Her lips press white as she offers me a wide-eyed stare. Not a thought crosses her mind.
“Okay, fine, but first tell me. Did Colt act suspicious?”
“Yes. Now tell me this so-called secret.”
“Bizzy?” Emmie calls from behind. “I’m all done.” She wags her phone at me before looking over at Morgan. “Oh hey, Mabel.” Emmie has no idea that Morgan is alive and well. I figured I’d better keep the number of people who know the truth to a minimum. “I’m so very sorry about your loss. Your sister was a powerhouse. I really enjoyed her shows.” She ticks her head toward the shop to our left. “I think I’ll head inside. You both come in, too. It’s freezing out here.”
She ducks inside and Morgan looks momentarily confused as she reads the shop name.
“Two Old Broads? I love it already.”
“It’s owned and run by my mother and Georgie. You should at least duck inside to see the quirky world of quilts they’ve got. But first—the secret?”
She blows out a huge breath. “Do not even think about whispering this to that hunky homicide detective you’re married to. And if you do, tell him to ignore this for now.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Colt was desperate for cash. He had recently purchased a cabin and a new truck and got in way over his head. It would have been fun, but they cut both his hours and his pay at the resort last year. I guess the resort business isn’t doing so hot right now. Anyway, he got into some dicey things.” She cringes. “Forgeries.”
“What kind of forgeries?”
“Stupid forgeries. Apparently, they have a lot of writers’ retreats up at the resort, and well, the authors usually sell signed copies. Colt saw how much people were willing to pay to get their hands on them and so he thought up a scheme. He would go to these big box stores and buy up a couple dozen books by a famous author and then do the forgeries himself.” And this is the part where I had better keep my mouth shut.
I can’t help but narrow my eyes over hers. “I know you’re holding something else back. What is it?” I gasp. “You sold those forgeries in your bookstore, didn’t you?”
“No.” Her face fills with an anxious look. “I mean, yes.” She closes her eyes for a long spate of time. “But only because I thought they were real. Colt played host to so many writers’ retreats, both Mabel and I thought they were genuine. Anyway, we sold them at whatever list price we wanted. They were essentially used books at that point since Colt purchased them initially from the authors, so we thought. And since we were selling as many online copies as we were in the store—”
“You were committing wire fraud.”
She nods. “So was Colt. It turns out, he had an entire side business going that I knew nothing about. He had built up a pretty big web presence on all the used bookstore sites. Anyway, I found out about it one night when I caught him signing a book. My heart dropped right through my chest, Bizzy. Books are in my blood. Thieves and liars are not. That’s when I knew we were over. I confronted him and he begged me not to say anything. He threw all of the books into the fireplace and said he’d never do it again.”
I take in an icy lungful of air. “He was afraid you’d turn him in. How long ago was that?”
“A week ago.”
“Wow. So this is all very fresh.”
“It happened just a few nights before I supposedly bit the big one. I guess in my heart I’d like to think that Colt didn’t do that to me—to Mabel by de facto. But I guess after hearing myself rehash everything, it sounds possible.”
“And what about Fern? What kind of secret are you holding of hers?”
She tips her head back. Fern Tuttle, how I wish I never met you. “Like I said, it was that silly thing about not promoting her band.”
“That’s not a secret.” I don’t hesitate with the quip.
Her lavender eyes steady over mine. “Look, Fern is a bad character. A tough girl who knows how to get into trouble. I wasn’t looking to associate my brand with hers. That’s the end of it, I promise. And Fern got her feelings hurt. She said she was going to end me.” Tears glitter in her eyes as she glances across the street. “And here I thought she was kidding.”
A glacial wind sweeps by, strong enough to pick up the powder off the ground and pepper us with icy kisses.
“Come on, Morgan. Let’s get inside. We’ll figure this out.”
We head on into my mother’s shop, along with our menagerie, and are immediately wrapped in its warmth.
Two Old Broads doesn’t have a single customer inside. It’s light and bright with wonky quilts set out everywhere you look. Twinkle lights frame the front window and are set out along the shelves that line the walls.
The right side of the store has a sign that reads Ree’s priceless picks! And, of course, everything is neat and in order, from its neatly folded and organized wonky quilt dresses to the candles that line the shelves above.
And the left side of the store sits in a far more noticeable disarray with a mosaic sign that reads Georgie’s junk! Get it while it’s hot.
Morgan gives a soft laugh as she takes the place in. “This is the best.”
Mom, Georgie, and Juni hustle on over and pet the pooches while I let go of the leashes in my hand. Mom has on a forest green sweater with a pink collar popping out from underneath. And with her jeans, pink heels, and feathered hair, she looks like the ever so perky eighties’ fashion plate. Georgie has on a red kaftan and Juni has donned her biker gear. Some things are timeless and the couture these ladies sport is one of them.
I crane my neck and spot Emmie texting in the corner.
Why do I get the feeling Mack is on the other end of the line?
Mom coos at Acorn, “This is the silliest, cutest face I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t believe a word she says, kid,” Georgie says, giving Acorn a quick scratch despite the fact she seems to be balancing a plate of sweet treats and they’re not the snowballs Emmie brought over. They look like brownies. “She said the same thing about five thousand times to your look-alike.”
“That’s because they look alike,” Mom caws at her.
“Everyone, I’d like for you to meet Mabel Buttonwood,” I say, holding a hand her way. “Morgan’s twin.”
Juni gasps as she takes in Mabel. “Aw, hon. I’m sorry about your sister. I can’t imagine how broken up you must be.”
“Oh wow.” Mom steps in to observe her. “You must have been identical twins. I can’t imagine how you’re taking this.”
“Have a brownie.” Georgie holds the plate her way and Mom quickly pulls her back.
“No way,” she’s quick to protest. “I’m sorry, Mabel, but these are Georgie’s special brownies.” She says special in air quotes.
“They’re not only special.” Georgie leans in. “They’re magical.”
Fish yowls as she pokes her head out, Oh, how I miss the days of watching Georgie eat her magical brownies. I just knew if I came along I’d be entertained. I didn’t realize how far-reaching that entertainment would be. Bizzy, do you think she’ll take off her clothes again?
I frown as I shake my head at my sweet cat.
Let’s hope not.
Morgan laughs. “Actually, if they’re magical for the reason I’m thinking, then I’m more than half-tempted. How’s business going for you, ladies? My bookshop is having its post-Christmas lull.”
Mom glances to the ceiling. “I’m afraid we’re having our postmortem. We haven’t had a single sale in three days. If this keeps up, we won’t be around next winter to see how far into the year our post-Christmas slump can go.”
Juni grunts, “I’m afraid you caught us in the middle of a brainstorming session. Mama thinks magical brownies are the way to get more customers in the gate.”
Mom clucks her tongue. “The goal is not to become a junkie’s supplier. It’s to supply the fine women of this town with quilts.”
“The fine women of this town stopped shopping here three days ago.” Georgie doesn’t mind pointing it out w
ith a rather curt tone.
Juni lifts a finger. “We need a book club.”
“That’s a great idea!” Mom claps her hands in praise.
“A naughty book club.” Georgie nods. “I’ll get to doing research on the subject right away.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “No way. Women our age want books with talking animals. And a good mystery to solve with lots of juicy twists.”
I glance to Morgan who happens to be the juiciest twist I’ve had in a long while.
“Any ideas, Mabel?” I ask. “What do you do down at the Haunted Book Barn to keep the momentum going?”
“It’s tough this time of year, but we usually have a big half-off, end-of-season sale. Have you tried that?”
“Last week.” Georgie nods. “And now not a soul is interested in paying full price.” She smacks Mom on the arm. “Face it, Preppy, we need a new shtick and we need it fast.”
Morgan bites down on a smile. “No offense, but I think you ladies are the shtick. In fact, I think you should do a show right here in the store.”
“Now that’s a great idea,” Mom chirps while spiking her fists to her hips.
“Wait a minute.” Georgie glowers over at my mother. “I’m one step ahead of all of you. I’ve already talked to that fancy production team that was at the inn that ill-fated afternoon, and the woman who heads it up says she’s willing to come down and shoot for us. But when I presented the idea fifteen minutes ago, you said it sounded like a bunch of overpriced malarkey.”
Mom makes a face. “Okay, fine. It sounded a lot more respectable when Mabel presented it. Now we need to think of what we’re going to say to these people. We can’t just show up eating magic brownies and throwing wonky quilts at the camera.”
Morgan and I share a laugh at that one.
“That’s quite a visual.” Morgan shrugs. “But I think it just might work.”
Mom shakes her head. “I’m afraid it’s still no to the brownies.” She looks to Georgie. “But how about we head over to the bookstore and see about getting some inspiration for that book club? You never know. If we can pack ’em in to talk books, we might just be able to sell them a quilt.”
Morgan nods. “Well, if you’re heading to a bookstore anyway, you’re more than welcome to come to mine. Like I said, we’re having our end-of-season sale. And if you decide to come along, Bizzy, the pets are more than welcome, too.” She winks my way.
“Thank you for the offer,” Mom says as she presses a hand to her chest. “In fact, we’ll be there later this afternoon.”
“Perfect.” Morgan’s eyes brighten. “I’ll see you all soon.” She gives Acorn a strong hug and a kiss before feigning a sneeze. “You’re going to have a great time, ladies. Drive safely.” She waves as she heads back out into the arctic afternoon.
It looks as if I’ll get to observe Morgan Buttonwood in her natural habitat. As much as I’m looking forward to poking around at the books she’s selling, I’m far more interested in poking around in her mind.
I can’t shake the feeling that Morgan Buttonwood is hiding something.
Just what could it be?
Chapter 9
The Haunted Book Barn sits alone at the end of Main Street out in Glimmerspell like a rustic red jewel in a sea of snowy billows.
The drive to Glimmerspell was gorgeous with the army of frosty evergreens and dark clouds casting a lavender light below. There’s a covered bridge to get into town, and once you get through to the other side, it’s as if you’ve been transported to another, far more enchanting, world. The streets and sidewalks are made of cobblestone and the shops along Main Street look just as quaint and homey as Cider Cove. There’s a frozen lake in the distance and the Haunted Book Barn just to the right of that.
“This place is adorable,” my mother says as we step inside the oversized barn made over to look like a well-polished bookstore you might find sitting in just about any shopping mall. Save for the mammoth size, this place actually manages to hold a cozy appeal.
The sharp scent of new books enlivens our senses along with the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The wood floors are dark and rustic and the walls are painted a bright shade. There are about a million aisle ways filled with bookshelves with large chalkboard signs orienting you to the myriad of sections and my feet beg to run up and down every single one of them.
The registers sit to the right and just beyond that there’s an expansive magazine section and a full-blown café where they seem to be churning out espressos and lattes. There’s even a refrigerated shelving unit brimming with cakes and cookies. A smattering of wooden tables and chairs is scattered around the café area, and each one is filled with a patron reading a book. And there are more than a few patrons in here. It seems people are buzzing in just about every aisle. It’s quiet for the most part but pleasant classical music plays overhead and adds a soothing ambience to the place.
Acorn lets out a soft bark as he jumps. Here she comes, Bizzy! Morgan is heading this way. He nuzzles his nose to Sherlock’s neck. Stick with me, kid. I know where all the doggie snacks are in this place.
Snacks! Snacks! Sherlock barks up a riot.
Hush you, Fish yowls. You’re going to get us kicked out before we take ten steps inside. The sign says pets allowed, nothing about rabid wild animals prone to disturb the peace.
Sherlock growls her way. What about ornery cats? Are they allowed?
A soft laugh bounces from me as I give Fish a quick pat.
I’m about to look for Morgan when a lavender-eyed brunette laughs at the sight of us as she waves.
“Welcome to my home.” She speeds over and kisses Acorn on the snout. “And plain ol’ welcome home to you.” She gives Sherlock a quick scratch as well. “You can let them go if you like, Bizzy.” She nods to my mother and Georgie. “It’s great to see you ladies again.” She tips her chin back as she observes the new addition to our crew.
“Macy Baker,” my sister says as she shakes Morgan’s hand. Emmie had to get back to the Country Cottage Café—I’m guessing Mackenzie had something to do with it—but Macy was quick to take her place. Once she heard Georgie utter the words naughty books, there was no stopping my spicy sister. “I was your sister’s biggest fan.” There’s no way I’m telling this poor woman it was all my fault that her sister came to the inn that day. Nope. We’ll just let sleeping dogs lie. “I plan on spending all of my hard-earned money here today.” It’s the least I can do. “Just point me to the naughty books, and I’ll be on my way to making you a millionaire.”
“Ooh, me too.” Georgie raises her hand. “I had to leave Juni back at the shop in case we had a cold stray wander into that sarcophagus that I let this one talk me into.” She hitches a thumb at my mother.
Mom scoffs. “I talked you into? You’re the one who came up with the wonky quilts to begin with. And for your information, we could have let Juni tag along. God knows she’ll be the only living being in that place this afternoon. We’d make more money if we shut the place down based on the electric bill alone.”
Georgie rolls her eyes. “Juni might be the only breathing being, but she’s not alone.” She makes a face at Morgan. “Ignore Preppy here. She’s fond of disparaging the disembodied among us.”
Mom waves her off. “There are no ghosts in Cider Cove.”
“No.” Macy shrugs as she looks around. “Apparently, they’re all here. What’s with the haunting at the bookstore?”
Morgan chuckles before the smile melts off her face. “When my sister and I were young, our mother passed away. It was a terrible time, but my sister used to try to comfort me by saying she could see our mother’s ghost. And coincidentally, she always said she saw her ghost here.” She sighs. “In a strange way, it did bring me comfort. And once we were old enough to run this place, we thought we’d rename it. I can assure you there are no ghosts here, but if you call me out on it, I’m afraid I’ll have to deny it.”
We share a warm laugh.
Macy nods just past Morga
n. “The memorial is beautiful.”
I quickly glance in that direction, and sure enough, there’s a small table with a giant framed picture of Morgan in all her wild glory, looking as sassy as can be. Bouquets of flowers surround the portrait and there looks to be a journal where people can leave their condolences.
“My co-workers put that together. My sister was loved, and she will forever be missed.” Morgan sniffs hard before looking to Macy. “Now, I believe you were looking for naughty books. We don’t sell anything too risqué, but we have a spicy romance section guaranteed to burn a hole into any mattress if you leave that book lying around for too long. They’re right over there.” She points to the left and both Macy and Georgie are off to the races.” She laughs. “How about you, ladies?”
Mom lifts a finger. “I’ll take the mystery section. Preferably mysteries with talking pets.” She grabs Fish from the cat carrier. “Sorry, Bizzy, but I’m cold and I could use a little company in here—just in case we run into a ghost.”
Morgan lands her palm over Fish’s head. “What you’re looking for, Ree, are cozy mysteries. It’s a wildly popular genre. Third aisle behind you and to the left. You’ll know you’re in the right section when you see cute cats just like this one on the cover. Actually, I bet Fish could be on a cover or two. She’s definitely cover model material.”
Hear that, Sherlock? I’m cover model material! she mewls over at him just as Mom sails off with her.
“Thank you,” she says as the two of them disappear.
Morgan gives Sherlock a quick scratch on the back.
“I know animals well enough to know Fish was speaking to you. Don’t worry, Sherlock Bones. You’re cover model material, too.” She looks my way. “How about you, Bizzy? What genre suits your mood?”
“Every genre. I’m a bookaholic. But mostly mysteries. I’ll peruse the new release section up front.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see that—” She cranes her neck past me. “Never mind. Some things are far more exciting if we discover them on our own. Would you mind if I gave Sherlock a few treats? I know for a fact, Acorn is about to jump out of his skin.”
A Winter Tail of Woe Page 8