by Winnie Reed
Chapter Sixteen
“Anyway, it seems like everybody loved the book. I just wonder if reading another thriller will be too much of a good thing.” Becca tapped a pen against her notepad, face screwed up in thought. “Unless we decide to make thrillers our preferred genre. You know? That might be fun. Or every month can be a new theme.”
“Mm-hmm.” I was barely there, still thinking about my conversation with Emma. Something about the entire situation from beginning to end wasn’t sitting right with me. Like a little voice in the back of my head, bugging me all the time about something I wasn’t seeing. What was it?
“We definitely want to do something scary for October, though it can’t be too scary. I wouldn’t want to hear your mom hollering over having to read something gory.” Becca giggled, but stopped when she noticed how far away I was. “Where are you right now?”
“Hmm?” I looked away from the display I’d been staring at but not really seeing. “Oh. Sorry. I’m spacing out all over the place this morning.”
Instead of looking insulted, Becca lifted a brow. “Oh? Officer Pete keeping you up late at night?”
“No. It doesn’t have to do with him.” I should tell her, I have to tell her. She deserved to know about the possibility of somebody coming in, looking for me again. Keeping the store open, having her come in without a clue as to what was happening, now struck me as cruelty. She was a grown woman and deserved to make decisions for herself based on the facts.
The problem was, every time I decided once and for all to open up, something lodged itself in my throat. Guilt, most likely. I deserved it. Here she was, bending over backward to keep things interesting and engaging for our customers, and I couldn’t find it in me to tell her I was pretty much being stalked.
She left the notepad sitting on top of a shelf and joined me at the counter. “What is it? You’ve been awfully strange this week, no offense.”
“None taken.” I squared my shoulders and stiffened my spine. It was now or never. “Actually, there is something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
No sooner did I take a deep breath than the front door swung open hard enough to make the bell jingle violently. We both jumped, and for a second I thought, this is it, this is how it was always going to go, with this maniac bursting in here to silence me for good.
The maniac standing in the doorway, however, was one with whom I was familiar. That didn’t mean I felt anything close to relief, though. “Dad? What’s wrong? Oh, no, is it—”
My wild-eyed father shook his head in a jerky motion. “Your brother’s fine. It’s you I’m furious with, young lady.”
We had only been open for a few minutes by that time, so thankfully there were no customers in the store. Sunday mornings were generally pretty quiet. Only Becca witnessed my father spitting his words at me.
“I’ll just pop over next door and grab a coffee, huh?” She didn’t wait for either of us to answer and slid past Dad before I could tell her it was okay, that she didn’t have to go. That was easy for me to say, though. Not many people liked being around when their friend was being scolded by a parent.
I imagined it’d be even worse if that friend was also their employer.
Dad hardly reacted to Becca, eyes glued to me. His clothes were rumpled and he’d missed a button on his short-sleeved bowling shirt. The man had been in a hurry to get to the store.
“What is it?” I didn’t bother acting shocked or offended. “Did it really take Emma this long to rat me out? Honestly, I should congratulate her for waiting so long to call you.”
He blinked rapidly, his nostrils flaring. “No, it wasn’t your sister. Don’t turn this around on her. Joe called me.”
“Right, because Emma blabbed to him. I should’ve known.”
“It was that friend of his with the PCPD, the one Pete asked for help. He checked in with Joe earlier this morning, wanting to make sure everything with this request was on the up-and-up. Imagine Joe’s surprise. When he mentioned it to Emma, that was when she told him about your conversation last night. Don’t you dare blame either of them, though. This is squarely on your shoulders.”
What was it about being scolded by my dad that turned me into a teenager again? I wasn’t what anybody would call a rebel. The closest I’d ever come to questionable behavior was reading books that were way too old for me. I used to hide them between my mattress and box spring and pull them out late at night, when I was supposed to be asleep.
In the grand scheme of rebellious behavior, mine would hardly have deserved a yawn.
Even so, there’d been times when my stubborn streak had gotten me into trouble, and I was experiencing a return to form as I stood there, absorbing Dad’s anger.
“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to apologize for trying to keep you out of it, because I knew this would be what happened?” I waved a hand up and down, indicating his dramatic entrance. “I wanted to keep you calm and healthy. Sorry if that’s a crime.”
“Darcy Harmon, you might be a grown woman, but I’m still your father and I won’t have you speaking to me that way.” His face was an interesting shade of red. “Some killer is out there and he’s got his eye on you, and you have the gall to—”
“We don’t know he’s a killer.”
“Don’t split hairs.”
The door opened again, and in came Holly with Georgie on one hip. She looked a little more put together than Dad, at least, though there was just as much tense energy radiating from her. “George, enough of this already. What do you think you’re going to accomplish, barging in like this? I hope you didn’t scare off any customers.” She bounced Georgie, who fussed like he knew what was going on and felt sorry for his big sister.
I held out my arms because, let’s face it, I needed a little sweetness just then. Georgie held his arms out, too, straining to reach me. Holly handed him over while mouthing the words I’m sorry. I gave her a short nod to keep Dad from blowing up even worse. The last thing we needed was for him to think we were ganging up.
“Hello, sweetie.” I kissed his tear-stained cheek. “It’s been an exciting morning for you, hasn’t it?”
Dad grumbled. “Georgie, why don’t you ask your sister to tell you all about how she should’ve gone straight to the police when she saw that girl get attacked?”
I looked at the baby, now playing with my hair. “Georgie bud, why don’t you remind our father that I called the police when it happened? And there was no reason to imagine the guy would find me?”
“Maybe if she told me about it, Georgie, I—”
“Enough of this.” Holly stepped in between us, one hand on Dad’s chest. “Honestly, the two of you. Having a conversation through a baby. Sometimes, he’s more mature than either of you.”
“What did I do?” I pointed to myself, eyes wide.
She sighed, and I could tell she was choosing her words carefully. We hadn’t always gotten along—more like I was resentful for ages over their relationship and had refused to speak to either of them. I could admit my part. I doubted she’d want to blow things up all over again.
“Darcy, I know you only want to keep your dad’s health in mind. And you don’t want people to worry over you.” She chuckled, wry. “I feel like we keep running around the same hamster wheel again and again. You don’t have to bear all this strain on your own. When are you going to come around and understand that?”
Dad had the nerve to look smug, but that didn’t last long. She turned on him next. “And you. Making a scene like this, storming down to the store on a Sunday morning when you should be home, eating breakfast and playing with your son. Darcy is a grown woman with a life of her own. I know you want to protect her, but has it ever occurred to you that she shies away from opening up because she knows you’ll react this way?”
“Like a concerned father?”
“Like an overbearing one.” Holly clicked her tongue. “It’s too much. I know she’ll always be your little girl, but she might n
ot want to be thought of as that. She is capable and resourceful.”
She glanced my way. “Stubborn and pigheaded, too, but we know where that comes from.”
The door opened a third time, and in walked Mom. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I hugged Georgie tight, pressing my face to his shoulder to hide my grin.
“Becca told me there was excitement going on over here, and she wasn’t sure if she should come back.” Mom looked around. “What in the world is all this about?”
It was a huge step, the fact that she even wanted to be in the same room as Dad and his girlfriend. I noticed the way her eyes drifted to the baby, who smiled from ear to ear like the little charmer he was. There was a twinkle in her eye, but she wasn’t easily distracted. “Well? Somebody tell me.”
“Go ahead.” Dad jerked his chin at me. “Tell your mother.”
“Wow. It’s like I’ve stepped back in time.” I looked from one of them to the other. “Mom, here’s the truth. A girl was attacked while we were on a Zoom chat. She was interviewing me for the Paradise City News. I didn’t see the attacker, but he knows I was watching and is now playing games with me. I called the police at the time, but I guess they didn’t do anything about it since he’s still out there.”
“And?” Dad wasn’t satisfied.
“And what?” I hated having so many eyes on me. It was enough to make my skin crawl. “I don’t know what you want me to say. He was in the book club meeting on Friday. That’s why I left. I guess he took the girl’s—Jane’s—laptop when he was finished with her. He’s been using her accounts to get in touch with me.”
It was Holly who reacted first. “My goodness.” She looked at Georgie. “He was there? When I… and the baby…”
“Don’t worry, please.” I waited until she met my gaze and held it. “He doesn’t know who you are to me. Who any of you are. I’m sure of that. I didn’t know he was there until the meeting was already going on, and that was when I ducked out and took him with me. I couldn’t have imagined he would pull that.”
Dad groaned. “Maybe he wouldn’t have if you’d—”
“George. That’s enough.”
My eyes bulged. Dad’s mouth snapped shut. Mom hadn’t spoken to him like that, so sharp and direct, in years. Since before the divorce.
He turned to her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Darcy was only doing what she thought was best—and don’t tell me, George Harmon, that there would’ve been anything you could do about it even if she had told you. You aren’t Superman, no matter how much you still think you are.”
Darn it. Of all times for Emma to be away. I knew she would’ve relished seeing that as much as I had. Of all the times for me to not have popcorn handy.
It didn’t mean I was off the hook, though, not by a long shot. Mom whirled on me. “And you. I wish you were young enough to ground or punish somehow. What’s it going to take to get you to stop keeping things to yourself? You were never a secretive person before.”
So she thought. My entire life, I’d been keeping secrets, though nothing of this magnitude. I had a whole world in me, a whole well of observations and secrets and dreams that I had never shared with anybody. There’d been times when my inner life had seemed more real than the one in front of me.
“I know. I keep hoping I can figure things out without the situation coming to this. I was going to let it go, really, I was. Trixie convinced me to.”
Mom’s face went red and oh, boy, I could already hear Trixie screeching at me for spilling the beans. “I need to have a word with her.”
“Don’t, okay? Just don’t. I’m an adult, and we talked it over, and she made a lot of good points. That was before this creep emailed me from Jane’s account. Until then, I figured this would blow over. It wasn’t my problem, and I did the best I could to help. How was I supposed to know he’d want to keep after me?”
I didn’t realize I was crying until Georgie ran a pudgy hand over my wet cheek. When I looked at him, I found him pouting, eyes wide, and his quivering chin told me he was about to let loose. “No, no, sweetie. I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Darcy’s okay.”
Mom rubbed my back, which surprised me. Not that I didn’t think she’d want to comfort me, but I would’ve expected her to tear me a new one for a little longer. Probably wants to look like the good guy in front of Dad. Just then, I didn’t care what her motives were.
“Do you know what I think? You should close the store for a few days in case this lunatic comes back. I think that’s a reasonable request from a concerned parent.” Oh, boy, she was laying it on thick. “It’s the right thing to do, too. You’re responsible for that nice girl who’s still hiding in my shop to avoid witnessing this.”
“I know. You’re right. I’m going to close for a couple of days, starting today.” Now that I’d decided, it was a weight lifting from my shoulders. I looked at Dad. “Okay? Is that enough to satisfy you?”
He was fighting against wanting to grill me some more. I knew it. So did Holly and probably Mom. Maybe the baby, too. All of us looked to him, waiting.
“Fine.” He threw his hands into the air before taking Georgie from me. “I guess we’ll go home. But if you think I’m not going to ask around about this, you have another think coming.”
“By all means. I’m tired of handling it on my own.” I kissed Georgie goodbye and shot Holly a look of deep thanks before the three of them were out the door. The sound of her chastising Dad was faintly audible through the glass as they passed the front window.
I gave Mom a wan smile. “You’re getting better at sharing air with them.”
Her lips were pressed so tight together, they were barely visible. “Don’t flatter me, young lady. You know I’m furious.”
“I’d expect nothing else.” I went to the register and shut it down, then turned off the lights. “I’ll follow you next door, okay? Let Becca know I’m on my way over.” I’d pay her for the missed time, of course. Weeks of online orders and increased traffic made it possible for me to not wince at the thought of paying for three days of no sales and no work.
Besides, we were still processing online orders by the boatload. We’d make out all right.
“What’s going on?” Becca was agitated when I walked into the café carrying the backpack she’d brought in for the day. I sat her down and explained the best I could, hating myself as I did it. I had lied to her so many times.
And she felt it. “Wow. I’ve gotta say, I’m conflicted.”
“About what?” I hardly noticed the chatter and laughter around us. The café was bustling the way it always was on Sunday mornings. At least this gave Mom a reason to leave us be while we talked.
“I wish you’d be honest with me. We work together. I think of you as a friend.”
“I think the same thing about you.”
“But now you’re telling me some guy who might want to hurt you was in the store while you were playing Nancy Drew. He was at our meeting. He’s been harassing you, and odds are he’ll come back to the store sometime. I imagine, anyway.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, staring at her half-empty coffee cup. “What would it have taken for you to tell me if your dad hadn’t come in?”
“I was about to tell you when he did.” She looked away. “I swear it. He did it for me, I guess. I’m sorry. I understand your feelings. If you want to quit, I’d understand that, too. Only please, don’t.”
She snickered. “No pressure.”
I wanted to cry all over again. “I accept that.”
“Did you at least get a look at the guy when you were talking with him?”
The fact that she was still talking to me at all was a good sign—at least, I wanted to take it that way. I pulled out my phone and showed her the photos. “That’s the best I could get before he ran away like a coward.”
Mom just so happened to stroll slowly past in a very obvious way. She then stopped when she saw what Becca was studying, leaning in to take a closer look herself. “H
ey. Can you, you know, zoom in on the picture? I want to see that shelf better.”
“What are you looking at?” I peered at the phone, where Becca did as Mom asked.
“It’s that thing.” Mom tapped the screen. “That statue on the shelf. It looks familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“Statue?” Sure enough, there was a small figure on one of the shelves behind the man’s head. It was only visible because he’d backed away from the computer when I turned the light on.
Becca tilted her head one way, then another. “It looks more like an award, doesn’t it?”
I jumped up from my chair. “Yes!”
Then I remembered I was in a room with twenty other people.
Mom didn’t seem to mind, though. She was too busy staring open-mouthed at me, gripping my arm. “Trixie won that award! I remember her laughing because it’s a man sitting at a typewriter. She thought it was sexist, but that didn’t stop her from showing it off.”
Trixie wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the issue at hand. “That’s what was bothering me! I recognized it, too, or I sort of did. I must have, because ever since I went through those pictures, something’s been bugging me.”
I took the phone and held it closer to my face, nodding slowly as everything came together in my head. “I assumed it was one of Jane’s subjects who attacked her. What if it was one of her coworkers, instead?”
Chapter Seventeen
The thing about closing the shop for a couple of days was all the free time it gave me to research.
I was barely inside my apartment when I flopped down on the sofa and opened my laptop on the coffee table. Lola got to work chewing her favorite toy—she was very industrious, and very determined—and I left her to it. “I’m glad you’re so good at amusing yourself.”
Meanwhile, my fingers flew over the keys. I wanted to know how many of the reporters at the News had won the same award Trixie had. The Philip P. Newman award. I guessed it was supposed to be good old Philip sitting at the typewriter, though when I Googled him, I discovered he looked nothing like the figure they’d cast for the miniature statue.
