“Do you think we can save some of the photographs?” Trey asked a little while later. We were still working in the front of the café, sweeping up the final pile of mangled frames and broken glass. We’d already removed the prints from their broken frames and laid them out on the tables. Most were so crumpled and torn that they were unsalvageable.
“At least they’re only photographs,” I commented, and then shook my head. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that the only things really lost are the mats and frames. The photos can be reprinted.” I shuddered to think if this had been an exhibition of original watercolors or sketches—the artist’s vision and talent lost forever.
I stacked the prints and stashed them under the counter so Makayla could contact the artists later, then joined Trey in cleaning up the piles of overturned coffee beans. Before long, we had everything nearly back in order. We were sweeping away the last bit of coffee grounds when a knock on the front door interrupted us.
“Customers are already here,” Trey said, a note of panic in his tone. I ducked into the kitchen to let Makayla know.
She came right out and opened the door, with her usual cheerful smile. “Good morning. Sorry about that. Come on in. I’m just a little slow opening up this morning.”
Another customer, then another, shuffled in, leaving little puddles of melted snow on a path to the counter. Soon the whole place was crawling with people ordering their morning caffeine fix. A few people commented about the missing artwork, but other than that, nobody seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary in the shop.
Trey stayed behind the counter, and he and Makayla worked in tandem to take care of customers. Since they had lost so many supplies, they had to make a few order adjustments here and there, but overall things were going smoothly. So, after double-checking to make sure Jay had things under control in the kitchen, I put on my coat and left quietly to head up to work.
But once outside, I hesitated. It was only a little after eight o’clock. I usually didn’t show up at the office until nine, so there was a little over forty-five minutes to spare. Just enough time to head over to the pet shop and pay Matt Reynolds a visit.
*
MATT LOOKED UP from stocking his lower shelves with bulk-sized bags of various shapes of kibble. “Good morning, Lila. You’re here early.” As soon as I told him about Makayla’s shop being vandalized, he stopped working and stood up, peering toward the window. “That’s terrible. Who would do something like that?”
“The cops seemed to think it was kids. Guess there’s been quite a few incidents like this in Dunston lately. They think it’s moving to our area.”
Matt scratched his early-morning stubble of a beard. “That’s all we need. We moved to this area because we thought it was a quiet community. Seems there’s been a lot of crime lately.”
“You mean Chuck Richards’s murder?”
He shook his head and squatted down to finish unpacking the box. “Yeah, I read about that in the paper. Can’t say I’m surprised.” I must have had a shocked look on my face, because he immediately started backtracking. “Oh, heck. I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded. No one deserves something like that. Forget I said anything, okay? It’s just that I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
“You mean with losing the aquarium and everything?”
“Yeah, that was a huge hit. The tank and the equipment were covered on my insurance plan, but not the fish. Or the damage caused by the water.” He sighed and shook his head. “Running a small business is difficult these days. There’s not a lot of margin for error. And that Richards guy?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I hired him to do a few things around here. He came cheap. Now I know why.”
“What do you mean?”
“Follow me.” We were working our way through the aisle toward the back of the store when he said, “By the way, how’s Olive doing? Giving Bentley fits?”
I chuckled. “Well, you were right. She’s a handful. Seems to have a calming effect on Bentley, though. You know how high-strung she can be.”
“Dogs do that for people, you know? That’s why they’re used so much in hospital therapy.”
“I believe it. I’ve never seen my boss this content before.” Of course, I couldn’t say the same for Vicky and Eliot.
We’d reached the puppy area, where a couple of yellow Lab pups were frolicking in the pen, rolling around together in a cartwheel of paws and ears. Unable to resist, I paused to watch their play.
“Aren’t they cute?” Matt asked. He reached in and picked one up. “This little girl is Ethel. The other’s Lucille. They’re sisters.”
“Lucy and Ethel? I love their names.” I bent down and ran my fingers along a tuft of downy-soft fur under Ethel’s ears. “They’re so sweet.”
“Aren’t they? Seeing them now, it’s hard to believe all they’ve been through.”