Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was a tense ride back to town, not only because of Ben's dark words and Ferox's crazy driving. The storm Ben and Deor had warned me about now hovered over the horizon as we rolled back into town. The locals also took the hint as they hurried to and fro to finish their chores. Ben drove us to a southern backstreet to a large general store that covered half a block. The rest of the neighborhood was occupied by a stable some hundred feet wide and as deep as the store. They were separated by a wide private road with a gate that led to the main entrance. There was also a side door in the wall of the grocery opposite the livery.

The main building had the same timber-and-stone look as the rest of the buildings and featured an extensive upper floor with small balconies that looked out over the street. They had wrought-iron railings and long curtains hid the interiors. A large sign stretched across the front above the large doors that allowed entrance and read ‘Feormere's Foods.'

"Wow," I breathed as Ben helped me down from the carriage. "This place must do good business."

"Feormere does half the merchant business for the surrounding area," Ben explained as he nodded up at one of the nearby balconies. "And his upstairs suites are second to none in quality for weary and wealthy travelers."

One of the balconies caught my attention. The curtains fluttered a little as though someone had retreated into the room.

Ben's whispered voice made me jump. "What is it?"

I shook my head. "I swear somebody was peeking out from one of the rooms."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Which one?"

I nodded at the suspicious curtains. "That one."

Ben followed my gaze and pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

I cocked my head to one side and studied him. "Shouldn't I be?"

"That's the Emperor's Quarters."

"So?"

"Feormere keeps that suite open only for the highest paying customers, namely, those of royal lineage."

"Hence the name," I finished for him as I examined the curtains again. "Maybe they're just cleaning it up?"

"Maybe," was Ben's inconclusive answer as he looped an arm around my shoulders. "But we should hurry before the rain starts."

We followed a steady stream of people into the grocery, all eager to finish their shopping ahead of the rain. The store was laid out with wide aisles and shelving short enough that even I could reach everything. Barrels littered the end caps and were filled with every conceivable item one could imagine. Everything from pickles to candies to linen wrapping could be found inside the wooden containers.

A long counter at the front of the store had a dozen different cashiers ringing up the purchases. Ben walked over to one of the cashiers who had just finished helping a customer and smiled at the gentleman. "Good morning, Mr. Feormere."

The aforementioned Feormere was slightly below average height with a balding head of otherwise white hair. He wore a crisp brown suit of the plainest material and a gold watch hung from his coat.

The bespectacled, middle-aged man leaned forward and squinted at Ben before his eyes widened. "Ben! Ben Castle!"

Ben grinned. "So you do remember me."

The man scoffed. "How could I forget? You were my best customer when it came to the candies. Your father always dreaded a visit here if you were tagging along."

I looked Ben over with a twinkle in my eyes. "I'm surprised you have any teeth left."

"Good teeth run in the family," Ben told me as he drew out Fyson's list and set it on the counter. "But could you fulfill this order?"

Mr. Feormere picked up the paper and in a second he had scanned the contents and nodded his head. "Yep. Everything's in stock."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You could tell all of that without looking at your stock?"

He nodded. "Comes with practice, miss, and I don't believe we've been introduced."

Ben puffed up a little as he set a hand on my shoulder. "Millie Lucas, this is Mr. Weston Feormere, the proprietor of the grocery and the third generation to take up the reins of this fine establishment."

"Fourth," Feormere corrected him as he nodded at a young man a few cashiers down from him. "And that's one of my sons there. The others work the shelves and fill the wagons."

"Is Wesson among them?" Ben inquired.

"He'd better be," Feormere quipped as he held up the list. "But I'll get started on this. I wouldn't want any of it to get wet in the coming rain." And with that, he bowed his head and hurried to fulfill our order.

"I like the service," I mused as we wandered away to enjoy the sights before we drove home.

"They've succeeded because of their service," Ben told me as we sauntered through one long aisle after another.

He stopped at an intersection and a smile slipped onto his face. I followed where his eyes were focused and found him staring at a man about his age who was stocking the shelves. Ben pressed a finger to his lips and tiptoed toward the fellow.

"You couldn't do that then and you can't do that now," the man spoke up without so much as tilting his head in our direction.

Ben dropped his stance and laughed. "I had to try, Wesson, if only to see if you had slowed up."

Wesson turned his head and grinned at Ben. "I think I've gotten better. It comes with having kids of your own to watch." His attention fell on me and his eyebrows shot up. He stood and brushed himself off as he offered me a less mischievous smile. "And who have we here?"

Ben gestured first to me and then to the man. "Millie Lucas, this is Wesson Feormere, youngest and most troublesome of the Feormere children."

He grasped my hand and pressed a light kiss to the top. "A pleasure, Miss Lucas."

"Millie, if you please," I insisted.

"Then you must call me Wesson," he returned.

"Wesson?" The voice that called the young stocker was that of his father. The older Feormere had a displeased look on his face and our list in his hand. He marched up to us and shook the paper at his young son. "Where is the spare flour? The shipment that came in yesterday afternoon?"

Wesson nodded in the general direction of the back room. "In the warehouse, Father. We couldn't find enough men to unload it."

The elder Feormere frowned. "When will it be unloaded? Ben here needs twenty pounds himself, and I have several other customers waiting for their

"I could unload it myself after I'm finished here and deliver it to the customers and Rookwood later this evening," Wesson suggested.

"I'm sure we could wait that long," Ben assured the proprietor.

Feormere sighed. "Very well, but this must be avoided in the future."

Wesson shook his head. "It couldn't be avoided, Father. The bent shadow has everyone on edge so they won't come to work until the sun is up."

"A bent shadow has your men spooked?" Ben wondered.

Feormere sneered at the mention. "It's merely a fancy of their imaginations, but the rest of your order is nearly done. It'll be ready for you at the counter." He hurried away to his other duties.

Wesson watched his father leave with a shake of his head. "I haven't the heart to tell him, but even I've seen. . .something out on the loading docks."

"When?" Ben asked him.

"Last night," Wesson revealed as he tilted his head to face Ben. "I was unloading the freight with some of my brothers when I noticed something slip into the alley between the store and the livery. I hurried to the opening but the alley was empty."

"And you're sure you saw a bent shadow?" Ben persisted.

Wesson nodded. "As sure as I see you, but I should get back to work. If I don't start on that freight it won't get done before dark."

Ben clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Regardless of the hour, we'll keep Rookwood open for you when you arrive, and my aunt will be sure to have a warm meal for you, as well."

Wesson grinned. "I expect some of her famous cookies like when we were kids."

"You bring the flour and we'll provide the rest," Ben agreed before we left him to finish his duties.

We returned to the front desk and found Feormere the elder working as a cashier. He caught our eye and nodded at the door. "I had your goods taken out to your carriage. Your spirited animal gave them quite a tough time as they loaded it."

Ben grinned as he rummaged through his pocket and drew out his coin purse. "Sorry for the trouble." He took out a few coins and tossed them onto the counter. "Tell them this is my apology and my thanks for the quick fulfillment. How much do I owe you?"

Feormere pushed the coins back to him and shook his head. "It's all part of the business and your aunt's account has been charged."

A woman pushed her way past us and up to the counter. She practically shoved her list into Feormere's face. "Quick! Fulfill this before the storm comes!"

"If you'll excuse me," he apologized before he turned his attention to the frantic woman. Ben and I stepped away, but Feormere's voice called us back. "Your coins, Ben."

Ben looped an arm through mine and winked at me. "Walk fast."