“Oh, it’s always something,” I huffed, tossing my purse on the counter.
For a moment, I considered leaving it for the morning, but trash didn’t take long to stink up a room. After stuffing the small plastic bags into the larger black one in the break room, I gathered up the rest in the bathroom. Mel and I tried to keep it clean, but sometimes people left a mess or threw out food they had brought in with them. Once I tied off the bag, I headed to the back door and shouldered it open.
Our trash bin was in the alley just to the right of the door, lit by a caged bulb affixed to the building. While every shopkeeper had a dumpster assigned to them, sometimes the delis behind us got overloaded, and they snuck over and used ours. I hated that because it stank up the back of our store. I hurled the bags through the opening and stilled when I heard a loud crash.
That was close.
The thought crossed my mind that there might have been a serious accident out front, so I dashed inside to see if I could help. When I circled the counter and ran toward the front door, I skidded on something hard and caught myself on a rack before falling. The floor twinkled, drawing my attention. As I looked closer, I realized pieces of glass were scattered across the room. I swung my gaze up to a massive hole in the right-hand window, large shards hanging precariously from the top.
There were no men outside swinging at each other, nor were there signs that a car had jumped the curb. Too stunned to come up with any ideas, I was drifting toward the wall when something caught my eye. Glass crunched beneath my feet as I moved closer and stared down at a black bowling ball.
I sighed at the mess. “Can’t you kids find something better to do on the weekend? Pizza? A movie? A slumber party? Not destroying someone’s property?”
As if the humans weren’t bad enough, it was a common rite of passage among young Shifter males to initiate asinine dares. They usually did it after their first change, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to do something extreme.
I turned on the dimmer lights and surveyed the damage. Our poor mannequin. It looked like someone had thrown her to the ground and beat her with her own arm. Even worse, tiny pieces of glass sparkled against folded clothes on one of the freestanding shelves. No sense in worrying about damages. I needed to fix the window first and foremost.
I hurried to the counter and searched through our address book. One of Mel’s aunts had given us a list of Breed repairmen in case of an emergency. They didn’t have set working hours, which made them some of the best.
I cleared my throat. “Hi, is this Mr. Mo Franklin?”
“It is,” the man replied, a TV blaring in the background.
“My name is Hope Church, and I’m the co-owner of a shop on Starlight Road.”
“Moonbeam? Yeah, I know it,” he said, his Texas drawl unhurried and friendly.
“Moonglow, actually. Someone referred you, and I have a situation.”
He sniffed and turned down the TV. “Gimme the details.”
“Our front window is broken.”
I could hear him grumbling as he must have been sitting up from a lying down position. “What are the measurements?”
I rummaged through our drawer until I found a small book with miscellaneous notes. I gave him the information. “I’m not sure what to do. I have all this merchandise and can’t leave the store open like it is. Do you think you can board it up or something?”
“If it comes to that, I can. But let’s see if we can’t find you a window replacement first. I’ll need to send one of my boys to the warehouse to check the inventory. I think I had an order for that place years ago, but most of the stores along the strip are standard. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours to find a match. As long as we have the window, I can repair it by the morning. For an extra fee, I’ll send one of my boys out to guard your store if you need to go home. Otherwise, your merchandise is open to the public.”
Something outside caught my attention. “That sounds great, Mr. Franklin. I really appreciate your doing this on short notice. I thought I was going to have to hang a tarp over it for the next two weeks.”
He chuckled. “No, y’all don’t have to worry. We run a tight ship, and since our clients are limited to Breed, we can usually swing emergency calls. Don’t worry about cleaning up; we’ll do that. Just move your merchandise away from the window.”
“Perfect.”
“You want to pay extra for the guard? My son can be there in ten minutes. Maybe less.”
It seemed like a sound idea. “Yes, please.”
“Joe’s a bear, so you’re in good hands. He drives a red truck.”
As soon as Mo hung up, I sent a message to Melody’s aunt and told her she was off the hook for coming in on Sunday. I didn’t give her details, only that I had business matters to attend to and had decided it was a better idea to close the shop. She replied to call if I changed my mind, but Naya led a busy life and shouldn’t have been our backup in the first place.
I dragged a small display shelf to the center of the store and then moved a few racks away from the window. Just when I set the mannequin down by the counter, an odd noise made me spin on my heel. “Hello?”
I dropped the mannequin’s broken arm and grabbed my keys, the small canister of mace dangling from one of the rings. Deciding not to make the suicidal move of poking my head through the hole in the glass, I opened the front door and peered outside. Two lovebirds were sharing a cigarette across the street and down a ways, but other than that, not a soul in sight.
There it was again!
