Trouble on the Books

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Trouble on the Books Page 8

by Essie Lang


  She could see a runner approaching from her left when she reached the road but couldn’t see his face. She didn’t think to be worried until the man started to slow down. She thought about crossing to the other side of the street and then felt silly.

  “Shelby. Twice in one day. I didn’t expect to find you up here.” Zack Griffin slowed even more until he stopped in front of her. He actually looked pleased to see her, or so she thought.

  “Well, that makes two of us.” She felt her heart rate drop back to normal.

  He grinned. “I like to get out running at least once a day.”

  “Do you live close by?”

  “My place is overlooking Casino Island Park, on Sisson, the house with a red door and trim. It has a great view of the water.”

  “I’ll say. That’s an impressive location.”

  He chuckled. “It’s the old family vacation place my grandfather bought when prices were much cheaper. Then, after he passed, it was left to my dad, and I rent it from him. So it’s technically still the family home, and any family members get to stay with me when they visit. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen too often these days.”

  She didn’t quite know what to say to that. Choosing to ignore the personal stuff, she said, “I can’t imagine not seeing the river every morning, now that I’m living the life.”

  “Views are important, but having a houseboat, that would be the dream,” he admitted. “Don’t tell me you did the self-guided cemetery tour.”

  “And why shouldn’t I tell you?” She realized that her response had come out a bit terse. She added a smile as she finished, “I find them quite fascinating.”

  “Meet anyone you know?” He jogged slowly in place while he was talking.

  “No, unfortunately. I was looking for my mom’s grave site. Is there an office or something around here?”

  “Not that I know of. I think the main office is in the municipal building. How old were you when you left Alex Bay?”

  “I was three.”

  “And you haven’t been back since? No desire to find your roots?”

  “I had my dad. And my job. And my friends,” she hastily added. She didn’t want him to think her life had been uneventful, even if it was true.

  “You’re lucky to have such a great aunt.” His smile seemed genuine, and why wouldn’t it be? Everyone loved Edie. Well, almost everyone, she amended, thinking of the chief.

  “I didn’t know you knew her that well.” Shelby knew she sounded surprised.

  “Oh, I do. She was always the most exotic person in town, with her long colorful skirts and vests, and always with flowers in her hair.”

  Shelby smiled. “I’d heard about her hippie origins. My dad could not have been further removed from that lifestyle.”

  “Conservative?”

  “Yes, that’s a good word for him, I guess, plus he was a bit uptight when it came to meeting people. Of course, when we were doing things together, he was an entirely different guy. He could be a lot of fun.” She stopped, embarrassed by how much she’d shared with Zack. “How’s your investigation coming along, by the way?” she asked, changing the topic, subtly, she hoped. “You didn’t really share any information this afternoon.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t stop, do you? I’d invite you to my place to talk about it over a drink, but that would involve my showering first, and that would make it a late night and the neighbors would talk.”

  She glanced at his face. He was worried about the neighbors? Apparently not, by his smile and the amused look in his eyes.

  “Huh, that wouldn’t be good for either of our reputations,” she agreed, getting into the spirit of it. “Well then, enjoy the rest of your run.”

  She started to walk away when he caught up to her. “I wouldn’t mind a rain check on that drink. I’ll give you a call. That’s a promise.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He also missed the wide smile on Shelby’s face.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shelby was going to have to hurry if she was going to have time to stop by Erica’s coffee and chocolate shop, Chocomania, the next morning. She’d slept in, much to her chagrin, and realized with all that had been going on, she was probably a tad stressed and might need to start setting her alarm for the next little while. She hurriedly got dressed and tossed some fruit into the blender, topping it off with almond milk. Her smoothie went down fast, but she realized as she was finishing it that there was no cat around. She called out, but nothing happened, so she sprinted up the stairs, only to spot the cat curled up on the foot of her bed. Shelby had been in such a hurry, she hadn’t noticed it; nor, apparently, had she even disturbed the happy feline.

  She made sure to fill the cat’s food dishes and then, with a quick look at the clock, grabbed her bag, pulling the door shut behind her and locking it. The cat would spend the day indoors. She just hoped he wouldn’t repay the gesture by clawing something, like the couch that wasn’t hers. At least there was now a litter box stashed under the stairs.

  Shelby headed straight for Chocomania, almost at a sprint. She pushed the door open, knowing the chimes it had set off would bring Erica out of the back room. She appeared almost immediately.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m in a rush and badly need my caffeine. I slept in.” Shelby scrunched her face and realized she hadn’t done a quick check of the mirror before running out. “Do I look put together, or is something glaringly not matching? Or even worse, missing?”

  Erica laughed. “Trust me, I know how frustrating that can be. You look just fine; in fact, perfect. Here, I’ve got your truffles ready.” She reached under the counter. “There you go.”

  Today, Erica also looked a bit tossed together, in Shelby’s estimation at least. Her shoulder-length curly auburn hair, usually worn up, had tendrils that had escaped all over the place, and small white patches of flour, or so Shelby guessed, dotted the sleeve of her red T-shirt, not to mention the cream-colored bib apron that sported the caricature of a harried cook.

  They both looked over at the door as a boy and girl in their late teens, both wearing the bright-red T-shirts of Uncle Sam’s employees, walked in.

  “Looks like they’re in need of a caffeine boost also.”

  Erica nodded at the newcomers and then poured a coffee for Shelby. “Your usual. I’ll put it on your tab. You’d better get a move on or the shuttle will leave without you.”

  “Thanks. And please tell me your secret to being so perky in the morning. I know you’ve been up much longer than I have.”

  “If there is a secret, that’s it. For me, it feels like midmorning, so I’m completely awake now. Had you come in when I did a few hours ago, you’d have found a very different me.” She smiled and winked.

  “I’ll take your word for that. Thanks for this.” Shelby grabbed the cup and took a quick sip. “See you later.”

  Shelby continued her fast pace to the dock, then took a deep breath before stepping on board the shuttle. The harbor looked like a postcard. She wondered, in fact, if anyone had captured this exact view and marketed it. The water sparkled as the early-morning sun shone on it, not a ripple to mar the picture. That meant there was no wind, and Shelby hoped the entire day would continue like that. Although she’d never gotten seasick, she was not a happy traveler when there were waves, even for such a short distance. She knew she had to get a move on when a couple more castle volunteers tried to board. She followed them, found a place to stash her goodies inside the cabin, then went outside again and leaned on the railing, enjoying the slightly chilly breeze.

  Her mind was on another, less pleasant, track as she walked up the stairs to the castle. That murder. She knew that’s what had brought on all the stress. A small part of her wondered if the killer might strike again. But that was silly. Wasn’t it? There was no reason to think there was a plot to sabotage the castle by doing in its staff. No serial killer on Blye Island.

  Another part of her wondered if the police might be hard at work at that ver
y moment, looking more closely at her and Aunt Edie. She knew they had nothing to hide, nothing to be worried about, but that’s what happened when a murder hadn’t been resolved. It was all too easy to let one’s imagination run wild.

  And then, of course, she’d promised Edie she’d do some investigating of her own, to help Matthew. What a useless idea that had been. What did she know about sleuthing, aside from what she’d read in her pile of mysteries?

  But what if it was one of the volunteers who’d done it? It had to have been someone on the island, right? And, therefore, someone she worked with. That made sense. Shelby had heard Loreena tear into a couple of the other castle volunteers that fateful day, and she could imagine what it had been like for them during training sessions. But why leave her body in the grotto? Unless someone had followed her there and then done her in on the spot. She wondered whom to ask for a list of names, and then she wondered what she’d do with it if she had it. It had been a long time since she’d lived in the area. She didn’t know anything about relationships and possible feuds.

  But she did want to find out more about the town and the people who lived there, especially since she’d decided to make this her home. If she happened to solve the murder while she was at it, so much the better. She knew she had a lot to learn on both counts.

  * * *

  Shelby felt keyed up when she got off the shuttle back in the Bay at the end of the workday, so rather than going straight home, she decided a walk through the village might help. She first stopped in at what had quickly become her favorite spot for retail therapy, Driftwood and Seawinds. The bright and breezy white-and-blue interior made Shelby think about summer vacation homes, although she’d never had one of those. But if she did, these would be the colors she’d choose. On her last visit the week before, she had spent forty minutes meandering through the store that must have been all of six hundred square feet. It just felt so relaxing to be in there, and although small in space, it had a lot to admire and look at. She’d left happy and not feeling the slightest guilt about her purchase: a wooden statue of a French chef with an armful of baguettes and a glass of wine in his hand. She’d named him Marcel, and it was her “welcome back home” gift to herself.

  Today she made a vow to window shop only. Her salary, which had never been that large while she worked at the publishing house, was even less these days. She’d lucked into renting the houseboat at a very affordable monthly rate, although she’d wondered if Edie’d had a hand in that. Shelby would try to find out, because she didn’t want to be indebted to anyone, not even her wonderful aunt.

  Fortunately, the two Noland sisters who owned and ran the shop were busy with other customers, so Shelby wouldn’t feel obligated to go nuts shopping that day. Of course, there was never any pressure. Maybe that’s why she always felt she should buy something every time she visited. Shelby wandered, adding a couple of items to her wish list—a battery-operated pepper mill with a light and a small watercolor of lemons that would look great on the kitchen wall.

  Shelby didn’t hear Peggy Noland walk up behind her and was startled when Peggy said, “I hope you don’t mind my saying this, Miss Cox, but just seeing you standing there, so engrossed by that painting, you reminded me of your mother.”

  Shelby turned in surprise to face Peggy, one of the owners. “You knew my mom?”

  “Not well. She was younger, of course, but a good customer for a while.”

  “Can you tell me anything else about her?”

  Peggy eyed her quizzically. “Not really. The person to ask would be your aunt, of course, or maybe even Izzy Crocker. They chummed around, I hear.”

  “I’m not sure who that is.”

  “She’s a member of the Garden Club and the library board. Quite a bit of money in that family. Oh, excuse me, I have someone ready to pay for her purchase.” She gave Shelby a broad smile and hurried back to the counter.

  This Izzy Crocker was obviously someone Shelby had to track down, and soon. She went next door to Chocomania after, suddenly craving another truffle. That brought the day’s count up to two. Tomorrow she’d start jogging. Yeah, right. She was pleased to see that it was still open. The bell above the door tinkled as she pushed it open.

  “Hi, Erica. I hope you don’t mind a late customer.”

  Erica looked up from her computer. She still looked fresh, even though her hair was even a bit more unkempt. “Customer? You want to eat some more truffles today?”

  “What do you mean, more? The ones I picked up this morning were for our customers. Well, maybe I had one. But that’s all. Quality control, you know.” Shelby smiled.

  Erica laughed. “So do you need more already?”

  “Just one for the road. It’s such a long walk home, you know.” Shelby waggled her eyebrows. “How was your day?”

  Erica shrugged. “Business is starting to pick up. I’ll bet this weekend will be a good one with the warm weather forecast. What about you?”

  “Busy enough. Blye Castle makes for a great second location. I hope you’re finding that to be the case too. I seem to be replacing your truffles a lot.”

  “You bet. I’m so pleased you thought to add them to the store. It wouldn’t have been worthwhile for me to add a second location, not with having to bring in more staff. Plus, the gift store at the castle already has a big candy selection, doesn’t it?”

  “Candy, yes. But nothing can top truffles. I’ll need to pick up some more tomorrow, by the way.”

  Erica grinned. “Lovely. Any more word on the murder?”

  “No, but I meant to tell you, I got a visit the other night from Coast Guard Investigative Service Special Agent Zack Griffin, and I bumped into him again last night. Do you know him?”

  “Of course I do. He spent a lot of summers here, and you know, the big-city boys were a big deal for us small-town girls. He’s a nice guy and a good customer these days. Why? Interested?”

  “Me? No. Well, maybe. I was just surprised he wanted to question me about the murder. I mean, since when do they do that? I thought they were all about immigration and smuggling. And, of course, incidents on the water. But then Cody Tucker started talking about the possibility of a smuggling operation being run through the grotto again. And, I have to admit, I think it makes sense, what with Zack Griffin being involved in the investigation and all.”

  “You mean like in Joe Cabana’s day? Well, if it was happening, it wouldn’t be booze, that’s for sure.” Shelby appreciated the fact that Erica didn’t laugh at her speculation. “Drugs, maybe?” Erica shuddered.

  “That’s a sobering thought. I’d hate to think of anything drug related happening in the Bay.”

  “I have no idea other than wondering if it could be happening again. Do you think Loreena might have surprised some smugglers and they killed her?”

  “Do you? Well, I think that’s something you should wait to hear about, not go looking for answers on your own. You have this gleam in your eyes, and that’s sort of unnerving to me.”

  “Well, it would be better if that’s what it was, a professional smuggling ring or maybe a mobster family at work, rather than Matthew Kessler or one of the volunteers. Or even me,” Shelby added as an afterthought. She shuddered.

  “I doubt Chief Stone would believe there’s organized crime in the area, and I’m certain she’d never believe you’re a murderer.”

  “Why not? I had that argument with Loreena the day she died. But surely she must realize that would be a really flimsy reason to kill someone.”

  The front door opened as Shelby was speaking. Trudy Bryant answered before her daughter Erica could. “Tekla Stone can be one of the most stubborn women I know, next to your aunt that is, but she’s not stupid.”

  “Good to hear. Thanks, Trudy.” Shelby glanced at her watch. “How were sales at the store today?”

  “Pretty good, I’d say. You can tell it’s the start of the tourist season. I think Edie will be pleased.” She walked behind the counter and helped herself to a
double-chocolate truffle and left two one-dollar bills beside the cash register.

  Erica sighed. “It’s on the house, Mom.”

  “You’ll never get rich that way.” Trudy popped the truffle whole into her mouth.

  Erica pretended to look hurt. But Shelby could see the twitch at the side of her mouth. “Maybe I should get going.”

  Erica laughed. “I’ll survive the verbal abuse.”

  Shelby felt a pang. The bond between a mother and daughter. That’s what she’d been missing. She pushed the thought aside.

  “By the way, Shelby, you’re still on for the book club next Wednesday?”

  “For sure. But I’m curious, what did you mean about the chief, Trudy?”

  “Well, have you ever seen Edie and Tekla when they’re in the same room?”

  “Yes, and there’s a lot of tension there. But Edie hasn’t really told me what’s behind it.”

  “Well, don’t tell Edie I told you anything, but they grew up together and were close friends until sophomore year of high school, when Tekla accused Edie of stealing her boyfriend, Jimmy Birch. And then Edie and Jimmy got married right after high school. Well, we were all shocked, more by the fact that Tekla thought she had a boyfriend than by the rest of it. But that story stayed with Tekla all these years, so she’s not exactly harboring any good feelings for your family.”

  “That’s silly. After all these years?”

  Trudy shrugged. “That’s just what I’m assuming because Tekla sure doesn’t talk to me. Oh sure, she’s nice in a fake kind of way when we meet on the street, but I know that’s just for appearances. She has it in for me too because Edie and I are such good friends.”

 

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