Prologue to Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  By the time Pippi had finished her business and she was done cleaning it up, there was no sign of Dean on the road. She picked Pippi up in her arms and headed back into her shop, where Gloria greeted her.

  “Addie, you are a saint. Thank you so much.” She took the little dog from her. “I hope she behaved. You did, didn’t you?” She kissed and tickled the dog while it excitedly lapped at her face.

  “Yes, she was wonderful. We had fun.”

  “And look what I’ve found.” Gloria swept her hand over the stack of books on the counter. “All twenty Pippi Longstocking publications. You weren’t joking when you said you had the entire collection,” she laughed. “Some of these I’ve never seen before.”

  “I’m just glad you found something of interest.”

  “Did I ever,” she cried. “I’ve hit the jackpot. I’ll take them all.”

  Addie smiled. “Great, I’ll just ring them up for you.”

  “I forgot in my excitement why I came in here today.”

  “I’m guessing it wasn’t to add to your home library,” she chuckled.

  “No. Dorothy asked me to pop in and see if you had received the copies of June’s book from the printer yet. And darling Paige here told me they came in just today.”

  “Yes. Did she want some of them for the library?”

  “Well, yes, she wants some, but not for the library. They’re for the Smuggler’s Den restaurant.”

  “Have they agreed to host the finale to the ghost walk?”

  “Yes.” Gloria beamed. “And they want one to display for advertising the event, then thought maybe a dozen or so to sell on the side.”

  “Tell you what. I’m happy to donate the one for advertising, since it’s for the town, and then another twelve, providing all proceeds from the sales are used as fundraising for the library.”

  “Perfect.” She clapped her hands. “Dorothy will be tickled.”

  “Paige—”

  “I’m on it.” Paige made her way over to the book cart and scooped up an armful of books she hadn’t shelved yet and placed a dozen copies of The Ghosts and Mysteries of Greyborne Harbor on the counter beside Gloria’s other purchases. “Will you be taking all of these with you today?”

  Addie jumped when her cell vibrated in her jeans pocket. “Sorry.” She looked at Gloria and chuckled. “I forgot it was there, and it tickled.” She smiled when she saw it was from Simon. So, all was forgotten and forgiven after all. She read the message, stopped, and then read it again.

  Jeanie’s blood work was positive for mixture.

  Called her to tell her not to drink any more of the tea. Just said it might be contaminated. Did not tell her with what. She is furious with Serena for selling bad tea and on her way over there. Just thought I should warn you.

  “Oh, no.” Addie looked out the window just as Jeanie stomped past.

  “I hope it’s not bad news?” Gloria followed her gaze to the window.

  “No, just unexpected. Paige, will you finish up here? I have to go for a minute. Thanks again, Gloria. Loved meeting Pippi. See you at the next book club meeting.” She waved as she dashed out the door.

  Addie flung Serena’s tea shop door open and stepped inside. She heard Jeanie’s raised voice before her eyes adjusted to the change of light and she saw her at the back counter, wagging her finger in Serena’s face. Addie made her way toward them across the (thankfully empty) shop, but a movement out of the corner of her eye when she passed by the storeroom doorway caught her attention. Lacey was counting out what looked like hundred-dollar bills and placing them in Dean’s outstretched hand. She looked at her friend whose face was crumbling further with every word Jeanie shouted at her. She glanced back at Lacey, who appeared oblivious to what was happening in the front. She’d deal with Lacey later. As nonchalantly as possible, she slid onto a stool beside Jeanie where she was standing at the counter.

  “Have you come for an afternoon pick-me-up tea, too, Jeanie?” Addie tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at the daily blackboard special on the wall. “I think I’ll have a Heavenly Delight.” She smiled and looked at Jeanie, whose temple veins pulsated with anger.

  Jeanie snapped her mouth closed and glared at Serena. “I’m not finished with you yet. I’ll make sure you are put out of business by the health department.”

  Serena looked at Addie, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Is there a problem, Jeanie?” Addie’s brow creased as she looked at her and then at Serena.

  “You might say that. This child playing with all of her roots and herbs has sold me tea that is contaminated. It could have killed me, I’m sure.”

  “We can’t have that. Is that true, Serena?”

  Serena’s eyes widened, and she looked in horror at Addie and shook her head.

  “Are you certain the tea came from Serena’s shop? After all, there are other tea merchants in the county.”

  “It had her label on it.” Jeanie crossed her arms and glared at Serena.

  Serena wilted and shuffled backward.

  “So you bought it here. I guess that proves its origins.” Addie looked at Serena, then glanced at Jeanie while toying with a napkin on the counter.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh?” Addie looked at her. “Who did, then?”

  “I don’t know. I found it at Mother’s.”

  “I see.” Addie stroked her neck. “So, June bought it?”

  “Well, I assume so.” She looked down her nose at Addie, tapping her foot.

  Addie turned to Serena. “Didn’t you tell me that a man with salt-and-pepper-colored hair came in and bought that special blend of tea as a gift for a woman friend of his who was having trouble sleeping?”

  A wave of understanding crossed Serena’s face, and she nodded. “Yes—he was quite insistent that he wanted a special tea for the special woman in his life, and he even had me put it in a silver gift box for her.”

  “Wrapped with a blue satin ribbon, wasn’t it?” Addie added.

  Jeanie’s face dropped.

  “Perhaps he gave it to June and knows how it became contaminated after it left Serena’s shop?” Addie twisted the napkin in her hand. “Do you still have his contact info in your records, Serena? Maybe we could track him down and find out if he accidentally spilled it in the dirt before he could give it to her, or maybe a pet cat got into it when he had it at his home, or something.” She shrugged her shoulders. “That might explain a lot. It’s worth checking out. I really hate to think that Serena sold a tainted product.”

  Jeanie’s reddened face turned ashen. She spun on her heel and fled out the door.

  “Can I have my tea now?” She winked at Serena.

  Dean rushed into the front of the store and headed out the door. Lacey appeared in the storeroom doorway, looked at Addie sitting at the counter, and then looked at Serena’s grinning face. “What’s she doing in here?”

  “Excuse me?” Serena looked at her.

  “Riffraff,” she muttered. “Well, at least she won’t be around for much longer.” She turned back into the storeroom and slammed the door.

  “I see your cover’s still intact,” Addie whispered and rolled her eyes.

  A devious smile crept across Serena’s face. “And I’ve decided to tell her this shop isn’t big enough for the two of us, and it’s time she—”

  Lacey burst through the storeroom door and headed for the main entrance. “Marc’s here. I’m gone for the rest of the day.” The door banged behind her.

  “Finally,” Serena moaned, slumping onto her stool behind the counter.

  Addie shook her head. “I guess Marc managed to salvage his cover, too?” She fought the flush just speaking his name brought to her cheeks.

  Serena nodded. “She thinks so little of you that she can’t conceive of you being a threat to what she has with him or me. Although I can’t help feeling guilty about what I’m doing. She was my friend.”

  “Was she? Ever?” Addie growled
. “You know the real her now.”

  “Speaking of what I’m doing, I wish you’d given me a heads-up with that whole Jeanie thing. It took me long enough to see what you were up to. I was furious with you, thinking you had taken her side.”

  “I really couldn’t have warned you, could I? She was in accusation mode when I walked in. I needed to act fast and then plant a few poisonous seeds of my own before she ruined your business.”

  “Whatever you said sure stopped her.”

  “Yes, I think Steven will have some explaining to do now,” she chuckled. “I’d better text Marc and tell him to call me later. He should know about this, and about what I saw in the park today.”

  “What’s that?” Serena offered Addie a scone from the covered tray on the counter.

  She shook her head. “Let’s just say that there is no question that Dean knows Steven—aka Peter, if we’re right about Steven’s true identity. They had a meeting by the utility shed, of all places, this afternoon.”

  “Really?” Serena took a bite of her scone.

  “Speaking of Dean, if you’re going to fire Lacey, check your till and back room safe first.”

  “Why?”

  “When Jeanie was ripping into you, I saw Lacey hand him a large amount of money.”

  Serena reached over to her till and pressed the No Sale button. The drawer popped open. Empty.

  “When’s the last time you made a bank deposit?”

  “Not for a few weeks, but I don’t really know. Lacey’s been looking after the finances lately.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No . . . but that’s when I thought she was a trusted friend. Oh God.” She dashed into the storeroom and returned moments later, clutching a note in her hand, her face sheet-white.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Addie took off her work wear and slipped into her black, cropped yoga pants, a sports bra, and a green tank top. She cat-stretched and moaned. Good God, it felt great to finally be in comfortable clothes. It had been a long day, and a quiet evening reviewing June’s manuscript was the perfect way to end it.

  She grabbed her phone from the bedside table, trotted down the stairs to the kitchen to make some coffee, and headed to the living room to retrieve June’s book draft and the first-edition pirate book from her hiding place under the floorboards by her aunt’s desk. Cross-legged on the sofa, she breathed a sigh of relief and settled back into the comfy cushions. After quickly checking her cell, hoping to find a returned message from Marc, she frowned, tossed her phone on the sofa beside her, pulled the manuscript onto her lap, and began reading.

  She skimmed through the early chapters, since they were mainly a recap of the town history and its strong roots in the pirate trade, similar to what had been published in the book. However, she paused when she came to a more detailed account of the Greyborne-Davenport family feud. Apparently, when Henry Davenport trudged to the gallows, he turned toward Gerald Greyborne where he was standing among the crowd, looked him in the eye, and cursed him and the Greyborne family name for eternity. A shiver ran through her, and she wrapped her arms around her knees.

  She instantly thought about Lacey and her behavior toward her; it was similar to the attitude that Martha’d had since the first day Addie had introduced herself. Perhaps there was another branch of the Davenport family she wasn’t aware of? When the doorbell buzzed, she jumped and looked at the mantel clock. Eight o’clock. She tried to remember if she was expecting anyone. Then she laughed—in all the time she’d lived here, only one person had used the antiquated door ringer. She smiled as she opened the door and was greeted by Simon’s schoolboy grin.

  “I hope you don’t mind my stopping by. I was in the area.”

  “I’m not buying that, since it’s a dead-end road, but come in.” She stood back, allowing him to enter. “I was just reading June’s manuscript and need a break anyway. Can I get you something?”

  “Yes, that would be perfect. It was a busy shift.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “Not unless you find patients vomiting on your shoes of interest.” He stepped past her into the living room.

  “What?”

  “Stomach flu is sweeping through the town.” He laid his overcoat on the chair at the far end of the sofa, making it clear he had no intention of sitting in the chair this time.

  “What you would like? It sounds like there’s a need for something stronger than coffee.” She headed to the liquor cart.

  “Scotch neat, if you have it?”

  “The neat I can do, the Scotch? . . . Umm . . .” She searched the second shelf of the cart.

  “Smart-ass.” He made himself comfortable on the sofa. “Anything you have will do.”

  “Never mind. I found some Scotch,” she said and proceeded to pour two glasses.

  He reached his hand out to take the drink from her over the back of the sofa. “Thank you. Now show me what else you found.”

  “It’s all here on the cart if you want something else.”

  “I meant the manuscript.” He grinned and missed his mouth with the drink. “Looks like I have a hole in my lip.”

  She set her drink down on the desk, pulled a clean tissue from the box beside it and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” He wiped his chin and blotted his shirtfront. “I hope I don’t get any calls tonight. It’s not good for a doctor to show up stinking of Scotch.”

  “I can well imagine.” She called over her shoulder as she went into the front hall to retrieve the book she’d dropped on the table when she’d answered the door. “It certainly wouldn’t instill much confidence with your patients,” she said from the living room doorway.

  “Especially if they required surgery.” He stretched his long legs out under the table, and settled back, watching her as she flipped through the pages of the manuscript.

  Addie quivered under his unwavering gaze and presented the pages to him. His eyes locked with hers. “Do you want me to come all the way over there to get them?”

  She dropped her eyes. If she looked up at him now, she’d give away the silly, teenage-girl-style infatuation that stirred inside her whenever he set eyes on her. Then it hit her. That was it. Marc, like David, masked his emotions and rarely gave away what he was really thinking, but was strong, solid, dependable, and safe, with just enough of a hint of danger surrounding him to make it exciting. Simon was open about his emotions, candid about what was on his mind. He was outgoing and impetuous, constantly moving her out of her comfort zone, which was scary and thrilling at the same time.

  She slid into the spot he patted beside him. She handed him the manuscript without looking at him and sat back, her hands on her lap, aware that his eyes were still on her.

  He sighed, looked down at the page she indicated, and began reading. “So, you’re cursed?” He looked sideways at her. “I always knew there was something off about you.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut when he turned and winked at her . . . and there it was again. That sea-blue wave that washed over her, consuming her, and she leapt to her feet. “Ready for another drink, or is coffee on the menu now?” She moved toward the desk and picked up her drink, untouched, and set it on the liquor cart. “You know, in case you get called out.”

  “No, I’m good, but thanks.”

  She remained at the liquor cart, toying with her glass.

  He began reading again and then looked at her over the back of the sofa. “Is everything okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sensing that it’s not. Want to talk about it?”

  She rubbed her hands over her face. Where would she start? How could she tell him how confused he made her feel? Instead, she bit her tongue, changed her line of thought, and took a deep breath. “I guess it’s the whole curse thing.”

  “You really don’t believe in them, do you?”

  “No, I don’t, but curses come from the power that those who do believe in them have. What if Lace
y is aware of this, and that’s what’s driving her in her quest to destroy me?” She stood in front of him. “Maybe it has nothing to do with her trying to win Marc back, but has everything to do with her attempt to destroy a Greyborne, because . . . because of that.” She pointed to the book.

  “Maybe.” He stroked his chin. “But I still think that she is trying to create a news story that will propel her failed career into the spotlight again, and she thinks she’s found one, or has created one herself. She needed someone with a recognizable name behind them to achieve that. I mean, if she’d gone after, let’s say, someone like Martha, then outside Greyborne Harbor, no one would be interested. But accusing one of the members of a town’s founding family—well, that’s big news everywhere.”

  Addie spun around and walked toward the window. “Maybe you’re right. It just gave me a couple of other things to consider.”

  “Like what?”

  “You mentioned Martha.” She turned toward him. “She’s a perfect example. She’s disliked me from the very second I introduced myself to her. Why?”

  “Could be lots of reasons—she was in a bad mood, you reminded her of someone else she had a falling-out with?” He shrugged. “It could be any number of things going on with her.”

  “Yes, but . . . maybe she’s a Davenport.”

  “It could be. Stringer is her married name, isn’t it?”

  “Most likely.” She bit her lip. “I’ll ask Paige tomorrow.”

  “You’ll be discreet. I hope. You don’t need to start rumors of curses and feuds with her, too.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Good. Shall we get back to the facts of the manuscript and see what else we can come up with?” He opened it to the next page and began reading.

  She shook her head, began pulling the window curtains closed, and froze in mid-motion. Marc was walking toward the front door. She looked back at Simon, still focused on reading. This was exactly what she didn’t need tonight—another showdown. She managed to count to five before the dreaded knock came. Simon glanced up at her. She shrugged her shoulders, feigning ignorance, and went to the door with him close on her heels.