Chapter 26

As Martin and Sam made their way down the short hall to Delights of the North Woods, Martin smelled cinnamon coming from the store. The windows were beautiful, completely re-done, and all the displays inside the store looked fresh and new. Karen herself stood behind the counter in a brand new outfit, her hair and make-up perfect.
She came from behind the counter when she saw Martin and Sam enter the store. “Gentlemen, welcome,” she said to them with a false note of gaiety in her voice. “I am so happy to have you visit Delights of the North Woods.”
Karen crossed the floor to first shake hands with Martin. “Martin, such a pleasure to see you again.” She looked over at Sam and moved to shake his hand as well. “Hello, I’m Karen Howe. I own Delights of the North Woods.” She shook Sam’s hand and looked him square in the face as he responded, visibly flustered, “Sam Jackson. Nice to meet you, Ms. Howe.”
Martin jumped in, “Sam’s our photographer. He’ll be taking some pictures of your beautiful new windows and displays.”
Karen seemed to glow she was so pleased. “Oh that would be just wonderful,” she enthused. “Where should we start?”
Martin glanced over at Sam. “Why don’t you take some photos while I ask Karen some questions?” Sam nodded and made his way to the front of the store. Karen looked after him as he moved away and got another look of panic on her face. “Shouldn’t we stay with him?” she asked Martin. “What if he takes pictures of the wrong things?”
Martin looked at her. “Wrong things? I think everything in your store is great.”
Karen shook her head. “No, no, no. He should take pictures of things that would make good grad gifts.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Martin. “Isn’t that what your story is about?”
Martin was surprised at how confrontational Karen seemed. “Well yes, of course.” His eyes followed Sam as he walked away. “Sam, hold up. Karen wants to point out some things that are particularly good for grad gifts.”
Sam looked over his shoulder at Karen. “Okay. What do you suggest, Ms. Howe?”
Karen pulled a list she’d prepared out of the back pocket of her slacks. “Here are some shots that I think would be good for your story.” She handed the list to Sam and went over where each item was located in the store. “Can you figure this out, Sam?” She smiled at him sweetly and patted him lightly on the shoulder. Sam looked at Martin and then back to Karen. “Sure, no problem.”
“Good! Now Martin, let’s go back to my office, and you can ask me your questions.” She moved past him and led the way to the back of the store. Martin glanced back at Sam who was watching Karen hurry away. They both shrugged their shoulders and went to their assigned tasks.

+ + +

The cinnamon fragrance Martin and Sam smelled as they entered the store was coming from Karen’s office. She was simmering some potpourri in a tiny crock pot on her desk, and Martin realized it was a strategic move to create ambience in the store.
Karen motioned Martin to sit down in a flowered over-stuffed chair that sat in the corner of the small office. The chair was so soft and worn, Martin sank into the cushion and his knees were pratically to his chin. Hand embroidered sayings were framed on the wall's throughout the office, uplifting and spiritual sayings that Martin felt sure inspired Karen Howe daily. Karen’s antique mahogany desk and surrounding shelves were filled with photos of her accomplished and beautiful daughters. Martin noticed that there wasn’t one single photo of Jeff Howe in the close to 40 framed photographs in the office.
“So, why don’t you ask me your questions,” Karen directed.
“Okay, let’s start with how you came up with the idea for the store, how long you’ve been open, you know, the story of how Delights of the North Woods was born.”
Karen launched into a 10-minute passionate history of her beloved shop, how it was her lifelong dream that began when she was a little girl who liked “playing store” with her friends. Her dream became a reality six years before when friends and family invested in her and the store. “I really felt that Siren deserved a first class shopping experience for all the moments in life that require a very special gift. Thankfully, I had many people who believed in me.” She smiled a self-satisfied smile and folded her arms across her chest.
Martin smiled back at her. “That is really lovely, Karen. So what do you see as trends in graduation gift giving?”
Karen looked off thoughtfully and then returned her gaze to Martin. “Journals are very popular. We have some lovely leather journals with pens that make a wonderful graduation gift. You know, something for young people to capture their thoughts and ideas as they embark on their new adventures.”
Martin nodded. “Other ideas?”
Karen sighed. “Well, of course! Candles, photo frames, photo albums. We also have scrap booking materials. What graduate wouldn’t love to document their journey with a lovely scrapbook?”
Martin pressed. “What about those graduates who just want cash? Why should someone get them a gift if they just want cash?" Karen got up from her chair and stood over Martin. “Well, cash is so crass. It doesn’t create a lovely memory. It will be spent on…well, who knows what. People need gifts, things to mark the transitions in their lives.” Her voice was raised, and she was getting agitated.
Martin decided to change course to keep things calm. “Okay, Karen, let’s switch gears. Did I tell you how this story will be part of a series on graduation and the end of the school year?”
Karen seemed to be jolted out of her agitation, and she calmed down. “Oh, really? How nice. A series? What will be some of the other stories?”
“Well, I’ll be talking to Carl Olson over at the Lodge at Crooked Lake about prom plans. And Jan Prestrud about prom dresses. Kyle Johanson about college finances. You know, all aspects of the end of high school.”
Karen’s face brightened, and she seemed to be getting more relaxed. “This sounds just wonderful! What else?”
Martin warmed to the conversation. “Well, we’re also doing a piece that honors a teacher who is retiring after more than 30 years of service.” Before Karen could ask the teacher’s name, Martin said, “Frank Talbot. He is the focus of that story.”
Karen face froze, and she stared at Martin. “Frank Talbot?” she said weakly.
Martin looked at her face and noticed for the first time the chiseled features, the high cheek bones, the straight black hair, the dark eyes. “Did you ever have Frank Talbot for a teacher, Karen?”
Karen didn’t answer Martin. She just stood up and said quietly, “I think we should go out and see how Sam is doing, Martin.” And as she walked out of the office, Martin knew that Karen Howe had been one of Frank Talbot’s victims.