I pounded two of Lu’s chicken mole tacos and didn’t pass up the free churro she offered when I was done, even though Mart tried to make me look unhealthy by ordering a taco salad in an actual, not a fried tortilla, bowl. “Some friend you are,” I joked as she grinned at me.
Back at the shop, Mart returned to a corner of the history section to do a little of her work for the winery, and I gave Mom a wave at her own table covered in paper and devices in the corner of the café. I laughed to myself about the idea of charging them rent for our shared workspace as I straightened the Lippman table again.
“We’ve been selling her books steadily,” Marcus said as he brought a few more titles out from the back. “But I think we’ll have enough to sell here tomorrow even without breaking into our stash for tomorrow night, especially with the order you have coming in the morning.”
I nodded and told him about my idea of inviting Laura to do another signing in a few months.
“Good plan, but maybe you should check with her about that so that we know if we can make that promise before we do it,” Marcus suggested.
“You’re right. I’ll text her.” I headed back to the register to shoot off my message and, again, got a reply almost immediately. She readily agreed and would ask her publicist to contact me about a date. She seemed confident we could find something since she could, as I suggested, stay with me again that night and make the drive back to Baltimore less than twenty-four hours later.
With that squared, I spent a bit of time getting special order forms made so that we could input the orders after the weekend when things would be a bit slower around the shop. Between that process, answering Mom’s questions about Laura’s books, and the steady stream of customers who wanted recommendations and decided to make purchases, I was zonked by the time it came for us to close.
Normally on Thursday, I might have gone home early and left Marcus to close up, but with the event tomorrow and the need to be constantly “attended,” I decided to stay on and suggest a cereal and popcorn dinner to Mart. She was completely on board, so at seven, when we locked the doors, I was ready to veg and watch TV with a cat, a couple of pups, and my best friend.
Of course, the night before a big event was not going to be a quiet one. We had to clean the house and get the guest room ready for Laura, and our yard needed to be mowed. Knowing that I actually enjoyed mowing for the same reason that Mindy enjoyed vacuuming, Mart gave me the privilege, and I spent a surprisingly relaxing hour on our riding mower listening to a book Galen had recommended when I handed him Burns’ bookstore cozy. Little Bookshop Of Murder was another bookstore murder mystery, and it was quite fun, especially since it took place in a beach town.
My daily dose of Vitamin D achieved, the yard looking lovely, and the house looking and smelling great, thanks to Mart’s liberal use of lavender-based cleaning products, we settled in with bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and very liberally buttered popcorn. Our show of choice for the night was Ted Lasso, which everyone in the world had recommended as the feel-good option that we couldn’t miss. One episode in, and we were both laughing and crying. It was the perfect show for the night, except for the fact that we didn’t want to turn it off and go to bed when we should have.
I did manage some self-control before we started a third episode, though, and got myself to bed by eleven. Seven a.m. was going to come early, and I needed a good night’s sleep to be prepared for tomorrow and I knew I wouldn’t sleep much the next night with Laura Lippman in my house.
Unfortunately, the fact that I had been threatened on the week that a world-famous author was coming to stay with me only sunk in just as I started to drift off, and then I couldn’t sleep at all. I thought about texting Tuck to ask if we could have a protective detail for one night while she was here, but then reconsidered when I realized that might derail any hopes of friendship I had with this woman, not to mention making her very ill at ease.
Rather, I decided I’d ask Mart if Symeon could stay over on the couch the next night. I didn’t think he’d mind, and his presence as a chef the next morning for breakfast would be a huge bonus. With that hopeful thought, I eventually drifted off.
The alarm sounded, and I jumped out of bed immediately, already wired for the day. I tried to slow down a little in the shower and enjoy the hot water, but I was too anxious to get to the store.
Because she knew me, Mart had gotten up as soon as she heard my alarm and was showered and waiting in the kitchen with bacon and egg sandwiches for us to eat as we walked to the store. “Thank you,” I said as I gave her a quick hug. “I’m already kind of a wreck.”
“You care, Harvey, and that’s a good thing.” She slipped her tote bag over her arm and dropped my messenger one over my shoulder. “Now, let’s get to that store of yours and get the day started right.”
I held up the sandwich as she locked the door behind us. “Bacon is always the right start for the day, right guys?” I looked at the two dogs who were, ever hopeful, waiting to get a piece of bacon.
“Don’t let them fool you. They each had their portion already. I don’t withhold bacon from any living creature,” Mart said.
As we walked, I told Mart that I hoped we’d have a good turnout tonight and that I was eager to hear Mindy’s plans for the money we might raise.
The corner of Mart’s lip turned up when I said that, and I looked at her. “You know what she’s going to do with the money?”
“I do, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” Mart said and picked up her walking pace.
I pouted. “Why do you know, and I don’t?”
“Because I am an integral part of the planning and you are a woman with a business to run.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” I was frustrated. “Who else knows? Mom I suppose? And Lu? Marcus?”
Mart wouldn’t look at me, and my heart sank. “I’m the only one who doesn’t know aren’t I?’
“Trust me, Harvey,” Mart said as we turned onto Main Street. “ It will be worth the wait when you find out, and you won’t have to wait much longer.” The smile on her face grew as she looked down the street.
I followed her line of sight and saw a large banner flapping over the door to my shop. I couldn’t read it yet, but given the small crowd of my friends outside, I figured something big must be going on.
I walked even faster, resisting my urge to jog over, but then stopped short when I saw what the banner said, “The Beckett Literacy Program for Children.”
Around me, a few cars beeped their horns since I had stopped right in the middle of crossing the street, and Mart took my hand and pulled me out of traffic. “Surprise,” she said quietly in my ear.
“What is this?” I asked.
“This is what we’re raising money for, Harvey,” Mom said. “It was Mindy’s idea.”
I looked around and found Mindy amongst my other friends. “You’re starting a literacy program at the library?”
“We’re starting a program,” she said and looked at my parents, “in your honor, Harvey.”
I stared at the banner and then at Mindy and back at the banner. I clearly wasn’t processing what was happening.
Mom came over, put her arm around my shoulders, and led me inside to a table, where a display of materials about the program were set up. The brochures and cards all had a blue accent that sat somewhere between royal and teal, my favorite color, and each was labeled, The Beckett Literacy Program. I tried to read what they said, to understand what was happening, but I couldn’t quite grasp what the words meant.
Dad pulled out a chair and gently pressed my shoulders into it. “Harvey, we’ve been planning this for a long time as a way of honoring the work you have done with your store and for this community, a community we now love, too.” His voice was quiet as he knelt beside me.
“When your parents approached Sidney about organizing the program with the library a couple of months ago, he was very excited. He’d been working hard to set up a schedule and planned to use the library for one-on-one literacy tutoring,” Mindy said as she sat down in a chair across from me.
Sidney’s name jarred something loose in me. “But the money from tonight was supposed to benefit the library in Sidney’s honor.” I looked at the faces gathered around me and felt a profound weight in my chest. I was both honored and terribly sad, more sad than ever, about Sidney’s death.
“It will be,” Mom said as she rubbed small circles on my back. “We’re dedicating Henri’s art piece to him at the event tonight, and the tutoring room is already named for him. The sign is being hung today.”
I took a deep breath and then smiled when Rocky set a mug in front of me. “Drink, Harvey. You look a little peaked,” she said.
The mug was warm in my hands, and I let it settle me for a minute as I sipped and studied the materials in front of me. Then, I twisted in the chair to really see who was there and almost cried when I saw that all the people I most cared about were there. “You all knew about this?”
“We are better at keeping secrets than you are,” Tuck said with a smile. He was right. I was a terrible secret keeper, a fact that I actually took pride in because I hated secrets, except for ones like this, which were really gifts more than secrets.
“Apparently,” I said. “Thank you all.” I wanted to stand up and hug each one of them, but I was still feeling a little too wobbly for that. “So how is this going to work?”
Mindy grinned. “All your friends and a few more people from the community have already been trained as literacy tutors. Some will specialize in helping adults, some children, and everyone has gotten instruction on helping people with learning differences like dyslexia.”
I stared, open-mouthed, at the librarian. “All this happened without me knowing?” I knew that wasn’t the central point of what they were saying, but I considered myself a pretty observant person and felt a little stunned I hadn’t known or even suspected something was going on.
Mart laughed. “We aren’t with you all the time, Harvey.”
With my eyes wide, I took another sip of my latte and nodded. “Go on.”
“Tonight’s fundraiser will give us the means to advertise and train more volunteers, and next week, we’ll begin the program in the Sidney Scott Room of the library,” Mom said. “We’ve got a schedule set for after-school tutoring, and we’re offering two mornings a week of training for adults.”
Cate stepped up and said, “We even decorated the room so that if the students feel embarrassed about needing tutoring, they will have a sense of privacy while they work. You’ll have to take a look this evening.”
I shook my head again. “I just can’t believe this, but I’m honored. I see a lot of people here in the store who struggle to read.” I had always been puzzled by that fact since it seemed like only people who could read would come into a bookstore in the first place. But over the years, I’d come to realize that people love books, and they like to be around them, even if they can’t read what’s in them. I’d sat with people on more than one occasion to help them puzzle through something they wanted to find in a book but couldn’t read themselves. I felt privileged to be trusted with that experience, and I’d always wanted to do more.
“That’s where we got the idea, Harvey,” Mom said. “A few months ago at dinner, you told us about a man who came in and wanted to learn more about the history of St. Marin’s but couldn’t read the books himself.”
I remembered that man. He must have been about seventy with skin the color of walnut bark and a silver shock of hair. We sat together on a rainy Sunday for about two hours while I showed him the pictures in the books from our local history section and read him the names of people whose children he had known. It was one of my favorite memories of the store, and now I did remember telling Mom and Dad about it over soup at their house that night. “We will have to find him and offer him tutoring if he wants it,” I said quietly.
“We will,” Henri said. “But now, we have big things to do today, so let’s give Harvey a minute to digest and get to work.”
My friends scattered to various parts of the store to get us ready to open, to straighten the Laura Lippman table, and to, apparently, set up a volunteer sign-up space here in the café. Mom stayed with me, though, and sat down. “You okay with all of this, love?”
“Okay with it? I’m thrilled. Just spinning a bit as I try to catch up. I really can’t believe it, but maybe we should name it in Sidney’s honor, not mine,” I said as I met her gaze.
“No, Harvey. Sidney wanted it named for you because of all the work you’ve done for this community. We are honoring his wishes by naming it for you.” Her voice was firm but kind.
I let the tears that had been threatening to fall slide down my cheeks. “Okay,” I whispered and then, “Thank you.”
Mom took my hands and squeezed them tight. “Harvey, thank you. You have done a remarkable thing here in this store, and you do it out of kindness, not some desire to get rich off books. You are an inspiration.”
Now, I was really crying because my mom didn’t talk like this, not to me. Still, I could tell she meant every word she said. “Thank you, Mama.” I stood up and gave her a hard hug.
Suddenly, all that needed to be done today, plus more now that this was a fundraiser for “my” program, came rushing down, and I was fired up. “Let’s get to work. What do you need me to do?”
Mom grinned. “Let’s take care of your business first, and then Galen will be here just after you open to film you for a promo on his social.”
I laughed. “Did you just say, ‘his social’”?
Mom’s eyes grew wide. “Did I not use the term correctly?”
“No, you did. Just never thought I’d hear you utter that phrase.” I smiled and headed into the store.
Since we’d come in really early, we had plenty of time to do a complete restocking of the shelves, clean the entire shop floor and the breakroom, and load Laura’s books into the trunk of Mom and Dad’s car for delivery to the event tonight. It was when I was putting the last box into the car that I had a staggering revelation. “Laura doesn’t know what all this is about. I don’t want her to be blindsided or feel like I didn’t tell her something. Maybe she’ll feel like I duped—”
Mart took the box from me and smiled. “She knows, Harvey. She’s really excited.”
I stared at my best friend for a minute as understanding bloomed in me. “You took my phone.”
She grinned. “Took might be too strong a description. Glanced at is probably more fitting.” When I scowled, she said. “I just got Laura’s number one evening and texted her to introduce myself and let her know about the program. She really was thrilled.”
I tried to act angry, but I couldn’t keep my smile off my face. “She was, really?”
“Yes, really. She’s offered to help spread the word for us tonight during her reading.” Mart hugged me. “It’s all under control, Harvey. We’ve got this.”
As I walked back into the store, I forced myself to relax and trust that my friends really did have all this managed. I wasn’t particular good at that, letting go of control, but I was really going to try today.
So when Henri told me I needed to sit down so she and Cate could do my hair and makeup for Galen’s filming, I bit my tongue and just did it. Soon, my curls were tamed into a cute but still wild shape around my face, and I had on just enough blush, eye makeup, and lip gloss to make me look like my pale skin had some color to it. I looked good, if a little more “done” than I would normally.
Right at ten, Marcus opened the store, and a larger than normal stream of customers poured in. Many went right to the Literacy Program table, where Mom sat, and signed up to volunteer, and a few folks stepped into the quiet corner where Lu had put up a small sign that read “Get Tutoring.” I smiled. We were off to a great start.
Galen and Mack came in and greeted all of us, including Taco and Mayhem, who led the Bulldog to the front window for some prime snoozing time in the limelight of the customers.
Fortunately, Mom was also planning on being on the video with Galen, and so while he asked me questions about why I thought literacy education was so important and what I hoped for the program, questions I could answer with little prep, Mom managed the information about the program itself, about our fundraiser, and about how people could donate. Apparently, the program was already registered as a nonprofit, so she was able to give a website and information about donations.
By the time the short video shoot for Instagram and TikTok was over, I was even more impressed by all the work that had gone on, and I really wanted to see the website. I grabbed my laptop from behind the register and cued up the URL. It was a simple tasteful site that featured a picture of the library, of my store, and a small one of me as a child reading The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, still my favorite book. It was lovely and very easy to use to donate, to sign up as a volunteer, or to schedule tutoring for yourself or a child.
As I closed my laptop, I looked around my store, where all the people I loved most in the world were bustling to keep my shop looking nice, answering questions about the program, making book recommendations, and generally throwing themselves into something that would help our community in immeasurable ways. If I hadn’t felt so overwhelmed with joy, I might have cried.
Instead, I headed into the children’s section to choose books for the new story time we were starting today. The hour for children and their parents had been on the schedule for a few weeks, and I knew we’d have a good turnout. Despite the fact that it meant our busy day was even busier, I was glad people could see and hear about the program when they came in with their children.
Given the ages of the children who I saw wandering the store, I decided on one board book, Sandra Boynton’s Belly Button Book, and one picture book, an edition of Rapunzel with gorgeous illustrations by Paul O. Zelinsky. Between Boynton’s word play and Zelinsky’s images, I hoped there’d be something to entertain everyone, even the parents.
Fortunately, story time went off without a hitch, and the three dozen children there all browsed with their parents afterwards and gave our already good sales day even more of a boost. One little girl picked up all of Beverly Cleary’s Ramona books, and I grinned. I had loved Ramona as a kid.
As the children and their parents headed out, I shook off the fatigue that threatened to settle after I had exerted so much energy entertaining the youngest among us and turned my mind to tonight’s event. Mom had been faithfully signing up volunteers and Lu, clients, all morning, and I’d seen more than one parent pick up literature about the fundraiser tonight. I was beginning to get the feeling that it would all come together just fine.
Then, Lucy walked in, and I thought my heart might drop out through the bottom of my ribcage. She didn’t try to play off her entrance as casual, but she also didn’t beeline toward me where I stood straightening Laura Lippman’s books in anticipation of the author’s arrival. I sort of froze when I saw her, and then I looked around frantically for someone else who noticed her arrival. Fortunately, Mart had spotted her too and was headed toward us as Lucy and I stared at one another near the front of the store.
As far as I knew, Lucy had been in hiding for almost a week now, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why she was here now. If she wanted to turn herself in, why hadn’t she gone to the police station? Or did she not know Tuck was looking for her? Surely running away from the scene when you had tried to destroy evidence was a fairly obvious reason the police might be wanting to talk to you.
The standoff lasted only a few more seconds because Mart grabbed my arm and dragged me forward toward the young woman. Mart’s intervention was fortunate because I was a half second away from shouting, “What are you doing here?,” which would have been a mistake given the crowd in the shop just then.
Instead, as we approached, I said calmly and miraculously, “Hi Lucy. Good to see you. How can I help?”
Mart gawked at me, at my calmness, I presume, and I had to admit I was a bit amazed at myself, too, given that I wanted to grab this woman and shake her. But my softer words seemed to calm Lucy a bit, and she stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Harvey,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have run.”
I rocked back on my heels at her words and the sincerity with which they were spoken. I instinctively wanted to believe her, and while my instincts were typically right, I knew better than to trust them completely, especially today when my mind and emotions were running hot. “Why did you then?” I asked.
“I was scared,” she said.
I let out a long breath. “Scared of?”
She glanced around. “No one could know.”
“About the note?” Mart asked.
Lucy nodded.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a customer waiting to talk to me, so I reached out and took Lucy’s arm. “Can you wait for me in the café?”
“I’ll sit with you, Lucy,” Mart said and took the young woman’s arm to lead her away.
I talked with the customer for a few minutes and appreciated the time recommending some of my favorite essayists, including Sloane Crosley and Gretel Ehrlich, so that I could pull myself together a bit. Talking about pieces of literature that had taught me and stilled me always helped, and essays often did that better than any other type of writing, at least for me.
By the time, I had rung up the woman’s purchases and walked to the café, Lucy was actually smiling. I pulled up a third chair and sat down. I wanted to be casual and ask what was so funny, but I knew that would feel false to everyone, not just me. So I simply waited until Lucy turned to me.
“I am sorry, Harvey,” Lucy said again.
I nodded. “I hear you, but sorry for what, Lucy?” Then I put my hand on hers. “Wait, don’t tell me anything that I might need to repeat to the sheriff.”
Her eyes grew wide. “What do you mean? I shouldn’t have thrown the note away, I know, but would that get me arrested?”
I sighed. “No, probably not, although it was destroying evidence.” I glanced at Mart.
“Lucy, we are worried that you are about to tell us you killed Sidney,” Mart said matter-of-factly.
Lucy’s hand flew to her mouth, and she let out a tiny squeak as she shook her head violently. “No, no, I didn’t. He was trying to help me.” She hid her face behind her hands and started to cry.
Mart and I looked at each other and, at the same moment, leaned over and hugged Lucy. “It’s okay,” Mart said. “You’re not alone.”
The number of times Mart or my other friends had said those words to me over the years was countless, but every time, the assurance of companionship was what I needed most. Even now, though Mart had spoken to Lucy, I took comfort in knowing that was true for me as well.
I gently pulled one of Lucy’s hands down and looked her in the eye. “Are you in trouble?”
Lucy stared at me and then nodded. “I don’t know how I got here.”
Mart and I scooted our chairs closed.
“I thought I was making my own choice, deciding what was best for me, but now I realize I was bribed and manipulated.” The tears rolled down her face, but she didn’t crumble.
I nodded. I’d been in situations where I thought I was in control and realized, too late, that I wasn’t.
“He bought me things. He took care of my apartment. He came to the events I held at the library. We laughed. I didn’t even care that he was so much older.” She shook her head. “But now I realize that was just all about making him feel good, feeding into his ego about what a man should do.”
Mart sighed. We both knew the look of this, the way men we knew had been taught their job was to care for not to partner. The way some men used that “care” as control. It was exhausting.
“But when I realized he wasn’t really invested in anything but himself, I tried to break it off. He threatened me, told me he would take my cat, Snickers, and report me for animal abuse.” She took a deep breath then lowered the pitch of her voice. “’It’s only a small step from there to implying you abuse the children in the library.’”
“He threatened to say you were a pedophile,” Mart whispered with as much shock as a whisper could carry.
Lucy nodded.
“Oh, Lucy,” I said as I hugged her again. “Will you tell us who it was?” I thought I knew, but I needed to hear her say the name.
The bell over the door rang, and I turned, on instinct, to look at the customer who had come in. I took a deep breath. It was Laura Lippman.
I looked at Mart, who knew Lippman’s face from her book jackets, and sighed. “Lucy, I have to go, but Mart will stay with you and keep talking.”
Lucy’s face fell, and she stood up. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be alright. I just needed you to know that I wasn’t a bad person.”
I stood up with her. “Please, Lucy. Tell Mart who threatened you. We can help.” I didn’t mention that I hoped Mart could talk her into telling Tuck, but I knew that’s just what my best friend would do.
Lucy shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m sorry to have bothered you. You obviously have important things to attend to.” She gave us a small smile and then walked out the door of the shop.
I groaned. “Poor girl. She might have told us . . .”
Mart nodded. “And we might have confirmed who killed Sidney.” She glanced over at Lippman who was smiling near the display of her books. “You go. I’ll get a hold of Tuck and update him.”
I threw my head back and exhaled loudly. “Okay. Thanks, Mart. See you soon.”
As I headed toward the shop floor, Rocky intercepted me with two to-go mugs. “For you and Ms. Lippman.” Rocky patted my shoulder and turned back to her counter. That woman was so kind and so perceptive.
I greeted Laura with all the enthusiasm I could muster. I was thrilled she was here – more than thrilled, actually – but Lucy’s revelation and the events of the week were wearing me a bit thin. I hoped our guest reader couldn’t see that in my face.
If she could, she didn’t show it as she gushed over the display and told me how glad she was to be here. “If you don’t need me here today,” she said, “and don’t mind me going to your place without you – since I’m sure you’re needed here – I’ll just go rest up for tonight.”
I smiled and looked over at Marcus and then Mom. They had things under control for a few minutes. “I would love to show you the library where the event will be and then take you to our house. That is, if you fancy a short walk now.”
I was eager to spend a little time with our guest and to be a good host, and I knew Henri and Bear would be great companions for her later.
Fortunately, Laura grinned and said, “That’s perfect. I might just explore a bit before the reading, that is if you don’t mind seeing that my copy of my book for the reading and my signing pen make it to the library later. I don’t really want to carry them around.” She held out a copy of My Life as a Villainess, her new essay collection, that was chock-full of hot pink tabs, and then slid a Uniball Vision Elite pen into the front cover.
“Of course.” Marcus had joined us, and after I introduced him, I asked if he’d take special care to be sure Ms. Lippman’s things arrived at the event tonight.
“I’d be honored,” he said and grabbed an All Booked Up tote off the rack by the register and slid the book inside. It was a good touch, and I loved the possibility that Laura Lippman might carry the name of my store to events with her.
After being sure that our special guest didn’t mind some canine company – and regretting that I hadn’t asked about pet allergies before agreeing to let her stay at my house – the four of us headed out. We chatted about the town and about books as we walked around the store and back to the library and then took the easiest way to my house. Our conversation was fun and light, and I found myself relaxing for the first time that day.
By the time I unlocked our front door, I was laughing at a story Laura told me about a book signing where someone had come with every book she’d ever written to have her sign. “It was flattering, but man did my hand hurt after,” she said.
I assured her that we had a two-book maximum for tomorrow’s signing and then gave her a quick tour of the house, including an introduction to Aslan, before handing her the spare key and telling her to make herself at home.
From the way she settled into our comfy couch, I felt confident she would do just that.