The next morning, Wednesday, Alice left the Pemberley Inn to head for breakfast at the diner. She wasn’t hungover after the long night gabbing and drinking with Ona, but she did need a hearty breakfast to buck her up. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a fun evening out.
Coming out the gate by the statue of Old Mayor Townsend, she was dreaming of bacon, eggs, and crisp toast with melting butter on it, when she noticed a cluster of people down the street to the right. So, instead of turning left toward the diner, she headed down the sidewalk and crossed over the street to take a closer look.
In front of Blithedale Books, the tributes to Vince had grown. More flowers. A screwdriver with a paper heart plastered to its handle. Plus, a bonsai tree with beautiful white flowers and white ribbons tied around its minute branches.
A woman with platinum blonde hair and a fake, carroty tan was standing by the flowers, staring at the bonsai.
“It’s beautiful,” Alice said. “Did you—?”
“I did not,” the woman snapped, and Alice noticed that, around her neck, she wore a gold chain. A gold chain with three heart pendants.
Before Alice could get a closer look, the woman bent down, grabbed the bonsai, and lifted it off the ground. Walking away, she held it with the tips of her fingers, as if she’d picked up something dirty, a bag of dog poo or roadkill. Reaching the nearest public trash can, she dumped the bonsai and wiped off her hands.
Then she glared at Alice.
“You got a problem with that?”
Alice shook her head, shocked into silence.
“Good,” the woman said, dug out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one. Then she swiveled around and stormed off, leaving a trail of smoke in her wake.
For a moment, Alice stood still, not knowing what to make of the encounter.
“Typical,” a voice said behind her. She turned and saw Bunce frowning at the arrangement of flowers. “People think they can dump flowers anywhere they like.”
“Did you see that?” she asked him. “Did you see that woman?”
Bunce looked up and squinted at the woman in the distance.
“Mrs. Malone,” he said. “She could at least have had the decency to throw out the rest of the flowers while she was at it.”
But she didn’t. She only threw out a bonsai tree.
Alice gazed after the woman—Vince Malone’s widow—who was wearing a gold necklace with three heart pendants.
Alice decided she didn’t want eggs and toast, after all. This morning, she was going to eat pie for breakfast.