As I fit my key into the lock at Baxter’s Book Emporium, Olivia Hokes rushed out from next door. Oh God, what now? I fervently hoped she wasn’t on another pissed-off rant. I much preferred the supportive-neighbor version of Olivia.
“What a pleasant surprise.” I’d be in deep trouble if the woman turned out to be a mind reader.
“Good afternoon, Miss Quinn.”
“It’s Jenna, please.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Only if you’ll call me Livie.” She ducked her head in a tiny nod.
I unlocked my door and held it open for her to precede me inside. “All right, Livie. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, there is.” Livie seated herself beside the counter. “First, I’d like to apologize for the way I treated you a few days ago. I was having a bad day with the arthritis in my knees. I tend to be snippy on days like that. After our last chat, I realized I hadn’t set things straight.”
I nodded with sympathy I didn’t feel. This lady was way too spry to have arthritis as bad as she claimed, but I’d allow her a way to save face. “Don’t think a thing about it. Consider it completely forgotten. Was there anything else?” I genuinely hoped there wasn’t. No matter how I looked at it, the older woman got on my nerves, and I hoped my irritation didn’t show.
“Actually, there is. Paul sometimes found books that mentioned Hokes Folly or one of its citizens. When he did, he always gave me first chance at buying them. I have quite a collection. It’s become sort of a hobby of mine. Would you mind offering me the same service?” Livie was still using her sweet, helpless act.
I wasn’t buying it. However, if Livie wanted to purchase books, I’d manage to put on a nice act of my own. “I’d be delighted to help out. Anything for a neighbor.” I hoped Livie couldn’t see through my forced politeness, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to find out more about the woman who now pretended to like Uncle Paul, a man she had previously implied she despised. “But only if you promise to give me a look at your collection sometime when it’s convenient. It sounds fascinating.”
“Of course. Anytime you want.” A genuine smile crossed Olivia Hokes’s face, the first I’d seen since I’d met her in Mr. Grimes’s office.
The change was startling. I could now see a strong resemblance between the two sisters, as the smile softened Livie’s features and brought a sparkle to her eyes.
“You stop by anytime you want,” Livie repeated, continuing to smile. “I love to show off my books and get a chance to teach someone about our town.”
“I’ll be sure and do that.” I couldn’t help but wonder at this third version of the woman.
Livie rose and turned toward the door. “I guess I should be getting back next door. Phillie didn’t want me gone too long, since she’s ready to go home for the day.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as the bells tinkled to announce Olivia Hokes’s departure and shook my head at the sisters’ nicknames for each other. Sure, Phillie fit the sweet Ophelia, but Livie seemed a bit too cute for the usually sour Olivia. Or was it? Livie had shown an unexpected side of herself today. Was the woman as sour as she seemed, or was there still a wholesome and hopeful attitude buried somewhere under all the bitterness she wore like a badge? Would the real Olivia Hokes please step forward?
I pulled my attention back to the bookstore. As I looked down the aisles, I was amazed at how much Mason had accomplished during my absence the previous afternoon. He’d be a true asset while here, and I’d hate to see him go.
I’d given Mason the day off since I’d had no idea what time I’d arrive, so I passed the afternoon alone with my thoughts of murder.
The bells tinkled, and I hoped it was a genuine customer this time. I was pleased to find it was. Thanks to my efforts and the assistance from my new friends, I managed to help my first customer of the day and the subsequent three who entered the store, finding the right book for each and sending them away happy with minimal effort. I was genuinely starting to like this place. Maybe once word got out that things were run a bit differently and Norman Childers could in no way change the store’s makeup, more business would roll in. As I eyed the large front windows with the little shelf below them, display possibilities ran through my mind, and I spent the afternoon plotting how to attract more customers.
That evening I replayed the day: the information from my parents, Norman’s murder, and the tense-but-not-unpleasant meeting with the newest version of Olivia Hokes. The sales I’d made had definitely made the day’s end a success. Yet the shadow of murder and the ordeal I’d suffered through that morning at the hands of Detective Sutter, with his ugly insinuations, pompous assumptions, and rude allegations, cast a pall on what could have been an otherwise good day.
I went into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. At the sight of jumbled kitchen towels in a slightly open drawer, I frowned. Oh well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d left things in a bit of a mess. I wasn’t the best housekeeper in the world, much to the disappointment of my mom, who had to be related somehow to Martha Stewart.
I took my tea to the bedroom, turning the lights out and locking up as I went. My eyes sought a book about how to run a business I’d brought home from my store the day before, determined to be successful in this peaceful little town if I stayed—Norman Childers and Detective Sutter aside.
The book lay under my bed, a corner peeking out from under the dust ruffle. My brow furrowed. I could’ve sworn I’d left it on the nightstand, but I shrugged and got ready for bed, changing into my comfy pajamas, which had somehow managed to work their way onto the floor from the chair I’d thrown them over that morning.
I started reading as I set my tea mug on the nightstand. I turned back the covers and absently propped the pillow against the headboard, sat, and leaned back. A crinkling sound startled me, and I turned to examine my pillow. The business book thudded to the floor as it fell from my numb fingers. I unpinned the note from my pillow and reread it.
Go home! We don’t want you here!
If you stay, you’ll end up like
Paul Baxter and Norman Childers.
GO HOME BEFORE YOU REGRET IT!