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Chapter 3

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Paige didn’t know where she was for a minute when she woke up. Her first thought was that she’d slept through the alarm and would be late getting to the hotel, which would mean another housekeeper would get the Russos’ generous tip. That made her jolt to a sitting position and throw her legs over the edge of the bed. She cursed when her toe hit a wall. She drew her foot up to cradle it with her hands and realized she was in her brother’s cramped guest room, not her bedroom in the Portofino house.

She held her breath until the pain in her toe subsided and then flopped backward onto the twin-sized mattress and looked at the ceiling. Aunt Nora was gone.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, letting images of her aunt flit across the backs of her eyelids. In almost all of them, the backdrop was Beachside Books, Aunt Nora’s bookshop. Paige had gone there almost every day after school from the time she could be trusted to walk there by herself until she left for college.

Aunt Nora was always a listening ear. She understood Paige’s propensity to be a loner but also the pain that stung her from time to time when all the other kids were going to a party or meeting up after school and she wasn’t invited. Even though Paige never talked about that stuff, Aunt Nora always seemed to know, and she’d create something for the two of them to enjoy together to take Paige’s mind off it. That’s when Aunt Nora first told Paige how special she was.

It was hard to believe her aunt was gone. What would happen to the bookstore?

Paige hauled herself up and peeked out the window. The sun was climbing in the sky as noon approached. She hoped this long sleep would counteract her jet lag. She gathered some clothes and took them into the bathroom at the end of the short hallway. The house was quiet.

After a nice long shower, Paige went downstairs to the kitchen. Caffeine. She needed a fix. There was coffee warming in the pot. Paige smiled. Sarah was such a thoughtful sister-in-law. She opened and closed cupboard doors until she found a coffee mug. It was brown and had a small chip in the rim, but its weight was perfect, and her fingers fit in the handle like it was made for her. There was nothing like a great mug of hot black coffee.

She opened the refrigerator and looked inside for a minute. Were Scott and Sarah vegans? She didn’t see anything of interest to her. Her body was demanding some grease and animal protein after the exhaustion of the past couple of days.

She grabbed her purse off the hook by the back door and took it and her coffee into the family room overlooking the huge backyard that Sarah spent hours cultivating. Elaborate brick pathways swirled through it, and gorgeous flowers and shrubs showed off their blooms. It wasn’t easy to keep flowers alive with the coastal soil and Texas heat. She dug through her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and plopped into a comfortable beige armchair. When she hit the home button, a text from Marco shimmered on her screen:

How are you, bella? I miss you and look forward with great anticipation to your return. I shall make you some risotto.

Paige rolled her eyes and stabbed at the phone until the pop-up box disappeared. Well, at least she had some distance from her annoyingly persistent would-be suitor now. That might be the only good thing about being back home.

She set the phone down on the arm of the chair and wrapped both hands around the mug. She had to admit the view into her brother’s backyard was easing her longing for the Italian scenery. Plus, it was so quiet. It was never quiet in Portofino. Someone was always shouting out their wares, and the bustling fishing industry didn’t ever seem to sleep.

She looked around the room, which had womanly touches everywhere, but she could see her brother’s hand too. Dallas Cowboys paraphernalia dotted the walls here and there, and Paige remembered how Scott had wanted to play football professionally. It hadn’t been in the cards for him—he was just too small and not quite fast enough. He’d played a little baseball in high school too, but his heart just wasn’t in that sport like it was in football. When it was time to go to college, Scott’s friend, Darren, said he was heading to the police academy, and Paige’s brother decided to do the same thing. He’d thrived there and graduated near the top of his class.

Her phone rang, and Paige scooped it up. She swiped to answer. Not surprisingly, it was Scott. She had a gift for hearing from people just as she was thinking about them. “Hey, sis. You’re up?”

“Yes, and I’m hungry. Where’s all the food?”

“In the kitchen.”

“I didn’t see any food in there. I saw some weird-looking sprouty things and a package of something that looked like Styrofoam on the counter but no food.”

“Those are rice cakes. Spread some almond butter on them and enjoy.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

Scott chuckled. “Sarah is on a vegan kick. How about I pick you up and take you out to lunch? Then we’ll head to the bookstore and check things out.”

“Okay. But can I eat real food in front of you? Or will seeing meat make your body go into some kind of convulsions or something? Because I need some bacon.”

“Shut up, Paige. Be ready to go in ten minutes.”

Paige chuckled as they said their goodbyes. She poured herself another mug of coffee and went onto the front porch.

* * *

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SCOTT PULLED UP IN his beat-up Oldsmobile a few minutes later, and she got in the passenger seat. “They don’t let you have a cruiser?”

Scott cast her a sidelong glance. “Not for personal errands. I’m off the clock for a few hours.”

“Maybe when you make detective, you’ll get a full-time company car. Getting close, aren’t you?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, I’m hoping for a promotion within the next few weeks. How’d you sleep?”

“Great, but I woke up thinking about Aunt Nora. I’m really going to miss her.”

Scott kept his eyes on the road. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Me too. She was a good aunt, before and after Mom and Dad died.” His jaw muscles clenched, and Paige looked away. She stared out the window as they drove through her hometown.

She’d been away long enough that there were a few new signs and some cosmetic changes to buildings, but mostly it was the same old Comfort Cove, a thriving ocean-side tourist town. Scott turned onto Main Street. The downtown was quaint, with clapboard-style shops decorated individually in various colors and styles. The windows displayed some of the wares offered inside, and the sidewalks bustled with shoppers who didn’t seem to have a hurry or care in the world.

They ate lunch at a diner where they’d spent a lot of time as teenagers. Judging by the way the waitress brought Scott his drink without asking him what he wanted, Paige decided he must still go there often. Paige had a cheeseburger and fries, and her brother eyed her plate while he munched on his salad. She did everything she could to make him jealous of her meal.

“Want a bite?” Paige asked, waving the greasy burger under his nose.

He hesitated just a moment before turning his head. “No, thanks. I’m trying to lose weight. Plus, I think Sarah can smell burger breath. I don’t want to get yelled at.”

After lunch, Scott drove them another block and pulled his big brown car into a spot in front of Beachside Books. Paige turned to grab her purse out of the back seat while Scott climbed out of the car. Before he got all the way out, Paige heard an excited, high-pitched female voice.

“I’ve been so worried ever since the ambulance took Nora off yesterday. How is she? Is there anything I can do? I have pie. Does she need pie?”

Paige looked across the hood. A plump, fifty-something woman in a frilly apron and hairnet stood closer to her brother than was really comfortable among most Americans. She was wringing her hands, and her eyes and mouth were all shaped like perfect Os as she expressed her concern and worry.

Scott patted the woman’s hands. “Lucy, this is my sister, Paige.” He nodded his head toward Paige, who gave the woman a little wave. “Sis, this is Lucy Byrnes. She owns the bakery there next to the bookshop. Has for . . . what, about three years now?”

Lucy nodded, and the pile of black curls under her hairnet bounced around so much Paige thought it might be trying to escape. “Yes, that’s right. I opened about then, and Nora has always been so kind to me.” She paused and peered up at Scott. “Is she coming back today?”

He darted his eyes from hers. “No, she isn’t.”

Before Scott could continue, Lucy cut him off. “Oh, I was afraid of that. I didn’t have a key to the bookstore to lock it up, but I flipped the sign to say closed. It’s Tuesday, and that little guy, Neal, doesn’t work on Tuesdays or Thursdays because he takes classes at the college. I didn’t want people going into the bookstore while Nora was gone. Was that okay?” She furrowed her brow and wrung her hands even more.

“That’s fine. Thank you.” Scott stepped over the curb and corralled Lucy back toward Just Baked. He glanced over his shoulder and jerked his head at Paige. She nodded and followed them.

“Let’s sit down a minute,” Scott said to Lucy once they were inside. The place smelled amazing and was cheerfully decorated in red, white, and black. Paige knew her brother must be worried about how the woman was going to react to the news of Nora’s death.

“Can I get you anything?” Lucy asked. “A muffin and some coffee?”

“No, thanks. Just have a seat.” Scott fiddled nervously with the napkin holder, trying to find the exact center of the table.

Lucy sat on the edge of the chair and waited. Scott and Paige sat at the tiny table with her.

“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,” Scott began. He drew in a deep breath. “Aunt Nora didn’t make it.”

Lucy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Didn’t make it?” Then she gasped. “You mean she’s dead?”

Scott nodded solemnly. Lucy sat still and quiet for a moment. Then tears began flowing down her cheeks. She looked up at Scott. “But how can that be? I just saw her yesterday morning. She seemed perfectly fine. Fit as a fiddle. Good as gold.” Grabbing a handful of paper napkins out of the holder, she blotted her face and blew her nose.

Scott reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a small spiral notebook and pen. He opened the book to a blank page and looked up at Lucy, pen poised over the paper. “And when was that?” he asked.

Paige sighed. He’d gone into cop mode. She should have known he’d do that. Well, to be fair, with Dr. Rubin suspecting poison, it was probably best to take careful notes on anything people told them about the time surrounding Aunt Nora’s death.

Lucy raised her eyebrows and brushed at her cheeks again. “What time was what?”

“When you saw Nora yesterday morning. Did you two talk?”

“Why, yes. She stopped in for a blueberry muffin like she does most mornings. Not every morning. I mean, she stops in for a muffin almost every morning, but sometimes she gets banana nut and sometimes cinnamon spice. Yesterday, she got a blueberry muffin.”

“I see.” Scott nodded. “And what time was that?”

Lucy blew her nose again. “About a quarter till ten. You could set your watch by her coming through that door every morning at a quarter till ten.” The tears flowed down the baker’s cheeks harder and faster. “I can’t believe I’ll never see her sweet face again.” Lucy cried even more than Paige had.

Scott’s voice cut through Paige’s suspicions and brought her back to the moment. “Was there anything unusual about her visit here yesterday morning?” he asked.

“Not a thing. She was bright and cheery as always.”

“Did you happen to see anyone unusual go into the bookstore yesterday? Maybe someone who also came in here?”

Lucy shook her head. “Why are you asking these questions? Do you think someone did something to poor Nora?” She crossed herself for protection.

Scott closed his notepad and tucked it back in his pocket. “No. I was just—”

She leaned toward Scott and sniffled a few times. “I understand,” she said and patted the back of his hand. “It’s hard to make sense of things when you lose someone so fast.” She jumped up from her seat. “Let me get you and your sister each a slice of that red velvet cake you like so much.” She bustled off behind the counter and clanked dishes as she got the food ready.

“Aren’t there eggs and milk in cake?” Paige smirked.

Scott glared at her, and Paige couldn’t hold back her laughter. Slowly, his face softened, and he chuckled too. “Don’t tell Sarah,” he said as Lucy set huge slices of cake and steaming mugs of coffee in front of them.

Several customers trickled in and out while they enjoyed the decadent cake. “Oh man,” Paige said. “How does she make this cake so good—magic?”

Scott laughed. “I know. It’s delicious.” He leaned close to her and lowered his voice. “I come in once a week just to get some.”

While they ate, they kept the conversation on Italy, Scott’s possible promotion, and Sarah’s volunteer work. They carefully avoided any mention of Aunt Nora’s suspicious death.

When all the crumbs were cleaned from their plates, they got up, and Scott tried to pay Lucy. 

“Keep your money,” she said. “It’s the least I can do on a day like today. Please let me know the arrangements once they’re made.”

They both thanked the sweet lady, and she grabbed and squeezed one of Paige’s hands. “Your aunt was a special person,” she said as she looked into Paige’s eyes. “If you ever need anything—ever—you just come talk to me. I know how to do more than bake, you know.” A strange feeling skittered over the hand Lucy held and up Paige’s arm, like a bunch of ants had run over her skin. Paige shook the arm a little, raised her eyebrows, and looked up. Lucy winked at her and turned away. The portly woman busied herself humming and wiping down tables.

Scott stuffed some bills into the tip jar on the counter while Lucy’s back was still turned. Paige rubbed the last of the strange feeling from her arm as they walked out onto the sidewalk together.

The bookshop was located near the end of a row of a half-dozen stores, including a souvenir shop, a place dedicated to Christmas items, and a kite store. On the other side was a bicycle shop. The front of the bookstore was painted robin’s egg blue, and it had cream-colored trim around the big front window and the much smaller window on the second story. A large hand-painted sign spanned the space over the window and the front door displayed the name Beachside Books. Pictures of books and reading glasses were painted all around the four edges of the sign.

Aunt Nora hadn’t had much support from her friends or family when she decided to open the shop back in the early seventies. The town was just beginning to get going as a tourist destination then. A handful of seaside hotels and tourist shops were doing fairly good business, and people didn’t understand how a bookshop would do well. But Aunt Nora had insisted and persisted. She was determined to open a bookstore on the beach. “What do you think people want to do after they take a dip in the Gulf?” she would say. “Lie about in the sun with a good book and read, that’s what.”

It hadn’t been as easy as buying an available building, purchasing books to sell, and throwing a sign up. Many of the buildings on the coast were run-down and dilapidated. Town historians said Comfort Cove had been a thriving port back in the day, but when they built a new breakwall at the end of town, it changed the currents in the area and made it an unsafe docking point for ships. Port activities had moved out to the next city up the coast, leaving Comfort Cove a ghost town. Luckily, a few years later, some developers saw the opportunity to create a tourist spot and started building hotels.

The storefront Nora chose to fix up showed indications that it had been a honky-tonk, of sorts, when the town was a port. Sailors were probably in and out all the time. Lots of dusty old, tattered furniture stood about the place, and there were dozens of boxes of paperwork in the attic. It took her six months, but Nora got the place cleaned up, repaired, and stocked, and Beachside Books opened up and immediately bore fruit. She’d been right—tourists vacationing at the beach loved to read.

Scott walked straight up to the front door and examined the knob. He slipped on a pair of protective gloves and then opened the door and peered at the locking mechanism. “Doesn’t look tampered with,” he said. He handed Paige a second pair of rubber gloves. “Here. Don’t move anything, and wear these in case you touch anything.”

Paige pulled the gloves on and followed her brother into the bookstore. She stopped just inside the entryway. More memories flashed before her eyes, faster than she could examine them: Sitting in the back corner of the shop doing her homework, the smells of the books surrounding and encouraging her. Pulling out a book when she was done to read until it was time to go home for dinner, traveling all over the world, through every time period, and then dropping back into Beachside to discuss the stories with her aunt.

Then there were memories of all the fun things Aunt Nora did with her in the bookstore. Activities to cheer her up and make her feel loved. Dance parties, tea and cookies, and games of chess or Clue had all made Paige’s childhood not only bearable but wonderful. Nora never married and had no children of her own. It made her cousins jealous that Nora had taken Paige under her wing and treated her almost like a daughter.

Paige breathed deeply, expecting to be greeted by the smells of paper and lavender that had always permeated Beachside Books. Her nose wrinkled as, instead, the acrid smell of burnt coffee flowed into it and down her throat, causing her to cough. Something flashed in her head. A vision of Aunt Nora standing by the front counter, sipping coffee and beginning to cough. The picture was gone as quickly as it had arrived. She shook her head but couldn’t get it back.

Scott had made his way to the coffeepot on a shelf behind the checkout counter. It sputtered and popped as the last remnants of liquid in the glass carafe burned. He shut the pot off and looked around the rest of the area. Paige joined him. The last items her aunt had seen or touched were probably right here. A coffee cup with some liquid still in it, her reading glasses, and a financial ledger all sat next to the cash register.

Paige watched her brother peer into the mug. “Do you think the poison could be in there?” she asked him. Her heart pounded faster than usual. It was unnerving being there, thinking about Aunt Nora’s death and how someone might have done something to her on purpose.

Scott shrugged. “Impossible to tell, really. I’ll bag it up and have the forensics team look at it and run some tests. Along with a lot of other stuff in here.”

A clatter near the back of the shop startled them both. Scott shoved Paige behind him and drew his revolver, all in one smooth movement.

Paige strained to see over his shoulder. A white cat stalked toward them from where he’d jumped down from a shelf, bringing a book plunging to the floor with him.

Scott’s shoulders relaxed, and he put his gun away. “Casper,” he said.

Paige pushed Scott aside and went to the cat. She knelt down to pet him. “Hi, little buddy. Are you out of food and water?” He purred and rubbed on her hand. He was the last in a long line of cats Aunt Nora had kept in the bookshop to greet customers. She’d called them all Casper. Paige walked toward the back of the shop and into a small storage room with the cat jogging behind her. There was still a little food and water in his bowls, but she filled them both and then scooped out the litter box in the corner. She turned and faced Casper, her hands on her hips. “What happened here, anyway?” she asked him softly, but he ignored her and ran over to chow down on fresh cat food.

She unlocked the back door and walked out to the dumpster. Most of the shop owners parked on the small drive back there that faced the ocean. The wind swept too much sand in from that direction for the shops to face out onto the water.

When she came back in, she heard the bell on the store’s front door jingle and peeked out. A young man stood squared off with Scott. She couldn’t hear them, so she made her way back to the front of the store. The newcomer had shaggy, beach-blond hair that looked wind-swept. He watched Paige and grinned at her as she approached.

Scott introduced them. “This is Jay Parker. He owns the bike shop next door. Jay, this is my sister, Paige.”

“Oh, hey, how ya doin’?” He sounded like he should be in California, not Texas. He gave her a wink and flashed a bright white smile.

Paige didn’t bother to respond. She simply nodded.

“Saw your car here, man.” Jay turned back to Scott. “Thought I’d come over and say hey.” He looked around. “Where is everybody?”

“Store’s been closed since yesterday around noon. My aunt collapsed and was rushed to the hospital.”

As Scott explained the situation, Paige studied Jay’s reaction.

The blond man’s eyes widened, and he stuck his neck forward toward the police officer. “She was? Man! I thought the bookstore was pretty slow yesterday, but geez. I had no idea. How is the old girl?”

Scott glanced at Paige before he answered. “She didn’t make it.”

“You mean she’s dead?”

“Yes.” It was the first Paige had spoken, but she felt compelled to rescue her brother from this guy, who seemed like he should be surfing instead of running a business.

Jay’s eyes shifted to her. “Man!” he said, and he ran his hands through his messy hair. “Man!”

This guy was a regular wordsmith. Classic.

“What’d she die of? I mean, I know she was ancient, but what got her? The Big C?”

Paige balled her hands at her sides. She’d never hit anyone, but she really felt the urge to deck this guy in his overly pretty face.

Scott jumped in. “Truth is, she wasn’t that old, and she wasn’t sick. The doctors are trying to figure out what killed her.”

Paige glanced at her brother, trying to let him know she was thankful he’d saved her from having to talk to the surfer guy any further.

The bike shop owner shook his head, and his hair flopped over his bright blue eyes. “Sorry, dude. I mean, she was at least as old as my grandpa, and he’s, like, eighty.”

“Nora was in her sixties.” Scott’s voice was flat, and he looked around, clearly ready to be done talking to Jay.

“Whoa! You’re kidding. I guess I thought she was older than that because of the old person smell in here.”

“That’s the smell of old books, not people,” Paige snapped. She bit her tongue before adding something she might regret.

Scott moved to the front door and held it open. “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll be over later to talk to your employees and find out whether they saw anything unusual yesterday.”

“Sure, dude. Sure. Whatever you need.”

When Jay was gone and Scott had closed the shop’s door behind him, Paige took a deep breath and relaxed her fists. “He’s a piece of work, huh? I’m surprised he can run a business. How does he remember to come in every day?”

Scott laughed and rubbed his hand over his face. “His daddy bankrolls the shop, I think. He has a few employees who are decent guys, and they are the ones who keep the place rolling. I don’t think he ever comes in before noon.”

Paige snorted. “Well, I guess that makes sense. How do you know so much about him?”

“He’s had at least three break-ins. Nothing major—just some cash stolen from the register and a few bike parts missing.”

Paige turned around in a circle. “What else do you need to do here?” She was beginning to feel weird being in the lifeless store.

“Just bag a few things to take in. It’ll only take a few minutes, and then we can get going.”

Paige moved back behind the checkout counter and looked around one last time. She saw Aunt Nora’s purse stuffed on a shelf under the cash register and pulled it out. A set of keys was hooked to the strap with a carabiner. She held them up to show her brother. “Maybe we should go by her house later and see if there’s anything unusual.”

Scott grinned and snatched the keys. “Maybe you should be the detective instead of me.”

Paige grinned. “Nah. I don’t have the proper brooding attitude.”

Scott raised his eyebrows and faked shock. “Are you kidding me? I never brood. I’m practically Pollyanna compared to you.”

Paige hit him in the shoulder with sisterly affection. He went to the car and came back with some evidence bags. She watched him seal up and label a few items.

Paige’s phone rang and she went out onto the sidewalk and pulled her gloves off. The call went to voicemail before she could answer it. She waited until a new message alert popped up and listened. It was her cousin Patty asking Paige to meet her and her sister at Aunt Nora’s house in half an hour to start sorting through her belongings.

When Scott came out, she told him about the message. “I should have a look around the house first,” he said. “We can go there now, before they invade the place, and then I’ll head to the station. You can stay at Aunt Nora’s, and I’ll pick you up after work.”

Great. She sighed. She’d almost rather spend an afternoon fending off Marco’s clumsy come-on lines than dealing with her prickly cousins.

As Scott backed the car out of the parking space in front of Beachside Books, Paige saw Casper sitting in the front window gazing out. She felt a sudden lump in her throat at the thought that he had no idea what had happened. He’d probably sit all day in the window and watch for Aunt Nora to return. But she never would. She was gone.

“Can we take Casper back to your house?” she asked her brother.

Scott shook his head. “Sarah’s allergic. He’ll have to stay here. I’ll come in once a day and take care of him until we figure something else out.”

Figure something else out. Like what was going to happen to the bookstore. Paige looked out the window as they left the quaint downtown area and turned away from the coast. She didn’t know exactly how, but she wasn’t going to let Casper go to strangers.

And she wasn’t going to let Beachside Books recede into history, reverting back to the abandoned building it had once been.