Doreen was the first to come into view, navigating around the various tables and standing shelves toward them. She wasn’t carrying anything obvious. Certainly not a jester’s hat.
The man stepped forward at Doreen’s approach, but Riley saw his shoulders slump when it was clear she wasn’t carrying the hat.
“Good afternoon,” Doreen greeted the man. “Welcome to Friday’s. You’re looking for a jester hat? A specific one, or will any one do?”
“A specific one,” the man said, his gaze narrowing.
Riley had sort of assumed Doreen would know the man, since he seemed to know who the Sinclair siblings were. But neither showed any hint that they recognized each other.
“My brother is going through our inventory. But maybe you can describe what you’re looking for to me. In case I missed anything in translation.”
Riley raised a brow at Doreen, who ignored the look, her full attention on the customer.
The man went on to describe the same jester’s hat he had for Riley. In fact, he described it in exactly the same wording. Exactly. Like he’d memorized the words and was repeating them verbatim.
“Crushed velvet, green and white, split into three points. Bells on the ends of each point.”
“Silver or gold bells?” Doreen asked.
The man blinked. Like he hadn’t expected that question. “Silver.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Doreen narrowed her eyes and clucked her tongue against her teeth. “I do think I’ve seen something like that in the back. Hopefully, my brother will locate it. Is there any other similar item that might suit as a substitute? I know we have a hat with four points in yellow, blue and green. It’s not exactly what you’re looking for but close.”
“No. It has to be this specific hat.” At Doreen’s raised brows, the man straightened and deployed the friendly, not creepy smile. “It’s for a collector. He has a lot of jester’s hats and is specific about this one for his collection. I check at any of the secondhand stores I come across.”
“I see.”
But Riley didn’t. She frowned at the man. He made it sound like he’d just wandered in here off the street and was just checking. But he’d known who the Sinclairs were. Earlier, he’d given the impression he knew exactly what specific store he was in.
While she wasn’t keen on seeing his creepy smile again, Riley sort of hoped he flashed it at Doreen, so Riley would know she wasn’t going crazy. Doreen was hard to freak out. She had a high tolerance for weird and strange. And…well, really strange.
Riley had vague memories of the day she came in to apply for this job and something strange happening with a customer but most of what had happened had faded away so all she really remembered now was a dust up that resulted in having to put the store back together over some item a customer had wanted but the Sinclairs weren’t prepared to sell to him.
At the time, though, Riley did remember thinking it was all pretty scary. Since then, she was convinced both the siblings were good at handling weird stuff, so she hadn’t thought much more about that first incident.
This particular customer fit into the weird category for Riley. She just couldn’t put her finger on why. If Doreen got the same vibe from him, at least Riley would know she wasn’t imagining things.
Except…
Maybe she was. Maybe that initial reaction to the man was pure imagination. A trick of light and shadow. Maybe it was being in the old toys section of the store. Maybe she’d imagined the man’s disturbing smile and the flash of light in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Doreen said suddenly with a bright smile of her own. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Thaddeus. Thaddeus Eckland.”
“Mr. Eckland.” Doreen gave a little head bob of acknowledgement. “And your friend’s name? If you don’t mind sharing.”
Eckland answered after a beat that was almost too short a pause for Riley to notice. “Jefferson. James Jefferson.”
“Excellent alliteration.”
“His father thought so.”
“Has he collected a lot of jester’s hats.” Doreen moved into the sort of stalling small talk that kept customers occupied during a wait.
Riley stood to one side, awkwardly wondering if she should leave or stay. She honestly didn’t want to leave Doreen alone with the man. Any more than she’d wanted to be alone with him herself. But there was really no reason for the both of them to hover around Mr. Eckland while they waited on Ian.
If there’d been other customers, Riley would have left to help someone else. As it was, Mr. Thaddeus Eckland was the only person in the store. So that was Riley’s excuse to stay. She did move a little away from the two and started rearranging a shelf with board games on it. The table where the games were stacked gave her a good view toward the back of the store, the direction Ian would be coming from.
She kept waiting for Eckland to tell Doreen about the hat’s supposed curse, or any of the stories he’d regaled Riley with. But he didn’t mention any of the magic and curse stuff. He talked about his friend having about a dozen of the jester’s hats in various sizes and shapes, and being very interested in this specific one for his collection.
“Not sure I’ve heard of this one before,” Doreen said. “Which is surprising. I would have thought, if it was special, it would have been something we’d heard of.”
Everything she’d just said sounded like a lie to Riley. Did it to the man?
Riley glanced at him closer. His eyes were a little narrowed, but not obviously. His gaze was intent on Doreen. But his expression didn’t otherwise give anything away.
“Perhaps you have to be very into jesters,” Eckland said with a shrug.
“Probably,” Doreen said. She pushed her glasses up as she held Eckland’s gaze. “I have heard of some very interesting marotte, thought to be lucky and/or owned by some of the more famous medieval court jesters.”
“Sounds interesting. I’m not the collector, though. My friend is. But I’ll ask him if he has any good stories.”
“Marotte?” Riley asked. Then sort of wished she hadn’t when both Doreen and Eckland swung their attention to her. She could have just waited and Googled it.
“The staff or stick that a jester carries as part of the costume,” Doreen said. “A prop.”
“It’s a comedic representation of a royal scepter,” Eckland added. “Often with a carved face or head at the top.”
“Sounds a little creepy.”
Eckland smiled faintly. “They can be.” He turned back to Doreen. “Do you have any interesting marotte on hand?”
“Nothing currently for sale,” Doreen said.
Very precisely said. Not that they didn’t have any. But that they weren’t selling any they might have. Interesting enough to peak Riley’s curiosity. Not interesting enough for her to ask the question in front of Mr. Eckland again.
“Shame.” Eckland spread his hands in a slight shrug. “But it’s really the hats that my friend collects. And he’s been looking for this particular hat for a long time.”
“And how did you get our names?”
Ah! Doreen finally asked one of the questions nagging at Riley.
Eckland raised his eyebrows and Doreen said, “We aren’t exactly Christy’s here and not known dealing for jester paraphernalia. I was just wondering how you happened on our place.” She smiled. “Helps with our advertising efforts to know what’s working.”
Advertising? Did they do advertising for this place? Riley hadn’t thought so. If they did, it seemed like it might be a waste of money since there were never that many customers in the place.
“Work acquaintance who’s local,” Eckland said. “I’m just in town for a conference. He recommended your store.”
“How very kind of him. Does he have a name? I’d like to thank him the next time he comes in. Word of mouth keeps small businesses like ours running.”
Eckland’s shoulders seemed to tighten, and two deep lines formed around his mouth as his lips compressed. “I only know him by a ridiculous nickname. Nothing you’d recognize.” Another shrug but this one all shoulders and jerky muscle movement.
“Fair enough.”
Doreen seemed like she might ask another question when sound from the direction of the checkout desk made her pause. She glanced over her shoulder. “That sounds like Ian. I wonder if he found anything.”
So did Riley.
She hoped the store made a sale even if she did find this customer creepy. Every sale was good and helped. At least, she thought they did. So few customers had to mean not a lot of money coming in. But the Sinclairs never seemed worried about money, or about the business making a profit. And Riley’s pay was always deposited on time.
Huh. She’d never really thought about that before. How the hell did the Sinclairs make enough money to stay in business?
She was disrupted from her musings by the second Sinclair sibling walking around the music box display case.
Carrying a green and white, crushed velvet jester’s hat.