I wanted to argue with her, but she set the cookies on an end table and was out the door. I went back to my book, more confused than ever, and more disappointed than ever that the shop’s essence wasn’t telling me more.
Chapter Twenty
I read for another hour until there was a brisk knock on the front door of Charming Books. The Red Inkers had arrived. I jumped out of my seat and hurried over to the sales counter before going to the door. I hid the bottle of ice wine that Grant had brought me under the counter. There was no sense in reminding Sadie that Grant had been there.
Emerson sat in the middle of the coffee table with his paws tucked up under his body, and he blinked at me slowly, while Faulkner cawed and flew from the edge of the hearth to the top of the tree.
There was another bang on the front door. My cell phone rang, and I removed it from my back pocket. “Violet.” Sadie’s high-pitched voice came over the line. “Are you going to let us in for the Red Inkers meeting? It’s freezing out here. I can’t feel my toes anymore.”
“I’ll be right there,” I said, and ended the call. I did my best to clean up my papers and notes on the couch. I patted down my unruly hair, and when that didn’t work—I could feel my long strawberry waves zooming off in every direction—I twisted my hair in a messy knot on the top of my head. As I walked to the door, I rubbed grit from my eyes and pinched my cheeks to add some color to my pallor. Chief Rainwater might be on his way here or even outside with the other Red Inkers, assuming he hadn’t been caught up with the murder investigation. That would never do, since I looked like I had been hit by a truck.
I opened the door and smiled. I found Richard, Renee, and Sadie on my doorstep. I was both relieved and disappointed not to see Chief David Rainwater among them. His absence would give me more time to be presentable, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much I had been looking forward to seeing him again that evening.
The three of them trooped inside and removed their layers of coats, scarfs, hats, and gloves.
“The worst thing about winter,” Renee said, “is you practically have to disrobe as soon as you enter any building.”
Richard, who was just a few feet away from her, neatly folding his scarf in his hand before tucking it into the sleeve of his coat, blushed.
“I think winter has a certain kind of beauty,” Sadie said wistfully.
“Sadie Cunningham,” Renee said. “You could say something nice about a snake.”
“What’s wrong with snakes?” Sadie asked, confused.
“My point exactly.” Renee gave me a hug. “It’s nice to see you off campus, my friend. Wouldn’t the students be surprised if they knew we had lives outside of that place?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. I have two morning classes back to back. Both are freshman comp, and therefore, no one in either room wants to be there, including me.”
“Yes,” Richard said. “It can be a challenge to teach language arts to those who have no interest in it, but I truly believe that anyone can be a writer. I myself have worked on my craft for years, and I still see so much room for improvement.”
Renee eyed him. “Richard, your writing is very good. In my opinion, you are at the point you are ready to submit. I know I’m new to the group, but I have known you all for a very long time and feel like I can be frank. I think you are afraid to let your writing go.”
Richard’s eyes were wide behind his round glasses. “I value your opinion, of course, but I still have much work to do.”
Renee shook her head. “In any case, I’m excited to be joining this group. I’ve wanted to for a long time. Richard talks about it so much when he visits the library.”
Richard looked like he wanted to burrow through the wooden floor of Charming Books and hide. I suppressed a smile. It was clear to me that Renee was oblivious to the impact she had on the austere English professor. Sadie winked at me. She hadn’t missed it. I was relieved to see that she was back to her cheerful self after her encounter with Grant just a little while ago.
“I have read samples of all of your work as you asked me to in preparation to join the group, and I think part of my job for this group will be just to encourage you all to go for it. You are all so talented in your own genres. Now it’s time to get out there.” Renee stopped just short of pumping her fist in solidarity.
I inwardly smiled, thinking that Renee would be a welcome addition to the Red Inkers. I agreed with her assessment of everyone’s writing. There comes a time for any writer when you have to decide if you really want to share your work or keep it to yourself. None of them were going to get published if they didn’t put their work out there.
“Little Women,” Richard said as he picked up the book I had left on the coffee table. “I assume you are preparing to defend your dissertation, are you not? You have that glazed look of someone who has been studying for many hours. I know it well.”
“I thought you would be researching the murder,” Renee said. “I know you are poking you nose in where it doesn’t belong because both Lacey and Nathan are both involved.”
“Nathan’s not involved in the murder,” I said. “Not really. It just happened to happen at his family’s vineyard. I think that’s the end of his involvement with it.”
Renee shook her head. “I wouldn’t dismiss him or any of the Mortons so quickly. There has to be a reason that murder was committed at the vineyard. It seems to me it might be a message to the Mortons.”
I raised my eyebrows. Renee had a point, but the best way for me to figure out why the murder had happened at the vineyard would be to go back up there. That wasn’t something I was eager to do.
“Where is the other writer?” I asked, looking for a way to change the subject. I most certainly didn’t want to talk about Nathan with any of the Red Inkers.
“Simon should be here soon.” Richard adjusted his bow tie. “I’m quite eager to meet him. I have read his samples, and they are very good. However, just because someone can write does not mean he is a good fit for the group. We are a cohesive band, and every personality must fit in our little family of sorts.”
“I think it will be fun to have another new member of the group,” Sadie said, bouncing in her seat. “Simon will bring a new perspective and challenge us as writers. Sometimes I think we are too comfortable with where we are. We should always be evolving if we want to improve.”
“Well said,” Renee agreed. “I say that we give this young man a real shot to be part of the group. I know technically I am supposed to be trying out too, but I like to think that I have already been accepted.”
“Oh, you have, Renee,” Richard said quickly, as if he was terrified that she might think anything else. “I can vouch for you as someone who gives a wonderful critique. You push me to make my writing better with every page of mine that you review, and I was so pleased to learn that you were writing original work of you own.”
To my surprise, Renee blushed at his compliment. In all the time that I’d known her, I’d never once seen the brash and outspoken librarian blush. I hid a smile. Richard might have a real chance with the college librarian after all.
Just then, there was a timid knock on the front door.
I stood up from my seat. “It must be Simon.”
“It certainly is not Chief Rainwater,” Richard said. “He would know to come right in.”
I opened the front door and found Simon Chase on the other side. He was a tall, African-American man with a slightly hunched back as if he had been taught to be ashamed of his height. His black hair curled at the collar of his Oxford shirt and his dark-brown eyes were downcast. Simon Chase looked like he needed a hug.
“Simon?” I held out my hand for him to shake. “Violet Waverly.”
He shook my hand. “I know who you are. You own a lovely store. Every time I come in here, I feel like I never want to leave all these beautiful books.”
I smiled. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the group.” When we came to Sadie, he
fidgeted in place.
Sadie, being the sweetest person who had ever walked the face of the earth, also noticed the man’s discomfort. “We’re so glad that you’re here, Simon. We’ve all read the piece that you submitted and love it. You have a real gift.”
Sadie’s compliments only made Simon fidget more. “I’m sorry that I was late,” he said, giving the same apology he had given me earlier. “I had to work overtime.”
“What is it that you do, Simon?” Richard appraised him as he spoke. Usually Richard was far more welcoming, but the Red Inkers had been his brainchild years ago, and he was very protective of it. I could sort of imagine what he was like when he gave an oral exam now, and why my students at the community college much preferred to take tests from me.
Simon’s face turned bright red. “I’m an insurance adjuster. I live here in the village, but I work in Niagara Falls. I grew up outside of Rochester, and my family used to vacation here when I was a child. I just fell in love with the charm of this village, and when my firm wanted to move me to Niagara Falls, I knew that I wanted to live here. It’s a short drive, but it seems to be worlds away from the city.”
That was most certainly true. Cascade Springs was only a fifteen-minute drive from busy Niagara Falls, but it was like living on another planet or at least in another time when things were simpler—except for the murders, of course.
“How long have you lived here?” Sadie asked.
“About a month. I’m still getting my bearings. This is a very close-knit community. I was beginning to think that I wasn’t going to fit in.” He blushed. “I work long hours and I don’t have much chance to make new friends, and then I saw your advertisement for the critique group in the local paper. I knew that was just the way that I could find a place for myself here.”
“That’s so wonderful to hear.” Sadie beamed at him. “I’m so glad that our ad grabbed your attention and that you answered it.”
“I just hope that I don’t embarrass myself by trying to be a writer,” he said.
“You’re a writer,” Sadie corrected. “One of my writing teachers told me that the first step to actually getting published is owning the title of writer. You don’t have to be published to call yourself by that name.”
Richard nodded as if he was happy with that answer as well. “Let’s all take a seat and begin.”
We sat in the circle of folding chairs I’d set up in the middle of the room for the meeting.
Renee smiled at Simon. “If it makes you feel any better, this is my first Red Inkers meeting too. I’ve known everyone for a long time, since I’ve lived in the village for a good while, but this is the first time I have shared my writing with any of them.”
“I’m still surprised that not one of us knew you wrote, Renee,” Sadie said.
She laughed. “I thought it was common knowledge that one out of five librarians has a dusty manuscript hidden in his or her desk. What do your write, Simon?”
He glanced this way and that as if he was looking for the nearest exit. Faulkner looming above him in the tree couldn’t have helped his anxiety. “I write poetry mostly.”
Sadie smiled. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to have local poetry reading here at Charming Books sometime? It will be a way to showcase all the talent in the village.”
Richard nodded. “I have some free verse that I would love to read.”
“I—I don’t know that I could read my poems to the entire village,” Simon stammered. “It took all I had to send you a sample to be considered for this group.”
Sadie smiled. “It was so brave of you to come. I know the first time I came to a meeting, I was scared to death, but you will grow to love it. The Red Inkers is like a family.”
“Family is what I need,” Simon said, giving Sadie his first real smile of the night.
It could have been just me, but I had a sneaking suspicion that insurance adjuster Simon could grow to love Sadie too. Kind, stable, he had a great job, and he was responsible. He checked all the boxes. I glanced at Sadie, and a kernel of an idea began to form. She smiled pleasantly at Simon, completely unaware of the number of times he sneaked a peek in her direction when he thought no one was watching. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if Cupid was hovering somewhere in the shop ready and waiting to strike, and I couldn’t have been happier about it.
Chapter Twenty-One
We were halfway through the Red Inkers meeting when there was another knock on the front door of Charming Books. Renee, who was reading from her novel, stopped midsentence.
“Who could that be at this time of night?” Richard asked.
“I’ll get it; you all keep going with your meeting,” I said.
I walked to the front door and heard Renee reading again. I opened the door to find Chief David Rainwater standing on the other side. He wore jeans, boots, a heavy winter coat, and a blue stocking cap on the top of his head. His hands were buried deep in his jeans pockets, and he rocked back on his heels. He smiled at me, but the smile didn’t reach his amber eyes, which looked as if they threatened to close due to sheer exhaustion. “Is the meeting still going?”
I stepped back and let him in the shop. “Renee is reading her piece right now. They’ll be so glad you’re here. No one expected you, considering …”
He glanced at me. “Are you glad I’m here too?”
Before I could answer, Richard called out, “David, how wonderful that you made it. We were just listening to Renee’s piece. Come and meet Simon.”
Rainwater glanced at me before he went over and joined the group. I took a deep breath. I didn’t know if I was happy or disappointed that Richard hadn’t given me a chance to answer Rainwater’s question.
Rainwater held out his hand to the other man and stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
Simon blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
Richard chuckled uncomfortably. “David, what is the matter?”
“I saw this man earlier today in Niagara Falls.”
Simon looked like he might be ill. “Yes, I remember. You were the police officer who came to our office with questions about a life insurance plan.”
I stepped forward. “Who was the life insurance for?” I asked.
Simon shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
I looked to Rainwater, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. This had to be about Belinda.
“Well,” Richard said. “Let’s continue on with the meeting.”
We took out seats, and Renee continued to read her piece, which was very well written, but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was Belinda’s murder, and I was dying to know what Rainwater had spoken to Simon about at his office. I wasn’t sure that either man would tell me though.
“Well,” Richard said, snapping me out of my daze. “Renee and Simon, I must say you both seem to be a fine addition to our group, and we’re very happy to have you join. We meet twice a week right here at Charming Books. We’re so lucky that Violet can provide such a nice place for us to gather. Next time, I believe it will be Sadie’s turn to share.”
Sadie stood up and hugged her notebook to her chest. Tonight she wore a tea dress with butterflies fluttering all over the fabric. Her black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. “I can’t wait to share my latest revision of my book right now.” She paused. “I think I’m ready to send it out on submission to agents.”
“My goodness, Sadie,” Richard said. “That’s quite a big step.”
Sadie glanced at me. “Like Renee said, we aren’t going to be published without putting our stuff out there. I really feel like the book is as good as I can make it.”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Simon said. “I’m looking forward to reading it.” He blushed.
I bit the inside of my lip to hold back the smile.
Everyone started to pack up their things. I packed the last of the cookies from the meeting and set them on a paper plate on the sales counter. I noted that Richard had cornered Rain
water in a conversation. This was my chance to speak with Simon if I didn’t want the police chief interfering.
Simon started to fold up his chair, but I stopped him. “I can take that. I know you all want to get home soon on such a cold night. What did you think of the group?”
He smiled. “The group is fantastic. I feel so encouraged and energized to go home and write. This was really the shot in the arm I needed.”
“That’s wonderful. I think both you and Renee will bring new life to the group too.”
He blushed. “Thank you. I’m just happy about meeting more people in the village. All I do is work, and I realized that I was working my life away. I have to make room in my life for other things and for other people.” His face turned a burnt-red color. “That was quite a speech. I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “No need to apologize. It’s one I needed to hear. Before I moved to the village, I was living like a robot. This place changes you and reminds you of what’s really important. You’ll see.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Across the room, I saw Rainwater watching me over Richard’s head. I looked away as Simon pulled on his coat.
“I just had a question before you leave,” I said.
“Oh?” he asked.
“It’s about the insurance business. Do the police often visit your offices?”
His brow furrowed. “No. I work for a large national insurance company. We have offices all over. The police chief’s visit today was the first time that I had any dealings with law enforcement.”
“Were you able to help him?”
He picked up his notebook from a nearby bookshelf. “I can’t really talk about anything relating to a client policy.”
“So, he was there about a client’s policy?” I asked.
Simon shifted from foot to foot.
Sadie bounced over to us holding the plate of cookies. “Simon, we all agree that you should take the last of the cookies home.”
Murders and Metaphors Page 14