Ink and Shadows

The next day, Nora’s whole body ached from lack of sleep. But after ibuprofen, coffee, and a long shower, she felt almost human. She dressed in her favorite jeans and a rust-colored blouse, spending more time than usual on her hair and makeup. Crowds of festivalgoers would be visiting Miracle Books today, and Nora was determined to make a good impression.

As she dabbed concealer under her eyes, she wondered how Celeste was doing. Was she at home? Was the social worker watching over her? Had she been questioned again?

There wasn’t much more for Fuentes to do until the ME submitted his report, and Sheriff McCabe would be back before then. The thought comforted Nora. Deputy Fuentes was a good man, but he’d been working extra shifts to cover for McCabe, and he needed some time off. The sheriff would look into Bren’s death with tact and sensitivity. And if Nora knew him as well as she thought, he wouldn’t be too happy about the Women of Lasting Values.

What will they do next? Paint a devil on Bren’s gravestone?

The possibility of those self-righteous women adding to Celeste’s grief reignited Nora’s anger. If they got wind of Bren’s drug use, they’d triumphantly shout, “We told you CBD was a gateway drug” to anyone who’d listen. But to what end? To drive a grieving mother out of town?

Nora pulled on a barn coat and went out to the deck. She gazed at the hill where a million dewdrops clung to a million blades of grass. They shimmered in the sunlight like clear crystals. Like the jewelry Bren made.

A breeze drifted through the grass, and the dewdrops danced and sparkled. In that moment, Nora felt like Bren was there. But when a cloud slid in front of the sun, the feeling disappeared.

A train whistled from somewhere down the line. Its hopeful, haunted note made Nora wish that Jed wasn’t so far away. She took out her phone and called him.

“Hey, stranger. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” Jed’s voice was leaden. “Mom’s in the hospital. She has an infection. Nora, it’s in her lungs.”

Having spent months in a burn unit, Nora knew that patients with internal injuries were more prone to infection. It wasn’t something that went away after they left the burn unit either. Many survivors were plagued by a weakened immune system for the rest of their lives.

Though Jed’s mom had been hospitalized several times since the fire, he’d always been around to take care of her. This time, she’d been admitted to the hospital by someone else because Jed was six hours away in Miracle Springs.

“I’m so sorry,” Nora said. “I wish I could reach through the phone and hug you.”

“Me too,” Jed said. There was a pause, and when he spoke next, his tone was frosty. “Just so you know. I’m not leaving until she’s okay. Like she’s back home and feeling one hundred percent okay.”

Jed wanted to pick a fight. Nora knew that he wasn’t mad at her, but at himself. After all this time, he was still filled with self-loathing for starting the fire that had injured his mother. Nora had given him a list of books to help him heal, but he’d refused to read it. He repeatedly told her that he didn’t need bibliotherapy or any other kind of therapy. He just needed to work as hard as he could so that his mother received the best possible care.

“You’re a good son, Jed.” Nora tried to infuse every word with tenderness and warmth. “Your mom will probably recover twice as fast because you’re there. Can I do anything for you while you’re away? Check on your house? Stop by your neighbor’s and see how Henry Higgins is doing?”

Jed exhaled into the phone. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m too distracted to think right now. I know there’s a big festival today, and you’ll be crazy busy, so go sell a billion books. My mom’s nurse is heading this way. I’ve gotta go.”

Nora opened her mouth to tell Jed to take care, but he was already gone.

“Sell a billion books,” Nora repeated. After last night, there was nothing she’d rather do.

* * *

She entered Miracle Books to find that Sheldon had already brewed coffee, arranged the book pockets, and straightened the shelves. He was cleaning the reading chairs with the hand vac when she tapped him on the elbow.

“Any signs of vandalism?” she asked when he put down the vacuum.

Ignoring her question, Sheldon enfolded her in his arms. “I won’t ask why you’re here when you could have slept in because I already know the answer. You needed to be among friends. Jane Austen, JRR Tolkien, and Sheldon Silverstein Vega.”

Sheldon’s bear hugs were magical. When Nora laid her cheek on his shoulder, she smelled peppermint and wool. With Sheldon’s arms around her, she felt safe. For someone who’d never been much of a hugger, Nora would accept one from Sheldon any day of the week.

When he released her, he wasn’t smiling. “Before you believe that your troubles went away just because I squeezed you like Charmin, you’d better take a look in the stockroom.”

The devils! Nora pictured Celeste’s statue and Marie’s sign as she hurried to the stockroom. When she saw a pumpkin sitting on the mailing counter, she moaned in relief.

Whoever transformed the pumpkin into a devil hadn’t put much effort into it. They’d used black marker to draw a malicious face and pointy beard on the gourd’s surface. After poking a pair of devil horns on either side of the pumpkin’s stem, they’d left it for Nora to find.

“Where was it?” she asked Sheldon.

“In the front planter. The marigolds are totally flattened.”

Nora studied the pumpkin. “I can use this.”

“You’re going to put it back out there?”

Nora grabbed a can of black spray paint from the supply shelf. “After I make some improvements.”

All the parking spots on Main Street were taken by the time Nora put the last of the food-themed paperbacks on the sidewalk table. The table wouldn’t be staffed, but Nora found that the presence of other people tended to discourage shoplifters. She also expected shoppers to stream in and out of Miracle Books all day long, so she decided to use the planter to prop the front door open. No one entering the bookstore could miss her newly improved pumpkin.

After covering the pumpkin with two coats of black spray paint, Nora had written a quote across the glossy surface with a white paint pen.

When she carried the finished product to Sheldon, he put on his glasses and read the text out loud, “‘You don’t need a silver fork to eat good food.’ ” He looked at Nora. “Who said that?”

“Chef Paul Prudhomme. He’s the jolly bearded guy on the Magic Seasoning labels. We have some of his cookbooks on the display table. Louisiana Kitchen is a classic. I thought it was a good quote for a farm-to-table celebration.”

Apparently, her customers agreed. Most people smiled after reading the quote and many took photos of the pumpkin.

A woman wearing a T-shirt that said I LIKE MY COWS AND MAYBE 3 PEOPLE asked Nora if she could leave a stack of paperbacks at the checkout counter.

“I want to get more from that sidewalk,” she said. “My town doesn’t have a bookstore or a library, so this is my chance to stock up. Cool pumpkin, by the way.”

Nora pulled Louisiana Kitchen from the table and slid it into an acrylic stand by the cash register where everyone could see it. She touched its cover with the tenderness of a mother caressing her child’s cheek.

Once again, a book had come to Nora’s rescue. The person who’d made the devil pumpkin had wanted to insult or scare her. However, thanks to a short but charming quote by a chef and cookbook author, the pumpkin that was meant to hurt her was generating sales and social media posts. It was setting a positive tone for everyone entering the shop. Nora wasn’t hurt or scared. She was delighted.

Books had saved her the last time she’d been scared too. After someone had thrown a brick through her front window, Sheldon had come up with the brilliant idea to turn the shattered window into a banned books display.

That display became the talk of the town, and readers tagged Miracle Books in social media posts for weeks. Not only had the shop’s sales soared, but people across the state also started having conversations about banned books.

Today, everyone was talking about food. Growing it, harvesting it, selling it, preparing it, and eating it. Aromas from the street vendors drifted into the shop, and when a man walked in carrying a basket of Fuji apples, Nora’s stomach grumbled. She was thrilled by the line of customers waiting to be checked out, but it didn’t look like she’d be able to grab lunch anytime soon.

She’d just given a customer his receipt for a pile of books on baking bread, brewing beer, and canning fruits and vegetables when Estella breezed into the bookshop. In her calico dress, cowboy boots, and straw hat, she looked like the cover model for a romance novel about a farmer’s wife.

Though most of the customers in line openly admired her, Estella didn’t flash a single coy smile. She’d exchanged her coquettish behavior for the respect and patronage of the local women. Without their support, Estella’s business couldn’t survive.

Besides, she didn’t need to flirt anymore. She was in love with Jack Nakamura. And love looked good on Estella. She was as radiant as a new bride.

“I brought lunch,” she said, sashaying behind the checkout counter with a reusable shopping bag in hand.

After thanking her customer, Nora turned and beamed at Estella. “You’re an angel.”

Estella cackled. “Puh-lease. A halo would limit my hairstyles. Anyway, I have ninety minutes until my next appointment, so sit down and eat. You can tell me how to use the register in between bites. It’s a food festival, after all.”

“What about Sheldon?” Nora asked after greeting the next customer in line. She used the price gun to scan the barcode on the back of each book while Estella watched with interest.

“Hester’s taking care of Sheldon. She slipped in while you were making change for that hottie in the cowboy hat.”

Estella observed two more transactions before declaring that she was ready to take over.

Nora never ate in front of her customers, but she decided to break her own rule just this once. The shopping bag held a bottle of iced tea, a sandwich, and a container of fruit salad. The salad was a refreshing blend of apples, pears, grapes, and pecans tossed in a light yogurt dressing. The sandwich was a grilled ham and Brie on honey wheat.

“This looks incredible,” said Nora.

“It’s all from the same vendor. He uses food from local farms, and his wife’s the bread maker. If she and Hester hadn’t started talking about sourdough, we’d have been here sooner.”

Nora cleaned her hands with a wet wipe and bit into her sandwich. It was warm and delicious, and the caramelized onions and apple spread perfectly balanced the saltiness of the ham and cheese. She polished off both halves in the time it took Estella to complete five transactions.

Nora had just loaded her fork with fruit salad when the woman at the front of the line asked, “Do you ladies know why Soothe is closed? A couple from my hotel said that I could get CBD products there. My dad’s arthritis has gotten really bad, and I’d do anything to help him.”

Nora slid off her stool and leaned over the counter, encouraging the woman to lean over too.

“The owner just lost a family member, and I don’t expect her to reopen anytime soon,” Nora whispered. “And I’m not trying to talk you into buying more from me, but Sheldon, the handsome man in the back making the world’s best coffee, is a bit of an expert on arthritis. On chronic pain, in general. He might be able to give you a few ideas.”

The woman left her books at the counter and stepped out of line. Nora led her to the ticket agent’s office, and within minutes, she and Sheldon were sitting in the readers’ circle, lost in conversation. Nora took Sheldon’s place behind the espresso machine and told Hester to stop washing mugs.

“You already worked at the bakery this morning. You don’t need to work here too.”

Hester dried her hands on a dishrag. “I want to help. I’m worried about you. After everything that happened last night.” She shook her head, took a deep breath, and went on. “As if that wasn’t bad enough, Sheldon told me about the pumpkin. I thought those wolves were going to leave you alone. Guess I was wrong.”

Nora pulled a face. “I hope it’s the last message they send. When the news about Bren breaks, people should think twice about hounding their neighbors. Especially a neighbor who just lost her daughter.”

“That’s what decent people would do, yeah. But if Celeste reopens the store, she might still be a target. These women might focus on the CBD products and ignore the grieving mom bit.”

They stopped talking for a few minutes while Nora made a Jack London and Hester heated up two chocolate book pockets.

“Where’s Celeste? Do you know?” Nora asked when they were alone again.

“In her apartment. The social worker is with her. Nora, she really has no one. No family. No close friends. We’re lucky, you know?” Another head shake. “Jasper said that she was given a sedative last night and managed to get a little sleep. This morning, he stopped by to check on her. She was kind of groggy, but she grabbed his hand and whispered that they should have gotten out of the community sooner. Jasper tried to figure out what she meant by that, but he couldn’t get a clear answer.”

For some reason, Celeste’s confused mumbling bothered Nora, but she didn’t know why. She’d never heard Bren or Celeste mention a community before.

“How can we help her?” Hester asked.

As another customer approached the chalkboard menu and studied the choices, Nora realized that it was time to relieve Estella.

“We’ll make a plan tonight. We’ll talk about Celeste first, and if we don’t discuss the book, then we don’t. The book won’t mind. Books never leave us. They always wait. They’re as loyal as a dog. As patient as a grandparent.”

Hester smiled. “You get all starry-eyed whenever you talk about books. Do I look like that when I talk about scones?”

“You don’t get stars in your eyes, my beauty, you get entire galaxies,” said Sheldon as he walked into the ticket agent’s booth. “I love you both, but you need to leave. My personal space is a deluxe suite, and I’m checking in.”

With Hester in tow, Nora walked to the front and thanked Estella for the help and the delicious lunch. Then, she took her place behind the counter.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of recommending and bagging books, wrapping shelf enhancers, rearranging displays, and replenishing stock.

By closing time, the shop was a total mess. There were big holes on almost every shelf. Everywhere Nora looked, books leaned on other books. They reminded her of small children resting their weary heads against a parent’s leg.

As much as Nora loved a festival crowd, she didn’t love the debris they left behind. She’d been in business for years, but she still got annoyed to find wads of gum, balled receipts, hair ties, candy wrappers, apple cores, dirty tissues, water bottles, straws, toothpicks, potato chips, Cheerios, pens, pencils, napkins, and coins—mostly pennies—all over the shop.

Nora couldn’t remember the last time the floor had been covered in so many different shades of dirt, and the trash cans were overflowing.

“Dios mío!” Sheldon cried from the children’s corner. “These Clifford books are sticky and blue.”

“It’s probably cotton candy.”

Sheldon groaned. “Cleaning sugar-and-germ-infested toddler residue is not in my job description. This sailor’s abandoning ship.”

“Go ahead. I’ll deal with Clifford after I detach a candy apple from the rug.” Nora sat back on her heels and smiled at Sheldon. “You were incredible today. As always. But you must be exhausted. Do you want to take Monday off?”

Sheldon looked horrified. “No way. We have to prep for the next round of festivals. I’ll rest tomorrow. You hit the garage sales. All the autumnal pieces you bought last week are gone, so do your book club thing and then go to bed early. You need to take care of yourself.”

After pinching Nora’s cheek like his Jewish grandmother used to pinch his, Sheldon left.

Nora freed the candy apple, wiped off the Clifford books, emptied the trash, and vacuumed the floors. At home, she took a quick shower and changed her clothes. Her hair was still damp when she pulled on her coat. For the first time ever, her sofa seemed more appealing than a Secret, Book, and Scone Society meeting. Nora loved her friends. She loved books. And she loved food. But she was really tired.

What about Celeste? She’s all alone.

With this thought in mind, Nora hurried back to the shop.

June was waiting next to the delivery door, a cardboard box in her arms.

“What’s in the baking dish?” Nora’s stomach gurgled in anticipation.

“Chicken and wild rice casserole. Estella made spinach salad and Hester’s bringing leftovers from the store.”

Nora frowned. “I supply the paper goods and drinks while the rest of you bring food. It doesn’t seem right.”

“Honey, you need to make like Elsa in Frozen and let it go. I have more time to cook than you do. And I enjoy cooking.” June carried the box into the ticket agent’s booth. “After last night, it felt good to do something productive today. I made this casserole for us, but I also made things for Celeste. Stuff to fill up her freezer. Comfort food.”

Nora took a bottle of white wine out of the fridge. “She won’t be ready for comfort books yet, but she’ll need company. Not the sit around, drink tea, and murmur condolences kind of company. She’ll need us to help her at Soothe. I just don’t know how we’ll manage it.”

“Women come out of the womb knowing how to multitask,” Estella said from the doorway.

“What are you guys talking about?” Hester called. “I just got here.”

The four friends decided to put all talk of Celeste on hold until they’d filled their plates with June’s casserole and Estella’s salad. Hester’s bakery box contained a hodgepodge of desserts including an apple cinnamon blondie, pecan pie brownie, pumpkin bread, apple strudel, and several ginger cookies.

“I’ll let my supper settle before I dive into that box,” said June after they sat down. “But I want you all to know that the pecan pie brownie is mine.”

“The cook should always get the first pick when it comes to dessert.” Nora pointed at her plate with her fork. “This casserole is so good. What else did you make for Celeste?”

June rattled off a list of dishes that included mac and cheese, sausage lasagna, chicken potpie, and meatloaf. She and Hester were trying to convince Estella that meatloaf glazes were better than ketchup when Nora heard someone knock on the back door.

Since no one else had noticed, she slipped away from the readers’ circle, walked to the back, and cracked the steel door. She was stunned to see Celeste standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” she asked. Her voice was as faint as a breath of wind.

“Of course.”

Nora opened the door wide and waved Celeste inside.

“My book club is just finishing dinner. Will you join us? It’s a very small group, and I think you know everyone,” she added, guessing that Celeste wouldn’t want to socialize. “It’s just Hester, June, and Estella.”

When Celeste hesitated, Nora said, “We can talk right here too. Whatever is more comfortable for you.”

Celeste glanced around Nora, looking down the dim hallway as if she could see the source of the female voices.

“Come on. There’s a soft chair and a glass of wine waiting for you,” Nora said.

When Celeste nodded, Nora slipped an arm around the other woman’s tiny waist and guided her to the readers’ circle.

June, Estella, and Hester were laughing about something when Nora reappeared. Seeing Celeste, the laughter instantly died.

“Hey, lady. Come try the best seat in the house. I’ve warmed it up for you.” June waved at her favorite purple chair.

Nora fetched an extra wineglass from the ticket agent’s office. “This isn’t exactly a fine vintage,” she told Celeste as she poured. “It’s the kind of wine that grows on you. After two or three glasses, it’s almost good.”

Nora was drinking sparkling water, but she would have gladly gulped down a glass of cheap red wine at that moment. She wasn’t like June. Situations like this made her uncomfortable, and she knew that alcohol would take the edge off.

If Celeste can survive losing her daughter, then you can survive a little awkwardness.

Celeste accepted the glass and stared at the crimson liquid as if hypnotized. Finally, she took a sip. The wine stained her pale lips, and Nora wished that she’d given her the white instead.

After a second sip, Celeste looked at Nora. “I need a favor, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Anything. Just ask,” Nora said.

“Could you drive me to Bren’s house? We only had one car, and she’s been driving it. I don’t even know where it’s parked.” She sagged as if this short speech had exhausted her.

Nora was confused. Didn’t Bren live in the apartment above the store? As she thought back on the day she’d stopped by Soothe to deliver her good luck gifts, she remembered that Celeste had been waiting for Bren to arrive with the muffins. Bren hadn’t been arriving from upstairs. She’d been driving to the store from another place. Her house, apparently.

Nora shot June a questioning look, and she responded with a definitive nod.

“We can go in my car,” June told Celeste. “Would you like to sit for a spell or head out now?”

Celeste made her wishes clear by putting down her wineglass and getting to her feet. The rest of the women followed suit, and soon, they were all loaded into June’s Bronco.

“The house is on Hummingbird Lane,” Celeste said from the passenger seat. “Way back in the woods.”

June had to do some creative maneuvering to get around the festival traffic. Though most of the events were over, the country music band had drawn a big crowd. The music fans had claimed most of the parking spots, which had all the other drivers circling like vultures, desperate to find a place to park before they missed their dinner reservations.

June lowered her window, and the music from the park filled the silence inside the Bronco’s cabin. Even after she’d cleared the town limits, June kept the window open. The night air whisked in, carrying the scents of pine trees and wood smoke.

Hummingbird Lane was a ten-minute drive from downtown. The houses on the gravel road were small and private. Dense trees and long driveways made it hard to see the homes from the road, but Nora caught flashes of woodpiles, outbuildings, chain link dog fences, and chicken pens.

Bren’s house was grasshopper green with a white trim that had yellowed with age. A cracked wall sconce burned next to the front door, attracting a cloud of gnats. Vinyl blinds hung from the two front windows. Paint peeled from every surface. There were cobwebs in most corners. The stoop was dark with mold.

“We needed a place with double ovens. This was all I could afford,” Celeste said, patting her pocket.

She pushed her key into the lock, but the door swung inward before she had the chance to turn it.

She froze.

Nora was right behind Celeste, and when she stiffened with fear, so did Nora. The feeling was contagious.

But Nora also felt protective of Celeste, so she gently pushed her out of the way and gave the door a shove. It swung open, hinges creaking until it stopped moving.

Nora fumbled along the inside wall for a light switch. When her fingers found the hard plastic, she flicked two switches, illuminating the living room of Bren’s house.

“Oh, no,” she breathed.

She stepped into the room, seeing nothing but destruction. Celeste shot past her, heading down a short hallway. Nora raced after her, only to halt in the doorway of a bedroom. Estella, June, and Hester crowded around her, and they all stared at the chaotic scene.

Someone had turned Bren’s bedroom inside out. Clothes were strewn everywhere. The bedding had been stripped and tossed into a corner. The pillows and mattress had been slashed in multiple places. The furniture—plastic drawers and a table—was crushed. The closet doors were open, revealing a suitcase with slits in its lining, a black ankle boot, and a broken lamp.

Celeste sank to the floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, she began to rock back and forth.

Nora was beside her in an instant. She put her arm around Celeste’s shoulders and tried to calm her. But Celeste wouldn’t stop rocking. Her eyes had taken on that faraway look again.

“Do you know who did this?” Nora whispered to her. “Was it the man with the tattooed arm?” She glanced back at her friends and was relieved to see that Hester had her phone pressed to her ear. She was calling Andrews. Good. Help would soon be on the way.

Nora rubbed Celeste’s back and told her that it would be okay. But as she took in the carnage that was Bren’s bedroom, she wondered how anything could ever be okay for Celeste again.

Because someone had broken into Bren’s house. Someone had torn Bren’s belongings to shreds.

Had that person found what they’d been looking for? Nora didn’t think so. From the look of things, that person had tracked down Bren instead.

Had she failed to provide the item’s location? And had that failure cost her her life?

Staring at the gutted remains of a teddy bear, Nora was afraid to discover the answer to that question.

The rage that created this carnage was still present in the house. It lingered like a foul odor or a bad memory. Nora could see a knife slicing through the suitcase lining and sofa cushions. She could imagine hands ripping and smashing. She could hear glass breaking and wood splintering.

This was no ordinary anger. This wasn’t a teenage prank or an ex-boyfriend seeking revenge. This was a unique kind of rage.

A killer’s rage.