by Essie Lang
“I can understand that.”
Stone snorted. “So can I. I was young once, you know, but this is serious business. If they did break into the castle, they could also be murder suspects.”
“But they’re just kids. It would have to have been an accident, in that case, or so I’d bet. Are there any other suspects right now?”
Stone took a few minutes before answering, choosing instead to walk over to the local-authors section of the bookshelves and run her finger across the titles. “I can’t share that with you, as you well know. But let’s just say there are a lot of questions I’d like to get answers to before I close this case.”
“Do you know when Savannah’s agent, Bryce O’Connell, arrived in town?”
Stone swung around. “That’s out of left field. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. I had a drink with him last night.”
“I thought you and that Coast Guard smart-mouth were … you know.”
Shelby felt her face catch fire. She decided to ignore the comment. “Uh, Bryce was wondering about Savannah. And Erica.” She probably shouldn’t have mentioned her friend, but she also didn’t want to talk about her own relationship.
Stone chuckled. “Interesting. Well, he says he arrived Sunday around noon, after the fiancé called him.”
Best not to say anything about Erica’s seeing him on Saturday night until she had confirmation.
Shelby stood as two customers entered the store. She gave the chief an inquiring look.
“I’ll talk to you again, I’m sure,” Chief Stone said. She put her mug down on the counter and nodded to the newcomers as she left.
Shelby let out the breath she’d been holding since she had asked about Bryce. What was he up to, anyway? Maybe she should double-check with Erica. She could have been wrong, after all.
Of course, seeing the chief of police in the bookstore seemed to be all the permission the new customers needed to ask questions about the murder. What was it with this day? Shelby tried to downplay everything as best she could, and she made sure not to give out any relevant information, short of saying no comment. She did manage to make some sales at the same time, though.
Her final customer of the day left an impression. The man looked to be about Edie’s age, meriting the distinguished graying at his temples. His short sideburns were totally white. His jaw was square and stern, but his smile softened the look. Although he was casually dressed in beige chinos and a dark-brown windbreaker, he looked as if he usually hung out in a suit, tie, the works.
“Are you the owner?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Nathan Miller, from Buffalo.”
“Shelby Cox, and yes, I’m one of the owners. My aunt and I have the two stores, this one and the main one in Alexandria Bay.”
“I’ve seen it; in fact, I stopped in there earlier today. This is the more enchanting store, though.”
Enchanting. That was a good word, Shelby decided, but it surprised her to hear this man call it that. “Thank you. I totally agree.”
“Are you the only staff person over here?”
What an odd question. But Shelby felt comfortable answering him; after all, the castle did have a lot of people in it. And he seemed trustworthy.
“I’m the main person, but we usually have a part-timer as well. She’s off on maternity leave right now. Why do you ask?”
He nodded. “And I already know that in the main store there are two people working plus one weekend part-timer.”
“Yes.” She wondered where this was going.
He nodded again, more to himself this time. “Just curious.”
He wandered around, looking more closely at some shelves than others. Shelby continued to watch him. Finally, he came to a stop in front of her again. “I’m just looking for someone, a friend. I’d heard she’d moved to this area. Do you know a woman by the name of Margo Delore?”
Shelby thought about it a few moments. “No, I don’t think I do. Should I?”
“Not necessarily. I just wondered if she was a customer or had maybe even applied for a job. She’s very knowledgeable about books.”
“Uh-uh. It still doesn’t ring a bell. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’d sort of lost track of her over the years, and I was just hoping to locate her at some point. I thought the Bay area would be to her liking. I really do like this store, by the way. You’re to be congratulated.” He glanced at the watch on his right wrist. “Guess I should be going and catch the next boat. Nice meeting you, Shelby Cox.”
“And you.” She watched as he left the store, wondering if he’d ever again meet Margo Delore. Was there a tale of romance there? Or maybe unrequited love—that seemed more logical. She sighed. It was fun to be thinking about romance rather than murder.
Chapter Sixteen
At the end of her shift, Shelby caught the shuttle, keeping to herself and enjoying some thinking time, then headed for Chocomania once the boat had docked. She was pleased to see Erica was alone, although she felt momentary guilt for thinking that. A full shop would have meant good sales for the day.
Erica waved as Shelby walked through the door. And although Shelby had promised herself all talk and no truffles, she couldn’t resist ordering an espresso and a sea-salt dark-chocolate truffle. She grabbed a table close to the counter so they could talk while Erica did the end-of-day clean-up.
“I have an odd question, so please, just indulge me,” Shelby started. “You told me you’d seen Bryce in town early Saturday night. Are you sure it was him?”
Erica leaned on the counter, arms folded. “Why do you ask? Are you playing detective again?”
The door opened, interrupting them. Shelby looked over and knew her feelings must be pretty obvious, what with the big smile that had sprung to her face. “Hi, Zack. What are you doing here?”
He squeezed Shelby’s shoulder as he walked past her up to the counter. “I think I’m doing the same thing as you.” He smiled at Erica and pointed at Shelby’s treats. “The same, please.”
“Right away. Good to see you, Zack. You haven’t been around much lately.”
“It’s called work, unfortunately. I hope my not being here hasn’t cut into your profits too much.”
Erica chuckled. “I’m coping.” She handed him his purchases, and he settled across from Shelby.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
Erica answered before Shelby could. “Not really; we’re just catching up. And, Shelby, I’m very sure.”
“Sure about what?” Zack asked.
“That I should buy some of her new flavors for the bookstore.” Oops, that lie had come out entirely too easily. She hoped she didn’t look as guilty as she felt.
Zack didn’t seem to notice. “How could anything from this store not do well?”
“Well, thank you, Zack. It’s good someone has total faith in me,” Erica answered, then got back to packing away the remaining truffles before closing for the evening, but not before she gave Shelby a meaningful stare.
“So, tell me what’s keeping you so busy, or can you tell me?” Shelby asked Zack.
“I can tell you a lot of things and would be happy to do so over dinner.” He raised his eyebrows to make the statement a question.
“You mean tonight?”
“Right now, yes. Let’s consider this dessert.”
She smiled, suddenly very happy. “I’d love to.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I was hoping you’d say that.” After several seconds he looked over at the counter and asked, “Would you like to join us, Erica?”
“What? Have you never heard the adage two’s company, et cetera, et cetera? Not on your life. Thanks anyway.”
“I like what she’s implying,” Zack said.
“Yes, subtlety is not Erica’s strong suit.” Shelby glanced over in time to notice the look Erica shot her. A friendly set of daggers. Shelby finished the rest of her drink, feeling very content sitting there with her two best friends
—well, one definitely more than that.
As soon as Zack finished the last of the espresso, they bid goodbye to Erica and walked hand in hand toward the Ripe Tomato, a new bistro that had opened earlier in the month, just down the street. She wished she’d worn something more striking—no, something sexier, but that wasn’t a look she cultivated for work. If ever. She’d just have to pretend her blue striped silky shirt and navy leggings were sexy.
It wasn’t very crowded, so they chose a table next to the window. As they settled in, Shelby thought back to her first dinner out with Zack. Not a date, but it had been a start. In some ways it felt like a long time ago, even though it had been only about four months earlier; in other ways, it felt like it had just happened. She had to admit she’d done an about-face in her feelings about not getting involved with him, with anyone. She smiled at the realization that she’d been wrong. This felt so right.
Zack caught her smile and sat with his arms crossed on the table, saying nothing but watching her.
“What?”
“I’m just enjoying being here with you,” he answered. “I’m really not happy when it gets so busy at work and I don’t get to see you as often.”
There was that smile again, and the tingle it sent down her spine.
“I totally agree, but I know that your work with the Coast Guard means unusual hours.” She wanted to say more but suddenly felt shy. She blamed it on old habits learned from living most of her life with only her dad as a guide. And he had liked his privacy. She mentally squared her shoulders. She was her own person now, and this was a part of that life that she really enjoyed.
She looked around the room, pointing to the variety of paintings of tomatoes that hung on the walls. “They really get into it, don’t they?”
Zack followed her gaze. “You know, I like it. It could have been overdone, but they’ve got just the right mix of sizes and colors. Who knew there were purple tomatoes?”
“They’re not something I’ve tried, but I like the vivid colors. It makes me feel relaxed. Look, even the chairs have been painted to coordinate.”
Zack peered at the table next to them. “Huh. I hadn’t noticed that. What else haven’t I paid attention to?”
His gaze had shifted to her, and it was so intense, Shelby didn’t know whether to smile or squirm. They ordered, and then as they waited for their meals, she sipping wine and Zack with a beer, he asked the question she’d been hoping they could stay away from.
“How’s the murder investigation going?” he asked.
She tried to look surprised, but knew from the look on his face that she hadn’t done so.
She tried anyway. “What makes you ask that?”
He leaned forward. “Because I know you, and you’re right in the thick of this, given that it happened at the castle. You might as well admit it.” His blue eyes were even more so. She had fallen for those eyes right off. They looked crinkly at the edges, like they were always smiling, which she took to be a sign of a gentle soul. Tonight, though, his eyes seemed to be mocking her. He knew her so well.
However. “You missed the fact that Savannah had done two book signings for us, so I knew her. And we’d also had dinner together on Friday night.”
“Hmm. I did know that. And even though I’d like to point out that doesn’t give you permission to do any poking around, and I’m sure you’ve already heard that, I also know it won’t make any difference. So, what have you found out?”
“Do you know anything?” She turned his question back at him. “Has the chief shared any information?”
“This isn’t my investigation. I’m not involved in any way, and therefore, I’d be the last person she’d tell. Next to you, that is.” He grinned.
She pretended to pout. “So, why are you asking if you’re not involved?”
He reached out to touch her arm. “As I’ve often said, it’s because I worry about you and I know you’re probably up to your neck in it.”
She felt a shiver, but she wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or dread. She cleared her throat. “I haven’t found out much, I’ll readily admit. But there are a lot of interesting suspects involved.”
“Suspects?” Zack asked, eyebrows raised. “Such as?”
“Yes, or at least persons of interest, whatever that means. There’s Liam, the fiancé. Was he really in love with her and okay with her staying overnight at the castle, or jealous about her past relationship with her agent? Bryce, said agent, lied about when he arrived in town and is anxious to get his hands on Savannah’s laptop, which may or may not mean a thing. Then there are two writers involved. One of them, Jenna, is local, and very publicly accused Savannah of stealing her plot. She did it right in front of customers at the first signing. And now a second writer, Rachel, has shown up saying she’s upset she missed getting to the signing and didn’t get a chance to meet Savannah.”
“And how is that suspicious?”
Shelby shrugged. “Maybe it isn’t, but Rachel said Savannah agreed to have coffee with her after the signing, but she and Liam were already supposed to have dinner with Edie and me. So why would Savannah have made other plans?”
“That’s hardly damning.”
“I know. It’s just one of the things that doesn’t really make sense.” Shelby took a long sip of her water before continuing. “And it’s possible the butler did it. I know, that’s so corny.”
“I was going to say you’re starting to sound like Erica.”
Shelby shot him a quizzical look.
“You know, two’s company, et cetera?” He chuckled when she groaned. “I’d heard there was a butler hired for the night. So, what would his motive be?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t finished talking to him.”
“You haven’t?” he asked in a mock-shocked tone. Then his voice and expression turned serious.
“Why are you doing this? I thought we had a conversation about you not getting involved.”
“You didn’t sound too concerned a few seconds ago.”
“I’m exasperated, Shelby. I don’t know what to do or say. I thought maybe by humoring you I could dissuade you, but I can’t keep it up. I worry about you. I really do like you, a lot, and I don’t want anything happening to you.”
Before Shelby had a chance to gather her thoughts, their food arrived. They both made busy with the silverware and taking their first bites; then Zack leaned forward. “Did you hear what I said?”
“I did, and I know what you want to hear, but I can’t say it.” She shifted uncomfortably on her chair. “I can’t just ignore the fact that Savannah was murdered, and that affects everyone who had anything to do with her. I know I hadn’t known her long, but it is on my mind. I’m sorry.”
He gave his head a small shake. “Just promise me you’ll be careful and call me or Chief Stone if you feel in danger.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I will.”
She wished she could take a photo of the smile Zack gave her. It easily put any thoughts of any investigation on the back burner.
Until later that night, when she ran through all she knew about the murder. Which left her puzzling once again over why Bryce had lied.
Chapter Seventeen
The message light on the landline in the bookstore flashed at Shelby while she set up a small display on the counter, preparing for another day of what she hoped would be big sales. When she finally noticed it, she realized she hadn’t thought to check it when she’d first gotten in. Too many other things on her mind. Well, one, really. The murder.
On her way to the shuttle, she’d stopped by the main store and picked up a bag containing two copies of P. K. Pitt’s book Cruising the Castles. It had turned out to be the best seller of the local bookshelf, and even though the season was nearly over, she wanted to have what was in stock on hand at the castle. Thus, the counter display. The other book was a special order for Mae-Beth, the workshop coordinator.
Shelby had discovered very early on at the
castle that even though the late Loreena Swan had held the title of volunteer coordinator, Mae-Beth was the person who had the better rapport with the volunteers and was, therefore, the one they all turned to when any issue arose. It seemed they still went to her, even though Chrissie tried to do a good job in her new role.
Shelby looked from the display to the phone and decided to check the message first, and then if there was time before opening, she’d go in search of Mae-Beth.
The southern accent alerted Shelby immediately, even before Prissy Newmarket identified herself. Prissy was an old friend of her mother’s, one who had been in the store a few months earlier. She’d been the first contact Shelby had had with anyone, other than Edie, who had known her mom. But even though Prissy lived in nearby Clayton, they hadn’t seen each other again.
Prissy wanted to do something about that, she explained, and invited Shelby for brunch in two weeks, on a Monday, when she and her husband would be back from a short holiday.
Shelby was pleased that Prissy had followed up and also that she’d apparently remembered her day off. She made a note to call back and accept the invitation. Prissy had seemed friendly, and Shelby was also anxious to learn more about the mother she could barely remember.
She shook her head—this was not the time to dwell on all that—and grabbed the book for Mae-Beth, whom she found in the music room.
“The book you ordered is in,” Shelby explained, handing it over.
“That’s wonderful. Thank you so much for ordering it, Shelby. I’ll come by and pay for it right now if you like. My purse is tucked away in the office.”
Mae-Beth looked a bit more harried than usual, but Shelby thought it best not to comment. Her black-and-brown-striped nylon blouse was untucked on one side, and her silver-blue pageboy had sprouts of hair sticking out in places. Shelby did wonder about the workload Mae-Beth had taken on since Loreena Swan’s murder a few months before. Even though an honorarium was involved, it seemed like Mae-Beth should be considering retirement very soon. She had to be at least ten years older than Edie, but then again, it wasn’t Shelby’s place to judge. If Mae-Beth wanted to keep active, that was great. And Shelby was the first to acknowledge the lure of the castle.
