The next morning, Derek left early for a conference call at the office, and I lingered at the dining room table, drinking coffee and planning my day.
Ever since our apartment had been invaded by murdering thugs two months earlier, Derek and I had been sticking pretty close to home. It wasn’t something we had discussed at length, but rather the idea had evolved during one of those mind-melding moments that sometimes happened between two people who just loved being with each other and seemed to hold the same values and feelings about life and such. Or whatever. I had no real idea.
Whatever the reason, for a while now we had deliberately been spending much of our free time together exploring our eclectic way South of Market Street San Francisco neighborhood, rather than venturing too far away from home base.
That was why, at least three or four nights a week, we would invariably find ourselves walking across the street to pick up dinner at one of the Courtyard restaurants. Naturally, we always took a few minutes to browse through the bookshop, visit with Terrence and Eddie, and pick up the latest fiction from a favorite author. Occasionally we would run into other friends from the neighborhood and wind up sitting in the inner courtyard to chat and maybe sip a beer from the Thai restaurant.
If I was out by myself, I would find a small table in the shade-filled courtyard and read a book while enjoying a smoothie or latte. And sometimes, on the weekend, Derek would join me to while away a few hours in the pretty surroundings.
We felt at home in all the shops—okay, Derek wasn’t a huge fan of the hat shop; it was a little too pink and girlie for him. Even so, we both were enjoying getting to know the owners and other customers better. This section of the city had become like an oasis for both of us. Sure, one of these days we might start heading farther afield, so to speak. But for the moment, being here was what we both wanted.
But now our beloved neighborhood destination point had been touched by tragedy. The loss was personal and maybe it was selfish of me to feel this way, but I was furious. I hated that someone had destroyed the good vibes we’d always enjoyed in our quiet, cozy Courtyard shops. I especially hated that Joey, who wouldn’t have ever hurt a fly, had been the target of some horrible person’s violent actions. And Will Rabbit, who was as kind and friendly as anyone I’d ever met, was fighting for his life in the hospital. It wasn’t fair. All of us who had known Will and Joey were suffering, too, while some killer was walking around the city as free as could be.
And again, maybe it was me being completely self-absorbed, but I was sick of feeling this distinctive kind of pain and anger. I’d been through it all before too many times, and it made me want to lash out at something, anything. Of course, that wouldn’t solve the problem. Others who’d known the victim better than I had suffered much more. Knowing that their lives would never be the same again was a realization that hurt me on a visceral level. I wondered how many times a person could survive a blow to the psyche like this before she simply crawled off into a corner and gave up on the world.
I knew I was feeling sorry for myself, just as I knew it wouldn’t do any good to keep wallowing like this. But darn it, why me? Why had I been the one to find the body? Was there some cosmic thing going on? Was I working off karma from a past life? And if so, who had I been, Jack the Ripper?
And why was I already plotting my next move to find out more about the victims and more about the suspects, and trying to get answers to solve the puzzle? If past history was any gauge, I would end up being the one most determined to find justice for the deceased. Oh, sure, the police would do what they could, but I always seemed to be the one who took it as a personal affront to the universe that someone was getting away with murder. Maybe it was because I’d been the one to stumble over the body in the first place. It stood to reason that I would be unwavering in my quest to find answers. In my mind, those two roles of finder and avenger went hand in hand. I’d found the body; now it was mine to avenge. That awareness hadn’t come easily, but I was now at a place where, after some mental struggling, I could accept it. And I took my responsibility very seriously.
That didn’t make me special, believe me. As I’d told Inspector Lee the day before, I would have done anything to change this weird proclivity for finding dead bodies. For now, though, this just seemed to be the way things rolled for me. And I had to say, I was getting pretty good at finding the answers to the mysteries that kept getting dumped on me.
As if she could feel my angst, Charlie wrapped her warm, fuzzy body around my ankles and made herself comfortable. I had to smile. How odd that, in an instant, a small cat could transform my mood from grumpy and suspicious to happy and grateful. It was a minor miracle.
“Time to get to work,” I murmured a few moments later, and Charlie untangled herself from my feet. After pushing my chair away from the dining room table, I stood and shook away any remaining self-pity I was feeling. It was time to stop whining and take action. I began to walk and made it as far as the coffeepot, where I filled up my cup. I couldn’t very well take action without a little more caffeine, right?
After placing the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, I grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and sat down at the kitchen counter. My version of taking action always started with making a list.
First, I listed all the shops at the Courtyard, along with the names of their proprietors. From talking to them, I hoped to get an idea of whether Joey’s friends or family members visited him much. Was there a jealous ex-wife in the background? Maybe he had an envious brother who had always coveted the shoe repair business but their dad had chosen Joey as his successor instead.
It could happen.
While I was at the Courtyard, I would have to remember to check out the pie shop, because, lest I forgot, Derek’s parents would be here in two days. I wrote it down on the list, even though it had nothing to do with Joey, because I didn’t want to forget the pie!
Next on the list were the property developers. I had no intention of going around investigating every property developer in town, mainly because I’d promised Inspector Lee I wouldn’t. But I wanted to remember to bring up that possibility with my Courtyard friends.
I decided to stop at Kitty’s hat shop first thing. She always seemed to know what was going on with everyone else in the neighborhood. I just hoped she had calmed down from her crazed rant the day before, because when Kitty was in a good mood, there was no one better to share gossip with. Even sticky subjects like a recent murder or assault, or the possibility that the building might be sold, would ordinarily be subjects Kitty would happily dive right into. But now, with her being so overwrought over Joey’s death, all bets were off. I would have to proceed with great caution, especially since Kitty was just as likely to be Joey’s killer as any other shop owner in the Courtyard.
I made a few notes on possible ways to bring up the topic without setting her off on a rant. I thought the best way to approach the subject might be to ask her what she thought of Bonnie being involved with Joey. The topic could very well send her into another tailspin, but on the other hand she might take it as an opportunity to commiserate and complain about her landlady. Who didn’t love to do that? As long as she didn’t start screaming and moaning, I figured I could put up with a few minutes of her raving.
I wondered if Bonnie would be out and about today. I wondered if the Rabbit Hole would be closed until Will Rabbit returned from the hospital. Would Bonnie try to keep it open in the meantime? I hoped so. It was a popular neighborhood spot for smoothies and for fresh fruits and vegetables. And I had a feeling that Will Rabbit would want it to stay open.
I didn’t know the pie shop people very well. Sadly, it wasn’t a place where Derek and I hung out on a regular basis, for our own health and welfare. But now I wanted to get their take on what had happened to Joey, and buying a chocolate cream pie seemed like the perfect excuse to make conversation.
With the bare bones of a plan of action sketched out, I grabbed my jacket, slung my purse across my torso, locked up the house, and took off across the street.
My first stop, as planned, was the hat shop. It was located at the southwestern corner of the Courtyard, and the window display had recently been changed to feature the latest spring hat fashions. Among the many delights were a number of lovely Easter bonnets and several insanely large flowery organza confections suitable for the Kentucky Derby.
Kitty was with a well-dressed woman who was determined to find the perfect fascinator for a spring wedding. Having stayed up all night to watch the royal wedding several years ago, I was familiar with the fascinator sensation. I just couldn’t figure out how you could get that tiny excuse for a hat to stay on your head. I considered myself lucky that that would never be one of my personal problems.
I slowly browsed around the adorable shop with its clever displays of designer hats on mannequin heads and hanging on hooks along the walls. There were rows of scarves draped gracefully around a brass bar, and lots of jewelry in glass display cases on every table in the store. Each of those tables was covered in layers of flowery cloths with vases of beautifully dried roses.
I surreptitiously glanced over to observe Kitty working with her customer.
“Oh, honey,” Kitty gushed. “You look absolutely Gaga-licious. Do you love it or do you love it?”
The woman stared at herself in the full-length mirror, turning her head this way and that. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”
“Cute?” Kitty practically snarled the word. “There is nothing cute about it. I’ll have you know that this hat is a one-of-a-kind actual piece of art. It’s structurally spectacular. But I understand if you can’t handle something so extravagantly irresistible. Not everyone can. Let me show you something over here that I think—”
“No!” the customer cried. “I can handle it. Absolutely. I’ll take it. I love it.”
Kitty rewarded her with a gentle smile. “Of course you can handle it. You’re marvelous. You look like a queen.” She walked with her over to the counter and rang up the sale, cooing and calming her down and honestly making her feel like she was the smartest woman in the universe. Finally, the woman strolled out of the shop, carrying a large, flashy leopard-skin hatbox with her new veiled buttercream pillbox hat packed securely inside.
“Well, that took forever,” Kitty said, tucking the paperwork from the purchase into a drawer in the counter. She suddenly shook her shoulders and arms with giddy excitement. “Finally, we can talk.”
I grinned, wholly encouraged by her snarky eagerness. “That hat she bought was gorgeous.”
“It was cute, wasn’t it?”
I gaped at her. “Cute?”
“Oh, you heard that.” Kitty laughed gleefully. “Well, you could see for yourself that she wasn’t going to be convinced to buy something she thought was merely cute. She wanted unique, out-of-this-world, fabulous.”
“I think she got it.”
She wore a Cheshire cat grin. “I think so, too.”
I smiled as I tried on a variegated blue silk scarf hanging along the wall. “I just thought I’d stop by and make sure you were feeling okay. After yesterday, I was so worried about you.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” she said, replacing the blue scarf with a gold one. “I suppose I’d better get my apology out of the way. I’m sorry for going off on you yesterday. But I was in a panic. One of the cooks from the Thai restaurant ran over to tell me he’d seen the paramedics wheeling Joey out to the ambulance and I just lost it.”
“That must’ve been awful for you.” Yes, I was laying it on a little thick, but I wanted to hear her story and this seemed the best way to get it.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t realize the police were already there. I thought I’d be able to go full bore on Bonnie, but I hadn’t planned on putting on a show in front of San Francisco’s Finest. Anyway, I’m sorry you received the brunt of my temporary madness.”
I waved off her words. “No worries. As I said, I was just concerned about you.” I reached for a black-and-white polka-dot pillbox hat and carefully set it on my head. I couldn’t say why, but it was calling out to me.
Kitty reached up and tapped it, tilting it jauntily. “Oh, now, that’s darling.”
I checked myself out in the mirror. Cute, I thought absently, and almost laughed. It was a lot more than cute; it was stylish and fun. I knew I could handle wearing something like this, but the question was, why? What in the world would I do with a four-hundred-dollar polka-dot pillbox hat? Of course, Derek’s parents would be here soon, and since they were British, they probably saw lots of fashionable hats everywhere. Maybe I should get it? As I contemplated the answer, I said, “I thought you and Bonnie were good friends.”
“We were mostly always friends of convenience,” Kitty admitted. “Frenemies, I guess you’d call us. But now, forget it. I feel so betrayed. The funny thing is, I knew she would try to steal him away from me. She’s done it before. Heck, she’s slept with every man in the neighborhood—why not Joey? I guess I never really cared about the others, but with Joey it got personal.”
It suddenly hit me. “You loved him.”
“I did.” She sniffed. “He was easy to love.”
“I’m so sorry, Kitty.”
“Maybe I would’ve grown to accept that he was happier being with Bonnie. Maybe we could’ve been friends again. But then she went and killed him.”
Frowning, I took the hat off and placed it back on the mannequin’s head. At least Kitty wasn’t screaming the words as she’d done the day before, but it was just as chilling to hear her say it. “You really think she killed him? Why?”
“Why? Because she’s crazy.” Kitty straightened the little pillbox hat on the mannequin and rearranged a colorful cascade of berets on the table before adding, “And let’s not forget the fact that she’s done it before.”
I was reaching out to touch a silky-looking quilted bag, but that stopped me. “Say . . . what?”
“She killed her husband,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.
“Her husband,” I repeated slowly, still not believing what I was hearing. “The one who owned this building?”
“Yes.”
The simple, one-word affirmation caused my throat to go dry. She seemed so positive, it was hard not to believe her. “Are you sure about that?”
She gave a reluctant shrug. “No, of course not. But still, I don’t doubt it. She’s a mean, tough cookie. Believe me.”
Okay, since they were “frenemies,” I could understand her spreading the usual gossip. But accusing someone of murdering her husband was a little over-the-top. Maybe Kitty wasn’t over her “rant” phase as much as she thought she was.
“I guess you know her pretty well,” I managed.
“Too well.” She emphasized the words.
“Was she ever investigated for the crime?”
She heaved a sigh. “The police looked into it briefly but couldn’t find enough evidence. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t do it.”
I knew I was still gaping, still incredulous, but I had to ask. “But . . . exactly what did happen?”
With her lips pursed dramatically, she resembled an eight-year-old know-it-all. “Let’s just say the poor man died under suspicious circumstances.”
“How?” It was probably rude of me to push, but I was dying to find out the details. And also, I really didn’t believe she knew anything. “Come on, Kitty. You can’t leave me hanging now that you’ve said this much. Was he stabbed? Shot? Poisoned? Did he die in his sleep? How long ago did it happen?”
“Gosh, it must be five or six years ago by now. Anyway, I have reason to believe she deliberately switched medications on him. One day he was doing fine and a few days later he was dead. It appeared to be a heart attack, but he’d had a complete physical just a few weeks before. So she either poisoned him or fed him some kind of pharmaceutical cocktail that sent him right over the edge.”
“Why do you suspect her?”
Kitty stopped fiddling with her hats and turned to face me. “Because she was always talking to me about getting a divorce, but she couldn’t because her prenuptial agreement stated that she wouldn’t receive any money if she left him.”
“That’s harsh.”
“I thought so, too. But her husband was a sly old dog. And I do mean old. He was more than twenty years older than her. And obviously he recognized a gold digger when he saw one. He wasn’t going to give her one inch of wiggle room.”
“So she could’ve divorced him, but she cared too much about the money.” I frowned. “But that doesn’t mean she killed him.”
“Bonnie wasn’t exactly subtle about it,” Kitty said. “She was always hinting about finding the perfect murder weapon. She would laugh about all the mysteries she liked to read where someone came up with some flawless way to kill someone. And then one day her husband dropped dead. Trust me, it wasn’t through natural causes.”
“So you suspect she found the perfect weapon.”
Her eyes narrowed and she pounded her left fist against her right palm. “I know she did. I just can’t prove it.”
“He owned this building, right?”
“Right, and several others around town. His death made Bonnie a wealthy woman.” She went back to straightening things, lining up the pretty gold chains that dangled on an intricate tree-shaped display. “I have no idea why she hangs around down here when she could live up in Pacific Heights or over in Sea Cliff.”
“But this is a beautiful building,” I insisted. “And the neighborhood is pretty awesome, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think Bonnie thinks so. She’s always wanted more. But I agree with you. I love it here.” She turned in a circle. “I love my shop and I love my apartment. Did you know I have a view of the bay from my front room? I’ll never leave—unless I’m forced out.”
“Would Bonnie force you to move?”
“I hope not.” Nervous now, she fiddled with another stack of hats. “Although, after yesterday’s little rant, I suppose I wouldn’t blame her. I’m trying to keep a low profile today. I haven’t dared to venture out of the store. I don’t want to see her just yet.”
I smiled, trying to keep it light. “That was no little rant, by the way.”
She pressed her fingers against her closed eyes. “It was major, wasn’t it?”
“Sorry, but yeah, I’d say so.” My smile softened. “And as you mentioned, it probably didn’t help that you accused her of murder in front of the homicide detective assigned to the case.”
“So you’re saying it was a little over-the-top?” She snorted a laugh. “Oh man, I really blew it.” Leaning against a gold vanity table, she held up her fist in protest. “Okay, if I get a chance to apologize, I will. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe she’s guilty. I do. She is.” With a sigh, she added, “I guess I might’ve burned a bridge or two there.”
“Maybe, but you know, Bonnie wasn’t in the best place yesterday, either. Maybe she’s forgotten most of it.” I didn’t really believe that, but there was no point in rubbing it in. “Still, an apology couldn’t hurt.” I tried to keep a smile on my face. I was so glad to see her remain calm during our conversation. Where was the screaming, ranting harridan of the day before?
“That’s good advice. I’ll try to be nice.”
I hoped so. With Joey’s death, it felt as though the Courtyard was already changing rapidly. I didn’t want to lose Kitty, too.
“How long ago did Bonnie get involved with Joey?” I asked.
“About four months ago.” She strolled around the shop, tidying things as she went. “Maybe she didn’t realize how much I loved him. I mean, if you saw Joey and me together, we were always having fun. That’s all it looked like, just fun and games. We were happy and we acted like kids together. The thing is, Bonnie can’t stand it when someone besides her is happy. She gets jealous at the drop of a hat.” Kitty glanced around the shop. “Pardon the pun.”
I smiled and tried on another scarf, checked myself out in the mirror, and set it back on the brass bar.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Joey was actually with me the night Bonnie made her move. She knocked on my door one evening and begged Joey to come check out some problem she said they were having with the plumbing in Joey’s shop.”
“Plumbing problems.”
“Yeah. Pretty lame, right? But naturally, since it was his shop, he ran off to help her. And he never returned.”
I shook my head. “That’s not right.”
She sniffed again and her mouth worked as she fought to keep more tears at bay. “No, it’s not.”
“You poor thing.” Yes, I was pandering, but so what? I was getting Kitty to talk, and besides, the trick Bonnie pulled to lure Joey away was really not nice.
Of course, Bonnie didn’t exactly kidnap Joey. He didn’t have to stay with her. He should’ve gone back to Kitty’s place, but I had a feeling Kitty wouldn’t want to hear me ragging on Joey. Still, if what she said was true, Joey was starting to sound like a bit of a slut.
I mentally bit my tongue for thinking ill of the dead.
Kitty shook her finger in the air. “And I know the only reason why Bonnie went after him was because she was jealous of me. She had to steal him away. She’s just psycho that way.”
Kitty thought for a moment and then reconsidered her statement. “Okay, that’s probably not the only reason she stole him away from me. I mean, you’ve met Joey, right? He’s awesome. An Italian god among men. Tall, strong, sexy, sweet. And, Lord have mercy, he was an animal in bed—let me tell you.”
Please don’t, I wanted to say, but I just nodded without speaking.
“He made a girl feel like she was the queen of the world.”
“Wow. That sounds pretty special.”
“I know, right? And now he’s gone. I still can’t believe it.” She blinked and a single tear escaped. She sniffed long and hard, then gazed around the shop, and I wondered if she was going to break down and sob. But after a few seconds, she seemed to remember I was still there.
“Oh, Brooklyn,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s find you a hat.”
I smiled at the obvious pivot and bided my time over the next ten minutes as I tried on almost every hat in her store.
Finally, she scanned a row of casual hats assembled along one wall. She picked out a dignified yet casual straw hat and placed it carefully on my head. Fluffing my hair so that it curled around my shoulders, she tilted her head to study me. “I think that’s the one for you.”
I turned to stare at myself in the mirror—and fell in love. Kitty was right. It was simply darling, made of thinly woven straw, with a malleable four-inch brim slightly upturned at the edge. The band around the crown was a two-inch-wide white-and-navy-striped grosgrain ribbon. I could see myself wearing it everywhere. To the beach, to a party, to a summer wedding, walking in the vineyards. Everywhere.
I sighed as I turned this way and that. It was love at first sight, but still . . . did I really need a straw hat, no matter how adorable it was?
“It suits you perfectly,” she whispered.
I smiled at her. “Is it Gaga-licious?”
“Absolutely. It’s spectacular.”
I laughed. “Okay, now you’re just lying.”
“I’m not.” Kitty tipped her head to one side to study me. “It was made for you.”
“Unfortunately, I completely agree.” I took one more look in the mirror and nodded. “I’ll take it.”
She laughed and shot her fist up in the air in victory. “Yay! Now you have another decision to make.” Then she walked over to the wall of hatboxes. “Would you like to go wild or sensible?”
“I’ve already gone sensible with the hat. Let’s go for wild on the hatbox.”
“That’s the spirit.”
As we stood at the cash register, I asked, “I keep hearing rumors of property developers looking to buy the Courtyard. Do you think Bonnie would ever sell the building?”
“She can’t,” Kitty said as she entered information into the computer.
“Why not?”
She glanced up. “According to her late husband’s will, Bonnie can’t sell unless every single shop owner agrees to sell. I think her husband did it deliberately because he really loved this place and didn’t trust Bonnie not to pull the rug out from under his favorite tenants. So, thanks to that clause in the will, this place will never be sold unless we’re all in agreement. No matter what Bonnie wants.”
I wondered if the other tenants really felt the same way. I also wondered what would happen once the dust had settled on Joey’s murder. I hoped they would all stick together. And what if Bonnie came back around to Kitty in need of a friend? Would Kitty acquiesce? She seemed adamant about never being friends with Bonnie again, but girlfriends sometimes worked these things out.
We chitchatted about the places I might wear my new hat until the sale was finalized. Then, strangely enough, I walked out of Kitty’s shop feeling a little happier that I had a new hat and was carrying it in a flashy new shocking pink hatbox. And how weird was that? I didn’t need a new hat. I never wore hats, except in winter when I needed something for warmth.
Kitty was right, though, about the hat. And she was right about the hatbox. Carrying it really did make me feel stylish and frivolous and fun. I had the oddest urge to start whistling. I felt happy and plucky. And that was a word I was pretty sure I’d never used about myself before.
Kitty was right about something else, too. High tea with Derek’s well-bred English parents was the perfect occasion to wear a hat.
As I crossed the inner courtyard, I knew I’d spent too much time with Kitty, but it was all worth it, I thought. I glanced around, knowing I should’ve been headed straight to the pie shop, but I detoured into the bookshop first.
“Brooklyn,” Eddie cried, greeting me jovially. Then he noticed what I was carrying. “Ah, I see you’ve been to visit our Kitty.”
I shook my head. “Every time I go in there, I come out with something I never thought I needed.”
“I’ve got the same problem,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. After a beat, he added, “That’s a joke.”
I laughed. “I know. I got it.”
“Thank goodness. I didn’t want you to think I liked wearing women’s hats.” He winced. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
I laughed again, then gazed longingly at the Alice in Wonderland tucked away in its protective case. “How’s my book today?”
“It’s happy and healthy. Thanks. Did you want to take a look at it?”
“No,” I said with a smile. “I can be strong for one day. But I might be back tomorrow to check it out.”
“We’re always here for you.”
“Oh, hi there, Brooklyn,” Terrence said, walking out of the small storeroom at the back of the shop. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. How about you, Terrence?” I decided to push it a little. “That was quite a shock yesterday. Are you doing all right today?”
Eddie frowned. “I guess I missed all the excitement.”
“It was a tragedy,” Terrence muttered irately. “There was no excitement. How callous can you get?”
Eddie glanced at me and rolled his eyes. “I meant no harm, Terrence. Joey was my friend, too.”
“Well, you couldn’t prove it by me. All you ever did was bitch about him.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “I did not.”
“Oh, come on. You hated him coming in here.” Terrence turned to me. “I can’t count the times Eddie grumbled about how Joey’s dirty hands were touching all the books. And how he always smelled like shoe wax.”
“Well, he did,” Eddie said defensively. “And we have very expensive, very old books for sale here that I care about, even if you don’t. But look, that doesn’t mean I didn’t like him. I understand. He was a cobbler. Of course he had dirty hands. But . . . but he cleaned up well.”
Terrence scowled. “Bonnie seemed to think so.”
“Here we go,” Eddie said with a dramatic sigh, which made me think they’d had this discussion a few dozen times in the past.
“Look, let’s not get into the whole Bonnie saga,” Eddie continued. “Just face it—she likes other men. Lots of other men. Get over it.”
Terrence’s chin jutted out. “She loved me.”
Eddie shook his head. “You’re delusional.”
“She gave me a rare gift and it was stolen from—”
“Please stop,” Eddie said loudly. “Do yourself and all of us a favor. Don’t speak.”
I totally agreed with Eddie. I really didn’t want to hear what Terrence was about to say next.
“I’d better get going,” I said quickly.
Eddie shook his finger at his brother-in-law. “Can you see how you’re chasing away our best customers? Will you shut up now?”
Terrence looked grief-stricken. “Brooklyn, are you leaving because of what I said?”
“Of course she is,” Eddie said.
“No, not at all,” I insisted, then grinned. “I spent too much time trying on hats, so I’ve got to get going.”
Eddie’s arms tightened across his chest. “Apologize, Terrence. Give her something.”
I started to laugh and waved him off. “Oh, stop. It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Terrence said. “He’s right. I’m a dolt. Here’s a book for you.”
I was still laughing as he handed me the number one bestseller on the market. It had taken me a while, but I’d finally figured out that the beautiful vintage books were Eddie’s domain while Terrence loved all the modern thrillers and mysteries. So this book had real meaning for Terrence apparently. Nevertheless, I handed the book back. “Don’t be silly, Terrence. I can’t take that.”
Terrence held up his hands and backed away, refusing to take the book.
“Keep it, Brooklyn,” Eddie said. “He’s admitting he screwed up, and I don’t want you to go away with that being forefront in your mind. So please. Keep the book.”
“But I really don’t think—”
“You’re doing us the favor, kiddo.”
“You are both crazy,” I said, shaking my head.
Eddie grinned. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“You’ll like that book,” Terrence said. “It’s got an awesome doomsday scenario.”
I chuckled, thinking maybe Derek would enjoy it. “I love you guys. I’ll see you in a day or two.”
Eddie brightened. “Hey, when are the in-laws coming?”
“Tomorrow,” I said, shoving the book under my arm. “And thank you for reminding me I’ve got to go buy a pie.”
“Mmm, pie,” Terrence said. “Enjoy.”
“See you later, Brooklyn,” Eddie said.
“Bye, guys.” I pushed the door open and walked out. That was kind of insane, I thought. But edifying, definitely. Had Terrence just admitted that Bonnie was the one who’d given him the rare Alice in Wonderland that was later stolen? Or was he talking more metaphorically, about their precious love being stolen? What “rare gift” was he talking about? I was dying to go back and ask, but I was pretty sure that was the last thing they would want to discuss.
Then I forgot all about Terrence and Eddie as the prospect of shopping for pie took over my brain.