by Essie Lang
Shelby looked at her. Now this sounded interesting.
“In fact,” Juliette went on, “she was found floating in the grotto, her hands folded on her chest, with a single white rose in them.” She sighed. “Isn’t that romantic?”
“Aside from the dying part, yes,” Patricia said, a deadpan expression on her face.
Hmm, gossip is alive and well, Shelby mused.
“I’ve heard your aunt has herself a beau,” Mimi said, a look of delight on her face.
Shelby couldn’t think of what to say. She didn’t want to discuss Edie’s business, but at the same time, she was interested in what was being said.
“Yes, she has,” Mimi continued. “She hasn’t said a word about who he is though. Not to any of us, anyway, and we share a lot here in book club. But she has a special glow about her. At least she did when I saw her last. I haven’t seen her since her operation.” She looked a bit confused.
Trudy chuckled. “And we do all so like sharing, don’t we? Now, how about we share some of our thoughts about our book tonight. I, for one, am amazed that after writing so many books in the series, Ms. Penny is still able to keep each new one fresh and challenging to the reader.”
After a half hour of lively conversation, Shelby’s attention started to wander. She liked the group and thought she might make the effort to attend it on a regular basis. That surprised her. She usually wasn’t a joiner. And here she’d had two meetings in one day. She wondered what would be next. The Chamber of Commerce? She smiled at the absurdity of that.
Juliette leaned closer to her. “What are you thinking about, Shelby? Have you found a handsome young man here in the Bay?”
Shelby felt her cheeks turning red and wished she could control it. She didn’t want to be the subject of any of the town gossip. “I was just thinking about how much I’m enjoying the bookstore and everything associated with it,” she answered smoothly.
She was pleased with Juliette’s response. “That’s delightful. I love it here, having grown up and lived in the same house all these years. It’s always so gratifying to find others who love the town too. But now, what have you heard about the murder?”
Shelby looked from one Babe to the other before answering. They all looked expectant, even Leonard. She had her theory, of course, but that was about all.
“I know Loreena drowned in the grotto, but I don’t have any other facts, just suppositions and questions. Have any of you heard anything else?” That might be a more productive question.
Mimi cleared her throat. “We all know that Loreena Swan was a very, how should I put it, formal person.”
“You mean she was uppity, Mimi,” Dolly interrupted. “Just say what you mean.”
Mimi looked embarrassed but then nodded. “If the Bay had royalty, Loreena would think she was part of it. She was very concerned with the impression she made and what people thought of her. So, I’d venture to say, she was involved in something mighty scandalous, like maybe a love triangle, you know, with someone from the wrong side of the tracks, who was already married. The wife did it.”
Mimi looked pleased with herself. Dolly shook her head, while Shelby hid a smile. Why not? It was as viable a theory as anything she’d come up with.
“I agree that it was probably because of either love or hate,” Juliette said, leaning forward in her seat. “They’re polar opposites, although love can turn into hate, given the right circumstances.”
As Shelby looked around the room, she saw all the women nodding while Leonard looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Shelby was still thinking about the book club the next morning as she unlocked the door to the bookstore. It had been an entertaining evening, especially when they’d gotten back onto the topic of Loreena’s death. Obviously, the book club liked to discuss a lot of different topics. Although there had been some theories, it didn’t really seem like any of the members had been close to Loreena. So, bottom line, it was probably all gossip.
Shelby looked at the clock as she got the coffee started. Taylor was coming over on the next shuttle, and she just hoped she would arrive before the eager shoppers descended. They’d been warned that two school tours had been booked to visit the castle, part of the what-to-do-with-the-students the last few weeks before summer vacation. Apparently, Blye Castle was a favorite year-end field trip, and schools from miles around found their way there. The kids ranged from grade school to high school, and while many were interested in what the castle had to offer, more were just happy to have the day off and away from their desks. As Shelby had already found with one such group, those who made it to the bookstore were prone to shoving, trying to get inside, only to do the same thing on the way out once they found out there were no comic books, coloring books, or graphic novels on the shelves. Their short visits could be totally exhausting, though.
One such group had just left when Shelby looked up to see Leonard, the Plus One, walking through the door. He spotted her and waved as he made his way around an older couple that had squeezed in before him.
“Hi again,” he said. “Uh, I’m Leonard Hopkins, from last night, you know?”
Shelby smiled. “I do know. Although I didn’t know your last name. It’s nice to see you again. Are you playing tourist today?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been through this castle so many times, I could give the spiel with my eyes closed. Every time a relative, especially one with children, visits, it’s a must-see. And I have a lot of out-of-town relatives.” He winked in a conspiratorial manner.
Shelby warmed to him immediately. “That’s very nice for you.”
“Oh, it is. But the reason I came here today, besides always enjoying the boat ride, and because I had nothing else going on, was to suggest that you talk to my daughter. About Loreena, I mean. I own Goldy Locks, you know. Or maybe you don’t know. That’s the hair salon on James Street. I own it, but Amanda, it’s her baby. I bankrolled it for her. All of which is neither here nor there. But she did happen to mention, right after the murder, that Loreena was a client. And you know what they say about beauty parlors. A hotbed of gossip. I just thought she might have heard something that might be interesting and useful.”
“I’ll bet she has, but I’m curious, why would you think I need this information?”
“Because it’s all around town that you’re doing some investigating, much to Chief Stone’s dislike, I’d imagine. Anyway, more power to you. Now, I think I’ll just snatch up a bag of Erica’s truffles, take a stroll around the lovely gardens, and head home to do some of my own yard work.”
“Thanks for stopping in, Leonard. And I appreciate the tip.” Shelby smiled.
He winked and headed to the truffle display.
Shelby didn’t notice when he left; she’d been recommending something from the local-authors shelf for another customer. She thought about him later, though, and decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to talk to his daughter.
By the end of the day, both Shelby and Taylor were more than ready to close up shop and drag themselves to the shuttle. Although Shelby often enjoyed talking about books to teens, she found that the level of noise with these groups usually increased to such a high level that she could hardly hear herself think. To top it off, Taylor had felt ill and spent some of the time either huddled in the back room or sitting in the castle foyer beside the tranquility of the water feature. Shelby had suggested she leave early, but Taylor had been adamant that she’d be fine.
Shelby hadn’t heard back from Chief Stone, even though she’d left a highly detailed phone message saying she had some questions to ask about her mother. Shelby had ended her message by saying she’d stop by the police station after work. She spent the short ride from Blye Island back to Alex Bay trying to decide if not hearing from the chief meant anything or if she should just go ahead and show up. Of course, there was no guarantee the chief would be there. Maybe the station wasn’t such a good place for a personal talk anyway. She did, after all
, have the chief’s home address.
But first, she wanted to stop by Edie’s and fill her in on a plan to introduce a magazine section to the castle bookstore. Shelby had been putting the proposal together for a few days now, and she wanted to get Edie’s take on it. But if Trudy was already there for supper, she would just drop off the details and then leave. She didn’t want to look like she was angling for an invitation.
She walked faster than usual, wanting to get some exercise after being cooped up most of the day, and had just turned onto Edie’s street when she spotted the local police SUV parked at the curb outside Edie’s house. She hoped nothing was wrong and quickened her pace.
She paused to catch her breath, then knocked on the front door before pulling it open. She found Edie and the chief sitting at the kitchen table, coffee mugs in front of them. It looked like some baked goodies had also been shared. Were they friends again now?
“Oh, Shelby,” Edie said, “this is a surprise.” She glanced at Chief Stone, who immediately stood and grabbed her hat from the table.
“I need to be getting along.” She nodded at Edie and also at Shelby and put her hand on the back door.
“Chief Stone,” Shelby said. “I left you a message.”
“Oh, yes. So you did. I’ll get back to you on that.” She put her hat on her head and left.
Shelby just stared at the door for a moment, feeling supremely brushed off. Then she turned to Edie. “What was that all about? Why was she here? She didn’t come to harass you?” Or arrest you?
Edie started clearing the table, answering but not looking at Shelby. “She just stopped by to update me.” Shelby couldn’t have been more surprised.
“After practically kicking us off her property the other week?” Shelby remained standing, focused on the door the chief had just exited, trying to let the pieces fall into place. “Did this have anything to do with the message I left the chief? All I want is to know more about my mother. I want to see pictures of her. I want to find her grave site.”
“What?”
“That’s right. I’ve been wandering through the cemetery, and although I’ve found lots of Cox tombstones, I haven’t found one for my mom. What’s with all the secrecy?”
Edie groaned and sat down hard on a kitchen chair. “It’s complicated, Shelby. And I made a promise to your father, my brother. This is all very hard on me.” She shook her head and then slowly pushed herself off the chair with the help of the tabletop. “I’m sorry, dear, I think I have to go lie down a bit until Trudy gets here. It’s all just too much while I’m still recovering.”
Shelby held her tongue. She wanted to scream, but she could see that Edie was indeed tired and upset. But what was it about the topic of her mother that brought on that reaction? Or maybe it was something about Matthew. Had Chief Stone indeed been telling her something about the investigation? That seemed highly unlikely. One thing she did know, she wasn’t going to get any more answers that night, out of either of them.
She left the large manila envelope she’d brought on the kitchen table and let herself out. Her walk back home was a slower one as she went over everything in her head, not really coming up with any answers. Or questions. She almost stepped on the cat when she got back to the houseboat. It had been sitting on the deck but whisked out of her way just in time.
“Oh, cat. You almost gave me a heart attack,” she said, leaning against the door. “Are you hungry? I seem to have lost my appetite, but a glass of wine would hit the spot.”
She opened the door and waited for the cat to precede her. She turned the radio on and hummed along with Justin Timberlake singing “Summer Love” while she poured her wine and filled the cat’s food dishes. “That’s it. Justin Timberlake. That’s what I’ll call you. You can be very vocal sometimes, and I can’t be calling you ‘cat’ all the time.”
The cat sat next to the food for a few seconds, giving Shelby a long stare before finally turning his back and starting to munch on the dry food.
“I’ll take that as a sign of approval. But maybe it needs to be shortened, especially when we’re outside. Otherwise, the neighbors might talk. Yes, I’m sure they will. J.T. it is, then.”
Shelby sat on a stool at the counter and watched J.T. finish off both sides of his food dish in record time. She wasn’t sure if his eating habits matched those of his namesake, but he certainly was a handsome cat.
“Why can’t you also be a mystery-solving cat, like the one in the ‘Cat Who’ series?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
After over a month of working in the main bookstore and now, with the days of preparation included, just over two weeks at Blye Castle, Shelby foolishly thought she’d experienced almost everything the bookstore business could throw at her. So she wasn’t really prepared when the book sales representatives started calling to make appointments for her to view and buy their winter stock.
She realized it would be better if she left Taylor on her own at the castle location one morning and spent that time with Trudy, going through catalogs with the reps at the home base. The entire database was in that computer, and she’d have Trudy’s knowledge to help make the decisions. She toyed with the idea of asking Edie if she wanted to be a part of it but thought better of it. Shelby wanted to impress Edie with how well she now fit into the Bayside Books scheme of things, and she could only do that if she wasn’t constantly leaning on Edie for help.
She felt excited but also a bit anxious, not sure of what would be involved in the process. On the walk to the bookstore, she kept telling herself she was a competent and savvy bookseller and retailer. This business wouldn’t get the better of her or her self-confidence. When she arrived, she found Trudy already there with the lights and computer turned on and the drip coffee maker ready to brew.
“What time did you get in, Trudy? I thought I was early.”
Trudy laughed. Her copper pendant earrings shimmered as she brushed a stray hair off her forehead. “I’m an early riser. You tend to be as you age. Your body clock adjusts to early bedtimes and rising. So, I fixed Edie her breakfast, helped her get ready for the day, and here I am. Besides, I love walking through the near-empty streets in the morning.”
“Yeah, I guess once the summer tourist season really gets in full swing, there aren’t many times when it’s like that.”
“That’s right, especially when the sports fishermen take to the water, some at the crack of dawn. I hope it will be okay for you in your houseboat. Are there many smaller boats moored there?”
Shelby hung up her lightweight sweater and finished her coffee before answering. “I haven’t seen many. There are four houseboats along the dock I’m on, and the other two docks have a variety of different boats tied up, usually the bigger cruisers. Their owners are actually sleeping on them.”
“I’ll bet. There’s a lot of money afloat in these waters in the summer. Now, before the book rep arrives, take a look through the entries in the computer. Here, I’ve already grouped them according to distributor so that you can see the types of books we order from there and in what sort of numbers.”
Trudy moved aside and Shelby sat at the desk. She took a minute to glance around. Although it was the larger of the two stores, over twice the size of the castle store, it managed to look just as cozy. That was probably because Edie had used the same color scheme at both locations. Smart woman. The two comfortable chairs at the back of the store were placed in front of a large window—not a bay one, unfortunately—overlooking a small stone patio. By late afternoon, it would be completely bathed in sun and usually sported a small bistro table and two matching chairs. Unfortunately, they’d been stolen one night in the fall, and Edie was reluctant to replace them until she could be on the spot to keep an eye peeled for anyone casing them, as she liked to say. Everyone in the village was shocked that this had happened, but no one had any leads. Edie’s solution, as she liked to tell everyone, was to bolt down the next set. Even so, she would be watching them closely.
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nbsp; This location also had a small love seat tucked between two small bookcases. A low wicker table sat within reach and doubled as a catchall for magazines and some advance reading copies that the publishers sent on a regular basis. If customers looked interested in one of the copies, they would usually be loaned the item with the hope that they would become hooked on the series.
Shelby turned her attention back to the list in front of her and had almost finished with it when the front door swung open and a stocky middle-aged man, about five foot six, entered. He wore a sports coat that even from a distance looked a bit frayed over a plaid shirt, and jeans, also frayed, along with a big smile on his face. His hair was graying around the temples, which gave him a dignified although mischievous look.
Trudy looked pleased to see him. “Kent, so good to see you again.”
He set his two cases on the ground and gave Trudy a big hug. Then he turned to Shelby. “I’m assuming you’re the Shelby I’ve been hearing so much about. Kent Thompson. Great to meet you, and I hope we sell many books together.”
Shelby shook his extended hand. “I do too, Kent. Can we get you a cup of coffee?”
“Sure, sure. Black, please. And I brought the goodies.” He reached into one of the briefcases and pulled out a small paper bag, which he placed on the desk. In went his hand again and out came a paper plate, plastic forks, and napkins. He pulled three lemon-cream Danishes out of the bag and displayed them on the plate.
“Hope you like these. I got them in Clayton, fresh this morning before I left.”
Shelby eyed them with delight, even though she’d just finished her breakfast. “I didn’t know that’s where you lived.”
“I do, although I’m originally from Syracuse. I’m on the road a lot visiting my bookstores. You’ll get used to my comings and goings, at least two times a year in person. And then, if we have special offers or hot titles we’re inserting into the next season, I’ll call first and then email you all the info. Please, eat,” he added, holding the plate toward her.