Chapter 9
Evil travels the world in anonymity, its presence revealed only by the periodic consequences of its desires.
—Dean Koontz
One Monday every month, after school let out, a group of moms met at Miracle Books. They’d have coffee and chat while their kids did homework or read a book. As Nora walked back to the ticket agent’s office, she was happy to see the usual moms in their usual chairs in the readers’ circle. Their kids were sprawled on the ground of the children’s section, surrounded by textbooks, notebooks, and picture books. It was a charmingly domestic scene.
“See? These women know I’m not in league with the devil,” Nora told Sheldon.
Sheldon grunted. “That’s because they didn’t hear your idea for our Spooky Storytime.”
Nora laughed. “I was only kidding when I mentioned All My Friends Are Dead.”
“No kid wants to see illustrations of a depressed dinosaur, no matter how well they’re drawn. That T. rex makes me feel like I need a double dose of Prozac.”
“You can’t say anything about my choice. You picked Room on the Broom. Do you really think this is a good time to read a book about a witch?” Nora shot back.
“It’s an adorable book.”
Since she couldn’t argue with that, Nora placed the postcard on the counter. She used her phone to photograph both sides before slipping the card into a sandwich bag.
“What’ve you got there?”
Nora showed Sheldon the card.
He read the message, flinched, and then looked at the picturesque lake scene on the front before handing it back to Nora. “Cecily, huh? That’s pretty. Has she read this postcard from the edge?”
“No. She’s under enough stress as it is. I told McCabe about it. He’s on his way.”
Sheldon tapped the counter. “Leave it. I’ll give it to him. You have another mission. Janice, the lovely lady in the boatneck sweater, is the new prez of the PTA, and she needs some anti-bullying books. Don’t tell her I said so, but I don’t think these campaigns work. You can make kids read books, color posters, and make pledges, but you can’t stop bullying. Bullies are crafty. They hide behind fake profiles and anonymous texts. Even in elementary school. And not all bullies are kids. They’re everywhere. In the workplace. In our government. Look at the she-wolves. Do you think a few books on kindness and tolerance could convince them to back off?”
“Kids are more open to change, so it’s worth starting a dialog about the topic with them,” Nora argued. “If kids believe that the adults at their school are there to listen, help, and create a safe environment, they’ll be more willing to confide in those adults. And if a book helps them to articulate their feelings, that’s always a win. For the bullies too. Bullies lash out because they’re hurting. It doesn’t make them feel better, but they don’t know what else to do. Sports, music, art, tutoring—they give kids an outlet for those feelings.”
“Not if the schools’ budgets keep getting slashed,” said Sheldon. “I heard our Monday moms say that there isn’t enough money for crayons or construction paper. If they want their kids to make any art besides shadow puppets, they’ll be doing lots of bake sales.”
Everyone had problems, but on this Monday, they seemed more prevalent than usual.
It was times like these that the bookshop felt less like a retail space and more like a sanctuary. The moms in the readers’ circle might be stressed out, but in this haven of books and peace, they were able to take a deep breath. They could have an adult conversation. Share ideas and a laugh or two. By the time they left, their problems wouldn’t seem so big.
As soon as Nora stepped out of the ticket agent’s office, Janice waved her over. “Just the woman I was looking for. Do you have a minute? Or thirty?”
Nora smiled. “Sure.”
Another mom vacated her chair. “Take my seat. I have to run. One daughter has volleyball practice. The other has a soccer game. I’m going to burn off every crumb of that Nutella on toast running between the gym and the soccer fields.”
After wishing her luck, her friends immediately fell into a discussion about the challenges of getting the entire family to sit down to a healthy, homecooked meal.
“I’m ordering takeout three nights a week because I don’t have time to think, let alone cook,” said one mom.
Another replied that her slow cooker was a lifesaver, while another admitted that she served pancakes for dinner whenever her husband worked late.
With her friends otherwise occupied, Janice leaned forward and focused her attention on Nora.
“Sheldon probably told you that I need books about bullying,” she began. “Let me give you a tiny bit of backstory. After meeting with the teachers this morning, it’s pretty clear that what the district did last year was a bust. I guess the campaign was all talk and no fun. Because the kids didn’t buy in, it failed. We need to figure out how to get them to buy in.”
Janice reached into a tote bag and pulled out a folder. “The teachers said that group rewards motivate their students. Kids like celebrating together. One teacher said that his kids read twice as many books last year compared to the previous year because of a pizza party.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. But for some kids, it was more about the pizza than the party. A quarter of our students are food insecure, which means their school lunch is often their biggest meal of the day.” She held out both hands as if to stop herself from going off topic. “Here’s where you come in. Can you find books on bullying that don’t have the word bully in the title? Or even better, books on bullying that mention food?”
At the front of the store, the sleigh bells clanged. Nora guessed that Sheriff McCabe had arrived.
“Give me a minute to look up some titles,” she told Janice. “You want to cover all the grade levels, right?”
“Yep. K through five. We’d need a range of reading levels, but I’m also thinking that this would be a great topic for buddy reads.”
Nora couldn’t agree more. “Buddy reading is a win-win. The younger kid feels special and gets to practice his reading. The older kid gets a self-esteem boost and improves his social skills. And if one of the books they read together contains a subtle message about bullying, then we’re ticking several boxes at once.”
After promising to return with a list of recommendations, Nora grabbed the bag with the postcard from the ticket agent’s office and told Sheldon that he could go home whenever he was ready.
She ran into McCabe rounding the corner of the Fiction section. Seeing the bag in her hand, he instinctively reached for it.
“How’d you end up with this?” he asked, frowning at the postcard.
Nora explained the plan she and her friends had devised to help keep Soothe running as smoothly as possible.
McCabe plucked his reading glasses from his shirt pocket. “Damn it all. I need more natural light. Even with the glasses.” He sighed. “Aging isn’t for the weak. Let’s move to the front window.”
While McCabe examined the postcard, Nora took the opportunity to research a few titles for Janice. She had the chance to jot down two before McCabe approached the checkout counter.
“Did you show this to Ms. Leopold?”
“No. I stuck it in my pocket right away.”
The sleigh bells banged, and McCabe turned to watch a trio of teenage girls lurch into the shop. Their bodies were pressed so close together that they seemed attached at the shoulders and hips. With their shredded jeans, long braids, white sneakers, and earbuds, the girls were almost indistinguishable. Nora recognized the two blondes, but she’d never seen the brunette before. The blondes, who were both fifteen, were fans of YA Fantasy. They bought every book written by Leigh Bardugo and Sarah J. Maas and never needed recommendations. Both girls were members of an active Instagram YA book group and were so in touch with YA reading trends that Nora often asked them which books to preorder.
McCabe dipped his chin in greeting, which caused the three teens to blush and press forward as a single unit into the stacks. Giggles and whispers trailed after them.
Seeing McCabe’s puzzled expression, Nora said, “It’s best to avoid direct eye contact until they feel comfortable around you.”
“Duly noted.” McCabe held up the postcard. “Thanks for this. And for giving Celeste a hand. This will probably be the longest, hardest week of her life.”
Nora wasn’t ready to let him go. “Did she talk to you yesterday? I’m not asking just to be nosy. Like it or not, I’m involved in this. I found Bren’s body. That book page was left under my doormat. I think I have a right to know if this a murder investigation.”
“I wish I could give you a straight answer. Celeste said that her daughter was keeping secrets, but she won’t go into detail about these secrets. The ME hasn’t been able to pinpoint the cause of death, either. He’s waiting on more test results.”
“Maybe the answers are elsewhere,” said Nora. “Like Pine Hollow.”
At that moment, one of the moms appeared in the front with her son in tow. After waving at Nora, the pair left the bookshop. Another mom and her three kids soon followed. A third mom carrying several books approached the checkout counter. The coffee hour was over.
McCabe left, and Nora rang up the woman’s books. She then returned to the readers’ circle to share her recommendations with Janice.
Taking a seat, Nora said, “My go-to source for books on challenging topics at the grade-school level is a children’s librarian who blogs about the best books for the classroom. She’s been posting for over a decade and hasn’t steered me wrong yet. For the younger kids, the two titles I picked are The Potato Chip Champ and Enemy Pie.”
Janice’s eyes lit up. “And they address bullying?”
“The potato chip book is about kindness and what it means to have a healthy friendship. It’s a great book for the beginning of the school year. Enemy Pie focuses on dealing with conflict. The librarian said that it’s especially helpful for kids who struggle socially.”
“Potato chips and pizza. Kids love both of those things,” Janice said, scribbling in her notebook. “And if we set up the buddy read program, the older kids can read the books and share in the rewards. Do you have recommendations for them too?”
“Not with food in the title. However, The Recess Queen and Just Kidding are perfect for that age group. One story features girls. The other one’s about boys.”
Janice’s pen raced across the page. “Two is good. If we make them read a dozen titles about the same subject, we’ll have the same results as last year. I’m going to order copies of these four books, pronto. As soon as they come in, I’ll meet with the teachers, and we’ll come up with creative ways to discuss the messages in each book. And by creative, I mean cheap.”
Later, after Nora placed the order, she thought of how Connie Knapp could learn something from the PTA president. Janice tackled a problem by asking for help and welcoming other people’s ideas and suggestions. Connie used fear tactics. She got people to follow her by tapping into their anxieties and vilifying her opponents. Both women claimed a desire to help the community, but the only woman who would truly change Miracle Springs for the better was Janice.
Sheldon had cleaned up after the moms, leaving Nora to tidy the children’s section.
A copy of Holly Black’s Tithe had somehow ended up with the board books, so Nora carried it to its proper home in the Young Adult corner.
The three teens were there, sitting on the floor. The blondes sat, shoulder to shoulder, thick hardcovers open on their laps. The brunette had her back to the shelves and was balancing her book on top of her bent knees. Nora loved seeing the girls lost in their books, and she flashed them a smile, put Tithe on its shelf, and returned to the front of the shop.
Twenty minutes later, the brunette approached the checkout counter, hugging a book to her chest.
“Hey,” she said in a library whisper.
“Hey,” Nora replied.
The girl eased the book away from her chest and glanced at the cover with longing. Nora knew that look. It was the look of a reader who didn’t want to part from her book.
“Is there, like, a limit, on how long we can read here?”
“What’s captured your interest?” Nora asked.
The girl showed her the novel’s cover. It was Cinder by Marissa Meyer.
“Ah, the first of the Lunar Chronicles.” Nora nodded in approval. “I had my doubts about that book before I read it, but I was won over by the blend of Cinderella-meets–Blade Runner. You’re probably too young to know that movie. Anyway, you can read until closing.”
“Really? But this isn’t a library.” The girl was genuinely baffled.
“That’s true,” Nora agreed. “But if you love Cinder, you might buy Scarlet. This is why booksellers let people browse for as long as they like. We count on them falling in love with a series and buying the next installment.”
The girl’s face turned bright red. “Not me. I can’t bring a book like this home.”
She was telling Nora that even though she was in high school, she wasn’t allowed to choose her own pleasure reads. Someone else did that. A controlling parent, most likely.
“That’s okay,” Nora was quick to assure her. “You can read here. Just spend a little money now and then on hot chocolate or a bookmark. Does that work for you?”
The girl’s smile was transformative. Joy spilled from her eyes. “Seriously? I could come, like, every day?”
Nora grinned. “Sure. Every day. But if you’re going to become a fixture, we should be on a first-name basis.” She held out her hand. “I’m Nora.”
The girl’s delight disappeared in an instant. Though clearly apprehensive, she took Nora’s hand and said, “I’m Vicky.”
“Nice to meet you, Vicky. Are you new to Miracle Springs?”
Looking even more miserable, she murmured, “Yeah. We moved here from Alabama.”
Suddenly, one of the blondes poked her head around the corner of the Fiction section. “Yo, Knappster!” she whispered. “What’s up?”
“I was asking about this,” Vicky said, holding up the book. She gave Nora a smile that was brief but filled with gratitude and warmth, before returning to the YA section with her friend.
Nora passed her hands over her face in disbelief. She’d just met Connie Knapp’s daughter. Connie, the woman who wanted to destroy Miracle Books, had a daughter—a young woman—who yearned for the freedom to read. Vicky had come to the bookshop in search of stories and sanctuary. Not only had she found these, but she’d also made a friend.
Nora Pennington, champion of books and book lovers, was now her ally.
* * *
After closing that evening, Nora didn’t go straight home. Instead, she strolled up Main Street’s sidewalk, peering in shop windows and enjoying the sound of dried leaves crunching under her feet.
It was officially sweater weather, and though Nora was a little chilly in her white blouse and book-print scarf, she didn’t mind. After being inside for most of the day, the crisp evening air felt invigorating.
Nora paused under Soothe’s purple awning and gazed into the store. Other than the lights in the display window, the shop was dark. All was quiet. When Nora glanced up to the second story, she saw a buttery light in two of the windows. Celeste was in her apartment, safe and sound. Satisfied, Nora turned for home.
The chill in the evening air called for comfort food, so Nora decided to make turkey chili for supper. While the ground turkey was browning on the stovetop, she drained a can of kidney beans and started chopping a small onion. She usually listened to music when she cooked, but tonight, she wanted to think. How could the Secret, Book, and Scone Society do their part to aid and protect Celeste when they knew so little about her?
With the chili simmering, Nora opened a notebook and powered up her laptop. It was time to search for answers, starting with Pine Hollow, North Carolina.
It took no time at all to learn that Pine Hollow was a very small town—probably half the size of Miracle Springs—but just as remote. Miracle Springs was surrounded by mountains while Pine Hollow was surrounded by either farm or swamplands. As Nora looked at photos and read about the town’s history, she got the sense of a quiet place, well off the beaten path. Theirs was not a town hosting festivals or food trucks. Leisure-time activities were limited to fishing the lake or hunting the woods. There were no movie theaters or strip malls. No coffee shops or ice cream parlors. No subdivisions with playgrounds and clubhouses.
“A lonely town,” Nora said, getting up to turn off the stove burner.
When she returned to the table with a steaming bowl of chili and a heel of brown bread, she decided to postpone her research until after her meal. She didn’t have enough hands to eat, type, and take notes, but she could easily eat and read.
Two chapters later, Nora was full and a little disoriented. She’d become so invested in the lives of the fictional characters she’d come to love that she’d forgotten about Celeste. Her confusion didn’t last long, and Nora knew she could continue The Flatshare as soon as she was done sleuthing, but it was still hard to set the book aside and return to reality.
After putting her chili bowl in the sink to soak and refilling her glass with sparkling water, Nora hit the space bar on her laptop. It seemed to take forever for the machine, which was getting old, to wake up.
“I get it,” Nora told her computer. “Some days, you just want to keep dreaming.”
She typed “Cecily Leopold” and “North Carolina” into Google’s search box and found a result that contained both Cecily Leopold’s name and the word “community.”
Nora clicked on the link, which brought her to the site of a daily newspaper located in the eastern part of the state. The article, entitled “School Employee Fired After CBD Use Results in Failed Drug Test,” had been written back in March.
“CBD,” Nora whispered. “Oh, no.”
The article’s focus was one Lazarus Harper, sixty-four-year-old cafeteria worker employed by the Washington County Schools. Harper, who’d suffered from chronic lower back pain for more than a decade, had become fed up with his prescription medicine. The high cost and negative side effects had him looking for alternatives. He was delighted to find that CBD oil was an affordable source of pain relief without any adverse side effects. Unfortunately, in January, he failed a state-mandated drug test. Harper’s THC levels were higher than 0.3 percent, despite the fact that the product label on his CBD oil declared it to be THC-free. Harper purchased the CBD oil from Cecily Leopold of the Still Waters Community. He intended to take legal action against Ms. Leopold and the leader of the Community for selling a defective product as well as the Washington County Schools for wrongful termination.
A headshot of Lazarus Harper accompanied the article. Harper had a scruffy beard, leathery skin, and sunken eyes. The lines on his face, the broken capillaries near his nose, and his thinning hair spoke of a hard life.
“Are you the man from the park?” Nora asked.
Since she couldn’t see any of Harper’s body in the photo, she ran a search for other images but found nothing.
Foiled, she turned her attention to the Still Waters Community. This must be the place mentioned during Celeste’s sedative-induced confession to Deputy Andrews. The place she should have left sooner.
Still Waters appeared as a commercial website and was referenced in three articles besides the Harper piece.
Nora clicked on the Still Waters Gallery website. It was a virtual gallery featuring every imaginable artform. There were pages of paintings, sculpture, jewelry, stained glass, ceramics, textiles, mosaics, calligraphy, drawings, printmaking, furniture, photography, and more. Everything was for sale. Every item included a description, a brief bio of the artist, and a price. Purchases could be completed through PayPal. The contact link was an email form.
Since there was no record of Cecily or Bren on the site, Nora moved on to the articles that mentioned Still Waters.
The first was little more than a blurb describing the collision between a motorist and a six-hundred-pound black bear. The driver’s survival was credited to a resident of Still Waters, a metalsmith named Jacob Dietz, who appeared at the scene to help.
Another resident, a woman named Molly Peterson, found a young girl who’d become separated from her family during a camping trip. After the girl had been missing for two days, Ms. Peterson spotted her on a bed of moss under the protective ledge of a rock pile. She was fast asleep and unharmed. Afterward, Ms. Peterson and the girl became pen pals.
The last piece was less flattering. A Mr. and Mrs. Minnick claimed that their daughter ran away to join the “cult” of Still Waters. As the girl was seventeen, law enforcement was called in to investigate. The investigation resulted in no charges, and the girl returned home without incident. On her eighteenth birthday, she packed her things and moved back to Still Waters. The Minnicks now tell everyone that their daughter lives in the forest like a savage.
“Which forest?” Nora mumbled.
Still Waters Community appeared to have no mailing address. Nor was it on any maps. Only after some deep digging on the county’s property database did Nora finally locate a PO box and a parcel number. The parcel number matched an enormous tract of land two miles outside of Pine Hollow’s town limits.
Nora tried to view the area using the map’s satellite view, but it showed only a sea of pines and a smudge of blue peeking out from the middle of all the green.
She suddenly remembered the photo on the postcard mailed to Cecily Leopold. The lake on that card was the same shade of blue as the one on Nora’s computer screen.
“Prussian blue.”
If Cecily Leopold and Celeste Leopold were the same woman, then Cecily had an enemy in Pine Hollow. Lazarus Harper blamed her for the loss of his livelihood. He blamed her and the place she and Bren used to call home.
Nora thought of the man with the tattooed arm. She thought of the old book page, of its unfamiliar language and the robed figures assembling ingredients for an unknown concoction.
The Minnicks had called Still Waters a cult.
Had Cecily left Pine Hollow because something had gone wrong inside Still Waters? Had Lazarus Harper’s accusations about the CBD oil caused problems for Cecily and Bren? Maybe they’d been told to leave. Maybe they’d been shunned.
Cecily hadn’t packed up and moved on a whim. She’d made plans. She’d leased a building on the other side of the state. She’d rented a house for Bren. She’d picked out a new name: Celeste.
But she hadn’t gone far enough. Her new name hadn’t been different enough.
She’d been found.
By Lazarus Harper? Or someone else?
Who sent the postcard?
Who put the book page under Nora’s mat?
What had happened to Bren?
Nora stared at the lake on her screen. The oval of blue water was surrounded by dense trees. It looked like the eye of a storybook giant imprisoned in the earth. This wasn’t the placid, peaceful lake from the postcard. This lake had hidden depths. Its waters kept secrets.
Nora didn’t want to look at it anymore. She slammed her laptop lid closed, plunging the room into shadow. Suddenly, she realized how late it was. How quiet and dark. The only light in her entire house came from the dim bulb over the stove.
It wasn’t enough. Not if there was a monster in Miracle Springs.
Had a monster come for Bren? Was it stalking Celeste? Was it out there, in the dark?
Watching. Waiting. Wanting.