“Hmm.” Marilee took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. “I’m not sure which is more disconcerting. Five missing women or fathers arming their teenage daughters with pistols.”
Everyone in Cleary was nervous about the disappearances. People were locking doors that previously had gone unlatched. Women of all ages were warned to be aware of their surroundings when they were out alone and to avoid dark and isolated places. They were advised to trust no one they didn’t know well. Since Millicent’s disappearance, it had been suggested that husbands and boyfriends meet their partners at their workplaces at the end of the day to escort them home.
“I can’t rightly blame them though,” Linda said, lowering her voice. “You mark my words, Marilee. That Gunn girl is as good as dead if she ain’t already.”
It was pessimistic to think that way, but Marilee was prone to agree. “When are you leaving for home, Linda?”
“Whenever that slave-driving brother of yours says I can go.”
“Maybe I can influence him to let you off early.”
“Ain’t likely. We been doin’ a land-office business all afternoon. People figurin’ it’ll be days before they can get out again.”
A drugstore had occupied the corner of Main and Hemlock streets for as long as Marilee could remember. When she was a little girl and the family had come into town, she’d always looked forward to stopping here.
William must have had fond memories of it too, because as soon as he graduated from pharmaceutical school, he’d returned to Cleary and started working here. When his employer decided to retire, William bought the business from him, then immediately borrowed money from the bank for expansion.
He bought the vacant building next door and incorporated it into the existing store, enlarging Linda’s work space and adding booths to increase the soda fountain’s capacity. He’d also had the foresight to set aside room for video rentals. In addition to the pharmacy, he had the most extensive stock of paperback books and magazines in town. Women shopped here for their cosmetics and greeting cards. Men bought tobacco products. Everyone came to catch up on local gossip. If Cleary had an epicenter, it was Ritt’s Drug Store.
Along with prescriptions, William dispensed advice, compliments, congratulations, or condolences, whatever his customers’ situations called for. Although Marilee thought the white lab coat he wore in the store was a bit pretentious, his customers seemed not to mind.
Of course there were those who speculated on why both he and Marilee had remained single and continued to share a home. People thought that much togetherness between brother and sister was strange. Or worse. She tried not to let people who entertained dirty thoughts like that bother her.
The bell above the entrance jangled again. She didn’t turn this time but looked into the mirrored wall behind Linda’s workstation and saw Wes Hamer come in with
his son, Scott.
Linda called out to them. “Hey, Wes, Scott, how’re y’all?”
Wes returned her greeting, but it was Marilee with whom he was making eye contact in the mirror. He sauntered over, leaned close over her shoulder, and took a whiff of the cocoa. “Damn, that smells good. I’ll take one of those, too, Linda. It’s a hot cocoa kind of day.”
“Hello, Wes. Scott,” Marilee said.
Scott acknowledged her with a mumbled “Miss Ritt.”
Wes sat down on the stool beside her. His knee nudged hers as he slid his legs beneath the counter. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.”
“You ought not to be cussin’, Wes Hamer,” Linda said. “You being a role model for kids and all.”
“What did I say?”
“You said ‘damn.’ ”
“When did you get to be so prissy? I remember a time or two you letting fly with a cussword.”
She snorted, but she was grinning. Wes had that effect on women.
“You want some cocoa too, hon?” Linda asked Scott, who was standing behind his father, hunched inside his coat, hands in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Sure. Thanks. That’d be great.”
“No whipped cream on his,” Wes said. “He won’t win any points with football scouts if he’s got a gut on him.”
“I don’t think he’s in danger of getting a gut anytime soon,” Linda said. But she left off the whipped cream. Wes had that effect on people, too.
He turned on his stool so that he was facing Marilee. “How’s Scott coming with American lit?”
“Very well. He made eighty-two on the test over Hawthorne.”