"Yes," I interrupted, smiling when I heard a certain sound from next door. "Let's see what Mr. Shepherd has to say. How about right now?"
I walked over to the connecting door to Jack's office and opened it, and a quarter ton of Bengal tiger prowled into my shop.
Jack walked toward Craven, lashing his tail, and the UltraShopMart rep's face turned so pale I was almost afraid he'd faint.
"Jack isn't interested in selling, either," I said.
Craven had more guts than his name would suggest, though, because he tried one last time. He looked at Jack. "Does she speak for you?"
Jack opened his powerful jaws and showed the man his teeth.
Jack had really,reallyscary teeth.
"You should take that as a yes," I said, but Craven was already shoving his way out the door.
Seconds later, we heard tires squeal as he raced out of the parking lot, and I started laughing. Just after Jack turned back to human, though, the door opened again, and a tense woman in her forties or fifties whom I'd never seen before walked in, carrying a box.
Thankfully, the magic of Jack's shapeshift meant he pulled his clothes into it with him. It would be highly inconvenient for him to wind up naked every time he turned back to human.
I grinned at the thought. Okay, I wouldn'thateit, but, yeah, inconvenient.
"I need to sell you this clock," she declared, marching forward, placing the box on the counter, and pulling out a beautifully carved cuckoo clock.
"Oh, it's beautiful! And old. Where did you get it?"
She shrugged. "My family has had it forever. My grandfather was originally from Germany, so probably there."
I ran a finger over the wood case, which was carved with stylized birds, wolves, and foxes. "This is Lindenwood, so it's original to the Black Forest," I mused, then looked up to see both of them staring at me.
"I've worked in a pawnshop since I was a teenager. I know stuff," I said, shrugging. "And this is just gorgeous. Are you sure you want to sell it? If it's a family heirloom—"
"Yes," she snapped. "I want to sell it."
That was rude. But some people were embarrassed to have to sell their possessions, and it could lead to anger. I'd seen it before and had a lot of sympathy and patience with it, learned at Jeremiah's side.
"You could pawn it and come back when—"
"No! Do you want to buy it or not?"
I really, really did. But I needed to check it out first.
"Does it work? The gears—"
"Yes, it works," she interrupted again. "In fact, it's nearly eleven o'clock, so you'll see."
She stood back, looked down at her watch, and sighed. "And here you go. The compliment clock in action. Three, two, one—"
The tiny, perfectly carved cuckoo popped out of its little door, made a bobbing motion, spread its wings, and opened its mouth. But instead of the traditional cuckoo sound, it started talking.
"You are so beautiful today!Cuckoo!"
I blinked, and then what the woman had said struck me.
"The compliment clock?"
She threw her hands in the air. "Yes! All it does is compliment the owner. All day long. Every hour. It's great at first. For the first few months, even. But after five years of it, I'm ready to smash it with a baseball bat."
Jack wandered over and looked at it. "That doesn't sound so bad," he said cautiously.
