Hardback Homicide: A Shelf Indulgence Cozy Mystery

by S. E. Babin

  8

  A week later, I found Jeff standing in front of my store at ten sharp. I grumbled to myself as I scooped Poppy out of the seat and walked up to the front.

  "I don't have time for this," I said as I unlocked the door. Poppy gave Jeff a half-hearted hiss before she went limp in my arms.

  Jeff scoffed. "Time for a paying customer, you mean? I can't wait to put that on your Facebook page when I give you zero stars."

  I flipped on the lights as he trailed behind me. "I've only seen you buy one thing since you've been visiting and that was just a couple of days ago. Are pigs flying? Are you actually here to buy something else?"

  At his eager look, I clarified. "Besides my shop?"

  Poppy leapt out of my arms with little fanfare and skidded around the corner. It could be seconds or hours until I saw her again.

  “Your cat is weird,” Jeff remarked.

  “She doesn’t like you,” I said as I went around the counter and put my belongings underneath it.

  “The feeling is mutual.” He looked around the shop, his gaze missing nothing.

  "Are you here for a book then? If you aren't, I have a lot to do today so I'm sure you can see yourself out."

  "My brother is here," Jeff said.

  When he didn't say anything else, I raised my eyebrows and put my hands on my hips. "So?"

  "He wants to meet you." Jeff fidgeted, his feet shuffling over the carpet.

  A grin formed on my face. "And so, he sent you here as his errand boy?"

  "No," he snapped. "He picked up a shift today and sent me to ask you if you'd drop by the library. I guess he didn't want to make a personal call on his first day."

  "A personal call?" That didn't sound right.

  "You know what I mean. He didn't want to use the phone. So here I am." Jeff walked over to my new releases display and began to touch everything. I wasn't sure the man knew how to remain still. "He mentioned something about a bunch of books donated that he already has copies of."

  I decided to take mercy on him. "If I have time, I'll stop by." While I had him here though ... "Do you know Marcy and Carrie?" I rubbed the side of my eye as I tried to remember their last name. I didn't think the police told me. "I can't remember their last name, but they live on Spruce."

  Jeff's gaze narrowed. "I do," he said slowly. "Why?"

  "I'm sure you've heard what happened to Marcy. I heard their entire street was bought up by investors."

  His face went blank which told me I might be onto something. "Don't you think it's a reach for it to be a coincidence that Marcy died right after she refused to sell to those people again?"

  His stare was cold. Jeff wasn't a bad looking guy, but his personality was so terrible that it made him unattractive to me. Occasionally I'd seen bright spots in him, but today it was like looking at an arctic storm. His brown eyes were on the lighter side, more hazel if I had to guess. His face was ruggedly handsome with a strong jaw line and a straight, patrician nose. He had a great smile if he ever used it. Around me it was almost non-existent. Dark hair was clipped and styled, and I'd never seen it mussed, even when the day was really windy, not uncommon around here.

  "That sounds like a question for the police." Jeff tugged his jacket closer. "Are you going to visit my brother?" he asked.

  I shrugged. "I'll try." It was a non-answer and we both knew it. "Were you involved in the investment deal?"

  Jeff sighed. "These questions you're asking ... they're going to get you into trouble."

  "You didn't answer my question." My hands gripped the edge of the counter tightly as I waited for him to admit he was involved.

  He slowly shook his head. "I'm not involved with the investment company." His mouth turned down. "I asked Marcy to sell to me twice and she refused. The investment company came in and offered more money than I could for those houses." He snorted. "They want to develop the land over there and put in an upscale strip mall."

  I nodded slowly. "And what did you want to do with it?" I didn't want Jeff to suddenly feel like he was a hero or something for getting outbid. The odds were good he wanted to do something similar.

  "New houses," Jeff said. "The ones on that road are all in a state of disrepair. If not on the outside, then the inside. I figured I could put up some pretty beach houses there." Jeff shrugged. When he saw my surprise, a small smile lit his face. "I'm not a total monster."

  Hmm. Maybe not. But he should still be considered a suspect considering he was trying to pressure Marcy to sell. If she ended up selling to him and not the investors, Jeff could have made a lot more money, too.

  "I suppose not," I agreed, but I wasn't sure. Jeff was an opportunist, and I had a hard time liking those kinds of people.

  He shook his head knowing I didn't believe him. "My job here is done." But before he went out the door, he stopped. "Is Harper due in today?"

  "Umm. Yes."

  He nodded and walked out. Huh. Wonder what was up with that.

  * * *

  The woman in question breezed into the shop about half an hour later. "Hey, Dakota!" she called as she pushed the door open with her hip. In her hand was a drink container holding two large coffees from down the street.

  "You're a lifesaver," I said as I rushed over to help her.

  I took the drink container and held the door as she struggled with her shoulder bag and a canvas bag. "Are you moving in? I asked her.

  "Hardly," she said, "though this would be a good place to live if I ever needed it." She sat the bag down on the counter. "These are books my book club donated. There's some really good ones in here, so whatever you can’t sell, I'll see if the library wants."

  "Cool." I walked over to paw through the bag. There were some brand-new bestsellers in there and I could definitely use those. I set my coffee cup down and pulled out all of them to take a quick look. I'd done inventory here so often I knew almost every book we had by heart.

  "Hey," I said to Harper as she got situated for the day. "Jeff was in here earlier. He was asking if you worked today."

  I glanced up and noticed her cheeks were flushed with color when they weren't a second ago. "Harper?"

  She met my eyes and looked away, her fingers twisting in her hands nervously. I gasped in surprise. "Oh my goodness. Harper! Are you and Jeff ...?" I swallowed hard. "Dating?"

  She blinked. "No!" Harper shook her head. "No," she repeated. "He did ask me out."

  My eyebrows went up to my hairline. "Jeff asked you out?"

  She nodded, her cheeks still bright red. "I haven't given him an answer yet."

  I walked over and sank into a seat. "It seems like you're leaning toward yes." Harper was available, gorgeous, and highly intelligent.

  She didn't say anything. I blew out a breath. "Help me understand this. Don't we hate him?"

  A snort came from her. "I ran into him two towns over at their Italian Festival. He was by himself and so was I." One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "We decided to walk around together." She fidgeted with her fingers. "He was pretty nice," she said softly.

  I held up my hands. "Okay," I said. I couldn't believe it. "Does this mean we forgive him for pressuring me to sell this place?"

  "Absolutely not," she said as she twisted her coffee cup out of the holder. "I remain staunch in my defense of Tattered Pages." A dimple peeked out as she smiled. "Maybe if I do decide to go out with him, he'd chill out about this place."

  Hope flared in me for a second but died a quick death. "Oh Harper, you don't have to worry about that. I'll be fine. You date Jeff if you want to." I made a zipping motion against my lips. "I'll never say a word, and I'll never judge. I promise."

  "Good." Harper exhaled deeply. "I still haven't made my mind up, though. Tell me about what's happening with Marcy. Anything new?" She turned and grinned at me. "I'm sure you grilled Jeff alive over it when he was here."

  I nodded. "Of course, I did. He claims he had nothing to do with it. I believe him. It doesn't completely exonerate him, though. He was still goi
ng over there to try to get her to sell. The investment company just beat him to it."

  "But Marcy didn't sell to anyone, did she?" Harper took the lid off her coffee and blew on it.

  "No. That company overbid Jeff and bought up the entire street. She was the only holdout."

  "Hmmm. That looks bad," she agreed.

  "It really does. Jeff is caught up in it whether he wants to be or not."

  "It's looking more and more like murder, isn't it?" Harper asked sadly.

  "Unfortunately. I couldn't get any info from Detective Cavanaugh." I told Harper about the man looking to sell Marcy's books in the town over. Her jaw dropped with surprise.

  "Poor woman," she murmured. "She had two things people would kill to have. I guess they need to figure out which one it was."

  "The land was more valuable than the books at the end of the day. Especially if the investors were looking to build on it. Carrie is most likely her next of kin and the one who would inherit the house. Maybe she cut some kind of deal with the investors."

  "Her own sister?" Harper shook her head. "That's terrible. Let's hope not."

  I stood up and stretched. "I hope not, too. I'm going to walk around and see if we can get some donations for the Harvest Fest. You okay here for a while?"

  Harper saluted me with her mug. "Absolutely."

  "Good." I grabbed my jacket and scarf off the hook. Poppy came running out from behind one of the shelves and twined around my legs. I reached down to give her a good scratch behind her ears. "She hissed at Jeff this morning," I said to Harper as I opened the door.

  "Bad kitty," Harper said without any heat.

  Grinning, I shrugged on my coat and walked into the cupcake shop next door. It was a little too early for cake, so that meant Trudy should have some time to talk. I stopped in front of her store and inhaled deeply. The cool crisp air combined with the smell of freshly baked cake, vanilla, and the smell of fall spices. Walking in, I raised a hand as Trudy looked up.

  "Hi!" I called.

  Her face split into a smile. She brushed flour off her hands and came out from behind the counter to give me a hug. I inhaled her spicy perfume and returned her grip. Trudy was an enthusiastic, wonderful hugger.

  "I haven't seen you in a few days!" she said, her eyes sparkling with good humor. She was one of my favorite humans. Sweet, giving, funny, and she made delicious cupcakes. Her expression sobered. "I heard about what happened to that poor, poor woman. Nasty business, that."

  "I hope they find out what happened soon," I said. "But, I'm here for a different reason. We're planning the Harvest Fest and we're a little behind. I was wondering if you'd like to maybe donate some paper plates or cups or ... anything?" I wiggled my eyebrows which made her laugh.

  "Sure, honey. Put me down for the paper plates. You're having a baking contest this year?"

  I nodded, and she gave a little excited dance. "Tell me about it. What's the dessert?"

  "Fall pies and drinks," I said. I looked around her shop and sighed. She always did everything so gorgeously. "Your store looks great."

  Her display was full of fall baked goods. The cupcakes were the staple and lined up neatly, but in honor of the season, she’d stocked pumpkin scones, pumpkin pies, spice cakes, all the things I loved. She'd strung fall decor from the ceiling, pretty orange lights and brown acorns. The windows were decorated with fall leaves, pumpkins, gourds, and cornucopia with cookies spilling out. The tables were spread out and decorated with orange tea lights.

  "Thanks," she said, flushing with pleasure. "My daughter and I came in early yesterday to get it all done." She untied her apron and took it off. "Would you like to try a new coffee recipe?" She rolled her eyes. "It's been a nightmare to get exactly right, but I'm really close. It's the newest batch."

  "Sure. What is it?" I was a sucker for coffee of any kind.

  "Pumpkin spice, but there's no syrup in it. I'm trying to blend pumpkin puree and spices to make a thick, fall drink."

  Intrigued, I nodded eagerly. "Yes, please! That sounds awesome."

  "Great." Trudy walked to the back as I sank into a seat at one of the tables. I quickly checked my phone before I stuck it back in my pocket.

  A few minutes later, Trudy came back and handed me a mug brimming with cinnamon, chocolate shavings and whipped cream. "Holy moly." I took the mug and set it down carefully. "Stir or no?"

  "Up to you. I'd dip the spoon in and scoop up some of the coffee with the whipped cream." Trudy took a sip and her eyes lit up. "Oh man. This might be the best yet."

  I took a spoon from the table and carefully dipped it in. I made sure I got a little of the coffee and everything in one spoonful. As soon as it hit my mouth, I knew she had a winner. "Oh. My. Gosh," I said. "This is amazing. You have to enter this into the contest. I know you'll win." The drink was slightly thicker, almost like a homemade hot chocolate. The pumpkin flavor was profound, but it wasn't artificial. It was well spiced. I could taste cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and ... "Black pepper?" I questioned.

  "Yep," Trudy proclaimed proudly. "For a little heat and to bring all the flavor together."

  "This is really amazing," I said. "I'd hold this recipe close to the vest. Tell no one."

  "I plan on it." She winked at me. "Our secret?" Trudy held up her mug, and I clinked mine against it.

  "As long as I can have a to-go mug of it."

  She snorted. "Of course."

  I took another sip and wanted to moan at how delicious it was. There was pumpkin spice and then there was ... this. Whatever this was. It was fall encapsulated in a small, decadent drink.

  I loved this time of year in this town, and I loved people like Trudy. They kept this place breathing with art and culture.

  I stuck around for a while to finish my mug and make sure she handed over the to-go cup she promised me. If Trudy didn't win the drink contest at the festival, I'd eat my scarf.

  9

  I spent two hours walking up and down the streets to the shops in the middle of town and by the time I finished, I had volunteers for just about everything we needed to put on the festival. I could donate all the plastic cups and warmers for all the drinks we needed. One of my mom's friends had a catering company, and I knew she'd let us borrow them.

  I was just about to walk into my shop when a familiar blond head came around the corner.

  Cole Gardener. His face lit up when he saw me, but his expression faltered when he noticed my sour expression. I walked into the shop without greeting him and seriously considered locking the door.

  "Harper!" I called.

  She came out of the back, alarmed. "Dakota? Everything okay?"

  I exhaled heavily. "We're about to have a journalist in here. Give him nothing about anything, okay?"

  Harper blinked. She was holding several paperbacks in her arms. "Okay," she said. "Why is he here?"

  "He showed up at Marcy's house and wanted information." I shrugged off my jacket and hung it back up. I kept the scarf twined around my neck because I was still really cold. "I didn't tell him anything, but those guys never give up. Maybe if he gets it from you too, he'll stop coming around."

  The bell jingled over the door from behind me. I gave her a meaningful look and spun around.

  Cole stood there, his nose adorably red. He wore a dark green scarf with a charcoal gray jacket. His expression was adorably hurt. "You didn't even say hi!" he accused.

  "Because I bet you aren't here to buy a book, are you? You're here to pump me for information." I lowered my voice, even though I didn't think anyone else was in the store right now. It was right after lunch and we usually slowed way down around then.

  Cole had the grace to look guilty and even that looked cute on him. "I'm just trying to do my job," he grumbled.

  "And I'm trying to do mine. Which is not give you answers to anything. I don't want to be involved in this, Mr. Gardener. I'm just a bookshop owner. That's all. There's nothing interesting about me."

  His intense eyes darkened. "I don'
t know that I'd go that far," he said quietly. "Won't you at least let me buy you a cup of coffee?"

  Harper stepped up beside me. "She'd love that!" she chirped. "Dakota loooooves coffee. All kinds. All day. Any time."

  I gave her a horrified look. In turn, she gave me a smile that looked like a chipmunk hopped up on amphetamines. Her eyes were bright and crazy. "Right, Dakota?" she chirped. "Don't you love coffee?"

  One of Cole's eyebrows rose. His lips quirked up in a small smile.

  "I -"

  Harper gave me a small shove. "I've got everything under control. Go have a cup and when you get back, we can chat some more about the Harvest Fest." Harper leaned forward and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Dakota loves to plan things. She's so organized and efficient."

  Cole blinked.

  "I am so sorry," I began.

  Harper nudged me again. I stumbled forward. Cole choked down a laugh. He held his arm out to me. Sighing, I took it and allowed him to lead me out. He snagged my jacket from the hook. As he was opening the door, I turned back and mouthed, "I am going to murder you," to Harper.

  Scared to death, she gave me a jaunty wave and a wink. Somehow, I'd lost control, and I didn't like it.

  * * *

  The last thing I wanted was another cup of coffee. The pumpkin coffee Trudy had given me was still in a cup on the counter, but I begrudgingly walked with Cole. The air was frigid and fresh, making the tip of my nose cold and forcing me to put my hands in my pockets. I'd forgotten my gloves in the store.

  "Sorry about that," Cole said.

  An unladylike snort escaped me. "I don't think you could have stopped that hurricane even if you tried." I glanced over at him, trying to be casual. He really was cute in a geeky smart way. I wondered if he wore contacts. Was he wearing glasses now in an effort to be more endearing to the bookstore owner? I wouldn't put anything past a journalist. Silverwood Hollow thrived on gossip and it was a journalist's job to find it.

  "I'm not here to trick you," Cole said, a grin teasing the edges of his mouth. "Will you relax?"