Page 27 of Killing Time

“No, I’m not sure I want to play with fire quite that much. But at least we know something about one of the Wilcoxes, and maybe after breakfast we can think of a few things to ask the man at the newsstand…as long as we’re not too obvious about what we’re up to.”

Seth had to agree that was probably a good plan. It seemed fairly clear to him that whoever the Wilcox warlock was, he dropped by that newsstand regularly on his way to work.

Which would seem to indicate that he must live somewhere around here, but that still didn’t narrow things down too much. Even the old neighborhood where Jeremiah and his siblings had once resided was within walking distance of the spot where he and Devynn now strode along the sidewalk, so that meant therewas a fairly large area where the Wilcox warlock might have his house or apartment.

Still, they had one small piece of information they hadn’t possessed only a few minutes earlier, and Seth had to take that as a good sign.

“Absolutely,” he said. “But first, breakfast.”

7

PUBLIC HOUSING

The 1940s incarnationof the diner was very different from its current form as a sort of hipster coffee house where a lot of students from Northern Pines liked to hang out, but the exposed brick walls were the same, as were the tall windows that overlooked Aspen Street and showed the bare branches of the elms in the open space across the way. Because we’d come a little later than most of the breakfast crowd, who I assumed would be grabbing something on the way to work, we got one of the prime tables near those windows.

The redhead who’d seated us seemed to be taking on both hostess and waitress duties, and asked us if we wanted coffee while we looked over our menus.

Coffee sounded heavenly. I knew I’d need some caffeine to speed up my synapses and help me figure out the best way to approach the man at the newsstand.

Seth and I both placed our drink orders and picked up our menus. I’d already decided that I wanted pancakes — it was heavenly not having to worry about what kind of food I could fit in my corset — and probably a side of bacon, just so I could have a little protein with my meal.

The coffee came, and we ordered our food, and once the waitress was gone, I said, “I think maybe I should talk to the newsstand guy on my own.”

Although Seth didn’t exactly frown, I could tell he wasn’t too keen on that idea. “Why?”

I stirred some cream and just the slightest smidge of sugar into my coffee. “Because I’m pretty sure most men in this time aren’t going to be nearly as suspicious of a single woman approaching them about a man as they would the two of us asking questions.”

He picked up his coffee and blew on it, expression thoughtful. “You’re probably right. So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to tell the guy at the newsstand that I saw the Wilcox warlock drop one of his cufflinks on the sidewalk, but by the time I’d picked it up and went to follow him, he’d already hurried off. Then I’ll try to get a name and place of business out of him. We already know where he works, but the man at the newsstand doesn’t have to know that.”

Again, Seth was quiet for a second or two. “What if he asks you to give him the cufflink so he can give it to Mr. Wilcox? It seemed obvious to me that they know each other pretty well.”

I’d already thought of that snag. “I’ll have a cufflink because you’ll have given me one of yours.”

It seemed to me Seth had anticipated that I might ask him to make that sacrifice. “So, I’m supposed to wander around cufflink-less all day?”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “You’ll live. Besides, we passed plenty of jewelry stores yesterday. I’m sure we’ll be able to get you some replacements at one of them if we have to.”

He sipped some of his coffee. “All right. That should work.”

Our food came not too soon after that, and we settled down to eat breakfast, both of us probably all too aware of how time was passing. I didn’t have any reason to believe the newsstandguy wasn’t there all day, but what if he packed it in after the morning rush was over?

But because the diner was the kind of place where people weren’t exactly expected to linger, we were done and out the door in less than twenty minutes, me with my lipstick refreshed so I could do my best to charm the newsstand owner into handing over whatever information he might possess regarding the Wilcox warlock we’d spied earlier.

And the newsstand operator was still there, although I noticed he’d tidied up the small stacks of the morning papers that remained, a signal that maybe he was going to pack it in and, if not, take off for the rest of the day, at least leave for a bit so he could get an early lunch. I had no idea when he’d started work, but I’d read that back in the day when real newspapers were still a thing, the people who delivered them were up before the crack of dawn.

The man at the newsstand sent me a pleasant smile as I approached. Up close, he looked like he was maybe in his early forties, fair-haired, with the kind of skin that turned ruddy from exposure to the sun rather than becoming tanned.

“Can I help you, miss?”

I summoned my best smile, very glad that I’d taken the time to curl my hair that morning and make myself look every inch like someone who very much belonged in 1947. “Oh, I hope so,” I said. “I was walking along the street a while back and noticed the man who’d been walking in front of me dropped his cufflink. I would have given it to him right away, but I was already late for a breakfast date and couldn’t make the time.”

If the newsstand operator thought my story at all implausible, he showed no indication of it. “I’ll try to help if I can. I see most everyone who comes along this way. Can you describe the man who dropped the cufflink?”

“He was very tall,” I said, lifting one hand to indicate a height much greater than my own — and a good five or six inches more than the man at the newsstand, who wasn’t too much taller than I was. “And he had dark brown hair and was wearing a charcoal gray suit with pinstripes.”

The newsstand operator nodded at once. “Oh, that would have been Mr. Wilcox — Adam Wilcox. He works at the Northern Lumber company, which is just over on San Francisco Street.”

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