I was wearing my trusty Danskos, which my forty-four-year-old feet appreciated, but even their mighty arches weren’t enough to keep the ache away altogether. I’d been walking customers to and fro all morning and bringing out new titles or replacement copies in every spare minute. I was glad I’d ordered a lot of books for the week and super grateful to have the cash to do that.
Daniel sat down on a stack of boxes next to me. “I think we can safely say that your store is officially viable.”
“You think?” I laughed, but inside, I was profoundly grateful. The kindness of strangers . . . it was an expression I’d heard a lot, but now I was on the receiving end of it. I felt humbled and even more determined than ever to make this shop do its good work.
I could hear the sound of conversation through the door. “Thanks for stopping by.” I gestured toward the door. “I probably need to get out there.”
“Oh right. Definitely. But before you go, I almost forgot the second reason I stopped by.”
I turned to look at him. “Okay, but first, what’s the first reason?”
He put his hand on my cheek. “I think you know that one. But the second one. Max Davis came by. He wanted my opinion on a sound he was hearing in his car, at least that’s what he said, but I think he was fishing for information.”
“Information about what?”
“Well, that’s the thing. He kept talking around something, at least I think so. Said something about us being in the restaurant last night, that maybe I needed to think more about myself and less about helping ‘our new neighbor.’”
Our meal the night before had been perfect – crab cakes with remoulade sauce for the guys. A really amazing quiche for me. I think Max had been mortified at my poor taste when I ordered the quiche for dinner. He even came out to suggest the chicken fricassee instead, but I held firm – I wanted cheese and eggs – and he’d relented. It was so good.
“Clearly, he knows I’m a bad influence,” I said, trying to make light of the insult.
Daniel laughed, but the chuckle didn’t reach his eyes. “He was being casual, Harvey, but I don’t think he was kidding. I think he was really trying to warn me off of you.”
I felt tears clawing their way up my throat, but I couldn’t let Daniel know how much that bothered me . . . or how much I was afraid Daniel would listen. “Is it working?” My laugh came out crackly.
“Not for a second.” He leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss. Then he pulled back and looked me in the eyes. “He got me worried, though. I know he and Stevensmith had a falling out . . . do you think he could be the murderer?”
The thought had crossed my mind. Between the very palpable resentment he had about the reporter’s reviews and the potential that he might have been faking his paranoia about being a victim at the street fair, I thought it quite possible that he might be our guy. But I still had a question. “Why would he warn you off me, though? What’s the value in that?”
Daniel gave me a very serious look and then widened his eyes as if he couldn’t believe I wasn’t getting it, but I wasn’t getting it. “Harvey, he’s trying to get me out of the way so he can get to you.”
I shook my head. “Nah, that’s ridiculous. Max is also ridiculous, but he’s not dangerous . . . and he’s definitely not this conniving.”
“You sure about that?” Daniel wasn’t convinced, and as confident as I was trying to sound, I wasn’t completely convinced either. “At least, make sure you’re not alone okay? Keep Mart or Rocky or me nearby.”
I wanted to protest, claim my introversion as something that required time alone, but I knew it was better safe than sorry. Plus, I didn’t want to worry my friends, at least not any more than they were already. I promised Daniel I wouldn’t be alone anywhere but the bathroom, and he thanked me.
But then it was time for me to get back to work. He gave me a quick hug and followed me out the door and back into the shop. I was glad to see the crowd hadn’t thinned because I really needed something to distract me from the fact that someone I knew might be out to kill me.
The book buyers kept on coming, and I lost myself in recommending books – Rick Riordan’s Egyptian series for a pre-teen boy who liked reading, but only if it was adventure, then Sarah Vowell’s Wordy Shipmates for a history buff who appreciated a wry and witty critique, and finally Toni Morrison’s Paradise to the woman who loved Morrison but only knew her most popular books. “Paradise is my favorite. I especially love that it’s about a group of powerful women,” I said. She bought a copy for herself and one for her best friend.
Between customers, I tried to keep the shelves full – or at least looking so. Our magazine rack looked like a turkey skeleton after Thanksgiving, and the true crime shelves were almost bare. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about inventory for tomorrow’s street fair, but when the sun started to set, the crowd thinned out. I thought I’d get a minute to think, but Cate and Lucas came in.
I must have looked about like I felt because Cate gave me a once over, turned to Lucas, and said, “Yep. This calls for soup in a bread bowl.”
Just the idea of hot soup and yeasty bread made me salivate. I had never gotten around to lunch, and my body needed nourishment. Nourishment and rest. “That sounds amazing, but I have to figure out what I’m going to do about books for tomorrow. We don’t have enough stock to do a bargain table on the sidewalk. I have the ‘mystery’ books for folks to buy, but the rest of my inventory really needs to stay in here. Otherwise, I’m afraid people will think we’re going out of business.”
Cate pointed to the chair in the fiction section and gestured for me to sit. Then, she started rubbing her index finger against her thumb while she turned in circles.
“She okay?” I asked Lucas.
He smiled. “Oh yes. This is her thinking ritual.”
Cate turned a few more times, and then she stopped and looked at me. “I have an idea.”
“See? Told you.” Lucas said as he looked from his wife to me.
I laughed. “You two are cute.”
They both rolled their eyes, thus confirming my comment. “Okay, what’s this idea?”
“Used books.”
“But—“
“Before you object. Yes, you are a new book bookstore, but for this purpose, wouldn’t it be fun to just have a bunch of miscellaneous books, all for one dollar, let’s say. People could pick up titles for themselves, for their friends, for the Little Free Library boxes that are so wonderfully cropping up everywhere.”
I considered the idea for a moment. “Okay, I can get on board with that. It does sound fun, but where do we get all these books?”
Lucas laughed so loudly that several people in the shop turned to look at him. “Are you ready?”
“Ready? Ready for what?”
Cate blushed. “Well, I have a basement full of books. Hundreds, maybe thousands of books. I’d love to donate them, maybe have the proceeds go to the scholarship fund?”
I sat up very straight in my chair. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I have about a million questions. First, you have thousands of books in your basement? How does this happen? I mean I love books, obviously, but thousands? Are they boxed up? On shelves?” I turned my head to look at my friend out of the corner of my eye. “Or is this one of those hoarding scenarios where I’d have to turn sideways and not touch anything lest I be buried alive next to Sasquatch’s predecessor?”
“What’s this about being buried alive?” Mart’s voice was a little high-pitched. I guess even joking about death was a little too close to home right now.
Lucas said, “Harvey is just marveling at the fact that my wife has been accumulating books for decades.”
Cate smiled. “Accumulating is the nice way of putting it. I adore books, especially art books, and I’ve never been able to part with a book once I brought it home. So the basement is lined with bookshelves, all sorted by subject.”
“And you want to part with them now?” I had a pretty sizable book collection my
self – not that sizable but still – and I was very selective about what books I gave away. I loved Cate’s idea, but I wanted to be sure she actually loved it.
“I do. Actually, I’ve been talking about it for a long time. I want to set up a studio in the basement, but I need more natural light. To get more natural light, I need more windows. To get more windows, I have to have walls . . . and right now, every wall is covered with a bookshelf.”
Lucas looked at me and said, “It’s time. Please, please accept this offer. I’m tired of having to eat dinner on a TV tray because a painting is drying on the dining room table.” He got down on his knees and clasped his hands together in front of me. “Take the books, Harvey. Please.”
I cracked up. These two people made me very happy. I looked at Cate. “If you’re sure.”
“Totally.” She headed toward the door, and then looked back at Lucas. “You coming? We have books to sort.”
“I guess we’re leaving, but come by after you close up. I’ll have potato soup – with bacon, I presume? – in a sour dough bread bowl for you. You, too, Mart. ”
I had loved a lot of things about San Francisco, but soup in a bread bowl – that was one of my favorites. “Yes to the bacon, please,” I looked at Mart who was nodding her head like she was one of those bobblehead dolls in the back window of a car on a back road. “We’ll see you later,” I called after Cate and Lucas.
“My word,” Mart said. “So we need to get some tables?”
“Oh crap. I hadn’t even thought about tables.” Here I was recommending that people put out tables with specials for the fair, and I didn’t even have a table myself, much less enough tables to hold hundreds, maybe thousands of Cate’s book.
Mart already had her phone out. “No worries. I got this.” As I got up to tidy up the store and help Marcus ring up the last few customers, Mart slid into the chair without even looking up from her phone. She had this.
By the time we closed up, we’d had 1,854 visitors to the store – maybe a few more since I was in the back for a bit with Daniel. And a quick run of the register tally showed I’d made more that day than I had in all the days before combined. I was giddy. Giddy and exhausted.
All I wanted was that soup in a bread bowl, a big cup of tea, and my bed. But we still had prep to do for the next day. At least I thought we had prep to do. “Okay, we’re all set. Tables, extra coffee carafes, more cups and plates, and a supply of St. Boudreau’s best wine will be here at nine a.m. Anything else we need? My boss is happy to help.”
I just stared at her for a minute while my brain tried to process what she’d just said. “We’re having wine?”
“Yep, I’ll be serving as an employee of the winery – just tastings – but we’ll have bottles for sale, too. Thought it might get a little more foot traffic.”
I felt the smile on my face, and I was very excited . . . but the idea that even more people would be coming to my store left me a little stupefied. The shock slowly gave way to panic. “Mart, where are we going to put all these things?”
“Got that under control, Ms. B,” Marcus said as he dropped beside me on the floor. “I did a sketch.” He handed me a sheet of printer paper with what looked like a to-scale drawing of the store.
The wine would be in the front of the café against the windows to draw people in but not impede the flow for pastry eaters and coffee drinkers. Then, we’d shift the café tables into the main part of the shop, giving people places to sit and rest with their wine or coffee but also keeping the space open in the café itself. Then, Cate’s books would be on long tables all across the front and the side of the store that opened onto a parking lot. Mart had secured permission from the garden center next door to use the edge of their lot since it was a bit early for them to have much merchandise, but they had also assured her that they would do their part and have as many flowering shrubs as they could out on the street to draw people over.
I studied the plan and let out a hard sigh. It was all under control. “Thank you all so much. I feel like I say this all the time, but really, I couldn’t do this without you.” I blew Rocky a kiss as she and her mom cleaned up the last of the dishes and shut down the café.
I gave everyone hugs as they headed out the door. Mart lingered just long enough for Daniel to arrive, and then she gave Marcus a lift home. He’d be staying with us until he had time to get his apartment ready. “Meet you at Cate and Lucas’s?” she said. “You come, too, Daniel. Cate said so.”
“Sounds good.” He waved as they left, and then looked at me. “What am I doing now?”
“Potato soup in a bread bowl,” I said with a smile.
“Oh man, that sounds so good.” He pointed to the window display. “You sit here. I’ll close up.”
I smiled and gave him the alarm code. It felt good to sit down. As Daniel headed toward me across the shop, I heard a knock at the window and turned to see Elle there – her arms full of flowers. I groaned. I had totally forgotten she was bringing those by for tomorrow. I shouted to Daniel and asked him to turn off the alarm, and then I let Elle in.
The flowers were amazing. I had imagined she’d bring me pink and purple flowers – soft pastels – but there were salmon blooms and hot pink ones, too. Even a burgundy and a yellow. “Oh, Elle, I love them. I didn’t realize that hyacinths came in so many hues. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I got caught up with customers all day. Most of them had books, so I think we probably have you to thank for the boost in early-season business.”
“It wasn’t me. It was Michiko Kakutani and Galen Gilbert and their fans. I can’t believe it.”
She set the five-gallon buckets full of flowers and water down to the left of the door. “You’re being too humble. They praised your shop because it’s worth praising. This is a wonderful spot, Harvey.”
“Well, thank you, and I am really glad my good fortune is spreading down the street.”
“Oh, it most definitely is. I sold out of butternut squash by eleven a.m.. I’ve never been so glad for my little greenhouse and the fact that peas love cooler weather. I’m glad I ordered extra flowers, too. Lots of folks have spring fever and wanted fresh bouquets. But I held these back . . . just for you.”
I looked again at the flowers. “These are amazing. They’re a much-needed boost after a whopper of a day.”
“Indeed. After the news about the sheriff, we all need a boost.”
I clenched my jaw. “The sheriff? What happened?” I looked to Daniel as he walked up and then back at Elle. “Is he okay?”
“Oh,” Elle put her hand on my arm, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you. Oh yes, Sheriff Mason is fine. But someone did slash his tires and paint that horrible word on his patrol car. He was madder than spit when I saw him a few hours ago.”
I turned to Daniel. “Oh my goodness. Had you heard about this?”
“Yep. Pretty awful.”
I shook my head. “As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with, two people murdered including his deputy, and someone wants to stir up racist BS. Unbelievable.” I could feel the anger running through my fingers. When I’m tired, my emotions often get the best of me, and tonight I was exhausted. “Does he know who did it?”
Elle shrugged. “He’s pretty tight-lipped about most things.” She looked down and sighed. Then she met my gaze again. “But he’s a force to be reckoned with. I wouldn’t mess with him.”
I nodded. He seemed mild-mannered, but I imagined that if he needed to be, our kind sheriff could be a hurricane of justice.
Daniel headed back to re-arm the alarm, and Elle and I walked out onto the street. “Thanks again for the flowers, Elle. I’ll get you a check once all this slows down, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, that’s fine. We’ll all be a little flush with cash after this weekend. Thanks again for this, Harvey. You’ve really boosted not only our revenues, but our spirits here.”
I blushed. “That’s kind o
f you to say. Now, if only we could find the person who murdered Stevensmith and Deputy Williams. It would feel like a good end to a hard couple of weeks.”
Elle shrugged. “I guess so. Sometimes, though, I think some questions are best left unanswered, don’t you?”
Daniel came out and joined us. “Some questions, yes,” he said, “but not a question about murder. All of the questions about a murder need to be solved.”
She gave us a thin smile and climbed into her pick-up.
As she drove away, I thought about that stack of newspaper articles on her desk. What had she been trying to answer?
We made it to Cate and Lucas’s just as the soup was coming off the stove. It smelled heavenly, like comfort had been made into vapor and spread throughout the room. “Oh, Lucas, I may pass out from delight,” I said as I slung my scarf and coat over the nearest chair and fell into it.
“Now, that’s a response to my cooking that I could get used to,” he said with a small laugh. “I left the bacon out because I wasn’t sure if any of you were vegetarian.”
“Bring on the bacon,” Mart and Daniel said at the same time before both cracking up. We were all a little on edge with all the busyness in the shop and the fair tomorrow and, well, the murders. It felt good to just be silly and indulgent.
“Help yourselves,” Lucas said as he gestured to a spread on their kitchen island. Normally, I was the kind of person who prefers to go last, but tonight, I just wanted to eat. I grabbed a plate, a perfect bread bowl – not as huge as those at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco but not a dinner roll either – and ladled it full with the thick, white soup. Then, I dropped a good portion of bacon in and covered it all with more than my fair share of shredded cheddar.
Cate had just finished pouring big glasses of ice cold water, so I grabbed one of those and then tucked myself into the far corner of the dining room table by the window. I didn’t even mind my manners and wait for everyone to sit. I just dove in. My mother would be horrified.
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