The next morning, I woke early and decided to make Mart and me a stellar breakfast with my extra time. Fortunately, one of our silent agreements was that we always stocked the best breakfast food, so in no time, I had ground sausage on and had fired up the crepe maker Mart had splurged on a few weeks earlier. I figured I could do a savory crepe with eggs, sausage, and cheese. We’d have to eat it with a knife and fork instead of in a cone like the take-out crepe places did, but I figured it would still be delicious.
Soon, the kitchen was sizzling, and the smell was heavenly, especially when I brewed us a pot of coffee with vanilla and cinnamon, a trick I’d learned from Rocky. It didn’t take long for Mart to wander out and smile. “That smells amazing,” she whispered as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“You have about five minutes if you want to just relax.” Mart had done so much for me since we’d moved across country from San Francisco, and while I could never repay her for her kindness, I did try to show my appreciation in little ways. “I’ll bring you a cup of coffee. Are you taking cream or not these days?”
My best friend had recently discovered she was lactose intolerant, but sometimes, she used her magic pills and still indulged. “No cream today,” she said. “I’m saving my dairy for ice cream later.”
I smiled. “That’s my girl.”
We spent the next half-hour enjoying our breakfast and watching the birds scatter as Taco leaped at them in the backyard while Mayhem lay in yet another sunbeam. It was a perfectly quiet morning, and I was grateful for it, especially given the day we’d had yesterday.
Soon, though, it was time to meet Tuck at the library, and despite the fact that Mart knew Tuck would be there, she insisted on going. She played her desire off like she was just looking out for me, but I guessed there was some curiosity on her part, too. Besides Mart was almost as much of a book lover as I was, so any chance to be around books was hard to pass up for either of us.
When we parked by the library’s front door, Tuck and Mindy Washington were just unlocking things. I was a bit surprised to see Mindy, but given that she had the keys, it made sense she was there.
Greetings exchanged, Tuck explained to Mindy that we were looking for something and then said, “Maybe you’d like to catch up on email or something while we look? We can let you know what we find.” He phrased the suggestion like a question, but it wasn’t really one.
Mindy frowned and said, “You don’t want my help to look for, well, whatever it is you’re looking for.” She was fishing for information, and I couldn’t blame her. I was actually a little surprised that Tuck hadn’t explained our purpose.
Tuck shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to cast aspersions on you, Mindy. If you aren’t involved with anything about this case, I think it’s better. Just know we’re looking for a particular book.”
She nodded and gave Tuck a small smile. “Well, thanks. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” She turned, lifted the counter to go behind the desk, and slipped into the glass-fronted office behind.
As the three of us moved off into the stacks, I quietly said to Tuck, “She’s a suspect?” It was the only reason I could think of why Tuck would let Mart and me look for the book but not the librarian.
The sheriff gave me a small nod. “She is. Not a serious one, mind you. But still, I thought it better she not know exactly what we’re doing.”
Mart huffed. “You did tell her you’d share what we found.” She raised one eyebrow.
“I did, but that doesn’t mean I will tell her exactly.” He shook his head. “I do know what I’m doing, you know?” He tried to sound like he was teasing, but that edge was back in his voice.
“Of course you do,” Mart said quickly with a glance at me. “Of course. Now, how do we do this?”
Tuck showed Mart exactly what the book looked like, and I noticed he kept his body between Mindy’s office and the book, so he really was keen on not letting her know what we were seeking.
Then he gave us our marching orders. He went back to the nonfiction section to double-check the tables and shelves there, and he sent Mart to the fiction stacks and me to the children’s section. “We need to check everywhere.”
I made my way over to the colorful area beside the library’s back room and started to scan the picture book shelves. A trade paperback book would stand out amongst all the thin, tall books there, but I didn’t see it. A scan over the middle-grade shelves didn’t turn it up either, and when I carefully inspected the YA collection, it wasn’t there either. I did one more pass over all the shelves, but it wasn’t there.
Soon, I saw Mart headed back to where Tuck was still looking in nonfiction, and I joined them. “Nothing?” I said as the two of them looked up.
“Not a thing,” Mart said. “You?” She looked from me to Tuck.
Both of us shook our heads. Tuck said, “Mart will you help me scan here one more time, and Harvey, would you let Mindy know we’ll be ready to go in a minute?”
I nodded and headed toward the office, giving a look at the new release and best seller shelves as I went. Still nothing. I came at Mindy’s office from the side, so I guess she didn’t see me coming because when I went through the door, she squeaked and dropped something onto the floor.
I apologized for startling her and bent over to pick up what she’d dropped beside her desk. It was a copy of Stiff, and Mindy looked horrified that I’d seen it.
As I stepped to the door to call Tuck and Mart, I kept my eyes on Mindy. I didn’t know what was going on here, but it didn’t look good. Fortunately, Mindy didn’t move, and Tuck and Mart came quickly. “She had the book,” I said a little breathlessly as I held it out before me.
Tuck took the book from my hands and then turned to face Mindy. “What’s going on here?”
She shrunk back in her black desk chair. “I didn’t realize you all were looking for this title.” She let out a long breath. “But I did know you were looking for a book, and I should have told you about the ones in here.”
She looked at Tuck with a plea in her eyes. “This is where I say I was afraid it would make me look like I had something to do with Sidney’s death and then you say that hiding it made me look more guilty. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do.”
Tuck set the book down and put on gloves. “This may be useless at this point, but I still need to hold a pretense of decorum.” He flipped over the cover and read the inscription aloud: “To my Sweet Sugar and all her morbid curiosities.”
“Sweet Sugar?” Mart said. “Is that a girlfriend? A daughter? Boyfriend?”
“Where did you find this, Mindy?” Tuck said.
It wasn’t lost on me that he was going along with her story, but I’d known Tuck long enough to know that he would go along with a lot if he thought it might find the killer.
“In the book return, actually. I thought someone had just accidentally put one of the sale books into the slot, so when I tidied up yesterday, I slid it onto my desk so I could return it to the sale when we opened.” She raised her right hand. “I swear.”
I glanced down to see if she also had a Bible on her desk, but I only saw a plastic wrapped copy of The Bean Trees, and I didn’t think swearing on a book by Barbara Kingsolver made it any more likely she was telling the truth.
Tuck nodded but said, “It would have looked a lot less suspicious if you just told us you had the book when we first got here and heard we were looking for one.” He gave Mindy a stern stare.
She nodded. “I know.”
“Alright, well, we have it, at least we think we do, right?” He looked over at me. “This is the correct book?”
“It is. Do you have this book in the library collection?” I asked Mindy.
She shook her head. “That’s how I knew it had been put in the drop by mistake. I looked it up yesterday.”
“You didn’t want it for your collection? Don’t you scan the books people donate to see what the library can use?” Mart asked.
I almost answered this one for Mindy because I thought I knew what she’d say, but I was learning to talk less and listen more. So I did just that.
“Paperbacks don’t last long around here. Too much wear and tear,” she said simply.
Mart took a deep breath. “Makes sense,” she said as she looked at the human body with a toe tag on the front cover. “Feels a little too on-the-nose to have a book about cadavers be related to a murder doesn’t it?”
“I’m thinking that might not be a coincidence,” I said before I thought to stop myself.
Everyone looked at me, but only Tuck spoke. “Why is that?
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. The book is about what happens to human bodies after we die, like when they’re donated to science or body farms or whatever. But it’s been a while since I read it, so I can’t figure out what connection is teasing at the back of my brain.”
“If you figure it out . . .” Tuck asked
“You’ll be the first to know,” I said with a quick glance at my phone. “I better get going, unless you need me here, Tuck.”
“Nope, let’s all clear out. We have what we need,” Tuck said and let us all exit, including Mindy, before him. He stood nearby while she locked the office door and then as she locked the front doors behind us again.
“I won’t leave town,” Mindy said very seriously.
Tuck had his back to her, but I could see a small smile play at the corners of his mouth before he said, “Good. Stay close. We may need to bring you in.”
Mindy’s shoulders dropped and she headed off to her car as Mart and I turned toward mine. We had just started pulling out when Tuck came to my window. “Thanks for coming out, ladies.”
“Anytime, Tuck,” Mart said as she leaned over me.
“Yep, anytime. You don’t think Mindy did this, do you?” I knew he’d say that he didn’t rule out anyone at this point, but I was hoping he found her to be as sincere as I had.
“I doubt it, but you know that I don’t rule—”
“Good,” Mart said. “Now, go home and relax. You could use it.”
Tuck frowned just a little but then waved as we drove away.
“He looks exhausted,” Mart said as I turned onto the side street and headed toward the bookstore. “This case that draining you think?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s the election, but he does seem to be more on edge than usual.” I made a note to ask Lu if I could do anything to help. Maybe there was a way we could support Tuck and lift a little of his burden.
I was only a few minutes later than usual in opening the bookshop, but Rocky already had the coffee brewing and the chairs off the tables. It smelled amazing inside.
With a quick wave and a smile in her direction, I got about my opening chores of turning on lights, unlocking the register, and doing a quick pass to straighten the shelves. This last task was always an exercise in ritual rather than necessity on the days I opened after Marcus closed because he always shelved every book before he left for the night. That was no small feat on a Saturday evening when browsers were plentiful. Still, I liked the routine of walking the shelves and visiting all the books before the customers came in.
With everything ready and Rocky set with a fresh, warm stash of her mother’s cinnamon rolls, I opened the doors to find, to my delight, a young couple with an infant waiting to come in. They were friendly and pleasant, but they looked haggard. It was a look I recognized from many of my friends who’d had children over the years – sleep deprivation. While they walked quietly through the store as the baby slept, I asked Rocky for two lattes, one regular and one decaf, in case the baby was nursing, and two of those cinnamon rolls. Then, I met the couple near the fiction shelves, pointed to two armchairs and a footstool and put the drinks and rolls between them. “Sit. Rest. Enjoy. My treat. This one’s decaf just in case,” I whispered.
I saw tears well up in the eyes of the woman carrying the baby, and her partner smiled at me and said a quiet thank you after clearing her throat. I left them to have a still moment out in public while the baby slept on.
This kind of thing was one of the perks of owning my own business – I could give away whatever I wanted and only had to answer to me. Of course, in this case, I would pay Rocky for what I gave away because she was now the majority owner of the bookstore café, having decided to stay on for a while after graduation while she made some choices about her next career steps.
Sunday mornings were always quiet in the shop since a lot of people around here went to church, but I loved this morning most because there was an air of stillness that permeated the space. It reminded me of the years just after I graduated from college when I spent Sunday mornings on the floor of my apartment with the newspaper. I’d read and sip coffee and listen to the sounds of the city waking up around me.
Today, I helped a young man with an amazing mohawk find a book about World War II for his great-grandfather, and then a teenage girl in a long skirt came in and asked me to point her toward the sci-fi section. I walked over with her, shy as she was, and told her that Ender’s Game was one of my favorite titles. When she saw there were four more books, she decided they would be her reading project for her English class. “My teacher is really cool. He wants us to find something we love and study it.”
“Oh, he does sound amazing. Do you go to school here in St. Marin’s?” I asked.
“Yep, his name is Mr. Evans. I’m going to suggest he come here.” She met my eyes for the first time. “Is that okay?”
“Please do.” I walked with her to the register and rang her up with the promise of a ten percent discount for anyone in Mr. Evans’ class who mentioned him to me. She left smiling, and I grinned as I went to check on the young moms. They’d both fallen asleep, and the baby was still snoozing. If I’d had lap blankets, I would have covered them all up.
With everything quiet in the shop, I wandered the shelves again, considering what our next window display might be. I needed to do a summer reading collection of some sort, but the beach reads theme was a little tired, especially since we lived on the water. I thought about doing another local history display, but I’d done that before and decided we’d put that on a table instead. We needed something more catchy for the front window.
I stared out through the plate glass and tried to ignore the copious amounts of dog hair I needed to vacuum out of Mayhem and Taco’s beds and looked at the trees that lined the street outside. That’s when it came to me – I was going to do a tree display and ask Cate to make me a tree on which to set the books. She was always thrilled to do something “crafty,” as she called it, and it would be a fun way for us to spend some time together.
As I headed back to the register to grab my phone and text her, I picked up a couple of titles including Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer and The Overstory by Richard Powers. Wall’s book wasn’t strictly about trees, but it was a beautiful ode to the richness of nature and plants, and Powers books was one of the most amazing novels I’d ever read. I figured I could find some coffee table books that featured specimen trees, and I had a couple of field guides to trees, too. I was starting to get excited.
Cate readily agreed to help me out and suggested she had some time that afternoon if that might work. When she said she’d bring the supplies, I jumped on the chance. I wasn’t someone with patience when it came to creativity. I wanted to do all the things at once, so this afternoon sounded perfect.
Besides, I kind of wanted to talk with Cate about Tuck. All morning, I’d been worried about him. He was a serious police officer, a good one who didn’t make light of his job, but he was also a prankster and a kind of light-hearted guy. I hadn’t seen any of that lightness in a while.
Since I had my phone out, I took the chance to message Lu and ask if she could stop by today.
“I just set up by the Baptist church. I have a few minutes before the rush begins. On my way.” Her reply was quick, and once again, I admired her business acumen. The after-church flow of people was a very smart spot to put her food truck since that group often went out for a meal after services. I knew that Max’s restaurant was always packed, and the Italian place at the edge of town, too. Even we got a pretty good run of folks who were looking for pastries for picnics or brunches when the services started ending.
I had just finished ringing up the purchases of the young moms with the infant – they’d bought a copy of Anne Lamott’s Operating Instructions at my suggestion since it was a quite funny but honest look at motherhood – and accepting their gratitude for a place to rest and the snack when Lu came in.
She was dressed in her usual of scrubs and a brightly printed top, and today, her dark-brown hair was plaited into a strand that ran around her head. When she saw me at the counter, she smiled and jogged over. “Hola, Harvey.”
“Hola, Lu. I won’t keep you,” I took her arm and turned us both away from the main store floor, “but I’m worried about Tuck. Is he okay?”
A shadow passed over Lu’s face. “No.”
I waited for her to say more, but when she didn’t, I asked, “Is there anything I can do to help? Something he needs for the election maybe?”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, and her jaw relaxed a little. “You are a savvy one, Harvey Beckett.”
I rolled my eyes. “So it’s getting worse.”
This time, she nodded. “It happens every time. As soon as election year starts, these perdedores show up with threats and promises about how they’re going to get a police officer instead of a criminal into office. It gets worse every day until the election is done.”
“What in the world?!” I took a deep breath. “Can we address these idiots? Give them a piece of our minds.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m afraid not. If we call these people out, Tucker looks defensive.”
“And that just gives them fuel, right?” These people were despicable.
“Right. We just need to support him and help his campaign. Maybe you could put a sign for him in your window.”
“Done.” It felt like a tiny thing in the face of such hatred, but if it would help, even just to boost Tuck’s morale, I’d hang twenty of them.
“You don’t feel awkward about that?” Lu drew her eyebrows together. “A lot of the businesses don’t like to take sides.”
I rolled my eyes. “I run this business. I own this building. I can do whatever I want, and I, Harvey Beckett, owner of All Booked Up, endorse Tucker Mason for sheriff of St. Marin’s.” I even put my hand over my heart for emphasis.
The light came back into Lu’s eyes. “I have some signs in the truck. If you get a minute, come get one?”
“Of course.” I looked down at my phone. “You better go, though? Church is getting out.”
Lu grinned and sprinted out the door and down the street. As I watched her run, I wondered what else I could do to support Tuck’s campaign, and I felt ideas for an event start to spin in my head.
Soon, though, the after-church crowd descended in full force, and I was so busy recommending books and ringing up sales that I could only wave when Mart dropped off Taco and Mayhem on her way to an event at the winery.
By late afternoon, I was beat. Cate and I had gotten the tree display made and up, and it looked amazing. But we’d been busy all day, and I’d had to move back and forth between helping customers and helping Cate.
Now, though, the rush of customers had thinned, and I had a chance to sit back, prop my feet on the counter, and sip the decaf vanilla latte that Rocky had brought me. She’d sold out of cinnamon rolls early on, so I was glad she’d added to her baked goods in the past few weeks. Her pastry case was almost empty now, and I hoped that meant she’d had a good day financially. She deserved it.
I was just about to go over and pay Rocky for the lattes and cinnamon rolls I’d taken earlier in the day when Mindy Washington came in. As a true book lover, Mindy often shopped in my store despite having access to pretty much any book in the world through the library. “Some books you just need to own, you know?” she’d told me once, and I’d agreed.
Today, though, I suspected she wanted something more than the latest N.K. Jemisin book for her collection. “Hi Mindy. How are you?” I genuinely wanted to know because Mindy was a friend. But I also felt a little suspicious that she’d come in to my store a day after she’d been hiding evidence.
As soon as she saw me, she headed right over, and I took that as a good sign. At least she wasn’t playing games or trying to act all sly or something.
“I’ve been better, Harvey, to be honest.” She shrugged and refused to meet my eyes.
I noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the kerchief around her usually perfectly-styled hair. “Yeah, I can imagine. Want to talk about it?” I looked around the shop, saw that everyone looked content for a minute, and pointed to the nearest café table.
“I’d like that. It’s why I came in.” She followed me to the table and dropped into the chair. “I needed to talk about what happened with someone, but . . .”
“But you couldn’t because it’s an active police investigation.” I hoped that was the reason rather than that she didn’t want to implicate herself.
“Exactly. I’ve already made Tuck’s job hard enough. I didn’t want to make things worse, especially with the election.” She tugged her indigo kerchief down her forehead a bit.
“You’ve heard the talk?”
She sighed. “Of course. It’s no surprise, but you’d think after serving three terms that people would just get it and back off.” She squeezed her hands so tightly that they went from dark brown to near-white. “I feel just terrible about what happened yesterday.”
She looked so forlorn that I couldn’t help but reach over and put my hand on hers. “Want to tell me about it from the beginning?”
A long slow breath escaped her lips, and she smiled. “I would. Do you have time?”
I glanced around and caught Rocky’s eye. She nodded and moved closer to the register in the bookshop. She was fully trained on my side of things, too, and since her café was empty, I knew she’d help out with sales for me if needed. I, again, felt deep gratitude for my amazing friends. “We’ve got a few minutes,” I said, “and I’d like to understand.”
Mindy nodded. “Like I said, I found the book in the drop on Friday. It was just in amidst all the other books, but I noticed it right away because it didn’t have a label.”
I thought of the couple of times I’d seen books from the library on my shelves, left there by people with fines, I expected, who wanted to return the book but felt embarrassed. I’d always spotted the books right away because of the white library label on the bottom of the spine.
“I had really just put it on my desk to deal with when we reopened, but when you all said you were looking for a book,” she paused and took a deep breath, “I thought it might be the one you needed. I was going to turn it over, but first, I wanted to be sure it didn’t implicate Sidney in something awful.” I heard the catch in her throat and tightened my grip on her hands.
“You didn’t think he’d be doing something unseemly, did you?” I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I wanted to encourage Mindy forward into whatever she wanted to tell me.
“No, I didn’t. Sidney was an odd guy, but also one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. If he was mixed up in something, it was because he was trying to help.” She sighed. “He wasn’t always the smartest when it came to judging character.”
I’d often been accused of the same thing, so I got it. And her description of Sidney meshed with what I knew of the man.
“My mama would say he had the ‘innocent as doves’ part down, but needed to work on being ‘wise as serpents.’” Mindy smiled again as she looked up at me. “It’s a verse from the Bible about how to be a discerning person in the world.”
I nodded. I liked that and wondered if Mindy’s mama would say the same thing about me. “So you think it’s possible he got involved with whatever happened because he was trying to help someone out?”
Mindy nodded. “I’m thinking he was trying to find that book for someone because they asked him to, and whatever was in there . . .”
It wasn’t my place to tell Mindy about the note we’d found, but I did think it would be okay if I told her that Mart and I had come to the same conclusion. When I did, she sighed, and I saw her shoulders drop just a little in relief.
Still, I would be remiss if I didn’t see what else Mindy might know about the book or the note. I just had to be careful how I asked. “Any idea who Sweet Sugar might be?”
Mindy raised her eyebrows and looked at me. “It’s not exactly the kind of name people use when checking out library books.” She smiled.
“Good point. It feels very personal though, doesn’t it?” I kept thinking it felt paternal, like a name for a daughter, but I wasn’t sure.
“It does. But what were the ‘morbid curiosities’ the note mentioned?” She sighed. “I mean besides the book’s content itself.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” I said. In my years on this earth, I’d met a lot of truly lovely people who had appreciation for things that absolutely creeped me out. One guy I knew was so fascinated with the Church Of Scientology and debunking them as a legitimate religion that he ran a social media-based Scientology month every April. I learned a lot from him, and he was a good friend. But I wasn’t interested in going that deep into L. Ron Hubbard’s life. “Maybe she was fascinated by death?”
Mindy shrugged. “Maybe.” She stood up and stretched. “Thank you, Harvey. I feel better, which is selfish I know.”
“Nope, not selfish. Believe me, I’ve been the focus on an investigation myself, and it’s a heavy thing. Come talk anytime.” I walked her to the door. “When can you reopen?”
“Tuck gave me the go-ahead for tomorrow, so we’ll see how that goes.” She opened the door to the street. “I figure it’ll be either empty or slammed.”
“Plan for slammed. St. Mariner’s themselves have a pretty big fascination with death.” I knew that morbid curiosity all too well.