Five minutes before Astrid and Evie entered the bookshop, Beverly had parked across the road opposite her parents’ coffee shop. She hadn’t been able to sit still at home, not once that woman had stared at her through the bedroom window. It was only a coincidence, her looking up like that, but it had shaken Beverly so much, she couldn’t bear to stay in the house. So, even though she was off work supposedly sick, she crawled into her car and drove to town. Perhaps it would be best to go to school for the afternoon at least. Then maybe old crone Conway wouldn’t be on her back all the time.
She was still considering her options as she stared at the coffee shop, wondering how long it would be before her parents went bankrupt. She’d read the accounts, even though they’d hidden them from her. Imagine trying to hide documents on their computer when she was an IT expert. Not that they understood that. She was only a lowly teacher to her family, in a school full of dimly lit kids. But she’d seen the debts and the paperwork for a second mortgage on the house to keep the business afloat.
Beverly peered at the bookshop, surprised it was still open as well and wasn’t closed like most of the other shops, not only on this street, but throughout Eureka Falls. She liked Jack, but he hadn’t done himself any favours in the current economic climate by inviting along for book signings authors whose work could be described as existing on the extreme periphery of the political spectrum. The protestors weren’t numerous, but were enough to scare away most of his regular customers.
At one point, she’d considered doing everyone a favour and planting explosives at his shop to destroy both places, preferably with her parents and brother inside the coffee shop. It was tempting, but she couldn’t come up with a way to do it where the positives outweighed the negatives, no matter how she schemed.
Gathering the materials would be tricky. She could use the dark web, but that presented its own problems. Some participants on there were clearly government agents trying to entrap people. Others were criminals playing a game of temptation and blackmail. She knew that, unless you were on a suicide mission, getting such dangerous items from the internet was a process of time and trust. And she didn’t have the time.
The other problem with blowing up both shops was catching her family while not harming anyone else, especially Jack. He’d always been nice to her when she was younger, and she felt she owed him something. Not that those feelings had stopped her placing a Trojan file on his computer when he asked her to sort out what he thought was a virus, but was only a collection of annoying popups. She enjoyed the irony of fixing his machine by infecting it.
She was contemplating those issues when someone stormed out of the bookshop. From where she sat, Beverly had to do a double-take, not believing what she saw. She rubbed her eyes, and then blinked at the woman shaking her fist outside the Kennedy Book Emporium. There was no doubt about it. That was Evie Church. Evie Church, who’d shut herself away inside the place most of the town called Shady Acres the day after her eighteenth birthday.
This must be to do with Adam.
Beverly’s voice trembled in her head. The rest of her shook even more when she saw the next person come out of the bookshop, take hold of Evie’s hand and lead her to the bench.
It can’t be.
She sank into the seat, her face peeping above the edge of the window like a periscope. But it was the same woman who’d stared into her bedroom earlier. Her fingers shivered against the door, her heart racing faster than any motor vehicle could. Her first instinct was to drive away, but she was fascinated to see what the two women were doing.
But what if my parents recognise my car and come out to speak to me?
Beverly’s mind was a swirl of different options, a voice in her head humming a song she’d heard before.
Should I stay or should I go?
She had no choice. Anxiety had frozen her brain; her breathing slow and laboured as the sweat swam down her face. She was about to sink into the floor when they made the choice for her. The two women stood, Evie Church hugging the older woman before they got into their car and drove away.
Beverly sat there for an age, trying to retain a sense of normality. It was this delay that allowed her to see Jack Kennedy leave his business a minute later. He turned the shop sign to closed and locked the door. She was transfixed by his face, his eyes on stalks and lips trembling as if he’d seen a ghost. She watched him scurry away, and then relaxed as her beating heart returned to normal. Perhaps she should activate the Trojan horse on his computer.
She breathed out slowly and started her car. All she could think about was Conway. She had to kill her before doing anything else. And now she had an idea of how to do it.
Fear had crept up to Jack Kennedy and thrust its fingers deep into his ribs. He nearly fainted when he realised she was in his shop. Her, Evie Church, who he thought would be in Shady Acres for the rest of her life. And there she was, as bold as brass, asking him about the collection of short stories she’d sent him. Did she believe the guff he’d spouted? It didn’t matter if she did now; Evie would eventually remember the novel she’d emailed him and come back and ask about it.
He’d never been so happy as when she’d stormed out and her friend followed her. He waited what seemed like an eternity before closing the shop and heading home. He scampered out and wondered what he was going to do about the problem of Evie Church.