Publishable by Death

by A C F Bookens

  “And that, my friends, is the extraordinary Rocky Chevalier. My right-hand woman and daughter of the best baker in town.”

  Walter lifted a half-eaten cinnamon roll and said, “To Rocky and her mom” through a mouthful of bread.

  We all joined suit, “To Rocky and her mom,” and raised our cinnamon rolls high. I caught a glimpse of a customer or two headed into the café then leaving with to-go containers holding Rocky’s mom’s delights. The cinnamon rolls spoke for themselves.

  “Now, what are you two doing here?” I asked after taking a huge swig of the perfectly strong coffee. “I don’t even have your bed made yet.”

  “Oh goodness, woman. Don’t worry about that. The real concern is if you have enough snacks for our Friday night movie binge. We have Get Out and Us to watch, you know?”

  I laughed. “The house is always stocked with Cheese Doodles, Peanut Butter M&Ms, and mini Kit Kats. Anything else is available at our local Food Lion.”

  “Peanut Butter M&Ms, huh? I’m in,” Daniel grinned. I felt Stephen kick me under the table just before the color flushed my cheeks.

  “The more the merrier,” Stephen said as he winked at me. “I’m always happy to invite people over to other people’s homes.”

  “Well, in that case,” Rocky chimed in from the counter, “Count me in, too. Those movies terrified me, and it was awesome.”

  “Looks like we have a plan for Friday night then,” I said as I stole a glance at Daniel. He was looking right at me and smiling. I blushed again and then looked away quickly. “But really, why are you guys here early?”

  “Mart told us the grand opening was amazing, and we had some extra vacation time stored up. We couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it than seeing our favorite bookshop owner and being by the brackish waters of the Chesapeake Bay.” Stephen squeezed my hand.

  “Don’t let him fool you. He had to look up the body of water and the word brackish on the plane.” Walter slipped his arm around his husband’s shoulder and tugged. “Mostly, he just wanted to see you.”

  I felt tears leap to my eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I grabbed Walter’s hand, too, and squeezed.

  We all sat quietly for a few minutes sipping our coffee, or in my case, refilling my mug, Then, Walter said, “So you’re the town mechanic? I hope it’s not insulting to say that I find that quaint in the best way.”

  Daniel laughed. “Not insulting at all. A lot of things here in St. Marin’s are pretty quaint. Of course, quaint can also be a synonym for claustrophobic, but mostly, it’s just nice. I grew up in a big city, so I love knowing my neighbors and their pets. It makes me feel at home, I guess.”

  “You grew up in a big city?” I was surprised, but I didn’t know why. I knew nothing about this man, and despite popular belief held by a lot of urban dwellers, you can’t spot a country person by the hay sticking out of their mouth or the gun rack in their pick-up truck. Daniel just seemed like he fit so well here, and he knew everyone.

  “Yep. Chicago. But it wasn’t for me. Too fast. Too many people. Too much traffic.”

  “You’d think that lots of cars would be good for a mechanic?” Stephen quipped.

  “You would. But not for me. I like knowing the people who come to my shop. After all, a car is like a family member. It needs to be cared for well and regularly. A lot of folks in Chicago who drive are commuters, so they take their cars to garages in the suburbs. I knew I needed a smaller place.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “But why St. Marin’s?”

  “Would you believe I was sailing around the world after high school and ended up here?”

  “No way.” I tried to keep my mouth from hanging open.

  “Oh, I didn’t say I did that, just asked if you’d believe I did. I have my answer.” He bumped my arm with his elbow. “Did you know that gullible isn’t in the dictionary?”

  I bumped him back and hung my head with embarrassment. I couldn’t help smiling though. This guy was funny. Stephen kicked me under the table again.

  “Actually, I came this way to go to Salisbury on a baseball scholarship, but it turns out that college isn’t really for me. I’m much more of a hands-on guy.”

  Just then, Marcus came in from the back of the store. I had totally forgotten he was here, and from the looks of him, he’d worked straight through lunch and everything. “College wasn’t really for me either,” he said as I handed him a tall glass of ice water. “The dorms were what got to me . . . another person I don’t know all up in my stuff? Nah.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I had this one roommate. She’d go to bed every night at eight and play some sort of flute music for hours at full blast. If I never hear a flute again, it’ll be too soon.”

  Marcus laughed. “So, Ms. Beckett, we’re all set. I cleaned up all the weeds and picked up a bunch of trash, too. I left a couple of piles by the corner of the building, but if you’ll tell me where you want them, I’ll—”

  “Marcus, you have done more than enough.” I headed toward the register. “Let me pay you, and you can go get a shower and head out for the rest of your day.”

  I saw him wince, but chalked it up to the aches and pains of hard labor. “Thanks, Mrs. Beckett. I appreciate it.” He waved at everyone and then took his skateboard out the door.

  “Nice kid,” Stephen said.

  “Hard worker, too. I hope I can give him more work soon. It’s hard to find a job these days without a college degree.”

  “Yep, even back in my day – back in the dark ages – it was hard,” Walter said. “I fought my way through college, but I hated it. It was just really not ideal for me, and I don’t remember anything from any of my classes. Put me on a construction site, though, and I am in my element.”

  “You work construction then?” Daniel asked, and I applauded his sincerity. Walter was tall, lean, very well dressed, and had hands soft as a baby’s bottom. He did not look like the stereotype of a construction worker at all.

  “I did. For about fifteen years. Steel worker. But then, they figured out I was good with planning and people, so I moved into management.”

  “Walter is being modest. He owns one of the biggest commercial construction companies in California.” I loved bragging about my friends.

  “That’s amazing,” Daniel said with a huge smile. “There’s nothing like the freedom – and the stress – of owning your own business.”

  “You know it,” Walter smiled at Daniel, and then I felt his foot nudge mine. Anymore footsie under this table, and we’d need a soccer ball.

  “But you know what we need to know, right? Tell us about this person who was killed here. Are you okay?” Stephen asked.

  I had almost forgotten about Stevensmith’s murder. Between my ever-growing crush on Daniel and the arrival of my two friends, I had been totally distracted for thirty minutes. Remembering felt like a huge thud in my day. Still, pretending it hadn’t happened wouldn’t make the fact disappear, so I caught my friends up all the way through the orange piece of paper and Divina Stevensmith’s strange and emphatic feelings about the color orange.

  “I thought so,” Stephen gave Walter a look. “She’s sleuthing.”

  I tried to avoid eye contact, but Stephen grabbed my chin and turned my face toward him. “You can’t help it, can you?”

  “I’m just asking a few questions. Nothing major.”

  “I thought Sheriff Mason was investigating pretty seriously.” Daniel’s voice sounded concerned.

  “Oh, he is. He is. I guess I’m just curious by nature.”

  “Better than naughty,” Walter said almost under his breath before his eyes got wide. “Oh my goodness, did I say that out loud?”

  I blushed for the kabillionth time this morning. “Anyway. No big deal. I haven’t found anything anyway.”

  “Well, not yet, but we do need to talk to Max Davies pronto.”

  Daniel stood up and put his hand on my shoulder. “Be careful, Harvey, okay? This town is small. People will know if yo
u’re asking questions. There are no secrets, remember.”

  I liked the feel of his hand on my shoulder so much that I almost missed what he said, but then, I nodded. “I will. I think I’m being pretty discreet.”

  Stephen and Walter exchanged a look. “You are amazing. Kind. Generous. Easy-going. But discreet you are not,” Stephen said. “Listen to the man. He knows this town better than you do.”

  I stood up, too, sad to feel Daniel’s hand fall away. “Okay, okay. I’ll watch myself.”

  “Good,” all three men said at once. I laughed. “Thanks, men.”

  “Alright, where’s your spare key? We took a red-eye, and despite this amazing coffee – thank you, Rocky! – I need a nap big time.” Stephen put his arm around my shoulder.

  “I’ll catch up with you later, Harvey. Maybe come by when the shop closes up to walk you home.” Daniel said as he stood.

  “Oh, you don’t—“

  “That’s perfect. You can just walk Harvey home if that suits,” Walter said.

  I tried to keep my eyes in my head as my friends told someone they barely knew what to do.

  “We are going to be cooking a fine dinner, so join us tonight,” Walter continued. “I hear the seafood is amazing here.” He looked at me. “Don’t worry, Miss ‘I Hate Seafood,’ I have an amazing gourmet burger in mind for you.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Daniel whistled and Taco came running. Well, galumphing might be a more accurate description. “I’ll see you soon, Harvey.”

  The bell rang, and the man and his dog slipped out the front door.

  “Harvey! That man likes you.” Stephen was anything but quiet, and I was pleased, for once, that we didn’t have any customers in the shop at the moment. “And from the flush on your cheeks, I’d say you like him too.”

  “Love is in the air,” Walter chimed in.

  “You two need to stop. I barely know the man.”

  “Since when did that matter? I knew I wanted to marry Walter on our first date. And we were engaged in three months. When you know, you know.”

  “Well, I don’t know anything, so you two go on and get a nap. I’m looking forward to my burger.” I took each man by an arm and walked them to the door. “I’m so glad you’re here, guys. Really. You’ve made my week. Thank you for coming.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it. A friend, a murder, and a little romance. It’s like a movie right here in this little shop.” Stephen gave me a kiss on the cheek and then they headed to my house.

  I headed to the counter, sat down, and put my face on the cool wood. Two evenings with Daniel in one week. I couldn’t stop smiling.

  6

  The rest of the afternoon went by uneventfully. A steady stream of customers, including a mom of a young boy who wanted books that taught him to be compassionate. I could have spent all afternoon recommending titles to her, but when she settled on The Quiltmaker’s Gift, one of my favorites, I was delighted. The illustrations alone made that book worth owning. But the story was sweet and generous, too. I thought her son would love it.

  At exactly seven, Rocky and I turned off the lights and headed out the door. In the past few days, I’d developed the habit of double-checking the alarmed bar I’d had installed on the back door after Stevensmith’s murder, and tonight, I triple-checked it. I didn’t want anything – especially a break-in – to interrupt our dinner tonight. I tried to tell myself that it was because my friends were in town, but mostly, it was a certain dark-haired man and his Basset Hound I could see waiting on the sidewalk.

  Daniel and I strolled in silence for a couple of blocks, and I noted how comfortable I felt. Again. This felt too easy, but maybe that was the way of things that were actually mutual. I hadn’t had much luck with that in my marriage, so I wouldn’t know.

  As we turned off Main Street, Daniel said, “So, Walter and Stephen, I like them.”

  I grinned. “I like them, too. They’re good people, and they’ve been amazing friends to me.” While we walked the last few blocks to my house, I told him about the time Walter had come to pick me up when my tire had blown in an Oakland parking lot at about two a.m. My ex-husband hadn’t answered his phone, and I was at a loss. The other people who had attended the concert with me were leaving steadily, and I was getting more and more nervous waiting in the lot for a taxi. But then, Walter, after getting a text from Stephen who was in Seattle but who I’d texted just for company while I waited for my cab, rolled up and got me. He drove me home, making jokes all the way. I felt embarrassed, but I also felt so grateful. “They really are amazing.”

  “I can tell,” Daniel said as we walked up to my house. All the lights were on, and I could see Mart dancing by the kitchen island. It was going to be a good night.

  Sure enough, when we opened the door, a puff of warm, garlic-scented air engulfed us, and the sounds of Little Big Town spilled out. Neither Mart nor I were country music fans, but there was just something about that group’s harmonies that made us happy. Apparently, Walter and Stephen felt the same way because when I turned the corner from the foyer into the kitchen, they were both singing into wooden spoons . . . and they weren’t bad either.

  “Nice harmony, guys,” I said as I draped the scarf Mart had crocheted me during her “yarn phase” of 2016. That year, she had made everyone we knew scarves and had gotten strangely invested in Maggie Sefton’s knitting mysteries. She even made me take a road trip to Fort Collins so we could visit the town that the books were set in. When she saw the yarn shop that inspired the theme for the books, she had teared up. It was a tender year for both of us. I was happy that 2017 was the year of baked goods and thrillers. It made for a little less wool and a few more scary movies accompanied by macaroons.

  “Daniel, glad you’re here,” Walter said as he headed toward my fridge. “Beer or wine?”

  “Beer, please.”

  “You got it. Light or dark?”

  “Light.” Walter popped the cap off a Corona and handed it to Daniel.

  I made my way to the fridge and opened it up. When I’d left that morning, we’d had half a loaf of bread, some really good gouda, leftover boxed mac and cheese, and eighteen jars of pickles. Now, the fridge was jammed with fresh herbs in glasses of water, a whole shelf of fresh produce, and more wine and beer than I could count. The guys had been shopping.

  I poured a glass of Chateau St. Jean Chardonnay and turned to Stephen. “You remembered.”

  “How could I forget? You gush about that place all the time. Plus, it has that quirky name that seems French but is really just super-American. Chateau St. Jean,” he looked at Daniel, “like denim or genetics, not the French man’s name. Weird, right?”

  “Definitely weird.” Daniel winked at me as he took a sip of his beer, and I felt my knees give a little.

  Mart gave me the signal – meaning, she grabbed my hand and dragged me into my bedroom – and said, “Daniel is here!”

  I tried to play it cool. “Yes, I know. I brought him.” But then, I broke down and giggled. “I know.”

  “Okay, okay. We’re so cool.” She let out a long breath. “And he winked at you.” She giggled this time. “Okay, cool, cool.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me back. We were anything but subtle in our silliness, but none of the guys seemed to mind.

  Mayhem and Taco had passed out on the rug by the fireplace, and Aslan was tentatively getting comfy on the chair near the heat but not too near the dogs. It was clear that she resented the dogs taking her space, but her sense of self-preservation kept her near her escape route, the bookshelf.

  Soon, Walter and Stephen served us the most glorious-smelling seafood and a burger so big that I needed two hands to hold it, and we all tucked in. The food was amazing, and I kept looking around the table with sheer delight. These were my people, and they were here for me. Even Daniel . . . or at least I hoped Daniel was going to be one of my people. I tried not to think my person.

  As we all finished up our meals and I considered undoing the button on my
jeans, Mart smacked a hand on the table and said, “I totally forgot to tell you,” she looked at me, “but I stopped at the farmer’s market today to see Eleanor about some centerpieces for our big gala in a couple of weeks. And as I walked in, the sheriff was leaving. Eleanor looked like death warmed over. Her hands were shaking.”

  “Oh my goodness. Did she say what happened?” I leaned forward, my hands gripping the table edge. My mind had immediately gone to that little corner of paper and the origami flowers Eleanor had in the window.

  “She didn’t give me all the details – I think she was embarrassed – but she said Sheriff Mason had been asking her questions about Stevensmith and her death. I got the impression she had just been questioned, maybe as a suspect.”

  Walter said, “Ooh, now this is getting good. Is she a suspect?” He looked at me.

  Part of me wanted to say, “How should I know?” but the honest part of me nodded. “I think maybe she is.” I told them about the flowers in the window of her shop, and a tiny glimmer of something important passed behind my eyes too quickly for me to catch it. I made a mental note to come back to that idea.

  “So now we have three suspects? Max Davies, Divina Stevensmith, and Eleanor Heron,” Mart said with a bit of mischief in her tone. “The plot thickens.”

  I caught Stephen and Daniel exchanging a worried look and didn’t know whether to be put out or pleased that everyone was bonding so well. “What?!” I said to the pair.

  I saw a little pink moved into Daniel’s cheeks as he avoided looking me in the eye. Stephen couldn’t get off so easy though as I grabbed his cheeks and made him look at me, just as he’d done to me in the café earlier. “What?!”

  “Just last time you snooped into a murder . . . ”

  “Wait, what happened last time? There was a last time?” Daniel looked from me to Stephen and back to me again.

  I let out a hard sigh. “Yes, and it all ended fine.”

  “True. But you almost died.” Stephen could not keep his mouth shut.