Trouble on the Books

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Trouble on the Books Page 12

by Essie Lang


  “I hope you figure it out,” was all she said. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Yikes, I’ve got to get over to the castle. Thanks, Cody. It’s been good talking this over with you. And if you come up with any theories, let me know, okay?”

  “Will do. It’s cool, you know?”

  “What is?”

  “Smuggling. Organized crime. Sleepy little Alexandria Bay.”

  Spoken like a true teenager.

  “Makes an awesome mystery, don’t you think?” he continued. “Maybe I should be a writer.” He headed over to the mystery section and scanned the titles, softly whistling a tune Shelby didn’t know.

  * * *

  The work day seemed to drag, especially for a Sunday. The cloudy skies and chilly wind of the morning had morphed into showers around noon, and although tourists were still coming ashore, the numbers were definitely down. Shelby admitted to being a bit uptight when it rained. She’d watch each customer, hoping they’d seen the sign and left any umbrellas in the stand she’d set up outside the door. Then she would watch to see who might be shedding water drops as they walked around. If any happened to land on books, Shelby was there in a flash with a cloth, trying to appear casual as she wiped up the offending water before stains could set in.

  Around about early afternoon, Shelby wished she’d given Taylor the day off, business was so slow. She kept thinking about the salary that would have been saved and then would give herself a mental kick, reminding herself that Taylor probably needed the salary even more these days. They spent most of the time pouring over the catalogs that had been left by various publishers and gift company reps, tossing around ideas for new sections and playing the “what if” game—what if we had all the money needed and could do whatever we wanted with the store? Fun, but not useful.

  At the end of the day, when Shelby exited the shuttle back on the mainland, she decided a truffle treat was needed, if only to cheer herself up. She had a dinner date at Edie’s in an hour—plenty of time to start with dessert. The rain had disappeared, and even though it was late in the day, the sun was trying to poke through the low cloud cover.

  Erica looked up from what she was reading when Shelby entered the shop.

  “Caught you,” Shelby joked. “I should report you to your boss.”

  “Consider me reported,” Erica shot back. “I was just looking through some catalogs, wondering if I needed to change up some of the decor.”

  “That’s what Taylor and I did this afternoon. Slow day.” She let her gaze wander slowly around the shop, wondering what it would be like to work there. Of course, there’d be all that chocolate. Which would mean she’d have to come up with a whole lot of self-control. And then, she’d also have to know what she was doing and how to make the truffles. Not going to happen.

  “I hear you. Now, I want you to try this new truffle I’ve been experimenting with. I think it might just be ready for public consumption.” She led Shelby into the back room and pulled a small tray of truffles out of the cupboard. “See if you can figure out what flavors I used.” Erica leaned against the counter, watching closely while Shelby bit into the truffle she’d chosen.

  Shelby was aware of the scrutiny, realizing a reaction was called for. Fortunately, she felt the truffle was to die for, and broke into a smile, giving Erica a thumbs-up.

  Erica let out the breath she’d been holding. “That’s a relief. Take another one for good measure. Can you pick out the flavors?”

  “Um, something spicy. Chili powder?”

  “Close. It’s chipotle. Now, anything else?”

  “Something citrusy. Lemon, lime?”

  “You got it. Lime. Do you like the mixture?”

  Shelby nodded, and when she had finally swallowed, she answered, “So much so that if you don’t hide that tray, it will be empty by the time I leave.”

  Erica pulled out a small carboard box and pieced it together. She put five of the remaining truffles in it. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

  Shelby felt genuinely pleased. She liked Erica a lot and was pleased that the friendship had formed so fast. But she loved the truffles. She’d better get back to her morning walking routine or she’d soon be paying for all the extra calories.

  * * *

  She decided that fast-walking to Edie’s would do her a lot of good after all those truffles, and she’d just turned onto High Street when she noticed Matthew going through the front gate at the house. By the time she reached it, he had disappeared inside. So she wasn’t at all surprised when he opened the door for her.

  “It seems I’m on door duty tonight,” he said, “although that’s a small price to pay for a delicious home-cooked meal.” He took a long sniff of the air.

  Shelby laughed and did the same as she handed him the bottle of wine she’d brought and then took off her jacket. She hung it in the closet and wandered into the kitchen, where she found Edie standing at the stove and Matthew opening the wine.

  Edie walked slowly over to Shelby and gave her a hug. “You didn’t need to bring anything, dear. But thank you.”

  “You’re walking without any aids,” Shelby commented, pleased that her aunt was healing so quickly.

  “I give it a try every now and then, around the house, but my body is quick to let me know when it’s had enough of being adventurous. Would you mind setting the table? I think we’ll eat in the dining room tonight. You can use the silverware that’s in the top drawer of the sideboard.”

  That sounded special, Shelby thought as she did as she was told. Even though she now knew about their relationship, Shelby was still surprised that he was included in a Sunday meal. Family time. Could things be progressing? She hoped so. They made an interesting couple and neither was getting any younger. She’d just have to make sure never to mention that to Edie. Not if she valued her limbs.

  She was also pleased to see that Matthew looked none the worse for wear after his questioning by the police.

  They sat down about ten minutes later to a rib roast with all the trimmings, including Shelby’s favorite—Yorkshire pudding. During the meal, the conversation flowed around the goings-on at Blye Castle. Edie loved gossip and clearly missed being in on the daily happenings. Shelby realized Edie might be returning to work full-time at the bookstore fairly soon at this rate. That was good news, wasn’t it?

  Over tea and a slice of the apple pie Edie had baked that afternoon, Shelby decided it was time to ask some questions. She couldn’t pass up having them both in the same room.

  “So, since you’re both here, I want to run a theory past you. I know you’ll both say it’s preposterous, but just hear me out.”

  Edie looked over at Matthew, but Shelby wasn’t sure what his reaction meant. She decided to plow ahead.

  “I’ve been looking at some possible suspects and motives for Loreena’s murder. You both know that. What still stands out is the fact that Zack Griffin is involved in the investigation.” She glanced at Matthew, but his face gave away nothing. “He keeps saying that the different agencies cooperate with each other, but I’d think, with the local police and State Police working on this, the Coast Guard isn’t really needed. Besides, the murder happened on land, even though her body was found in the water. I mean, the grotto, cave, and water are all part of Blye Island, aren’t they?”

  This time Matthew nodded, but he didn’t comment.

  “I know where this is heading,” Edie said. “Again.”

  “Please, Aunt Edie, just hear me out. I’ve been doing some reading about the Prohibition days and rum smuggling, and I know there was a lot of it happening in this area. What if it’s happening again? I’ve also read that it didn’t die out totally with the repeal of Prohibition.”

  Matthew shook his head. “While that’s an intriguing theory, it’s highly unlikely. For starters, in the twenties and thirties, it was much easier to smuggle. The authorities didn’t have anywhere close to the types of electronic tracking they do these days. Their boats are more highly technologically fitte
d, and it would be incredibly hard for anyone to get by their patrols. And what would be smuggled? Not booze anymore. Drugs, I suppose. If we were farther downriver, I might agree that cigarettes were a possibility.”

  Shelby opened her mouth to answer, but Matthew held up his hand and continued talking, “Also, from the smugglers’ side of it, there are certainly more foolproof ways to smuggle goods these days. Two or three hours in a small boat in open water with the risk of being pulled over by the Coast Guard seems downright foolish.”

  “But then why was Loreena murdered in the grotto?”

  “What? Do you think Loreena was involved in a smuggling operation in some way? Do you hear what you’re saying?” Matthew narrowed his eyes and tilted his head toward her. “I know you didn’t know her well, but can you picture that?”

  “I guess not,” Shelby admitted with great reluctance.

  “And besides, who’s the brains behind this supposed smuggling? Not Loreena, and I can’t think of anyone involved with Blye Castle who would fit that bill. Have you met the board yet? You’d quickly agree with me on that one.”

  Shelby had perked up at his question. “What about someone else in town?”

  “Always possible, but highly improbable. No one appears to be unduly profiting or showing signs of a windfall. It just doesn’t make any sense, Shelby. I wish you could see that and drop it. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “But how would I get hurt if nothing’s happening?”

  “There are always secrets, even if there’s nothing illegal going on. Folks don’t like having their lives looked into, especially by a newcomer. And then there’s the police. I’m sure you’ve already been warned off, but I know for a fact, they don’t like a civilian poking his or her nose into an investigation. They can get very uptight about it, believe me.” Matthew shook his head and sat back.

  Shelby took a deep breath, trying to release some of the tension she felt building inside her. “Okay, that all makes sense and you’re probably right, but it could happen, couldn’t it? Otherwise, why is the CGIS so interested? They even questioned you, Matthew.”

  His eyes darkened briefly, but his voice sounded unconcerned. “Just doing exactly what he said they were doing, Shelby. Helping out. I guess everyone wants a shot at the prime suspect.”

  She looked at him sharply. How could he joke about this? Because that’s what it sounded like he was doing. She then turned her gaze on Edie, who looked as tense as Shelby felt. Well, this wasn’t getting her anywhere. Shelby felt a shiver snake down her spine. It was all too weird. “Doesn’t that mean something?”

  Nobody seemed to have an answer for that.

  “All right,” Shelby finally said. “It probably is a dumb idea, and I know that I know nothing about police business. I was just trying to help.”

  Edie looked relieved as she answered in a choked-up voice, “And we appreciate it, Shelby. It’s all my fault for asking you to do just that. But now I’m asking that you not get involved any further.”

  Shelby didn’t bother to hide her surprise. That’s what she’d been thinking, that she shouldn’t do any more, but hearing Edie say it, she felt almost let down. She just stared, open-mouthed at Edie, unable to come up with a reply. Edie obviously took her silence as a sign of agreement, because she started stacking the pie plates and asked Shelby to carry them into the kitchen. After clearing the table and filling the dishwasher, Shelby joined her aunt and Matthew in the living room carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. She knew they’d been talking about her, because they went silent until she sat down. Then they began discussing Edie’s garden as if it had been their original topic.

  Shortly after, Matthew excused himself, saying he wanted to get back home before it got too dark. He said goodbye to Shelby, and Edie walked him to the front door. Once he’d left, Edie eased herself down onto the hard-backed chair in the living room that she’d been using since the surgery.

  Shelby had refreshed their tea and handed the cup and saucer to Edie before taking the wingback chair across from her. “That was a delicious supper. I enjoyed it.”

  Edie smiled with delight. “And I enjoy cooking, so that works out nicely. Tomorrow, I’m thinking lasagna. Trudy picked up some groceries for me today, so I’m all set.”

  “Sounds equally delicious.” Shelby took a sip of her tea, wondering how to frame what was on her mind. “I had an interesting customer the other day. Her name was Prissy Newmarket, and she said she knew my mom. In fact, she said I looked a lot like her. I didn’t get a chance to really talk to her. She seemed all over the place, topic-wise. Her husband was with her. Do you know her?”

  “Prissy? I’m not really sure. The name doesn’t ring any bells,” Edie said, although Shelby had a feeling she was stalling for time. She seemed to be having more trouble than usual getting comfortable. Of course, that could be legitimate.

  “Do I really look like my mom?”

  Edie’s face softened. “Yes, you do, Shelby. She was a beautiful young woman.”

  Shelby blushed. “I’ve never thought of myself as being beautiful.” And that was true. Passable, maybe. But this was her aunt speaking, and aunts were known to be biased. It was probably in the job description. “What was she like?”

  Edie took a few moments before answering. She seemed to be giving it careful consideration. “She was full of life. She came from Greenville, Kentucky, you know, and was every bit the southern belle. Folks in Alex Bay didn’t know what had hit them when your dad brought her home.”

  “Where did they meet?” Shelby wasn’t sure for how long she’d be able to get her aunt to open up, so she chose her questions with care.

  “Down in Lexington. Ralph had gone on holiday with a couple of friends one summer, and he ended up falling in love. It was a whirlwind romance, and they got married right away so that she could move here with him.”

  “Somehow I can’t picture my dad doing something so impulsive.”

  “He was a different man in those days. And if you had known Merrily, you’d know why. Oops, I’m sorry, honey. That was insensitive of me.”

  “No, that’s all right. That’s life, isn’t it? She died before I had a chance to really get to know her.”

  Edie stood abruptly, much faster than Shelby had seen her do in a long time. “I’m really feeling tired and sore, Shelby. I think I did too much today. I hope you don’t mind if I just head to bed. I’ll take care of the rest of the dishes tomorrow. If you could just turn on the dishwasher and then let yourself out, okay?”

  Shelby looked at her aunt carefully. She did look exhausted, and something else. Jittery? Whatever it was, she knew there’d be no more shared information that night.

  “You get yourself to bed and I’ll wash up these cups before I go. I insist. Have a good sleep.”

  “Thank you, honey.” Edie grabbed her walker that had been parked behind her chair and walked slowly out of the room. Shelby heard the bedroom door shut and then started gathering the dirty dishes, all the while thinking about secrets. Edie seemed to be keeping plenty of those about Shelby’s mom.

  And, somewhere, someone had a big secret about Loreena’s death.

  Chapter Twenty

  Shelby found herself looking at everyone in town with a new perspective for the next few days. How could any of these friendly folks who always smiled at her and said hi possibly be involved in murder? She felt welcome here, even though she had to admit she hadn’t done very much in trying to fit into the community. That had been partly because, at first, she’d viewed this as a temporary change of address, just until her Aunt Edie had fully recovered and could get on with everything involved with the bookstore. She’d thought it might take up to a year. Of course, Edie would never admit it might take that long, and Shelby knew she’d be back into the swing of things as soon as humanly possible. Still, a year was what she’d been expecting. After that, she’d hoped to see what other possibilities were out there.

  But now she realized how foolish it
had been to make that assumption without knowing what Edie had in mind or, equally, what living and working in Alexandria Bay would be like. Now she knew, and she realized it was time to get to know the people and area better.

  Matthew had pointed out an obvious omission on her part. She definitely needed to meet the board of directors for the Heritage Society. She really should have been at the last meeting, filling in for Edie in her role as director, but she’d felt being in the store was more important. As luck would have it, their next meeting was that afternoon at two PM in their offices at the Felix Heritage House down by the water.

  She had arranged for Cody to help out at Blye, knowing that foot traffic in town on a Wednesday in early May would be minimal and Trudy could probably easily handle the main store on her own. To her surprise, Edie then decided to go in and help for a couple of hours, but Shelby had the last word and made Edie promise to spend most of the time sitting down.

  They hadn’t continued their discussion about her mom or even had a really good follow-up talk. Trudy seemed to be spending a lot more time at Edie’s, even though the patient was nicely on the mend. A more suspicious mind might wonder if Edie had asked Trudy to do that, not wanting to be alone with Shelby. She scoffed at herself for even thinking it. Her aunt wasn’t devious. She really must be getting on edge about everything.

  Shelby had just arrived back in the village on the one PM shuttle and stopped in at the Mango Lagoon for a quick bite. As she checked over the menu, she realized someone was taking the seat across from her at the table for two. She was surprised when the stranger identified herself as Rose Denison, chief reporter, photographer, and editor at the The Bay Chronicle, the weekly local newspaper. Shelby knew the byline.

  After introducing herself, Rose added, “I’m surprised we haven’t met yet. You’ve been in town, what, two months now?”

 

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