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There were cops everywhere. Paige sat behind the counter in the shop and watched through her big front window. Police officers surrounded the bike shop, and soon, three people were led out in handcuffs and put into the back seats of different cop cars. Her store was deserted, and she figured the police had the street barricaded on both ends while they raided Jay’s shop. There was nothing for her to do but watch the show. She wondered what Lucy might be thinking about all the activity.
A van marked Comfort Cove Drug Enforcement Unit pulled up, directed through by officers. Soon, three drums just like the ones in the bookshop’s basement but with the lids still secured were brought out of the bike shop on hand trucks and loaded into the van. That explained what Curt was doing while she was getting a guided tour of the bike shop. Jay must have told him to move one of the barrels of drugs out of her basement into his shop.
It looked like things were dying down over there and her bladder was shouting at her. Paige hurried to the small bathroom in the storeroom. When she came out, she heard a rustling noise and looked around. What now?
But it was only Casper, rubbing against the bin she kept his food in. “You are such a glutton, cat,” she said. But she grinned, ruffled his ears, and poured him some food. “You deserve this. You might not be a mouser, but you helped me catch a rat.”
A crash came from the basement, causing Paige to jump. She composed herself quickly. The police must have been using the underground tunnel to get the barrels from the bookshop’s basement. She decided to open the door at the top of the stairwell so they could bring them up easier.
She didn’t see anyone when she opened the door and peered down the stairs. There wasn’t a light switch down there—at least not an obvious one that she’d seen. Looking around, Paige spotted the small flashlight Neal had left on the metal shelf. She grabbed it and headed down. When her foot hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs, she realized her mistake. The cops would have had their own flashlights. But there was no bright light on down here. It was as dim as usual.
A hand clamped down on her arm, yanking her forward and then spinning her around. Another arm came around the front of her body, and she felt a cold, hard object at her throat. She froze, not wanting to move and get hurt accidentally.
“I can’t go to jail. You’re going to have to help me.” There was no doubt in her mind that it was Jay who held her tightly. A bit of his messy blond hair was visible at the corner of her vision.
“There’s nothing I can do.” She kept her voice calm and slow, not wanting to alarm the crazy, gun-wielding wannabe-surfer-but-really-drug-dealer. “There are cops everywhere up there. You’re just going to get yourself into more trouble doing this. Let me go, give me the gun, and I’ll go get my brother. You’ll be okay.”
“I won’t be okay. I’ve never been okay, and I never will be. My dad was right all along—I’m a loser. He and my brother are the successful ones. They make tons of money without any effort. Dad said I’d never get a ring going in Comfort Cove. He said I was a joke because I wanted to be near the ocean. When I started making money here, Dad actually seemed like he respected me for a while. But it didn’t last. He wanted me to make more and more all the time. Pushed me to expand.”
Paige swallowed hard and regretted it. The action shoved the gun further into the skin of her throat.
“And you needed the bookstore to expand.” She forced herself to forget the gun and focus on keeping Jay distracted. She felt him nodding behind her.
“I didn’t mean to kill your aunt.” He said it so softly that if her ear hadn’t been right next to his mouth, she wouldn’t have heard him. His voice sounded plaintive, like he was pleading with her to believe him. “I put a small amount of that drug in her coffee, that’s all. I wanted to make her more relaxed . . . maybe loopy . . . so she’d sign the papers and let me have the bookstore. She would have been well-off then, if she’d taken my deal. She could have retired or whatever. Since the old lady was sorta losing it anyway—going around talking to herself—I figured nobody would believe her afterward when she said she hadn’t meant to sell me the shop.” He paused and said, even more softly, “I didn’t know she had a weak heart.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting her rage toward Jay. Poor Aunt Nora. She hadn’t deserved to die. She’d only wanted to keep running her bookshop and be left alone. And she hadn’t been losing it. She was only talking to Captain McDougall. Just like Paige.
“What are you going to do with me?” She didn’t want to hear about how he’d killed her aunt anymore. She needed to keep her wits about her and stay strong or she’d follow Nora right into death.
“Mexico. My dad will help me once I’m there. I’ll let you go when we cross the border. I promise. You just gotta help me get out of here.” He pulled the gun back slightly.
Paige saw a flash of movement at the top of the stairs. It was a black shoe. One of the cops was coming down. The last thing she wanted was for the situation to turn violent. She’d be in the crossfire, and the officer wouldn’t see what was coming until it was too late. He or she might be killed.
It could even be Scott.
Hoping to catch Jay off guard, Paige made a plan. She lifted her right foot and quickly stomped down as hard as she could on the top of his foot. She was rewarded with a satisfying crunch. He was wearing his beachy flip-flops, just like she’d hoped.
Several things seemed to happen at once. The arm Jay had around her waist fell away as he cried out in pain. The officer’s foot froze on the stairs. Paige yanked herself forward, away from Jay, but he didn’t go down. Instead, he held the gun pointed right at her. She faced him from about three feet away and wished for a miracle—someone to come help her but not get hurt themselves.
Suddenly, an ear-splitting screech tore the air in the tiny, damp basement, echoing off the walls. It sounded like a pack of lions, but it was only one small white cat. Casper launched himself from the staircase onto Jay’s head, scratching, biting, and yowling like a feline four times his size.
Jay yelled, dropped the gun, and started flailing wildly at the cat.
The officer ran the rest of the way down the stairs. It was Scott. He kicked the gun behind himself and ordered Jay to get his hands up. Casper leaped to the floor and ran to Paige, who scooped him up into her arms and cooed into his ear. She could feel his tiny heart pounding, and she knew her own was going just as fast and hard.
“Are you okay?” Scott glanced over his shoulder at her, but she could only nod. He stepped forward, frisked Jay quickly, and then motioned for him to head up the stairs.
Jay’s shoulders slumped. As he limped past Paige, he glanced at her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry.”
Paige realized her body was trembling, and she straightened her spine and followed the two men up to the main floor, still carrying Casper.
It took another two hours for the police to get everything out of both businesses, call the buildings clear, and leave Paige alone in her shop. Scott promised to have Sarah come over and hang out with her soon.
She carried Casper upstairs and opened the logbook. When Captain McDougall appeared, he took one look at her and said, “What’s happened, lass?”
Paige explained everything, and the pirate nodded now and then while she spoke. When she got to the part about Casper, she gave the cat a little squeeze and he purred.
“You did a great job, lad,” the ghost said to the cat. “That was very quick thinking, it was.” Casper purred louder and licked his foot. “I may have underestimated you.”
As she stroked the cat, Paige frowned a little.
“What is it, Paige? Aren’t you glad to have this all zipped up?”
“No. I mean yes. It’s just that I still don’t know who stole Aunt Nora’s first edition books. I really don’t think it was Jay. He doesn’t seem that smart, and he had his hands full with the drug ring.”
The pirate’s brow furrowed. “You might be right.” Then he clapped his hands together. “But that might be a mystery for another day, aye? I think we’re entitled to a little treat for solving this one. Do you have a bottle of rum?”
“But you’re a ghost. You can’t drink.”
“I may be a ghost now, but I was a sailor first. I can drink any man under the table. You’ll see.”