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After Scott and Sarah left, Paige busied herself in the back room scooping Casper’s litter box and washing out his water bowl. A rap at the locked front door startled her, and she peeked around the doorframe to see Lucy’s round face peering into the store. Paige hurried to let her in and locked the door again behind her. She didn’t want to deal with any errant customers wandering in—the drawer was already balanced and ready to start anew the next morning.
Lucy handed Paige a cardboard pastry box. “I brought you some treats for your first night in the new apartment.” She gestured toward the stairs to the attic. “Do you have everything you need?”
Paige set the box on the checkout counter and opened it. Three large peanut butter cookies sat on parchment paper inside. The tops had elaborate fork designs pressed into them. “These are beautiful. Thank you.” She closed the box again and faced Lucy. “And yes, I think I’m all set. Scott and Sarah gave me a nice bed with a pillow and some sheets and stuff. There’s a microwave and a tiny fridge up there that I stocked with the basics I’ll need for lunches and dinners.” She grinned at the baker. “Of course, I’ll be getting my breakfasts from you.”
“That’s good, dear.” Lucy smiled and nodded. Her black curls were flattened on top from the hairnet she wore all day. “Try not to be afraid tonight.” Her eyes swept over the store and landed back on Paige’s face. “Even if this old building is haunted, you’ll be fine.”
“Haunted?” Paige couldn’t help but think of the crazy story Scott had just told her.
Lucy wrung her hands. “Did Nora ever tell you about her special . . . um . . . secret?”
Paige squinted her eyes and shook her head. “It didn’t have anything to do with drugs, did it?”
“Like aspirin and Pepto-Bismol?”
“No. Like crack and heroin.”
Lucy’s hand flew to her chest. “Heavens no! Why would you suggest such a thing?”
As far as Paige could tell, Lucy was the closest Aunt Nora had to a best friend in Comfort Cove. If anyone knew about her aunt’s possible brush with narcotics, it was probably the baker. The way she kept hinting to Paige about a secret made her wonder if Lucy might have an idea about what killed Nora. It was time to confront her.
Paige crossed her arms, remembering her brother’s advice to trust no one. She chose her words carefully. “The doctor and the coroner said that Aunt Nora had some sort of drug in her system when she died. Just curious if you knew anything about her . . . medicine.”
“Oh my,” Lucy said as her eyes began to glisten. “If poor Nora had drugs in her system, they didn’t get there from Nora herself. Sure, she liked her wine and brandy. Occasionally, we would whip up some of our own concoctions, but I never knew her to use street drugs. Never ever.”
“That’s what I thought too. It’s probably just a mistake or a false positive or something.”
“Oh my. Oh dear. Oh fiddlesticks.” Lucy tapped her temples with her fingertips. “I should be going. I feel something coming on.” She turned toward the door.
“Is it a headache?”
“A headache?” Her eyes were misty. “Something like that.”
“But wait,” Paige said it louder than she meant and positioned herself between Lucy and the shop door. “You mentioned a secret. Is there something you need to tell me?”
Lucy laughed and waved her hands. “I was just being silly. Well, you enjoy the cookies, dear, and I’ll have coffee and muffins ready first thing in the morning. You just come on in my shop through the back door if you want something before I open up the front. I start baking around four in the morning.” She offered up a yawn that looked fake. “And I go to bed around eight, so I’d better get home. Goodnight.”
Paige hesitated but let her out and relocked the door. She grabbed the box of cookies from the counter and took it upstairs. Obviously, Lucy knew something. Maybe she should stay on the list of suspects after all, but Paige was too exhausted to worry about it tonight. She’d talk it over with Scott in the morning.
She wanted her attic room to be cozy and inviting, but it wasn’t quite there yet. Still, it reminded her of some of the tiny houses she’d seen on TV that were all the rage. The bedding Sarah had gifted her helped—it was lavender with mint-green swirls, lovely and feminine. Paige smiled when she saw it. She crossed to the area that served as a kitchen and set the pastry box down. Grabbing a cookie out of it, she went back to the one small chair in the room and sat down. The cookie was melt-in-your-mouth delicious, and Paige ate it slowly and savored it along with the peaceful feeling of being on her own again. Even if Lucy had poisoned it, which she doubted, it was worth it.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still too early to go to sleep. Grabbing her laptop from the end table, she opened the document containing her novel and stared at the last paragraph. Come on, Paige. Be creative. Go.
She typed a sentence, looked at it for a minute, and then deleted it.
A creak caught her attention. It sounded like it came from downstairs. She held her breath, all her muscles tense and coiled in case she needed to run or fight. Then she heard a meow outside the attic door. She relaxed and laughed nervously at herself. When she opened the door, Casper strolled in looking quite pleased with her for still being in the shop. He was probably lonely by himself when the bookstore was closed.
“I’m going to be staying here for a while,” she told him. “So you can come up here and hang out with me.”
Casper answered by rubbing his head on her calf, and she bent down and patted his head. Paige had to admit she felt a little relieved to have another living thing besides mice in the attic with her. It made her feel less on edge. Hopefully, he was a mouser.
It was getting dark outside. Paige could see the beach from the window over the kitchen area. Things were heating up out there—young people must be partying on a Friday night. She tried to sit down again and do some writing, but between the noise and the newness of her living situation, she soon gave up and decided to climb into bed and read a book instead. Sure, she’d probably fall asleep, but the worst that could happen if she went to bed early was she’d wake up at the crack of dawn and have extra time for work. Plus, Lucy would be baking by four in the morning, so she could walk over and try to pry her secret from her.
Casper jumped up and walked back and forth over her body a few times before curling up at the foot of the bed and settling down. Paige grabbed the book from next to the lamp and opened it to the first page. Before long, she was fast asleep.
* * *
SHE AWOKE WITH A START and sat straight up on the twin-sized mattress. She wiped drool off her face and tried to figure out what jolted her from a dead sleep. Casper hissed. That must have been what she’d heard. Her heart beat so hard it seemed to pound against her eardrums, and she almost covered her ears. Instead, she strained to hear any sounds that might let her know what Casper was upset about.
As her pupils dilated, letting in more of the dim light in the room, she could see better. The door out to the stairway was open. That was strange. She could have sworn she’d closed it. She shivered. Then, a loud thud from the store downstairs sent her diving under her blankets.
Someone was down there! And they had opened the door to where she was sleeping! Paige fought to get her fear under control and think straight about what she should do. She could call 9-1-1. Or Scott.
Desperately, she tried to remember where her cell phone was. The last time she remembered looking at it, she’d been downstairs. It was probably still down there, well out of reach of anyone other than the intruder.
She wondered briefly if she could climb out the small window over the kitchen area in her room. Even if she hadn’t developed thunder thighs, the window wasn’t set up as a fire escape. There was no ladder, and there wouldn’t be any way for her to get to the ground from it other than by plummeting. She’d really have to fix that because it was likely that if the fire chief found out she was living up here, he’d levy a fine and make her adhere to all kinds of safety codes.
She felt a tiny weight on her arm and peeked out from under the blanket. Casper sat next to her, touching her with a tiny white paw. As she watched him, he moved the paw to his mouth and licked it calmly. It seemed like he wasn’t worried about an intruder anymore, and she hadn’t heard any more noises for a few minutes.
Cautiously, Paige crawled out of bed and crossed to the doorway. She couldn’t see anything on the stairwell. She wanted to shut and barricade her door and huddle in bed with Casper until morning, but that wouldn’t be very mature of her. Paige knew she should go downstairs and check things out—make sure the bookshop was okay.
She crept down the staircase, avoiding the third creaky step, and peeked around the wall at the bottom. Everything looked normal.
This was silly. If someone had been in the shop, they appeared to be gone now. There was no reason for Paige to scuttle around like a scared mouse. She flipped on the light switch at the bottom of the staircase and stepped into the shop’s main room. Nothing looked immediately amiss, so she moved forward toward the checkout counter, flipping on more light switches as she went.
Suddenly, her foot hit something on the floor, and she leaped about eighteen inches into the air, landing with a thud. It was a can of spray paint. Had someone come in and vandalized the place? Oh no—had they sprayed any books? She looked around for paint but didn’t see anything.
The front door. Was it still locked? She whirled around to make sure. A flash of red to her left drew her attention. Someone had scrawled a message in spray paint on the checkout counter. She moved closer to read it and then clutched her chest in a panic. Was the intruder still there?
The message on the counter was obviously directed at her, and the red paint added to its menacing feel. Paige didn’t know who had left the words there, but they obviously had it in for her.
When she still saw no signs that anyone remained in the building, she grabbed her cell and flew back up the stairs with Casper right on her heels. “Some watch cat you are,” she said, breathing heavy. She wedged the chair under the door knob and got back in bed.
If she hadn’t truly believed Aunt Nora’s death was a murder before, she did now.
The threatening message on the counter kept ringing in her mind: Get Out While You Can.