Publishable By Death, Andi Cumbo-Floyd [interesting books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Andi Cumbo-Floyd
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I’d seen hunters run dogs before, but I’d never been a big fan of chasing down an animal – either for sport or for the kill. So Mayhem had never been trained to hunt. But these dogs were hounds, and their scent instincts were kicking in hard. Within a minute, they’d centered in on a swatch of grass near the road, stopped, and stood stock still.
The sheriff gave me a look and headed over. There, glinting in the grass, was a knife with a long, thin blade. And at the tip, there was blood.
For the second time that day, a street in St. Marin’s was closed off, and the entire police force of the county was on site. Fortunately for the store, most of the police activity was behind the building, so we’d stayed open and available for customers who just needed a place to rest or be distracted. But by the end of the day when the Chinese food had been delivered, courtesy of Rocky and her mom, we were all frazzled, exhausted, and full of questions.
“So this person really has something to hide? And Deputy Williams must have been on to it, you think?” Mart asked between mouthfuls of Lo Mein.
“Seems to be the case. Or at least the murderer thought she was on to it,” Woody added.
I swallowed my bite of General Tso’s chicken and said, “So we think it’s the same person?”
“Pretty big coincidence if two murders happen in almost the same spot and aren’t connected in some way?” Walter said.
“True.” I put my chopsticks down and leaned back onto my elbows, knowing my back would regret this position in about two minutes. “Then, if that’s the case, what did the deputy find?”
A silence settled in while everyone pondered what might have been worth killing for . . . twice.
“Do you think someone was trying to break in here again?” Daniel’s voice sounded edgy, like he was angry, maybe. I was angry, though, so maybe I was reading more into what he was saying than was actually there.
“I think that’s a possibility. I mean, you did say, Harvey, that Sheriff Mason had been really discreet about the umbrella. Maybe the murderer thinks it’s still here.”
I shuddered. “Glory, I hope not.” I pondered installing a second alarm system.
Stephen reached over and patted my hand. “They moved the box inside. This time, when someone breaks in, we’ll know.”
“This time WHEN someone breaks in . . . ” I could hear the panic in my own voice, but then laughed when I saw the smirk on my friend’s face. “Stephen Murphy, you are the worst.”
“Why thank you,” he said with a little bow. “But seriously, a person would have to be pretty stupid to try to get in here again.”
I knew he was right, but then, the murderer had stabbed a deputy sheriff to death in the same place they’d killed Stevensmith. I started to giggle.
Daniel gave me a puzzled look. “Care to share with the class?”
“Well, I started thinking about one of my favorite shows of all time, Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, and how all these bad things happened at Sunnyvale because there was a portal to hell there.”
The entire group broke into laughter, and it felt like the weight of the day lifted a little. After a moment I said with fake seriousness, “So that’s a no to the hell portal then?”
Stephen reached over and patted my knee. “That’s a no. But if Willow shows, tell me. I love her.”
“You got it.”
We all walked back to our house together, and then quietly and without a hint of teasing, Mart, Stephen, and Walter went inside taking Mayhem with them. I turned to Daniel and found his face soft with worry. “You okay?”
I took a deep breath and gave myself a minute to really think about it. “I am. Dinner and a good laugh helped.”
“I’m glad. Be careful, though, Harvey, okay?”
I nodded. “I will.”
He gave me another soft kiss, and I slipped inside, not quite as elated as the night before.
I woke slowly on Sunday morning after a sleep so deep I wasn’t sure I’d moved at all. My body ached in that delightful way it does after a good rest, and I stretched hard as I headed into the kitchen. My good mood immediately dropped when I saw my friends’ faces. Mart was actually pale, which never happened given her love of a sunny day.
She gestured toward a bar stool and then spun the newspaper to face me. The headline read, “Local Bookshop Becomes Locus for Killing Spree.” I gasped and then started to cry.
“It’s not such a bad article, honey,” Walter said as he came behind me to massage my shoulders. “Just a really atrocious headline.”
“And it’s just the Courier. Everyone here already knows about the murders.” Mart’s voice was breathless with desperate reassurance.
I wiped my eyes with a napkin and leaned back with the paper in front of me. Walter was right. The article wasn’t that bad. In fact, they said a lot of good things about the store. The title wouldn’t hurt the store, I knew. But the idea that a place I had created was associated with all this violent death really hurt.
Laying the paper on the counter, I stood and got a cup of coffee for myself. Then, I turned to my friends and said, “Time to get to work. We have a lot to do. Wear comfortable walking shoes.” Then I turned and headed to my room, coffee mug in hand.
We all convened thirty minutes later in the foyer. My friends had no idea what I was thinking, but they’d all put on sneakers and were ready. I bent and put on Mayhem’s brightest bowtie – she had one for each season and holiday thanks to Mart and her dog attire spree of 2017. Then, I looked at my friends and said, “It’s time to give people a new association with our bookstore. No more ‘Locus for a killing spree’ for us.”
“Alrighty then. What’s the plan?” Stephen asked as he donned a bright red ball cap. “Handing out Rice Krispies treats? Hiring a pep band?” He gasped. “Giving away books?”
I smiled. “All good ideas, but no. We’re going to solve this murder, but first, we’re going to throw a party.”
We needed to lift the mood in St. Marin’s – I needed to lift the mood, and everyone loved a good street fair. So we spent the day planning for the first annual Leap Into Spring Street Fair for the following Sunday. A week wasn’t much time to plan an event, but by the end of Sunday, we’d gotten most of the merchants on Main Street to agree to have a sale or giveaway table on the sidewalk in front of their shops, convinced the local restaurants to offer a special spring dish on their menus, secured commitments from three of Baltimore’s favorite food trucks to come out for the day, and sent press releases to all the local media. We were billing the day as a “Celebration for the Life of Deputy Skye Williams.”
When the shop closed after a mediocre sales day – only the true crime enthusiasts seemed excited by shopping at “murder central,” as one customer put it – I was still feeling pretty good about the plan for the following weekend. But I was also more determined than ever to solve this murder. I wanted the sheriff to be able to announce he’d made an arrest at the festival. Of course, I hadn’t told anyone that – it seemed a ridiculous goal, but still, when I put my mind to something, I was hard to stop.
After we closed up, I sent Mart, Stephen, and Walter home after assuring them that Daniel would be there in a few minutes to walk me home. I had to show them his text message saying just that and lock the door while they watched before they would leave. But finally, I had a few minutes to myself. I loved my friends, but I was worn down by constant people. My little introvert heart needed just a few moments alone.
Plus, I wanted to take a look behind the shop right quick because something had been bugging me since the day before, and I needed to see the parking lot now that it was almost dark. I could almost hear Daniel scold me as I pushed open the back door, but I had Mayhem on her leash and a hammer in my hand.
I walked out into the lot a ways after taking a good look to be sure I was alone. I could see clear to the tree line that ran beside the houses on the block over, and all the way down the street, the lights on the back of the shops showed an empty back alley. No one in sight.
Turning to face the building, I studied the back of my store.
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