My first customer was sitting at one of the café tables outside when I arrived. He handed me his credit card. “Large coffee and a couple of those brownies to go, please. And I need the next book in this series. My plan is to have this one done at lunch.”

  I took the card and glanced at the Lee Child book. “I’ll look it up and make sure I get you the right one.”

  “Tell Deek thanks for the recommendation. I’m loving this series. I can’t believe I hadn’t tried him earlier.” Jay—the man’s name was Jay, I remembered now that I saw his credit card—was an attorney in the city. We’d talked about my time at the firm, but where he was involved in tax and business law, his income kept him happy working the long hours, including a crazy commute. Yet he still made sure he made time for himself, including his pleasure reading.

  I hadn’t taken great care of myself until I’d moved here. Owning a bookstore had given me a lot of free time to think about what I wanted out of life. Well, it had until my aunt had moved to town and taken over managing my store and my life.

  I started the coffee machines, tracked down the next-in-series book for Jay, and had his coffee and brownie breakfast packed up with a receipt in less than five minutes. I took it back outside, where he was still reading. I set down the bags and cup and handed him back his credit card, along with his receipt and a bookmark. He sighed.

  “Thanks Jill. I guess it’s time for me to start adulting for the day.” He slipped the bookmark into the hardback and then pulled out his wallet. “You’re not hiring for this shift, are you?”

  “I doubt I could afford your salary needs.” I straightened the chairs at the other tables and took the rag I’d brought out on the tray and washed the tabletops. “And this shift is taken. I’m not giving it up for anyone.”

  “Actually, it’s for a friend’s daughter. She’s looking for a job to supplement her grants while she finishes her degree. I’m not sure what exactly she needs, but can I send her your way?” He stood, waiting for my answer.

  “I’m not sure if we’re hiring right now. But have her send us a résumé and mention your name. I’ll talk to my aunt to see if we’re going to need some summer help or not.” I paused at the door. “We don’t hire a lot here. She’d probably have better luck finding a job in Bakerstown.”

  “I’ll mention that too. Her dad has a place just down the highway. She’s back home after a bad breakup. My friend has asked me for the name of a good criminal lawyer, just in case he goes ballistic on this guy.”

  I knew he was kidding, but I understood the feeling. Sometimes murder was just about how big a jerk the victim was when he was alive. Not to say I condoned any type of murder, but I did understand it. “I know some of those too. The criminal lawyers, I mean, not the homicidal fathers.”

  He chuckled. “I got it.”

  When he left, I did my opening chores, thanks to a laminated list my aunt had made for every shift. Just in case we forgot what to do from one day to another. I went back to the message whiteboard, where we all left messages for one another. The board was clean except for the words, Work Your Open and Close List. Thank you, Captain Obvious. I picked up my pen. Are we hiring for shifts yet? Jay’s friend’s daughter is looking for a job. Then I signed my name, just in case my aunt didn’t recognize my handwriting. Okay, so maybe I was related to Captain Obvious.

  Then I grabbed an urban fantasy magic book and a fresh cup of coffee and sat down to read, waiting for the next customer.

  When Deek showed up at eleven, I’d only been disturbed twice. Once for a commuter who needed coffee because her husband had forgotten to buy coffee at the grocery store run last weekend. And a family who was here on vacation and looking for reading material. The daughter, who must have been eight, came to the counter with no less than eight books. The son, a year or so younger, had two. The parents mirrored the kid’s buying habits. The wife bought four paperbacks and a new release hardback from a woman’s fiction author I loved. He brought up a well-reviewed book on the life of Lincoln. My aunt would be pleased at the number of books sold this morning. My shift was usually more of a coffee-buying one.

  Things were good in my world. I mean, there was the whole Amy party planning thing and the fact that nobody official cared that I had the last original wall to the South Cove Mission in my backyard, but all in all, things were great.

  I decided I’d finish up the party planning this afternoon. And tonight, while we had dinner, Greg and I would make the decision about what to do or not do about the wall.

  Chapter 3

  The sense of peace and tranquility didn’t last long. My aunt came down five minutes into my reading time and thrust a paper at me. “Did you see this?”

  Carefully placing a bookmark to save my spot, I set down the book regretfully and took the papers. “I don’t know if I saw this or not. What is it?”

  “The Council is raising our fees for the business group. They are blaming us for the price increase because our charges for the room and refreshments are so high.” My aunt put on her reading glasses and pointed to a paragraph in the middle. “I’ve gotten five emails today asking why we’re fleecing the city.”

  “I only charge out what they eat. Maybe if people didn’t have two brownies, the monthly costs wouldn’t be so much.” I stared at the paperwork. Reading the letter, it was clear the message was that the fault was ours, not the council’s. Way to make it not about the City Council’s decision and shift the blame. “I’m calling Bill. He needs to fix this. If we get the entire community mad at us, our sales will plummet.”

  “Whatever you need to do, do it quickly. I don’t even want to open my email program.” Jackie glance around the empty shop. “You go make your calls. I’ll watch the shop. I’m so worked up right now, I might as well be doing something productive.”

  I grabbed the book and my coffee. I guessed I’d have to finish reading at home after my run. I dialed South Cove Bed and Breakfast as I walked. A recorded voice told me that although my call was very important, the staff was all working on making current customers’ stays amazing. The recording invited me to leave a message. Instead, I hung up and grabbed my tote. I paused at the counter where my aunt stood and checked the morning receipts. “Deek will be in at noon. If I take care of this sooner, I’ll be back and finish my shift. Just don’t worry.”

  “I really didn’t need all this hostility today. Harrold’s trying to teach me to meditate, but every time I start, I get pulled into drama. Why is my life so complicated?” Aunt Jackie held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know what I’m doing to keep the chaos going. Plausible deniability is a valid excuse, at least in my eyes.”

  I was proud of myself when I didn’t even giggle as I left the office. I’d negotiate a new regular charge for the monthly costs and the Council would send out a new letter. I’d never seen them be so heavy-handed in their negotiation tactics before, but maybe Bill had just been in a bad mood when he wrote the letter.

  Mary was in the kitchen when I knocked on the back door. She opened it wide and pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you came. It’s been crazy here and I haven’t even had a chance to call Jackie to tell her the news. How did you find out?”

  “The Council sent a newsletter.” I extracted myself from Mary’s bear hug.

  Mary’s face filled with confusion, but then the buzzer went off on the stove. “Hold on a minute, that’s my banana bread. I’m confused, though. The Council sent a letter about Bill’s father?”

  Something else was going on and we were having totally different conversations. “No, about the Business-to-Business group’s dues. What happened to Bill’s father” I watched as she pulled out two loaves of bread that smelled like bakery heaven.

  “Grab some coffee and sit down. I think we both need to start this conversation over.” She turned off the oven and returned to the table, where her own coffee sat with a large reservation book. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  I went through the discussion with Aunt Jackie that morning and the comments she’d been getting from the business community. “I’ve never seen her this upset. I don’t understand why Bill would point fingers like that.”

  “He wouldn’t. This had to be Alice Carroll’s doing. That woman hates Jackie and, by extension, your coffee shop. As part of the City Council, she’s always trying to get the meeting moved to Lille’s diner, but Lille refuses to take on the management of the group, so it never gets to the point where the group even votes.” Mary walked over and cut two slices of the still-warm bread, bringing them over on plates with a cube of butter.

  “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t Bill stop this?” I pointed to the letter. “Or at least warn us.”

  “Bill’s been out of town trying to get his father set up in a nursing home. We’d bring him here, but the doctor says he’s too weak to travel. I knew we should have done something last summer, but you always hope it’s not the time, you know.” Mary bit into her bread, holding up one finger while she chewed. “I’ve been running the business since last Monday. He didn’t make the last Council meeting, so that must have been when Alice struck. He should be coming home this weekend, but until then, you’ll just have to deal with the comments. Besides, I’ve never seen either you or Jackie back down from a fight. What’s the difference in this one?”

  “She’s tired, I think. This whole thing with the fake Uncle Ted has her questioning herself.” I sipped my coffee. “Do you think Bill will be able to fix it?”

  Mary smiled, and I knew she was thinking of her husband. “Bill will fix this. He’s got a little touch of Superman gene. That’s why I miss him so much while he’s gone.”

  I reached out and patted her hand. Her wedding set sparkled in the morning sunshine, even though it had to be thirty years old. Mary and Bill were my aunt’s age, and I considered them more than just friends. “If you need anything, call and I’ll come over or send Greg. He’ll be happy to help.”

  “He’s a good man. Strong, thoughtful, and crazy in love with you. When are the two of you going to make this playing house permanent?” Mary’s gaze searched my face for any tells, but actually, we hadn’t talked about marriage, not for a while. Greg had been married before, as had I, and we were both a little skittish.

  “Someday. There’s no hurry.” I finished my coffee. The conversation was getting deep. Time to bail.

  “I thought that about Bill’s father too. Life sneaks up on you. And it changes in a heartbeat.” She held up her hands in surrender at the look. “I’ll get off the subject, just think about it.”

  I thought about Mary’s advice as I walked back to the shop. I needed to calm Aunt Jackie down and draft a standard response we could shoot back when we got challenged. I’d handle that. My aunt was just as likely to tell the person what to do with their opinion than cut and paste a reasoned response that told everyone this wasn’t our fault and we’d be working with the Council to revert the dues to the prior level.

  At least that was the plan.

  I was almost at the shop when Frank Gleason from the Heritage Society rushed up to me. His hair was sticking up all over his head and his buttoned-down shirt wasn’t tucked in or even buttoned correctly. I barely recognized him from the focused, put-together man who’d come to interview me about the South Cove Mission Wall.

  “Miss Gardner, please tell me you haven’t received a letter from the Society yet?” He licked his dry lips as he watched me.

  “You mean the one where you explained how you didn’t save a vital part of South Cove’s history? Yeah, I got it.” I was glad I got to complain in person. Lack of funding was a common complaint in the California government system, but typically, nonprofits didn’t use the excuse. Of course, it could still just be pending. I guess I should be glad that the wait was over, even if the outcome wasn’t what we’d hoped.

  “Just ignore the letter. The project won’t be taken off the pending list. I had a lack of judgment and hit the wrong button.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “You’ll get a correction letter in a few days.”

  “Really? I don’t have to reapply or anything?” Now I felt a little guilty for raising my voice. If he was actually helping, I’d get more flies with sugar.

  “Yes, yes. I’ll handle everything.” He glanced over his shoulder and checked both ways down the street. He turned back to me, narrowing his eyes. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  Entering the shop, I saw my aunt watching me as I walked in. “Okay, so I’ve found out what’s going on. Bill’s going to fix it when he gets back.”

  Aunt Jackie pointed to the retreating figure who was now walking down the side of the road toward his Smart car. “Is that Frank? What did he want? Don’t tell me the preservation of the wall finally got approved?”

  “Not yet, but it’s not been blackballed from the process. Which is where we were this morning.” I handed my aunt the loaf of banana bread that Mary had sent with me. “Mary sent this over for you.”

  “I’m not eating carbs.” She pushed the packet back at me.

  “What are you talking about? Why aren’t you eating carbs?” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Frank talking on the phone, paused outside his vehicle. He really should take that call inside. South Cove didn’t have much traffic, but our streets were pretty narrow.

  “I’m losing weight for the wedding. I want to be the same size I was when I married your uncle.” She glared at the offending banana bread. “Maybe we should just give it to Deek or Toby. Men don’t seem to have the same problem with carbs.”

  Just then, I saw a large black Ram come screaming down the road. He was going way faster than the posted speed of twenty-five MPH. I saw Frank turn, his face draining of color, then the black truck blocked my view. The sound of the thump when the truck hit the older man hadn’t been blocked, though. I dropped the bread and swung open the door. “Call 911 and get an ambulance out here.”

  Not waiting for a reply, I took off running. As I did, the black truck backed up and sped down the road.

  “The plate is A5490B. A5490B.” I kept repeating the license plate number over and over, hoping I’d remember it. My phone was in my jeans pocket and I pulled it out, hitting speed dial for Greg. Like I’d expected, I’d gotten his voice mail. “Black Dodge Ram truck. Double tires in the back. License plate A5490B.”

  I hung up and tucked the phone back in my pocket. I was at the scene now and my breath was coming fast and hard. I tried to slow down my breath as I looked at Frank. His eyes didn’t see me, and as I reached out for a pulse, I knew I wouldn’t find one.

  The ambulance came seconds later. Of course, it felt like hours that I stood there, guarding the body and trying to keep traffic from the side of the road where Frank lay. Greg followed the EMT guys, and he put his hands on her arms.

  “Are you all right? You’re not hurt, are you?” He turned me left, then right, then ran his hands through my hair. “Did you hit your head or fall?”

  “I wasn’t involved in the accident. Aunt Jackie and I were at the window of the coffee shop. He came up and talked to me. Said he was going to fix the issue with the wall. Now he’s dead, so there won’t be any fixes.”

  “Which means you needed him alive. I’m so glad. I was worried I was going to have to arrest you for murder.”

  I narrowed my eyes, watching his face. When he didn’t smile like he usually does on a bad joke, I rubbed my face. This couldn’t be happening, not in a little town like South Cove. “You don’t think it was just an accident?”

  “You don’t either.” The words were calm and definitely not a question. He led me over to the sidewalk where a bench had been placed. “Sit and let me deal with this. I’ll take your statement a little later.”

  I did what he told me. Soon after the EMTs arrived, the van with Bakerstown Memorial Home on the side arrived. Doc Ames climbed out. The doc was owner/manager of the local funeral home, as well as the county coroner. Because there weren’t a lot of suspicious deaths in our little corner of the world, it worked out well for his life. Especially because it was just him and a part-time secretary, who also helped with hostess duties at the larger funerals.

  He pulled on a canvas fishing hat over his graying hair and moved slowly to the side of the road to check the body.

  My phone buzzed and I answered, turning away from the sight. “Hi, Aunt Jackie.”

  “Should I come out and sit with you? Why don’t you come back to the shop and sit out of the sun?” I could see my aunt standing at the bookstore window, watching me.

  “No, stay there. I’m coming inside. I’ll let Greg know where I am, but Doc Ames is here and I just don’t want to watch anymore.” And I didn’t want my aunt to see this.

  A clicking sounded on the other end of the line. “Is he dead?”

  “Yeah.” I caught Greg’s gaze and pointed to the bookstore. He nodded. Which was one of the great things about living with someone. They knew what you were saying, even if it was just a hand gesture or head nod. “I’m on my way inside. I can’t believe that truck just kept going.”

  I didn’t get a response, and when I looked up, my aunt was no longer in the window. And my phone was dead. I wondered if she’d heard anything I’d said after telling her I was coming inside.

  Deek had already arrived and was set up at one of the tables. He came in a lot to write during off hours now that he was working on his first novel. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about. He’d gone through a few first chapters and then dumped it all. He stood and hurried across the room to meet me. His blond dreadlocks had a pink tinge to them. “Are you okay? That must have been horrible.”