“Howdy!”
Claire was looking a little worse for wear as she stood there on the pier, in spite of the fact that she had clearly been to the hair salon in the past day or so. She was wearing dark shades and nursing a latte, and she didn’t look as though she’d gotten much sleep.
“Everything okay?” I asked, peering at her. I could have sworn I could see guilt there on her face, but it was difficult with the dark shades. Black sunglasses kind of make everyone look guilty, don’t they?
She nodded quickly and took a mouthful of her latte, gulping it down. “Just had a little trouble sleeping last night.”
Yeah, well, that was her room at the Dolphin (F)Inn, if you asked me. She was only being stubborn, making a point by staying there longer than she needed to, just trying to make the point that she could leave at any time. Yeah, yeah, Claire, we get it. You think that you are just a little better than us. That you are not really one of us.
She’d come around eventually.
“People are acting so bizarre today.” I told her that everyone had been staring at me and talking about me.
“It’s this podcast,” Claire said. “Everyone is listening to it. It’s become a local sensation.” She was frowning. Then she said something really strange. “And to be honest, it is a pretty entertaining podcast.” She gulped. “Maybe we should go a bit easier on the guy. Maybe we should even donate money for him to get it made. I think he has one of those buttons on his site where you can pledge an amount.”
Umm. “What? Two nights ago, you called me and J so that we could ruin his recording and now you want to give money to the guy?” Now she was suddenly his biggest fan?
She looked pale. Claire was pretty pale naturally, but she’d been in the sun a fair bit since being back in Eden Bay and had started to develop a tan. No…this was because all the blood had drained from her face
“I’m just, ah, saying that we should give this guy more of a chance,” Claire said, before hurrying off. She claimed there was some sort of book emergency going on at the store.
Whatever. I sighed and decided that if I was going to be a local celebrity, I may as well make the best of it. I placed my own dark shades on and started to swan around the place, soaking up the stares.
But I was going to have to listen to this podcast myself and see just how bad it was.
Easier said than done. I sat down on the sand and got out my phone and managed to find the podcast store. But I couldn’t even figure out how to get the darn thing to load.
Then I saw a large shadow moving toward me, shark-like. I wished. That would have been easier to deal with than a disgruntled client.
Uh-oh. I’d already pushed the deadline back by days and it was still not done with the dang turtle staring up at the moon. I glanced down at the board and cringed. It was starting to look like a child’s drawing the more I looked at it and focused on it.
“What’s the holdup?” He was a large guy with beefy arms and a crewcut. His name was Adam. I knew him, only a little, from local surfing comps.
To his credit, he had been fairly patient up until then. Told me that he understood that art took time. But his patience was starting to wear thin. He needed to get back to his surfing lessons that weekend and without his surfboard, that was going to be difficult.
“It’s almost done. Just another few hours. Let’s say tomorrow.”
“Alyson, I need this board now.”
“Just one more hour.”
He muttered under his breath as he walked off. “I will be back in an hour.”
Found it. I looked at the description of the episode and saw that it focused on these so-called crazy locals. Me. I really did not have time to read at that moment. I put the earbuds in and listened instead.
The real interesting bit came right at the end of the episode. From the sounds of it, he had found a new mystery to focus on, a new angle for episode three. And it was all about me.
Why hadn’t Claire told me how bad this was? It made sense now why she had wanted J to come down and ruin the recording, but why the sudden turnaround this morning?
“How does life in Eden Bay make someone go crazy? We’ll find out very soon. There are women in this town up to terrible things…”
I wanted to pull the buds out of my ears, but I kept listening.
Sure. This might have been amusing if it was about anyone else but me. Say if it had been about Claire, for instance, then it would be amusing.
I had intended to paint while I listened. Really, I had. I wasn’t sure where the hour had gone. It seemed like time had sped up. Slipped away.
And then Claire turned up on the beach.
“Are you here for a surf lesson?”
I could tell from the look on her face she was not.
I stood up. “Am I going to have to drag this out of you or what?”
“I did something bad,” Claire said as I followed her down to the water. She hopped nervously from one foot to the next. “I was only trying to help, though, I swear.” She sucked in a breath and told me about how she had gone to pay Justin St. Clair a visit the day before.
My mouth dropped open. She had broken an expensive microphone? “Oh, my goodness, you have really pulled an Alyson,” I said. I was almost impressed. I was almost amused. I tried not to laugh.
Claire nodded. “He’s so angry now, though. He wants the money. He wants you to pay for the phone and me to pay for the mic.”
Of course, it was fair enough. Except that I had no way to pay him.
Oh shoot, shoot, shoot. “Claire, I gotta go,” I said. I did not want her seeing this. I raced back to my surfboards and tried to get there before Adam could pick his board up and carry it away. Too late.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s not done.”
“Then you can give me my commission money back then.”
But that was the money I had planned to give Justin for throwing his phone into the ocean.
“Please. Just give me till tomorrow,” I begged. He threw the board back into the sand and told me this was my last chance.
I know you are not going to believe me. But this time, I really, really, truly, hand on my heart, had intended to work on the surfboard.
But then I saw a blonde woman walking along the pier. Stephanie. VP at Emerald Development.
I had to follow her, you understand. No one could possibly blame me.
By the time I finally caught up with her—well, ten meters behind her—at Captain Eightball’s, I was a little out of breath. I stayed outside and watched her through the window. It was like déjà vu. Just like the other night, she made a beeline for Troy’s table. He rose and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Ugh. Gross. Then Troy got up and went to the bathroom. And she reached for his drink again! What a nerve. But this time, I noticed something else.
She was putting something in the drink.
She looked around to make sure that no one was watching. And no one was, at least not obviously. She should have thought to look for the girl hiding underneath one of the outside tables.
Matt crouched down. “What are you doing—?
“Shh!”
I watched her stir the item into Troy’s drink before he returned to the table. Well. Maybe Troy was actually sick after all.
And now I knew exactly why.
15
Claire
Mr. Ferdinand looked up at me with a grumpy, demanding look. He was meowing and meowing for food. Well, too bad. He was just going to have to wait till dinnertime like most cats had to do, rather than stuffing his guts all day the way my grandma had clearly encouraged, spoiling him.
There was a jingle and Troy Emerald stepped through the door.
“Here to buy another book on self-development?” He’d been in a few times that week. He was my one and only loyal customer at that point.
He shook his head and instead went to the health section. Hmm. The alternative health section. He sniffed the air a little on his way back.
&nb
sp; “You been painting in here?”
“Eh, yeah, sorry about the fumes,” I said as I rang up the purchase. I had been hoping that the fumes would clear overnight—on the tin of paint, it had said odorless. I had only painted one wall so far, so even though it had had a bit of an impact, it wouldn’t really be felt until I had painted the entire shop. That was the plan for the weekend.
He nodded his approval as he glanced around the shop. “Looks much better in here.”
“Um, thanks.” I guessed it was a compliment, so why didn’t it feel like one?
“Yeah, modernization is definitely the way,” he continued. The exact opposite of what Matt had said to me. “We need to drag the people here into the modern era. At least, someone does, don’t they?”
It was a funny thing. I hated doing what anyone else told me to do. Or even what anyone else advised me to do. Matt had told me one thing, and I’d rebelled against it. But now, here was someone, also giving me advice, but it was the opposite. So what was I supposed to do?
Uh-oh. I was at a juncture.
I was going to have to make up my own mind, using my own judgement, rather than just rebelling against what someone else had said.
Troy placed his book in the bag I gave him. Per Eden Bay custom, we never offered plastic bags but would provide them if the customer asked. Too many of them ended up in the ocean. I wasn’t sure he cared.
“I’ve noticed it’s been quiet in here all the times I’ve been in.”
“Just a quiet time of year,” I answered quickly. Then smiled. “I suppose that people prefer to go elsewhere.”
“You know that when the complex opens, there will be some retail spots up for grabs,” he said, leaning forward. He raised an eyebrow as though he was telling me a little secret. Doing me a favor.
Huh. I hadn’t really thought about that. Once the mall was built—if it got to that stage—any shop inside the mall would have a massive advantage. And those of us here on the strip would suffer considerably. And I was already suffering.
I didn’t answer. But my face must have looked curious.
Troy gave me a serious look. “I’m not gonna lie to you Claire, spots are already pretty much filled up and there is a waitlist. But if you’re interested, I’ll move you to the front of the line.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would you do me that kind of favor?”
“You’re a friend of Alyson’s, aren’t you?”
“I will have to think about it, Troy. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I headed down to the beach for my long-awaited next surf lesson. With Troy’s current health concerns, there wasn’t much chance of him pushing me off my board. But Alyson was nowhere to be seen. Huh. I couldn’t even see her pile of surfboards laying around anywhere. Must be the podcast, I thought. It had turned her into a bit of a local celebrity. She was probably at home hiding out, away from the glare of the public.
Well, it was just me and my surfboard then, with no teacher. As I headed toward the water, I started to look around for Matt. But the lights at Captain Eightball’s were still on in the distance. Working late shift.
I dipped my toes into the water. Still warm in the waning light. Troy had offered me the deal because I was Alyson’s friend. Ironic though, really. If I took the deal, she would probably never speak to me again. Me, setting up shop inside Troy’s Mall? It would be the ultimate betrayal in Alyson’s mind.
Just as I put my surfboard down and started to paddle, I noticed something grey and furry sitting under the peer, staring at me. Hang on. What was that? Not Mr. Ferdinand, was it? He had a cat door, but he never actually left the shop.
I paddled back out and checked just to make sure.
Not Mr. Ferdinand. This cat was brown, and as soon as it saw me, it was startled and started to run…right toward town.
And right toward my bookshop.
It was time to follow that cat.
I shook my head and gasped a little as the cat made its way through the cat door, and slid inside the bookshop. After grabbing my keys, I opened the human door and immediately sneezed. So, it was this interloper I was allergic to.
He headed straight to the food bowl and started gobbling up all of Mr. Ferdinand’s food.
I let out a long sigh, then threw my head back and laughed. “At least I have solved one mystery today.”
“How is this going to work?”
Maria was talking about the books and the new idea I had come up with, but I was looking at the two cats about to face off in the window. A catfight was about to break out right there and then. The new young cat was ready to claim his territory and the hairs on his back where standing up.
And if Mr. Ferdinand had been a few years younger, he may have put up a fight. But he just glared at the younger cat for a full minute, then curled back up on his cushion and went right to sleep.
Maria exhaled. I hadn’t realized she’d been so nervous standing there watching them. “This is not the quiet peaceful vibe your grandma wanted for this shop, Claire. They will be howling next thing you know, and customers will be driven away.”
I held my tongue. Why did Maria always have to have an opinion about how I should do business? It wasn’t just her. Everyone in Eden Bay seemed to think they could run my shop better than I could. But I hadn’t seen any of their names in my grandma’s will. Just mine.
“I can’t very well throw him back out onto the street, can I?”
“This isn’t a hotel for cats, dear,” Maria said.
No. And it wasn’t a library, either. But it was time to make one of those things I hated making—a compromise.
“This is the bin,” I said, showing Maria the wicker basket. Then decided to rephrase it. “Sorry, it’s a bucket. Let’s call it a bucket. Customers can put any book in it they like and swap it for any other book in there. Doesn’t have to be a book from this store.”
Maria looked a little smug. “So it is like a library.”
“No…” I decided to curb my ego. “Yes, it is like a library,” I finally admitted.
“So. You need my books, hey?”
I just held out the bucket and she put them in. I hated compromising. The blank white wall was still staring down at me. I was going to have to figure out what to do about that. But there was still one more compromise I was going to have to make first.
Before Maria would put her books into the basket, she had one further demand. “I get to choose this week’s book club book.”
Fine.
But I promised myself that would be my last compromise in a while. When Troy walked in, I knew I was going to have to stand my ground.
“Have you considered my offer, Claire?”
He did not look well on that day. I had to wonder if maybe he was telling the truth, after all. Was he actually dying? Maybe his soul had just been sucked dry from all the wheeling and dealing he did.
“I’m not sure what the rush to decide is,” I said, choosing a few old books from the shelves to place in the bucket.
“I may not have much time left, Claire. I need to know.”
Well, if he was going to push me. “No, then. Thanks but no thanks Troy. I want to keep the bookshop here. Where my grandma always had it.”
He shook his head and rolled his eyes at me a little. “You’re making a mistake, Claire. Good luck to you.”
16
Alyson
I was really keen for school to go back in session. Don’t get me wrong. I loved having J around. It was just that I needed a break. The strike had dragged on for a week. There was a lot of pressure on my back. Being a full-time guardian. Triathlon training. Trying to avoid podcasters.
And I was still on the run from my client Adam. It seemed like I was on the run from a lot of people these days.
“Ugh, why do we have to be here.” J was grumbling about being anywhere near the school on a ‘day off.’ She didn’t realize that she was lucky to have the day off at all. Back in my day, we never had week-long strikes.
She made a face when she saw her very own teacher, Mr. Williamson, out in front.
“We are not here to speak to the teachers, don’t worry,” I said.
She dragged her feet and pouted. “Well then, what are we here for?”
“To talk to the protestors.” I had to promise her that we would get some ice cream afterward if she just behaved and went along with it.
I recognized one of them, Chris, from the day Joel was killed. “Hey, Alyson! You joining in?”
He had a spare placard. I grabbed it and kind of joined the line, halfheartedly joining in a chant that said that teachers needed to get paid more. I wondered where the picket line was for artists to get paid more.
“I need to speak to you about Joel,” I said, having to yell at Chris in order to be heard.
“What?” he shouted back.
I handed my placard to J and pulled him aside. J dropped the sign and shook her head at me. She didn’t want the strike to end any time soon.
“You were there that day,” I said to Chris. I lowered my voice now we were away from the chanting. “I know that Joel…knew something,” I said and watched Chris’s face change. I took a deep breath. “And I think that I know the same thing.” I gave him a meaningful look. “Chris, did Joel know that Troy was being poisoned by his VP?”
All the color drained from Chris’s face. He tried to get away from me, but I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. “Alyson, you should stay out of this,” he said. “Joel paid the ultimate price and you will too.” He glanced at the crowd, then back at me. “I tried to warn that podcaster not to say anything either, but he’s going to reveal it in episode three.” Oh gosh. Chris put his hands up. “If something happens to him, well, I tried to warn him. It won’t be on me.”
“Chris, why didn’t you tell anyone this?”
He looked scared. Terrified. I guessed that was my answer.
So, Joel had found out what Stephanie was up to. And he’d paid the ultimate price.
I had to stop her before she killed again. Before she finished off Troy.
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