged guy behind the counter looked up.

  “Hi there, Alec. What can I do for you today?” he smiled pleasantly.

  “Hi, Jordan. This is Claire, she’s new in town. I’m just tagging along with her.”

  “Nice to meet you, Claire,” the guy greeted her. “What can I help you with?”

  What exactly could he help her with?

  “Hi, Jordan, it’s nice to meet you, too,” she jumped in. “I’m the new sorter for Lochlan Museum. Would you happen to know of a software that would be useful in cataloguing the donations made to the museum? Streamlining the process could be beneficial. I’m not looking to purchase today, I’m in the information-gathering stage.”

  That sounded pretty good. She felt a little proud of herself.

  Then, Jordan began to talk.

  Five minutes later, Claire’s brain was overloading. She didn’t think such software existed! Boy, was she wrong.

  “Do you have any advertisements, or links she could go to, and read more about these?” Alec asked. “We’ve both got to get back to work soon…”

  Claire shot him a grateful look.

  “Sure,” Jordan replied, and immediately began filling the page of a notebook with software names and web addresses.

  “It’s terrible what happened at Juniper Creek Thrift,” Claire commented as he wrote.

  “It is, just awful,” Jordan agreed.

  “I guess it makes you extra glad you’ve got a security system,” she added.

  “You can say that again,” Jordan said fervently.

  “Did your security camera pick up anything the police could use to determine who’s responsible?” she asked, and held her breath.

  Jordan’s pencil paused, and he considered that.

  “Probably not. They do know the man’s heavyset. He kicked in the door without any problem. But, he wore a hat, and it wasn’t the best image in the world, considering the thrift store is across the street. So, no. It won’t identify the man.”

  “Did he carry anything in with him? Or out?” she asked.

  “He didn’t carry anything in with him. And he didn’t come out.”

  “What?” Alec interjected, his eyebrows knitting. “What do you mean, he didn’t come out? He left through the backdoor?”

  “That’s the only other exit, so that’s my guess,” Jordan replied.

  “Did the video record movement inside the shop while the guy was in there? It does have a big front window,” Claire pointed out.

  “No… I’m afraid not. Just a flashlight beam moving around.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” she said, as he handed her the handwritten list. She folded it and put it inside her purse.

  “No problem. If you have any more software questions, let me know,” Jordan replied.

  “I will,” she assured him.

  She and Alec left the store, and followed the crosswalk to the other side of the street.

  “Nice sleuthing,” he said. He looked impressed.

  “Thanks,” she replied.

  “How in the world did you know they have a camera?” Alec asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Chances were good that they would,” Claire reasoned.

  “So by acting as though you knew it as fact, you had no trouble getting him to talk about it,” Alec said, and shook his head a little. “Very nice. Remind me not to take you on in any strategy games.”

  “Maybe I will. Or, maybe I won’t,” she smiled.

  Alec led the way around the sidewalk, and through a gap in the row of buildings. Claire looked curiously at the back of the shops as they walked along the alley.

  “How do you know which is the thrift store?” she wondered.

  “By counting the doors, and by knowing that this shop has two of them,” he replied.

  Claire stopped abruptly. Alec stopped and took a step back, wondering what she was looking at so intently.

  “This shop did have two of them,” she corrected him. The second door was hidden by a large sheet of plywood, bolted firmly to the side of the building. “Any idea when this happened? The wood looks new. It smells new. I’ll bet it is. That guy must’ve counted doors, and thought this one belonged to Juniper Creek Thrift. But why wasn’t this breakin on the newsfeed?”

  “I… don’t know,” Alec replied.

  “Unless, the shop owner decided to eliminate the second door before any of this happened! So the guy thought it was Juniper Creek Thrift’s door that was sealed, and he busted through the front because he believed it was the only way in. Then he found out Juniper Creek Thrift had a backdoor after all, and exited that way.”

  “You’ve got to be right,” Alec said, his excitement matching her own. “It explains why he took the risk of going in through the front entrance! Nice job, Nancy!”

  Claire laughed at that, and returned his high-five.

  They reached the backdoor of the thrift store, and Alec knocked. There was no response, so he took out his phone.

  “He’s here, I’m pretty sure. That’s his car right there… Hi, Chris? It’s Alec. Are you at work? Okay. That was me knocking. Claire Davis, Lochlan Museum’s sorter, needs to see you. She can’t get through to the office phone.”

  Alec returned his phone to his pocket as the bolt on the door slid b
ack, and it swung open.

  The guy on the other side was probably in his mid-thirties. There was dust on the knees of his jeans, and his t-shirt. His brown hair was mussed, and he looked exhausted. Behind him, the shop looked as though a bulldozer tore through it. Many of its shelves stood bare. Slivers and fragments of what was now mostly unrecognizable, lay in piles on the floor. A broom and dust pan leaned against one empty shelf, and a wheeled trash can stood beside them.

  “Chris, this is Claire. Claire, Chris.”

  “Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, as he ushered them inside. She looked around at the mayhem. There was so much destruction. And for what? “I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “Thanks, and I’m sorry for not answering,” Chris replied. “The office phone… is lost somewhere in all this mess.”

  “You need help cleaning this up,” Claire pointed out, and looked at Alec. “This is a charitable organization. They help people all the time…”

  “How about it, Chris?” Alec asked. “I can contact the church office, you’ll have volunteers out here within the hour.”

  “You think so?” Chris replied hopefully.

  “I’m positive. I’ll do that, while you and Claire talk.”

  While Alec sent several texts, Claire took her phone out of her pocket. With a few swipes, she brought up the photo of the loaded shelves waiting in the sorting area of the museum.

  “We’ve got your replacement product right here, and there’s more waiting to be sorted.”

  “Good,” Chris replied, and let out a deep breath. “There are people who rely on what this place brings in… I’ve been just sick, wondering how to make up for what we’ve lost in sales since Friday.”

  “You’ll make it up once the shop is back in business,” Alec predicted, as he returned to the conversation. “This is a small town. If people didn’t realize you needed help before, they do now.”

  “Thank you,” Chris said, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Cindy wanted me to ask for help. I guess I was just too proud, or something. I didn’t want to put anyone out. But this is great, if we can just get this stuff out of here, and bring in the donations from the museum—and it’s not quite as bad as it looks, not everything’s busted.”

  “Were items skipped at random, or are we talking entire categories?” Claire asked.

  “The toys weren’t touched. Kitchen appliances either. You’d think the furniture would be slashed, the way this guy went after everything else. But it wasn’t.”

  “So… it was mainly dishes?” she wondered, looking around.

  “Or ceramics, maybe,” Alec suggested. “Clock radios… and other small electronics. Office equipment, too.”

  “A lot of collectibles,” Claire commented, mentally piecing together some of the fragments.

  “Whatever would make the biggest mess,” Chris replied, brushing back his hair and letting out another deep breath. “But it’ll be okay. We’ll recover.”

  “Yes, you will,” Alec assured him. “I’ll come help out after I get Claire back to the museum.”

  “And I’ll continue sorting and direct pick-up, if you get to that point before the day’s over,” Claire added.

  “Great, thank you,” Chris replied gratefully. “I’ll get moving on the security installation, then. I’ll rest easier after that.”

  “Claire noticed the shop next door boarded up one of their back exits,” Alec commented. “Any idea when they did that?”

  “A couple of weeks ago, maybe. It could be a month. Mrs. Arnold was tired of the delivery guys going to the wrong door, then leaving before she had any idea they were there. She had a sign, but it didn’t seem to help.”

  “That explains it, then,” Alec said, exchanging a glance with Claire.

  A couple of people arrived to assist in cleanup, so Alec and Claire headed back to the museum.

  “You don’t have to walk me, you know,” she said, glancing at him sideways as they followed the tree-shaded sidewalk.

  “I’m not doing it because I have to,” he replied. “I wonder if the police noticed the blocked door, and put all that together?”

  “I’ve got no idea. It doesn’t make all that much difference, anyway. It’s not going to solve who did it, or why.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s cool how you figured it out. What do you deduce from the method to the madness in there?”

  “You mean the selective trashing?” Claire asked.

  “Yes, exactly that,” Alec replied.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s looking for something. He knows it’s hidden in some kind of electronic device, or a ceramic item or collectible. This wasn’t a rage-thing.”

  “What was he searching for, I wonder? And did he find it?”

  “I don’t know, but how much time he spent in there will tell us how systematic or otherwise he was in his search. Jordan has the answer to that, whether he realizes it or not. The recording showed the flashlight moving around. The guy was in there for at least as long as that was going on.”

  “Excellent thinking. I’ll ask Jordan on my way back to Juniper Creek Thrift. I’ll tell you what he says when you get off work. When is that, anyway?”

  “My hours are flexible. I plan to leave at five today,” Claire replied.

  “You’re on my way home. I can pick you up if you want, and save you from having to walk.”

  “I don’t mind walking,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “And I don’t mind picking you up.”

  “Well… okay, then,” she accepted, and he smiled.

  Alec saw her safely to the employees-only lot and inside the sorting area, then left.

  Claire set her purse aside, pulled her gloves back on, and got to work.

  For a little while, she pretended to be at a garage sale and skipped over the trash and donate-worthy items, and focused on hunting for antiques amongst the heavily piled tables. She felt a sense of satisfaction at seeing those shelves gradually fill. She didn’t make any jaw-dropping finds, not like she did yesterday when she found the ring in the trash, or the letters from World War Two. But by the time she heard a knock at the parking lot door, she felt more than satisfied with her day’s work.

  She collected her purse and headed toward the exit. She was practically there, when she heard a second knock on the door leading to the stairs. She swiped her ID and opened the exterior door, and motioned for Alec to come in.

  “I’ve got another knock,” she said, and headed for the other door.

  “Take your time,” Alec replied, looking around him… it could be in horror. The conglomeration of items was enough to overwhelm most people.

  Claire opened the stairway door, and found Tammy standing on the other side. She held a clipboard in her hand.

  “Hi, Tammy, come in,” Claire said, waving her arm wide.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” she smiled.

  “Have you met Alec? He’s my next-door neighbor,” Claire said.

  “Hi, Mrs. Smith,” Alec smiled.

  “Hello there, Alec,” Tammy replied. “Are you here to walk Claire home?”

  “I’m here to drive her home,” he answered.

  “Good,” Tammy said with satisfaction, and handed the clipboard to Claire. “Mr. Lochlan said to give you this. It’s Mark Reynolds’ resume, he’s starting Saturday.”

  “Oh, really?” Claire asked, scanning the page clipped to the board.

  “That’s right. He doesn’t have a lot of experience, but then again, we didn’t expect to find anyone who did,” Tammy pointed out.

  “I don’t recognize the name. Is he from around here?” Alec wondered.

  “It says here that Mark is an archaeology major,” Claire commented. “He’s a grad student at the college in Ashland… and on summer break, I guess.”

  “That’s right,” Tammy confirmed. “He’s living in Ashland. There’s not much of a commute.”

  “Still… why this? Why here?” Claire wondered, loo
king around.

  “All I know is, he’s got experience in cleaning up artifacts,” Tammy pointed out. “If he can do that, he can clean antiques and get them ready to put on display without doing damage to them.”

  “That’s great,” Claire decided.

  “What else do you know about him?” Alec asked. He looked a little concerned. Was he concerned?

  “He seems like a nice, respectful young man,” Tammy said. “His references are top-notch. And, he can start Saturday, as I said. Goodness knows, you need the help.”

  “This is great, but I’ve made an awful lot of headway since yesterday,” Claire pointed out.

  “And you’ve got another truckload from Ashland arriving tomorrow,” Tammy informed her. Claire’s eyebrows rose at that, and Tammy nodded. “And so, we’re getting you some help.”

  “Okay… the truck’s from Ashland, but where in Ashland? Is there a drop-off location for the museum there, or what?”

  “Some fellow moved into assisted living, has no children, and knows he can’t take it with him. Not into that little apartment, or beyond. He donated most of his estate.”

  “Wow, that’s so great of him,” Claire said in amazement. Her eyes began to sparkle with anticipation at the thought of what that truck might contain.

  “That’s the truth,” Tammy agreed, as Claire glanced over the resume again.

  “I’ll expect to see Mark on Saturday, then,” Claire said.

  “You don’t need to spend the whole day,” Tammy clarified, giving her and Alec an apologetic look. “Take the morning to get him oriented, then you and he can both have the rest of the day off. You won’t likely need to spend any more Saturdays working after this. Unless you want to.”

  “Alright,” Claire replied. “I’ll get Mark inducted, then plan on taking weekends off, after this. Unless I want to come in. And I might.”

  “You’re the right girl for this mess,” Tammy declared, shaking her head a little as she looked around at the mostly disorganized contents of the room.

  Tammy returned to the museum portion of the building, and Claire bolted the door to the stairs. She bolted the exterior door behind her and Alec, then he led the way to his truck. He opened the door for her, then took his place in the driver’s seat.