by Ellery Adams
Having no role to play, Nora stood in the driveway and watched the goings-on. She could feel the force of the red letters. They seemed to throb on the wall behind her, but she refused to turn and look at them.
Eventually, she walked to her moped, took out her phone, and called Hester.
“What the hell, Nora?” Hester’s whisper was filled with censure. “Why did you bolt out of here like that? Lou and Patty don’t know what to think!”
“Can you come to June’s? Right now? She could use a friendly face. And a place to stay.”
Nora quickly explained what had happened. She’d barely finished when Hester said, “I’m on my way,” and ended the call.
Seeing that June had exited her car, Nora headed over to where she stood. June was speaking to McCabe and Andrews, and as she talked, tears slipped down her cheeks. She dabbed at them with a wadded napkin.
Nora put a hand on June’s back, offering her wordless support. The sheriff tried to coax the names of possible suspects out of June, but she kept shaking her head and telling him that no one came to mind.
“Do you have a place to stay tonight?” McCabe asked June when he’d run out of other questions.
“She does,” Nora said, pointing to the car pulling into the driveway. She smiled to see a second car pull in behind Hester’s. Estella had come too.
June wasn’t pleased. “You called Hester? She was at that dinner.”
“You matter more than some dinner,” Nora answered.
She then stepped back to allow Hester to race straight up to June and throw her arms around her in a fierce embrace.
“I’m okay, baby,” June whispered, as if Hester was the one in need of comfort.
Hester had clearly called Estella on her way, and Estella didn’t wait for Hester and June to separate but threw her arms around them both. The three women stood there for a long moment, like football players in a huddle, until June beckoned for Nora to join the circle.
Estella made room for her and the four friends held one another. Their touch said, “I love you,” and “I’m here for you,” more powerfully than words ever could.
A man cleared his throat and the women slowly broke apart.
Hester immediately rounded on Andrews. “You need to find out who did this! This is sick. June is the sweetest, most generous. . . well? What are you going to do?”
Andrews, clearly startled by Hester’s anger, opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Feeling sorry for him, Nora put a hand on his shoulder as if to remind Hester that he was a good man. She then looked at the sheriff. “When can she paint over that?”
“Give us twenty-four hours,” McCabe said, turning to June. “I’m sorry that this happened to you—that we live in a place where someone isn’t afraid or ashamed of committing such a heinous crime. We’re going to start working this case right now. In the meantime, what can I do to make you feel safe?”
Though June seemed to appreciate the question, her eyes were dull with sorrow.
“There’s nothing you can do,” she said. “As long as we live in a world where people feel the need to do this to other people, there is no safety.”
Behind the sheriff, Deputy Fuentes dipped his chin in agreement.
McCabe and his men checked every room, closet, and dim corner inside June’s house before making another sweep of her yard. The cats became even more agitated, and Nora was sure that the whole block could hear their cries of distress.
“It’s all right, you crazy beasts.” June tried to hush the cats as she stepped out of her house, carrying an overnight bag. “I’m okay, you hear me? But you’re on your own tonight. So watch your backs. Whoever did this won’t think twice about kicking you.”
During this short speech, the cats had gone quiet. And the moment June opened her car door, they began to disperse. Smudges of gray and black darted across the lawn and dashed into the woods. Only one cat moved in the opposite direction. A big, mangy, orange tom ran straight up to June and rubbed his body against her calf. His movements were filled with nervous energy.
“Go on, now,” June said, trying to shoo him away. “You take care of the others. I’m telling you. I’m okay.”
The tom glanced up at her with an expression of pure adoration before trotting off toward the street.
“I’m going to be up all night worrying about those miserable animals,” June grumbled. “I never wanted a cat, but here I am, surrounded by them. Too bad they didn’t claw the bastard who did this to my house. If I had dogs hanging around instead of these cats, that jackass would be in jail. Or the hospital. Either one would be fine by me.”
Nora took June’s bag and put it in the back seat.
“Thanks for coming,” June said.
Embracing her, Nora whispered, “Whoever did this is a coward. You’re not. You’ve worked hard to find peace in this town. And in this house. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”
“I’ll try not to,” June whispered, and got in the car.
With her friends gone and the sheriff and his deputies already knocking on neighbors’ doors, there was nothing for Nora to do but go home.
She didn’t want to go home. She wanted company. Not the kind of company that ended up with her naked on Jed’s mattress, but the company of a friend. She called Estella and asked if she wanted to meet at the Pink Lady.
“I know it’s after eight, but I haven’t eaten yet.”
“I’m in,” Estella said. “I don’t really want to be alone right now, anyway. Hester will make June some tea and the two of them will snuggle up on the couch. That leaves the two of us.”
“I’ll snuggle with you,” Nora said, going for levity. “As long as you let me eat.”
Because Estella had a car, she beat Nora to the diner by several minutes. Sitting in her favorite booth at the back of the diner, she was so caught up in her conversation with Jack Nakamura that she didn’t see Nora come in.
“Hey,” Nora said, and slid into the seat across from Estella.
Jack smiled at Nora. “Estella says you’re here for a late dinner. I’ll make you anything you want. Just name it.”
“I’d love a Pink Lady breakfast sampler,” Nora said. “There are times when only breakfast can make a girl feel better.”
Jack smoothed his white apron. “Crisp bacon and rye toast buttered in the kitchen, right?”
“You always remember.”
“I remember everything about my favorite customers,” he said, and flashed Estella another hundred-watt smile before heading into the kitchen.
A waitress appeared carrying a strawberry milkshake. “Here’s your shake, sweetie. Jack said to put extra cherries on top, so I gave you seven. That’s my lucky number.”
The waitress bustled off to clear dishes from another table.
Nora looked at the cherries sitting on a pillow of whipped cream. “Are you sure that you and Jack are just friends?”
“Yes. Let’s focus on June, not me.”
Nora rubbed her temples. “Sorry. I’m wound pretty tight. Seeing that word on her house really pissed me off. I feel so helpless, and it didn’t happen to me. I wasn’t the victim of a hate crime. Who would do this to June? She’s one of the finest people I’ve ever met.”
“She honestly has no clue?” Estella asked.
“That’s what she said. She hasn’t been in any arguments. She didn’t offend any guests at the thermal pools. She didn’t even flip off the guy who almost forced her off the road because he was texting.”
“I would have given him the bird with both hands,” Estella said before popping a cherry into her mouth.
At the mention of a bird, Nora’s thoughts shifted to Danny.
The waitress returned with Nora’s decaf and a promise that her food would be out shortly. Nora waited for her to leave and then told Estella about her visit to Marie. When she was finished, she showed Estella the photo of the red bird at Cherokee Rock.
“I don’t remember seeing that before,” Estella said. �
��All the times I’ve been to that rock, you’d think I’d recognize it. I do know someone who could tell us if it’s new. Mr. Buckley, my high school history teacher. He’s retired, of course, but whenever I see him around town, we stop for a chat.”
“If you’d give him a call, I’d appreciate it.” Seeing Jack heading their way with a breakfast platter, Nora spoke quickly. “I asked Sheldon to swing by the salon tomorrow. He can’t promise a miracle, but he’ll take a look.”
“I hope he can help. I’m getting desperate. I figure I have three months and after that . . .” She shrugged. “Making women beautiful is all I know how to do. It’s what I was born to do. I don’t want to spend my life doing a job just to pay the bills. That doesn’t sound like living. It sounds like a very slow death.”
Jack caught the end of Estella’s sentence and his smile wobbled. He served Nora and asked if he could get them anything else.
They both said, “no, thanks,” but he remained rooted to his spot.
“More cherries?” he asked Estella.
“Only if they’re stuffed with arsenic,” she muttered.
When Jack’s face creased in concern, Estella reached out and squeezed his arm. “Don’t mind me. I’m in a mood. Nora will talk me down from the ledge.”
Taking the hint, Jack returned to the kitchen.
While Nora ate, Estella talked about organizing a painting party for June.
“We could enlist people from the lodge and from June’s church. People can paint, bring food, or buy supplies.” Warming to her idea, Estella continued. “I could hand out flyers to my customers too. We could plan the party for this weekend. June will have to stay with Hester for a few days, but I don’t think she’ll mind.”
Estella finished her milkshake and Nora paid the bill. They left the diner full of ideas on erasing the word on June’s house as a community. Despite Estella’s enthusiasm, Nora had to wonder if a word like that could truly be erased? Wouldn’t June see the ghosts of those hateful red letters every time she walked up her front path?
“We can fix the damage done to June’s house, but what about the damage done to June?” Nora asked. “How do we help her recover?”
Estella glanced at the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Her gaze passed over an elderly couple strolling hand in hand, a father pushing an empty stroller while his wife carried their baby, and a group of teenage boys with their hands shoved in their pockets.
“We let her know she’s not alone,” she said. “We remind her that this is her home. Her community needs to rally around her. That’s the only way she can see that most people aren’t like the bastard who wrote that on her house. Most people are better than that.”
Nora looked down the street. At the far end of the block, the windows of the Inn of Mist and Roses glowed like candles in the darkness.
She thought of how she’d run out on Lou and Patty’s dinner. She’d have to call them and explain her behavior.
Not tonight, she thought. I don’t want to talk anymore.
Nora walked over to her moped and dug out her keys.
Estella burst into raucous laughter. “Is that yours? It looks like a My Little Pony with wheels. If Princess Peach from Mario Kart had a moped, it would be this one.”
“It’s on loan.” Nora scowled. “If I end up buying it, I’ll peel off these stupid flower decals.”
“That’s no fun. Seriously, if Lisa Simpson had a scooter, this would be it. It’s so not you that it’s like having a secret identity.”
Nora donned her helmet and turned on the engine. Raising her visor, she said, “It’s tough to keep an identity secret when you’re riding something that looks like the offspring of the Pink Panther and Tweety Bird.”
Estella patted a handlebar. Her eyes were dancing with humor. “Thanks for asking me to meet you. I feel better than I did an hour ago.”
Nora covered Estella’s hand with hers and smiled.
With a playful flick, Estella used her other hand to snap Nora’s visor shut. She waved and walked toward her car.
Nora waited until her friend was safely inside before driving away.
At home, she washed up, put on pajamas, and turned on the TV. After an hour of channel surfing, she gave up and went out to the deck. She sat at her little café table and stared up at the starry sky.
It was a perfect night. A wind drifted down from the mountains, and Nora drew her legs into her chest for warmth. In the distance, she heard the lonesome call of a train whistle. At this hour, it would be a freight train, bound for Asheville or Blacksburg.
Tomorrow, the passenger train would arrive carrying a fresh group of visitors to Miracle Springs. That meant potential customers for Nora’s bookshop, Hester’s bakery, Estella’s salon, and the thermal pools June managed.
Had a train also delivered a killer to Miracle Springs? Had Danny been murdered by a stranger? Someone who’d already come and gone?
And what of the person who’d painted angry red letters across the front of June’s house? Had a train delivered that person too? Or was it a neighbor? Someone they passed in the street on regular basis?
Nora stayed on her deck until the train rumbled by.
It was a long one, holding over two hundred containers. Nora caught flashes of color. Blue, white, orange, red. She saw glimpses of words, but it was too dark for her to read any of them.
The blurred words and logos on the containers were an accurate reflection of Nora’s mind. She was filled to the brim with words and images. Facts and details. Theories and questions. They were all unreadable. And they kept racing away from her, as intangible as smoke from a locomotive.
* * *
When Nora woke the next morning, she felt dazed. Unrested. After a cup of coffee, she rallied. She sat in her kitchen, looking at Danny’s bowl, and decided to take control of her day. She would change the display window. Create something colorful. Something irresistible to book lovers. Something to make people feel good.
She walked to the dollar store and purchased several kites, a few green plastic tablecloths, and a bunch of flower-shaped placemats. She stuffed what she could into her backpack and carried the rest in a plastic bag. She could have taken the moped, but she needed the exercise.
As she walked the final blocks through town to the bookstore, she noticed people milling about on the sidewalk near her shop, but not directly in front of it. Some were pointing. Others shook their heads. Nora saw surprise on their faces.
Nora increased her pace. Fear made her move fast.
When she reached her block, she understood what was wrong with the scene.
She saw triangles of glass on the sidewalk. A jagged hole in the center of her display window. A brick sitting in the middle of her toppled books. More splinters of glass, as dazzling as winter ice, were sprinkled over the books.
Nora stared at the hole, the glass, the brick. To her, they spelled a word.
That word was HATE.
Chapter 11
Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-
house, and dark square is a picture feverishly
turned—in search of what? It is the same with
books. What do we seek through millions of pages?
—Virginia Woolf
Nora entered the bookstore by the back door and immediately called Sheriff McCabe.
“Have you touched anything?” was his first question.
“I read crime novels. I know better than that,” Nora said, surveying the damage. When she’d first seen the broken window, she’d been scared. Now, she was angry. “I doubt you’ll find anything useful. It’s a brick.”
McCabe was annoyingly calm. “Is there anything written on it?”
Nora hadn’t had the chance to look. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll check it out. Be there in five,” McCabe said. “And Nora?”
“Yeah?”
“Make yourself a strong cup of coffee. Bricks through windows are not a nice way to start the day.”
For the first time, Nora wished she had a security camera. She’d love to pull up the feed and see the face of the brick-throwing jackass. But she didn’t even have a security system. She had smoke and carbon dioxide detectors. Fire extinguishers. But theft prevention? She couldn’t afford that.
How much does a plate glass window cost?
Worried and angry, she reached out to the row of spines on the fiction shelf. Her fingers came to rest on Austen’s Northanger Abbey.
“Coffee,” she murmured, heading for the ticket agent’s office.
She was scooping grounds into the filter when Sheldon called out, “Nora? Where are you?”
“Here!” she shouted. It felt good to shout. To raise her voice and bellow. It also felt good to have Sheldon in the store. She’d left the back door unlocked for McCabe, but she was far more comforted by Sheldon’s arrival.
Suddenly, he was standing in the ticket agent’s office window. Jerking his thumb toward the front of the store, he asked, “What the hell is that?”
Nora thought of the toppled books. Of the glass fragments on the sidewalk. Of the jagged hole. Her beloved shop had been injured. Deliberately damaged. Her thoughts jumped to the word on June’s house. Were the members of the Secret, Book, and Scone Society being targeted?
Sheldon came into the office and opened his arms wide. “Come here, you.”
Nora accepted the invitation. Sheldon smelled like wool and peppermint. He smelled like her grandfather—the one who’d passed away when she was a young girl. His arms felt like her grandfather’s too. They were soft but strong.
Sheldon held her in his fierce bear hug for a long time. When he finally released her, he gave her one more squeeze and said, “There. That’s better.”
Nora didn’t think she’d ever had a better hug. She told him as much.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Now, go.” He shooed her out of the office. “The cavalry will want coffee. Oh, and I picked up the pastries on my way over. I put them in the stockroom because I was in too much of a hurry to give you that hug.”
