When, later that night at the Woodlander Bar, Alice told Ona about her encounter with the Oriels, Ona shook her head. “They’re an odd pair of ducks. But how could they be connected to Vince Malone?”
“Years ago, they spent their summers in Blithedale. They might have met Vince back then. But why would his ghost bother them?”
Ona said, “I love that you don’t judge them for believing in the ghost. Most people would.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Pemberley Inn has its ghosts. They don’t bother me.”
Alice recalled Mrs. Oriel’s comment that “if it had been any other ghost.” Ghosts didn’t seem to bother Mrs. Oriel, either. So what was it about Vince that bothered the Oriels so much?
Half of Blithedale crowded the Woodlander Bar tonight, with every table occupied. When Alice went inside the tiny house to get another round of drinks, she admired how Thor moved behind the small bar, pouring gin from a jigger into a glass, adding ice, then tonic, and topping it off with a sprig of rosemary. Then, without missing a beat, he turned to the next drink.
When she’d wriggled her way to the bar, she ordered two glasses of Chardonnay, feeling good about giving him an easier task.
“It’s hopping tonight,” she said. “I can’t believe how fast you can make those cocktails.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Thor said and popped the cork out of a wine bottle and poured two glasses.
“And with no one else in the bar to help you either,” Alice added.
He handed her the wines and winked at her. “Sorry, I’m not hiring.”
“Oh, no. I wasn’t implying…I’m not even looking…I mean—”
She walked away with her glasses of wine, feeling flustered.
Back at the table, she handed Ona her glass, and Ona gave her a questioning look.
“You all right?”
Alice sat down and sipped her wine. She told Ona about her interaction with Thor, and as she described it, she realized her innocent comment about him having no help maybe hadn’t been so innocent after all.
“Maybe I did kind of hope he’d ask if I would be interested in working here.”
“He’s a good-looking guy.”
Alice swatted Ona on the shoulder. “It’s not like that. I wasn’t thinking about Thor—I was thinking of a job. I was thinking of staying.”
“Staying in Blithedale?” Ona asked, and she leaned forward. “You should, you know? This is a great place.”
Alice nodded. She would’ve loved to have worked at Blithedale Books with the Oriels as the owners. And maybe, if their plan succeeded, she’d still have a chance of landing a job at the bookstore. Still, the idea of getting a job, finding a place to stay, starting a new life was too daunting to wrap her mind around. She hadn’t even figured out how to tie up loose ends with Rich.
She sighed. Oh, Rich. I know we’ll need to talk. Sooner or later.
She wished she could put off the conversation forever.
Ona reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She seemed to understand.
“I know it’s a lot right now. But think about it. You don’t need to make a decision now.”
“What do I know about bars, anyway?”
“Bookstores are your thing, aren’t they?”
Alice gave Ona a sharp look. It seemed Ona could read her thoughts. Alice shrugged. “What does it matter? There’s no bookstore job available…”
What if no bookstore job ever came her way? Could she find work at a place like this? She gazed around her at the Woodlander Bar, the tiny house Ona had built for Thor in its sylvan setting, the hurricane lights glowing at the edges of the clearing, the tables with candles, and all the people enjoying drinks.
She froze. Among the other patrons, she’d caught sight of Mrs. Oriel. Mr. Oriel joined her, placing two bottled beers on the table and sitting down. They must have arrived when Alice was inside getting drinks. She must have walked right past Mr. Oriel without seeing him by the bar.
The couple leaned close together. They were too far away—and the bar was too noisy—for Alice to listen in on their conversation, but from the way they sat close to each other, she guessed they were whispering. What was so important that they had to keep it secret?
Ona was right, the Oriels were a pair of odd ducks. But they were also somehow wrapped up in this bookstore business, and Alice had a gut feeling that there was more to it than met the eye.
They had been excited about buying Blithedale Books and then pulled out after Vince’s death. They would have known how run-down the store was. An accident shouldn’t have changed their minds. They didn’t even use it to pressure Bunce to drop the price. No, they wouldn’t touch the building after Vince died, because of their belief in ghosts.
“The Oriels,” Ona said. “What are they up to?”
“That’s just what I was wondering.”
They watched Mr. and Mrs. Oriel hunched together as if they were scheming.
Then their gestures became more animated, Mrs. Oriel’s in particular. Mr. Oriel put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. The gesture was tender. The look on his face was tender, too. And she reciprocated by putting a hand to his cheek.
Then they stood up and hurried toward the parking lot.
“Looks like they made some kind of decision,” Ona said.
Alice felt a tug toward the parking lot. More than anything, she wanted to follow the Oriels and find out what they were up to. “I wonder where they’re going,” she said.
Ona drained her glass. “Only one way to find out.”
Alice laughed. “You’re the best, Ona.”