Page 3 of Ink & Snow
“All right.”
Without being invited to do so, the sheriff stepped around me, opened a car door, and picked up two boxes, giving me an expectant look. He gave off a lot of red flags for unlawful searches here, but my feet were getting cold, and I decided to let it pass for now.
I stepped through flurries, fishing the key from my pocket. It had gotten tangled in an old gum wrapper, which fell out as I pulled out the key. I’d have ignored that normally, but with McArthur behind me, I decided not to risk it and picked it up before he put me in a cell for the night for littering.
As I crossed the sidewalk to get to the door, I looked around. The shop to the immediate right of mine was, of all the things, a tattoo parlor.Wicked Linesfeatured a glossy sign with white print on black. The lettering itself was clear, but next to the name, a rose had been made into a delicate, abstract piece of art. I couldn’t fault anything about it, could barely tear my eyes away from the design.
“You lost?” McArthur said from too close behind me.
The snow was doing things to me. I’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. At least McArthur didn’t throw expletives at me like people in the city might have.
“No, just taking everything in.”
“Right. Sure Elias will be by to offer you a tour bright ’n’ early I bet.”
He had to be baiting me at this point. He couldn’t possibly expect me to know who the fuck Elias was or to care. But I had been in interrogation rooms with objectively scarier cops, and they hadn’t fazed me. McArthur wasn’t going to either.
“Okay,” I said and finally made my way to the door.
As I turned the key, I noticed the former owner hadn’t taken down the mistletoe wreath that hung there, red ribbons winding around it. A dusting of white had collected on the shiny leaves, and I brushed some off automatically. The door swung open to blessed warmth and to a shop still mostly stocked. We’d arranged it that way. I took a quick look around, noticing a gift-wrapped box on the counter, which I ignored for now.
“You can just leave everything down here,” I told McArthur.
“You sure? It’s not a bother.”
“I insist. You’ve already been so helpful, Sheriff.”
“It’s Dwayne. And we’re a helpful bunch out here. Why don’t you take them upstairs and I carry them in? Should give you a chance to warm up a bit.”
I offered a lukewarm agreement. Truth be told, I didn’tnotlike the idea. I was fucking cold, and all I wanted was a warm bubble bath in my very own Cecil-free bathroom.
Chapter Two
Oncemycarwasunpacked and the sheriff, his beard, and his snowplow gone, I took a moment and inhaled the flower-scented aroma of the shop.
“This will be good,” I told the place, heading to the counter, and knocking on it. The wood resonated as if to confirm my proclamation.
The shop itself was much like in the photos. The antique register that sat on the counter was eye-catching, even bigger in real life than in the photos. On the wall opposite the counter, the former owner had kept the potted plants as well as shelves with produce from a local farmer she sold here for a cut of the proceeds.
On the table in the center, the finished bouquets would sit, while on the shelves that lined the rest of the place, artisanal soap and candles had their places alongside greeting cards, chocolates, and lots of other cutesy stuff people might need when they shopped for flowers. From what I had been told, the local high schoolers liked the modest selection of stationery right next to their flower-scented hand and lip balm.
My eyes caught on the snow globes, which I knew Fran, the previous owner, had made herself in her downtime. How she managed to have downtime while running a business, I had no idea, but I was going to have to learn the art of making landscapes in miniature, buy them elsewhere, or give up on them. I decided I’d see how the remaining stock sold before making a decision.
I walked over to them to get a closer look, and yes, more than one featured the town name. There wasClair de la Lune Pumpkin Festwith glittery snow and pumpkins next to pies and fall leaves.Clair de la Lune Winter Magicshowed the gazebo and the decked-out fir, some carolers, and when I shook it, stars glittered in the water.
“Saccharine.”
I turned and walked back to the counter, finally giving my full attention to the box. Stuck to it was a Post-it with a semi-cryptic message:Housewarming :)
No signature, nothing. Maybe former snowplow Ed or mysterious Elias or the sheriff-call-me-Dwayne had snuck in here with the movers yesterday to leave it. Fuck knew things so far had been weird enough to allow for the possibility.
I pulled the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, there was a chocolate cake, all glossy and inviting. On the frosting, in buttercream white, were the wordsWelcome to Clair de la Lune!
Okay. Was this the traditional greeting in town? Since it was a chocolate cake, I decided it really didn’t matter. You couldn’t refuse chocolate cake. It was a sacred cosmic rule, and I’d be damned if I broke it. I closed the lid and took the cake upstairs with me.
The stairs were at the back, on the left. On the right was the cool storage where Fran had said she’d put the flowers still in stock. Going by the excellent condition of the potted plants in the shop, I didn’t feel the need to check on those right now, not least because I was still cold and desperately needed that bubble bath.
The movers had sent me photos after they’d completed the job, showing they’d neatly arranged the majority of my boxes and the furniture, so when I arrived on the landing and opened the door, I expected to find everything in order. And it was. Except...
