“You’d still need a ride home.”
“I’ll call Uber.”
Meg’s frustration finally boiled over. “How do you know about Uber? And for your information, Ravenwood Cove doesn’t even have Uber. We’re too small.”
There was a bit of mutual grumbling as the granddaughter and grandmother faced off against each other, clenching jaws that shared a definite family resemblance. Finally, Mrs. Granger gave in.
“Fine. I’ll have Amanda give me a ride if they kick me out again.”
“Good,” from Meg.
“Fine,” Mrs. Granger said.
“FINE.” Meg spit out, stomping into the theater.
By the time they were seated, the argument seemed to have blown over. To keep it from starting up again, Amanda had seated herself between Meg and Mrs. Granger. Amanda waved at Mrs. Mason, who was walking by and juggling two huge tubs of popcorn and a large soda, and then chatted with Mrs. Granger, all while keeping an eye out for Lisa. It didn’t take long before she saw her friend walking down the main aisle with the local bookstore owner, Truman. They were so absorbed in their conversation that at first they didn’t see the group of friends, even with Mrs. Granger waving madly.
Lisa flopped into a chair behind Amanda, frustration evident on every line of her face. “Guess what that nephew of mine did now,” she began, apparently addressing all of them. Without bothering to let them answer, she went on. “He got picked up by Chief Ortiz, down at Sandford Lake with that Simmons girl. Guess what they were doing?”
Mrs. Granger piped up gleefully, “Necking, I would hope.”
Lisa pointedly ignored her. “So now I have to deal with angry parents about why Sage is corrupting the youth of Ravenwood Cove, and I have no idea what to do.” Her eyes narrowed. “This is why I was never a parent. It just gets too…weird.”
Clutching his popcorn and licorice, Truman flipped down the bottom of the theater seat and sat beside her. “Nah, it’s not weird at all,” he said, offering her some candy. “It’s totally natural. He’s doing what all young guys wish they could do. That’s all.”
“He could’ve been arrested.”
“I don’t think so. He’s not hurting anything, and the cops know that. You just need to keep him busy.”
A sudden thought sprung into Amanda’s head. “Yeah, Lisa, keep him busy,” she said, jerking her chin toward Truman, who was busy digging napkins out of his pocket. “Maybe Truman can help with that.”
Lisa knit her eyebrows together in confusion. “I don’t see how.”
Turning a bit in her seat, Amanda addressed Truman directly. “Truman, didn’t you say you needed someone to help out, now that the bookstore is so busy and you’re going to be getting the bike and kite shop ready for spring?”
“Yeah, it’s getting pretty crazy at my place,” he said, apparently not realizing Amanda was setting him up. “I could really use someone to take some of the workload. I’m not getting much sleep these days.” He squinted a bit, finally noticing Amanda’s focused expression and cheesy grin. It took a second, but at last he figured out why she was looking at him like that.
“Hey! Wait a minute! I never said I’d hire –“he sputtered, holding his hands up as if in self-defense. “I was thinking about hiring one of the locals, and–“
Amanda interrupted him. “You don’t need anyone full-time and you don’t need anyone skilled. You were telling me the other day you needed someone to receive in shipments and straighten up both stores, isn’t that right?”
Truman slumped in his chair. “Maybe,” he admitted.
“Well, how about you give Sage a trial run? If he can keep going to school, maybe a job would be just the sort of thing he needs.” She gestured at Truman. “He said he’s trying to save up for a car. You remember what that was like when you were younger, don’t you?”
Lisa didn’t look too happy about the car issue being brought up, but she kept quiet while Amanda continued. “How about a one-day test run?”
Truman seemed to be considering the proposal. “I have a big shipment coming on Tuesday. Could he be there at four?”
Just then the room lights dimmed and the first movie trailer flared to life on the screen, stopping their conversation. Within a minute, Mrs. Granger had leaned over to whisper loudly at Amanda.
“Did you tell Mrs. Sandford that she’s your kin, yet?”
Just hearing the words made Amanda’s stomach flip over. “Not yet,” she said, still watching the screen.
“Well, honey, you’d better get on it. Our historical society is pretty good about keeping secrets, but just in case I think you should tell her before things get out.”
Amanda let out a deep sigh. “Fine.”
“When?” the old lady asked, obviously intent on getting an answer.
“I’ll go see her tomorrow,” Amanda whispered back hoarsely. “And may God have mercy on my soul.”
Chapter 13
Normally a trip to downtown Ravenwood Cove would be fun, but today Amanda was gritting her teeth as she got out of her car. She wrestled the heavy canvas bag off the passenger seat, finally pausing to wave a cheery hello to Grace TwoHorses, who was just setting up the chalkboard sign and dog water bowl outside Kazoodles Toy Store.
“Out of all the people in all the towns in all the world, why did it have to be this person who turns out to be a relative of mine?” she muttered under her breath, sighing deeply as she put her hand on the door handle of the Sandford Gallery.
Inside, the carefully-coiffed blond woman she’d seen before came to greet her. “Thank you for visiting,” she practically purred, holding out a manicured hand. “Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for today?”
“I need to speak to Mrs. Sandford, please.”
The blonde’s face remained unchanged. “And about what is this concerning?”
Amanda felt frumpy and out of place, so maybe that’s why she almost snapped back at the elegant young woman. “Personal business. I think she’d prefer that I not discuss it too much, if you know what I mean.”
The saleswoman looked over Amanda’s casual outfit and lack of makeup. “I see,” she said. The smile she’d held so carefully on her face before was starting to melt away. “I’ll let her know.”
While she waited, Amanda walked around the store, looking at the beautiful paintings and sculptures and admiring the fine jewelry in the glass cases. Mrs. Sandford had always said that the usual beach antique stores were tacky and full of cheap knickknacks, and it was just like her to make sure that everything she was selling was of the highest quality.
“What can I do for you, Miss Graham?”
Amanda would know that voice anywhere. She’d heard it when the former mayor was telling her why she was going to be practically penniless, and after the tall woman had told her that Amanda was hysterical. She’d even heard it resounding through some of her tangled dreams when she’d been trying to make a place for herself in Ravenwood Cove, and when she’d first considered Mayor Sandford her enemy.
“So, I have something that I think belongs to you, or at least to your family.” Amanda pulled out the huge bible and laid it on the immaculate glass counter. “I found this in the staircase when I was remodeling the Inn. Your maiden name is Pringle, right?”
Mrs. Sandford leaned over, adjusting her eyeglasses to peer at the old book. “Yes, but I don’t have any idea what this is. I’m certainly not taking books on consignment.”
Amanda carefully opened the cover and flipped to the page with the handwritten record of weddings and births. “Is this your grandmother, Hortense Pringle?”
The old lady showed a flicker of interest. “Yes, the original Hortense Pringle. I’m named after her.”
Amanda pointed at an entry written in swirling brown ink. “So, this line shows that she had a son and a daughter. This is my grandmother, Eileen Pringle Ascott.”
It took a bit for that information to seep into Mrs. Sandford’s brain, but Amanda could tell the
split second it did.
“You mean we, I mean, you mean you–“ she stammered, until Amanda helped her out.
“We’re cousins.”
The explosion was anything but ladylike. “Like hell we are!”
Amanda sighed. “Look, I know that being related to me has got to gall you, and I can’t help that. If I’m reading this right it makes us second cousins.”
“You are incorrect.” The older lady stood up straight, her composure back in place as she set a blue-veined hand on the open bible. “It seems that we are first cousins once removed.”
“First cousins once removed.” Amanda rolled the phrase over in her mind, knowing that the next thing she said wouldn’t make Mrs. Sandford happy at all. “I guess that means we’re family.” It was true she didn’t need to say it, but it actually felt good to poke the old lady a bit.
She got a glacial stare in return. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”
Amanda slowly shut the bible. “I’m sure.”
“So, Miss Graham, you’re saying I’m related to someone who’s named after a type of cracker. How charming.” The former mayor’s thin lips flexed upward in a bitter smile.
Amanda glared at her. “Says the woman whose family name is also a brand of potato chips.”
There was a moment of stubborn silence as the two women, jaws clenched in mutual frustration, glared at each other. Finally, Mrs. Sandford stepped back and sighed.
“Who else knows about this?”
“The historical society. They’re the ones who caught the connection when they were looking over the entries in the bible.”
“So Mrs. Granger was there?” Mrs. Sandford threw up her hands in annoyance. “Great. That means the entire town knows about it by now. I shall expect to see it printed on the front page of the Ravenwood Tide tomorrow, if it already isn’t strung up a ten-foot banner tied to the pillars of city hall.”
Even though she wasn’t thrilled to be related to such a cranky old broad, Amanda still felt kind of insulted by Mrs. Sandford’s horror at her discovery.
“Look, I’m not happy about this either. We don’t exactly get along that well. I know that. I just thought you’d want to have the bible, and it seemed only fair that I tell you the truth about what I found out regarding the people who owned it.”
Mrs. Sandford was silent, obviously considering Amanda’s statement. She finally laid a hand on the sculpted leather cover of the old book. “I appreciate you bringing me this, but apparently it belongs to you just as much as it does to me. You can have it, if you want.”
Another rejection, as if giving the book back to Amanda would somehow take back the truth of them sharing a bloodline. Amanda carefully wrapped the bible in the cloth and stowed it in the canvas bag to take it home. “I appreciate that. Thank you. I was thinking about displaying it in the Inn, so the guests could hear the story about how it was found inside the old staircase.” She straightened up, almost feeling sorry for the bitter woman in front of her. “It belongs to both of us. You can always come visit it, if you want.”
Mrs. Sandford stood silently, blinking for a long moment. “Perhaps I will. Someday.”
Shouldering her bag, Amanda pulled her coat together. “Well, I hope you have a good day.” When she got to the door she turned slightly and asked the one question that she knew would bother Mrs. Sandford the most.
“Does this mean I get to call you Cousin Hortense now?”
Closing the door behind her, she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as she heard the loud exclamation from inside the shop.
Chapter 14
“So, tell us about this hand you found. Today’s paper said it belonged to Nelson King. Who do you think murdered him?” Ian Victor’s expression was expectant.
Amanda nearly choked on the brownie she’d just stuffed in her mouth. The eyes of every member in the book club were fixed on her, waiting for her response while they balanced small plates of goodies on their laps. There were a dozen people in the large front parlor of the Ravenwood Inn, perched on every available chair and sofa she had. The room was warm and smelled of wet wool. The folks there were supposedly interested in reviewing books but it seemed they were actually much more interested in what was going on around town. Taking a quick gulp, Amanda tried to answer Ian’s question.
“The police never said it was murder, just a death under suspicious circumstances. They’re investigating it and that’s all I know. I wasn’t even aware that the paper had released the name of the victim.”
Mrs. Bitterman nodded. “Just this morning. It must be terrible for his family, poor things. Tea?”
It was true that when Amanda had first thought of putting together a book club that would meet at the Inn, she hadn’t considered that sometimes it was like herding cats to get them to actually talk about books. This was only their second meeting, and the conversation had devolved into Nelson King’s death before the coffee had even been poured.
“Thank you, no tea,” she responded. “What else did the article say?”
“Just that he was from Likely and that he was an avid hunter. I guess his girlfriend reported him missing. Lots of people in Ravenwood knew him, though.” Truman pulled plastic wrap off a plate of dark chocolate fudge. “Here, I brought this. It’s a family recipe. Everyone dig in.”
“I know he used to sell firewood around town about a year ago, and didn’t he work at the fish store for a while?” Mr. Orwin asked.
“Less than a week,” Mrs. Mason responded with a snort of derision. “Madeline said he had a terrible mouth on him and she had to let him go. Wasn’t he going out with Jennifer Peetman last year?”
Amanda cut her off. “I’m not sure. From what I hear he got around town a fair amount. Doughnut?” she said, offering a plate of goodies to the plump baker.
“I thought we were supposed to be talking about The Life of Pi,” Mrs. Granger piped up from the seat of her walker. She waved her plate in the air. “Would someone get me a piece of fudge, please, and one of those frosted pink cookies?”
“It matches your hair!” little Danielle Ortiz added with a gap-toothed grin. Her mother instantly shushed her and Danielle looked confused. “What did I say? I think her hair’s pretty, like one of my troll dolls.”
There was a sound of smothered laughter as several people tried not to be rude, but Mrs. Granger took it all in stride.
“Thank you, Danielle. I think it’s pretty, too.” She glared at the adults who were now trying to keep straight faces, and held her head high. “I consider myself a trendsetter in this town, and I fully expect you all to follow suit. Colored hair on everyone, just like me and Truman.”
Truman, his hair dyed a deep green, shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. If you all do that, I’m going back to just natural brown. A guy’s gotta stand out somehow.”
Mrs. Granger nodded, obviously agreeing. “Lydia did exactly what I told her to do, didn’t you dear? And I think she did a very nice job.”
Lydia Pine, the town’s lone hairdresser, had been completely quiet but seemed to perk up when she heard she was being defended. “Yes, Mrs. Granger, I did what you told me to do, and I think it’s rather becoming.”
Ian picked up his book. “Can we get back to book talk, please? I spent all day yesterday reading this stupid story and I’d like to see if anyone understands it better than I do.”
Mrs. Bitterman’s mind was obviously elsewhere. “Who was his girlfriend, anyway? The paper didn’t say. You’d think she’d be from around here.” She looked at the group, her eyes full of sympathy. “She’s gotta be having a rough time of it, too.”
Amanda instantly thought of poor Petunia and their talk in her kitchen. The girl’s anguish had been very real, and she made a mental note to stop in to talk to her in a day or two.
Mr. Orwin poured himself a big cup of coffee and dumped two spoonfuls of sugar in it. “You know, if that dead fella you found had trouble at sea, where’s his boat? You would think that it would’ve washed up int
o the Cove by now.”
“Not if it sank or if it went farther out to sea,” Ian said, shaking his head. “You know how bad those riptides can get. It might be all the way to Hawaii for all we know.”
Mr. Orwin seemed unconvinced. “Well, then how come just a part of him showed up at the Cove?”
Always the concerned parent, Mrs. Ortiz diverted Danielle’s attention with a mug of juice and gave Mr. Orwin the evil eye. “Let’s keep the topics appropriate for all ages, all right?” she asked with a smile but no humor in her eyes, and Mr. Orwin instantly nodded in contrite agreement.
“So, are you helping in the investigation?” Mrs. Mason asked, and the chitchat around her died instantly as people strained to hear her response. Amanda shook her head, knowing that whatever she said would be around town in less than an hour.
“No, it’s completely out of my hands. I’m not involved in it at all. No more adventures for me.”
By the time the conversation had turned toward speculation about how big the salmon run was going to be this year and whether it was safe to plant spring peas yet, Amanda had given up trying to get the group back on topic. The book club meeting had become a party with snacks, and the poor Life of Pi was just going to have to wait.
“How’s Sage doing at the store?” Mrs. Granger asked Truman, who was explaining one of his tattoos to a fascinated Danielle.
Giving the last piece of fudge to the eight-year-old as a dismissal, Truman had a serious look on his face when he answered Mrs. Granger. “You know, he’s actually not doing too bad. He shows up on time and as long as I have something for him to do he works pretty hard. The only problem I have with him is trying to keep him out of the art books.”
“Really?” Mrs. Granger asked, and Truman nodded.
“Apparently, he’s a huge art fan. He’s been fixated on this one book I have of treasures of the Louvre. I can’t hardly get his nose outta that thing.”
Mrs. Granger turned toward Amanda, a plot obviously forming. “Well, we’ll just have to make sure that his aunt knows he’s got an interest in art.” Amanda smiled, knowing that Lisa had been desperate to find ways to communicate with her troubled teenage nephew. Maybe Truman and Mrs. Granger had found something that would actually hold his attention for a bit.
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