“Wait, what?”
Alice turned to Kris and Bunce for help, but both were frowning, staring up at Darrell Townsend.
“How can a bookstore be a killer?”
Todd Townsend shushed her. Alice looked around and saw, to her surprise, that Darrell had a rapt audience. Becca perched on the seat that Chief Jimbo had recently vacated. Up at the counter, two men in matching caps and vests and lumberjack shirts had turned their stools to face Darrell, one whispering to the other, who nodded. At a nearby table, a father nudged one of his kids, chiding him for not listening. A trio of white-haired women in a booth, a game of cards laid out on the formica tabletop, had paused their activity, and one of them was filming Darrell’s speech with her smartphone.
“Today, I attended the fifth annual Pantheon of World Real Estate & Development, one of the industry’s most prestigious events,” Darrell said. “The organizers saw fit to award me, Darrell Townsend, a prize for the most visionary small-town real estate development plan. But awards and prizes and other such accolades mean little to me.” He swept a hand through the air, dismissing them all. “I have a wall full of them. In fact, at first I turned down their invitation. Why waste half a workday on a prize ceremony? Why add another trophy to my wall? But then I realized that this wasn’t for me. It was for Blithedale. And this town deserves all the awards it gets.”
Todd Townsend put his pencil behind his ear and his notepad under his arm and applauded, glaring at everyone, urging them to join in.
“Thank you, friends,” Darrell said. “So that’s why I went to the city. I went because we live in what’s probably the best town in America.”
More applause, led by Todd.
Darrell held up a hand to stop the clapping. “Hold your horses. Did you catch that? I said probably. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live in what’s probably or perhaps or even likely the best. Who wants to wake up in the morning in what’s probably the best town? Not me. Heck, I’ll settle for nothing less than hands down the best. Numero uno. And I know that’s how you feel, too. ”
He looked around, nodding, his face serious.
“But folks, we’ve got problems in this town. Setbacks that bring us down to probably and perhaps, and if nothing’s done, Blithedale will fall farther down the ranking. I’m talking about places like Blithedale Books. When was the last time any of you set foot in that place?”
Most people shrugged or shook their heads.
“Well, I’ve taken a look around, and let me tell you, it ain’t pretty. That place is falling apart. I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, Blithedale Books is a safety concern and ought to be shut down. I warned everyone. So did Todd here. You read the articles in The Blithedale Record, and you probably thought we were exaggerating. Now a man’s dead.”
He lowered his head, acknowledging the tragic event.
But not for long. He jerked his attention back up to his audience, gazing intently at the people scattered across the diner.
He said, “It’s not my job to decide what happens to that death trap. I leave that to Mayor MacDonald and Chief Jimbo. But I’m happy to recommend an independent building inspector to take a close look at the structure, and make sure no other tragic deaths happen.”
He ended with a smile and a wave, and his hand stayed suspended in the air just long enough for his brother to circle him and snap several photos with his phone. Then he turned around and gestured at Chief Jimbo, who was standing at the far end of the diner counter, and the young chief of police stiffened.
“Jimbo.” Darrell walked over and put an arm around Chief Jimbo’s shoulders. “Let’s talk.”