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Nozy Cat 1

Page 17

by Lyn Key


  “I’ve been meaning to send it out to recycle the old books,” Hope said. “They’re just a mottled collection of Reader’s Digest Condensed Books, and nobody wants to read them anymore. They earned Reader’s Digest and the authors some money, but I’ve never been able to sell even one, and I’ve stopped accepting them for store credit.”

  “Ah, but Hope, you didn’t plunder deep enough in the box,” Peggy Sue said. “For underneath the dross glimmered the true gold.”

  Nozy Cat’s whiskered head went on nodding.

  “Please get to the point,” Hope said. “Your smirks are too much for me to stand any longer.”

  “Nozy Cat dug out the autographed first editions by quite a few women authors,” Peggy Sue said.

  “Say that again, please,” Hope said. “I’m sure I must’ve misheard you.”

  You’re not hearing things.

  “We’re now the proud new owners of the signed first editions by Edith Wharton, Willa Cather, Beatrice Potter, Agatha Christie, and Pearl Buck.” Peggy Sue drew the five gorgeous novels out from under the front counter and lined them up on the countertop as if she was displaying the playing cards to a royal flush.

  “For sweet goodness sake.” Hope breathed hard and wanted to calm her racing heart. “Dare I ask it, but is one of the first editions a rare Emily Brontë?”

  We’ve got you covered. I found Wuthering Heights on the very bottom of the box.

  “My head is left in a spinning daze,” Hope said. “I don’t know what to say.”

  How about if you say cha-ching along with us?

  “How did the Brontë Bookshop wind up with them?” Hope asked.

  Magic. Kismet. Luck. Who cares how we got them? We just did, and that’s what counts.

  “A better explanation is the rich, eccentric June Crockett collected the first editions years ago when the book prices hadn’t gone through the roof,” Peggy Sue said. “Travis and I picked them up along with the other boxes of books we bought from her estate sale for ten dollars. The work crew emptying June’s personal library didn’t know what books they were removing from her library shelves and stuffing in the boxes. However, the terms said all the sales are final. No returns, no refunds, and no exchanges are allowed, so we legally own the first editions.”

  Hope smiled. “Hey, it works for me. How much can we make by selling the first editions?”

  A number with enough zeroes in it to mean we’re no longer about two cents away from the poorhouse. The windfall came along just in time.

  “Then the Brontë Bookshop will remain open for business,” Hope said, scratching Nozy Cat between his pointy ears. “Thanks,” she said to him.

  The End

  Note from the author: If you enjoyed reading Nozy Cat 1, your posted review of it would be a big help and greatly appreciated! Thank you!

  Reference

  The Poisoner’s Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York by Deborah Blum. Penguin, 2011.

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