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“Oh, so now you like it under there, huh? Yesterday you acted like it was beneath you to sleep under my bed and now you won’t come out.” Paige lay on her stomach on the guest room floor, stretching her arm as far under the bed as she could. She couldn’t reach Casper, though—he sat about a millimeter past her fingertips. “Come on, cat! I have to get you out of here before Sarah stops breathing or something.”
Casper looked completely unconcerned about Paige’s sister-in-law’s respiratory status.
“Aargh!” Paige dropped both her hands and face to the floor. She briefly considered beating her fists and feet in a full-blown tantrum, but she took several deep breaths and held it together. She lifted her head again and narrowed her eyes at the smug feline. “Listen, you. If you don’t come out and get in my purse this instant, I’m going to leave you here for Sarah to find with her broom handle. If you come with me, I’ll give you some canned food.”
The cat only hesitated for another second before he stood and moved gracefully past her, unhurriedly sauntered over to Paige’s purse, climbed in, and curled up. Paige scrambled up, wiped her hands together, and nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “You know who’s boss. Good kitty.”
Casper blinked up at her, unconcerned.
She carried him out to the hallway and ran downstairs to the front closet to grab the vacuum. She spent the next twenty minutes cleaning her room as thoroughly as she could. Hopefully that would help Sarah feel better.
Once she’d carried the vacuum downstairs and grabbed her purse with Casper inside, Paige headed out to the Jeep. Scott’s car was already gone and so was Sarah’s. She climbed in, started the Wrangler, and considered where to go grab some food and coffee. The logical place would be Lucy’s bakery, but the woman had sort of creeped her out yesterday, and she really didn’t feel like seeing her again. There was a fast food place that served breakfast a few blocks over from the bookstore. She decided to hit its drive-through.
When she arrived at Beachside Books, Paige drove around the back side to the tiny parking lot. One other car, a black Kia, sat parked there. She wondered who owned it. Grabbing her coffee, the paper sack of fast food, and the handbag, which made a disgruntled noise when lifted, she headed around on the sidewalk to the front of the bookstore, moving fast past the bakery and keeping her eyes averted in hopes that Lucy wouldn’t spot her and come out to talk.
Paige was surprised to find the shop door unlocked. When she got inside, it was clear someone had entered before her. The lights were all on, and soft music played from a scratchy record player near the back of the main room. Paige stood still, close enough to the door to bolt out if needed, unsure what to do.
A head popped around the doorframe leading to the storage room and bathroom at the back of the store. A body followed it, and the young man walked toward Paige, smiling faintly. “Hi,” he said. “Can I help you?” He ran his hands through shoulder-length mud-brown hair. He spoke in a pleasant enough tone of voice, but his overall vibe as well as the vague purple color under his eyes shouted that he was tired and didn’t wish to be bothered.
Ah. This must be Neal, the college guy who worked part-time for Aunt Nora.
“Hey. I’m Paige Murphy.” She strode forward with her right hand in front of her, and Neal shook it. His grip was fairly weak.
He squinted as though he couldn’t see her that well. “Paige . . .” His tone made her think he recognized the name but couldn’t place it.
“I’m Nora’s niece,” she supplied. “You must be Neal.”
“Oh. Yeah. I am Neal.” He looked around as though he half expected to see someone else there. “Um. Ms. Murphy’s not here right now. A lot of times, she stops over at the bakery before she comes in. You might check there, or you’re welcome to wait for her here.” He’d already turned and started walking back toward the storeroom when Casper stuck his head out of the purse, meowed softly, and jumped to the floor. Neal spun around, catching the bizarre sight out of the corner of his eye. “What the . . . Hey, why’d you have Casper in your purse?”
Paige realized with a shock that Neal didn’t know Aunt Nora was dead. She found herself hesitating to tell him. In this guy’s world, her lovely aunt was still alive. She was going to come through the front door any second, smiling, and hand him a muffin. Paige almost felt as if telling Neal that Nora was dead was akin to causing her to die all over again.
But the poor kid looked so baffled she knew he needed rescuing. She took a step forward and set her purse on the checkout counter. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this,” she said, “but Nora died late on Monday.”
Neal’s brown eyes were as expressive as a child’s. They widened at Paige’s words, but the rest of his face fell. He didn’t say anything, and she gave him time to collect his thoughts. Casper rubbed on her calf, and she knew the cat wanted the promised can of food. Then a thought struck her. She remembered Lucy saying Neal worked on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. “Where were you on Monday when Aunt Nora got sick? An ambulance came and got her. Weren’t you here working?”
Neal shook his head and his mouth moved, but words didn’t come out immediately. He shifted his feet and scratched the back of his head. Finally, he seemed to find his voice. “I, um, left pretty early on Monday. Usually, I work until three, but I had an exam to study for. Ms. Murphy always lets me go early when I need to work on college-related stuff. I mean, she used to let me. Wow.” He turned away from Paige and walked a few steps toward the stairs to the attic and then turned around and walked back. “That’s wild that she’s gone.”
Paige nodded solemnly.
Suddenly, Neal stopped moving and looked sharply at Paige. “What’s going to happen to the store? I mean, I’m sorry.” He rubbed at his hair again. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.”
“I understand.” The poor kid looked like a caged rabbit. His look of concern made her uncomfortable. Maybe she should hug him. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the hugging kind. “You’re probably concerned about your job.”
Neal smiled and made eye contact. His muscles relaxed and speech seemed to come easier. “Yeah. It’s a cool job, and it gives me plenty of leeway for studying and stuff.”
“Well, the truth is I’m not exactly sure what’s going to happen with Beachside. Aunt Nora left it to me, but I need to sort through everything, figure out the financials, and do some thinking. I’d understand if you wanted to look for another job in the meantime, but you’re welcome to keep working here for now. Once I decide what to do, you’ll be the first to know.” Paige forced a smile at Neal and moved past him, heading to the back room where Casper stood meowing in the doorway. He seemed to have lost patience with waiting for his breakfast.
The front door’s bells rang, and Paige glanced over her shoulder. The man entering the shop had to duck to get through the doorway. He wasn’t only tall—he was big around too. A shock of red hair sat unruly on top of his head, and his matching beard was just as unkempt and wild. His nose was almost the color of his hair and beard, and when he spoke, he had the booming voice you’d expect from a train conductor. “Hello, there! I need to see someone about a book I’ve heard is present in this establishment,” he bellowed.
Paige continued to the back room since Neal was more likely than she was to know the whereabouts of the book the man wanted.
Casper made it hard to get the food out of the bin and into his bowl. He rubbed, meowed, and bunted at her legs and hands during the whole task. This cat was going to be a handful, she could tell.
When she got back out to the main room, Neal and the visitor were peering into the glass case containing the first edition, signed books. Paige’s pulse quickened. Maybe this guy would buy one, giving the store a financial boost and making her job easier.
But the visitor looked angry. His face was redder than before, and he sputtered, “What do ya mean? Don’t you know who I am? I’m Horace Bellevue. Everyone in the rare book community knows me. I traveled from Maryland because I heard Ms. Nora Murphy had the ship’s log I’ve searched for far and wide for over a decade. I see it in there, and I want it. One thousand dollars is a fair offer.”
A thousand dollars for the ratty, leather-bound book with the ship embossed on the front? Cha-ching! She stepped forward to stand beside Neal and Horace.
The college student bounced from one foot to the other and chewed his thumbnail. Not much of a salesman. Was he holding out for a higher price?
Paige didn’t want to let this fish off the hook. “You’re interested in the brown book at the back of the case?” Paige asked the huge, red-haired man.
“Aye,” Horace said. “But this guy says it’s not for sale.”
Neal nodded. “This case was off-limits for buyers when Nora was here.”
So these three books had been Aunt Nora’s private collection. But a thousand dollars was a lot of money. Paige gazed at the books and thought about how much her aunt must have loved them to keep them for herself behind the glass. She turned to Horace and let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but Nora Murphy passed away this week. I’m the new owner, and I’m not ready to sell any of these yet.”
“Two thousand dollars,” the man blurted. “I can get a cashier’s check before the close of business today.”
Paige’s eyebrows rose. Wow. He really wanted that tattered old thing. She wanted to say yes, but when she opened her mouth, the word didn’t come out. Instead, she said, “I’ll need to think about it. You can leave me your contact information if you like.”
Paige felt something touch her leg. It was Casper rubbing his head on her. He sat down and looked up.
“Well, I never! Two thousand dollars and you won’t sell me the log? What kind of book dealer are you?” Spittle flew out of his mouth as he fumed, and Paige resisted the urge to step back to ensure she wasn’t hit by any.
Casper suddenly hissed, drawing Paige’s attention. By the time she looked up again, Horace had marched across the room and stopped by the front door. “I’m staying at the Island Getaway. Twenty-five hundred dollars is my final offer. You have three days to make a decision.” He pulled the door closed behind him. The white cat’s eyes followed the giant, red-haired man.
“What’s wrong, kitty? Didn’t you like that big galoot? I don’t blame you. He was loud, wasn’t he?” Paige picked up Casper and rubbed her cheek on his head. She set him down and then turned to Neal and clapped her hands once. “Okay, I want to look at the financials and do a merchandise inventory. Can you help me get started?”
Neal ran a hand through his hair and then chewed his thumb again.
He sure was a nervous type. Paige wondered if that was his regular personality or a reaction to the news of his boss’s death. She supposed she’d find out over the next few days whether he calmed down or not.
“Um. Sure. Yeah, Ms. Murphy had just started doing an inventory. I’ll get you the print-offs she was using.” Neal moved behind the counter and dug around on a shelf. He pulled out a thick file and handed it to Paige. She perused the pages, noting the list of books that should be in stock and some check marks by a few that Nora had already confirmed.
“Great. Let’s start with this section,” Paige pointed to the first set of book titles on the sheet.
Neal glanced at the spot she indicated. “Um, are you sure you want to start there? I think she’d been working on the children’s section.”
“Yes. It will be easier for me to start on the first page.”
“Those are rares and first editions. Over here.” He led Paige to the shelves that lined the cozy sitting nook in the front corner of the store across from the check-out counter. “Nora liked to keep them here where she could see them well while people were in the shop.”
“Smart,” Paige said. She was already searching the titles and matching them to her list. “Hmm. A few of these are missing.” She frowned at the list.
Neal shrugged. “They’re around somewhere.” His face lit up. “I bet they’re upstairs. There’s some dusty books on shelves up there. I’ll go check.”
Paige handed him the list, and he headed toward the attic stairs. She wondered briefly if he’d be attacked by a rat or something when he got up there. She chuckled at herself and turned back toward the rare books. She pulled one from the shelf. It was a first edition of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Paige knew this book well. It had been like a person—a dear friend—to her when she was in her early teens. She caressed the front cover. Then her eyebrows knit together and she held the book up to catch the light pouring in from the store’s front window to get a better look.
It wasn’t right.
She knew the first edition cover to that book like the back of her hand, and this wasn’t it. It was a later edition cover. What in the world? Aunt Nora never would have gotten that wrong. She had read the book many times, too, right along with Paige.
She turned around when she heard Neal come back down the stairs. His face was ashen, as if he’d seen a ghost. “Um, I didn’t find them up there. I’m sure they’re around, though. Hey, I have to go. I have, uh, another test to study for. Is that cool?”
She really hoped this nervous Nellie attitude dissipated soon. In the meantime, she’d rather do inventory alone. “Sure. Thanks for your help. See you Friday.” She locked the door behind him and turned the sign to Closed. The books on the shelf seemed to blur as she envisioned Nora standing in that very spot and seeing the fake first editions. Maybe she had found out about the switch and confronted whoever was behind the con. There was no way Nora would have bought that book as a first edition. Were any of the rest of them not what they were marked as being? Something fishy was going on.
Paige glanced toward the door Neal had just exited. Maybe his nerves were understandable after all.