The Perfect Plan

by Carina Taylor

  "How's your book?" Libby asked Marcie as she watched her out of the corner of her eye. They were walking the short distance into town, and she was already regretting her clothing choice. It had been so cold during her morning run that she had put on a pair of jeans, brown leather boots, and a red, v-neck t-shirt. Now, Oregon was treating her to the blazing summer sun and ninety-degree heat.

  Libby had finished unpacking her bags after talking with Marcie in the kitchen and then set about answering some emails. She'd received a couple of emails back about jobs she had applied to. Now that she accepted the job in Portland, she needed to let the other options know she was no longer interested. One of the businesses had been a remote accounting and bookkeeping company that had sounded pretty cool, so Libby had emailed them back with a few more questions, more out of curiosity than anything else. Sure, she already had a job lined up, but she wanted to have something to do this summer if possible. Maybe the remote company would let her work for them short-term at least. If Marcie was going to spend several hours writing every day, then Libby was going to need something to keep herself busy — something other than Netflix.

  "You know, I've never written a novel quite like this one. I think I'm a little out of my element," Marcie answered Libby.

  Libby breathed a sigh of relief. She and Evan had been worried about nothing. "You know, you could always ditch this novel and try something different."

  "I thought about it, but I've always wanted to write a murder mystery. I've never killed anyone before, so there's a lot I need to do."

  Libby shook her head rapidly. This conversation was going downhill fast. "You don't actually want to kill anyone, do you?"

  "Well, I'm sure I could — hello, Monty!" Marcie waved at a man standing in his yard. He waved back with his hand trowel and shouted good morning.

  "That's Monty, and he's officially retired. Logged for fifty years and still gets up at three every morning. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm sure I could come up with someone as a victim. I mean, it could be Monty."

  "You know, Marcie, I'm not sure-"

  "Hello, June!" Marcie waved at a woman walking out of her garage with a small dog in her arms. The dog barked and June called hello before she climbed into her car along with the dog.

  "About that murder," Libby started, but Marcie interrupted her again.

  "You're right. I should be careful so no one overhears us. Now wouldn't that cause some problems," she chuckled.

  Libby tried to keep up with Marcie, but she must have competed in the speed walking Olympics, because she could pound the pavement. They had already reached Main Street, and Libby wondered if she would need an electric scooter to keep up with Marcie this summer — maybe a Segway.

  "Murder probably isn't the best idea, you-"

  Marcie interrupted, "Look who it is!"

  A girl stood in front of a large brick building on Main Street. She wore an olive jumpsuit that accentuated her tiny waist. She had gold bracelets lining her wrist and gold wedges that gave her a couple more inches in height, making her over six feet tall. She was holding her phone out at arm's length, and Libby assumed the girl was taking a selfie.

  When they got closer, she saw that the girl was snapping a picture of a "For Lease" sign. It was the same building that housed a thrift shop and an antique store.

  The girl turned and smiled at Marcie.

  "Hello, Marcie."

  "Ellie Ramsey! Sweetheart, it's been too long. Or are you going by Ellen now that you're all grown up?"

  The girl laughed. "Not until someone starts calling me Glamma."

  Marcie wrapped the girl in a big hug. "It's so good to see you. Your dad is such a tough cookie that I'm sure he'll be fine, but I know it means the world to him and your mom to have you home. They've been talking about it every time I see them."

  Ellie squeezed Marcie one last time before stepping back.

  "Ellie, this is my friend, Libby. She's staying in town for the summer."

  Libby reached out to shake Ellie's delicate hand and wondered if she would accidentally break it. But the girl ignored her hand in favor of wrapping Libby up in a surprisingly strong hug, squeezing the air out of her. Libby should have been worried about herself. This girl could strangle a python.

  "I've already heard about you," Ellie told her when she finally released her stranglehold.

  "Uh oh, isn't that a bad thing if I have a reputation already?"

  "Nope. I'm Ellie Ramsey. My parents are Beth and Ryan Ramsey; they own the FarmTable restaurant. They said you came in and ate lunch with them the other day."

  That explained the hugging. She liked this girl already. "We're heading to the pub for lunch if you want to come. If that's not against some family code that you can only eat at your parents' restaurant."

  Ellie laughed. "Nope, no family code there. I would love that. I have to make a quick phone call, and then I'll join you guys." She motioned at the "For Lease" sign behind her.

  "Perfect," Marcie said. "We'll get a table before the lunch rush."

  Libby wondered how much of a lunch rush Colter could have as she followed Marcie across the road and down Birch Avenue. The pub had a handwritten sign with their hours on it. Libby noticed that the hours were crossed out several times and changed to earlier and earlier times.

  It took Libby's eyes a minute to adjust as they stepped inside the darkened pub. It was about half full, and Libby could smell the greasy fries and burgers. A young girl who looked like she was still in middle school seated them at a corner booth where they had a view of the entire pub.

  Marcie jabbed an elbow into Libby's side. "Look who just walked in."

  Libby glanced at the doorway. "You mean the walking Ralph Lauren ad?"

  "Yes, that's Lane O'Keefe. He moved here just a couple months ago. He's some type of junker."

  "What?" Libby demanded. "A junker?"

  Marcie waved her off. "You know what I mean. He goes around and buys people’s junk. Antiques."

  Lane O'Keefe wore shorts and a buttoned up, collared shirt that looked like it had been freshly ironed, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shorts looked like they had been ironed, too. She didn't know people even ironed their shorts. His face matched his clothing: smooth skin, bright eyes, straight nose, perfectly sized chin and jawline.

  Not exactly the type she would expect to be called a junker.

  And now Marcie was standing and yoo-hooing for the male model to come say hi. Libby momentarily wondered if she would fit underneath the table – or if she should have ordered a shot of whiskey instead of lemonade.

  Lane sauntered — yes, sauntered — over to their table and greeted Marcie with a hug. What was this, some city ordinance that all citizens of Colter had to hug? She'd have to ask Marcie after he left.

  "How are you doing, Marcie? Good to see you again." He turned to Libby and flashed her with a smile that probably had many women falling at his feet. Libby couldn't help but notice he was missing the twinkle in his eye that Evan had whenever he smiled.

  "Are you meeting someone for lunch?" Marcie asked.

  "No," Lane said. "I'm grabbing lunch before I head to another estate sale."

  "Well, sit on down and eat with us. Whose sale today?"

  "Elsa Swanson is moving into the senior apartments. She set the kitchen on fire again, so her daughter is helping her move."

  Lane slid into the booth next to Marcie just as a flustered man scurried toward their table. The man's rosy cheeks puffed in and out rapidly, and his glasses were fogged over completely.

  "Hi, Hank. You look a little stressed today," Marcie greeted the heavy breather.

  Hank shook his head, and his glasses fell farther down his nose. "One of my cooks didn't show today, and one of my waiters called in sick. I've about had it with this place. Last night, I paid the bills, and it sent me into the red. Well, even deeper into the red than before. And then I got here today and one of the freezers completely defrosted. Ruined a few hundred pounds of goo
d hamburger." He paused long enough to wipe some spit from his goatee. "I'm putting this place up for sale. I can't take it anymore."

  Instead of taking their order in his notebook, he turned around and stormed back to the kitchen.

  "Just out of curiosity — no personal interest invested — has the food safety officer ever been by here?" Libby asked.

  "She has. It's his cousin." Marcie nodded grimly.

  Lane piped up, "I think I've got a can of tomato soup back at the house that has my name on it."

  Marcie waved at him to sit back down. "Don't worry; Shelly doesn't let Hank set foot in the kitchen. And she makes a good French dip."

  "If you say so," Lane said warily.

  "I do."

  Libby caught Lane's eye and gave him a panicked look. He winked as he pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. It had 9-1-1 typed into the keypad. Libby laughed. Of course he had a good sense of humor to go with those looks.

  "Okay, you two, let's take a selfie. I'll add it to my Instagram story." Marcie proceeded to pull a selfie stick from her purse and attach it to her phone. "There, that ought to do it. Crowd on in here."

  And that was how Libby found herself taking a selfie with a soon-to-be murderer and a male-model junk buyer.

  When she was back in her seat, Libby spotted Ellie as she walked into the pub. She glanced around until she spotted Libby and Marcie.

  She walked over quickly and crowded in next to Libby. She immediately turned to Libby. "I just got off the phone with Rick, and he wants me to come over to sign the lease after lunch. Isn't that great?"

  Libby nodded enthusiastically since she had no clue who Rick was and if this was a good thing or not.

  "You mean Rick Horner, who owns the red brick building on Main?" Lane asked. He leaned forward and rested a fist on the table.

  Ellie leaned back in her chair. "Who are you?"

  "He's the junk man," Marcie explained helpfully.

  "I'm Lane O'Keefe. I own the antique store in that same building."

  "Hi, neighbor." Ellie smiled. "I'm going to sign the lease papers this afternoon at Rick's."

  "You're renting the empty space?" He tapped his index finger against the tabletop.

  Libby wondered if Ellie noticed the antique man's glare as he asked the question. Ellie didn't seem that observant to her. Maybe his animosity would blow over before she picked up on it.

  Ellie leaned forward across the table, rested a slender hand on the surface, and smiled. "Yes, I'm renting the space. Do you have a problem with that?"

  So much for Ellie not noticing his animosity.

  Lane responded, "Yeah, I do have a problem with that. I've been talking to Rick about renting that space myself. I was ready to make a deal next time I saw him."

  Marcie piped up, "Why would you want to rent it in the same building you're already in?"

  "I'm looking to expand. I need more room, and I want to stay in that building. It's a good location for me. Trucks can load and unload right there on Main Street in the early morning. I don't need another neighbor taking up that space. Not to mention the parking issues."

  "Don't worry," Ellie assured him while she patted his closed fist. "You'll get used to me."

  With a scowl, he stood, said a quick goodbye to Marcie with an excuse that he didn't want to miss out on the estate sale, and left the restaurant. He must have decided that canned tomato soup sounded better than the company he shared.

  "You know," Libby told Ellie, "I think I might have underestimated you."

  "He wasn't exactly the friendly type, was he?" Ellie said as her pinched forehead relaxed.

  "He did seem a little upset," Libby agreed. "What are you going to do with that space?"

  "I'm opening a boutique."

  Marcie butted in to explain to Libby, "Ellie was going to fashion school in New York. Now that her dad is going through chemo, she's moved back home to be close to her parents. Isn't that the sweetest thing? I don't know many kids who would do that."

  Ellie looked embarrassed at Marcie's praise of her. "I happen to have pretty great parents. Dad's prognosis is looking good, though. It seems to be working. Only three more months of chemo and then radiation before, hopefully, he's done. He'll kick cancer's butt for sure."

  Libby leaned over and squeezed Ellie's hand when she saw the tears in Ellie's eyes. "Of course he will. I met him the other day, and he must be one tough guy, because I would never have guessed he was going through something like that."

  "Mom's been forcing every cancer-fighting food down him that she can." Ellie's countenance brightened as she laughed. "If chemotherapy doesn't kill the leukemia, my mother will. Anyway, let's talk about something else. What are you doing in Colter, Libby?"

  Marcie and Libby exchanged a look. "Well, I'm taking a job in Portland. I'm a CPA, but I don't start until the fall."

  Marcie laughed. "Oh come on, let's tell her the real story."

  Libby smirked. "Alright. So, I know Marcie's grandson, Evan, and he hired me to be Marcie's caregiver."

  Both Libby and Marcie broke into loud cackles. After their conversation about keeping her murder plans a secret, Marcie didn't need a caregiver; she needed a security detail to protect the world from her.

  "Why on earth would he think you need a caregiver?" Ellie asked.

  A guilty look flashed across Marcie's face. "Well, I had hoped he and his mother would come to visit more often, but they seemed to think I needed full-time help." Marcie rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Libby and Evan were neighbors, and she was in between places, so she came here."

  Libby snorted. "I was expecting to find some frail thing sitting in front of Wheel of Fortune when I showed up. Instead, I found this," she jabbed a finger at Marcie, "doing a bunch of yard work and shooting out people's taillights."

  Marcie smiled at Libby. "I'm just sad you won't be here permanently. Oh well, it will be a good excuse for me to come up to Portland more often."

  "You can come stay any time," Libby promised and found that she meant it.

  The rest of lunch flew by, ending with plans to hang out with Ellie in the coming week and to plan a girls’ weekend, including Marcie, in Portland while scouting for a new apartment.

  After lunch, they walked around Colter, and Libby heard an overly detailed backstory on every business in town from Marcie. There were so many names thrown at her that she gave up trying to remember them.

  She was only going to be here for one summer, after all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LIBBY WAS GOING CRAZY. She had done nothing for two days. Two entire days.

  No work.

  No school. All she had done was eat good food and play bingo.

  After her detailed town tour on Friday, Marcie and Libby headed back to the house and took a nap. Afterwards, they ate frozen burritos for dinner then went down to the senior center to play bingo with a fast crowd. It had been an alarming night. Libby had been introduced to the perils of hard hearing and hard heads. Marcie's archrival had been there. Helen. Who happened to be Marcie's next-door neighbor, as it turned out.

  The two women proceeded to bicker about anything and everything. Libby hadn't suspected Marcie of being capable of cattiness, but apparently, Helen brought it out in her. Despite Helen and Marcie’s constant arguing, Libby won five dollars playing bingo and decided it was the hardest-fought-for five dollars she'd ever had. She never wanted to play bingo again.

  She had tried to sleep in, since it was Saturday, but her brain wouldn't stop reminding her that she had been idle since coming to Colter.

  From her first day in kindergarten until now, she had had every moment filled. She went to school during the day and had extracurricular activities in the afternoon: sports, band, dance, community service projects, and jobs as she got older. Aunt Leanne had made sure she had something to do every minute of the day. And vacations? Libby wouldn't know a vacation if it hit her in the face. And she was pretty sure that's what was happening.

  She decided s
he didn't like vacations.

  Libby hadn't realized how much she enjoyed working and staying busy with school — until now.

  Now that she had the break she had been craving, she didn't know what to do with it. She enjoyed being busy. She liked knowing where her minutes were going, and now that she was stuck in one place with very little to do, she was afraid her mind would begin to shut down. Could someone's brain atrophy from disuse? She would probably find out this summer.

  In the meantime, she would try to keep the entire town alive, given Marcie's penchant for murder. Maybe stopping Marcie from killing someone would keep Libby occupied. She needed something to keep her mind busy.

  And what was the deal with Marcie? The woman was kind. Welcoming. Slightly unhinged.

  The woman in question sat at the kitchen table with papers spread across the tabletop. Libby noticed a "True Crimes" book and "History of Handguns" sitting on top of a stack of papers. Libby pulled out her phone and added a reminder to buy a Kevlar vest.

  She headed straight for the fridge and opened it then slammed it shut again.

  Something was dead in it — she was sure of it.

  "I think there are some Eggo waffles in the freezer," Marcie said as she continued scribbling away on her papers.

  "Okay, thanks. I'll run down to the market today and do some grocery shopping." Libby found the waffles and pulled them out of the freezer. "Hey, want to finish giving me the tour today?"

  Marcie peered at her over the top of her reading glasses. "You've already seen the whole town."

  "Oh."

  Marcie hurried on. "But don't worry, we have some socializing to do today. And some shopping. Something stinks in the fridge."

  Libby smiled. "I think the mold is growing legs in there. But yeah, I'm excited to meet your friends."

  Marcie picked up her cup of coffee and brought it to her lips for a brief moment before hurriedly setting it down. "Believe it or not, I remember being young and not knowing how to relax."

  "Is it that obvious?" Libby moaned.