“I’m fine. I just can’t believe he’s gone. He was just talking to me, then he got hit by a truck? What is going on?”

  “Probably a drunk driver. Someone who was still partying from last night.” My aunt went over to the counter and poured a cup of coffee. “Here, drink this. It’s been a crazy morning.”

  “That’s for sure.” I eyed one of the brownies sitting in the case.

  “Fine, have a brownie too.” She glanced at the clock. “Your shift is almost over and Deek’s already here. Why don’t you go to Lille’s and grab some lunch instead of feeding a sugar high?”

  “Greg wants to talk to me. So I’ll stay here until he comes in. He’s probably going to be too busy to eat too.” I rubbed my temples, trying to will away the headache I knew was coming.

  “Well, keep yourself busy instead of just sitting there, freaking out.” My aunt nodded to the back room. “We have new books that just came in this morning. You could put them into inventory and then stock the shelves.”

  “I was going to do that on my shift.” Deek closed his computer. When he saw the look my aunt gave him, he stopped short, laptop under his arm. “Of course, I could do something else.”

  “I’ll put them into inventory and you can stock the shelves. I think we had a pretty big order this week. You might have to change up some of the shelves to make room.” I ate my brownie in two bites. Then I stood with my coffee and went around the counter. “Let me know when Greg comes in.”

  Aunt Jackie put her hand on my arm as I passed her. “You couldn’t have changed anything. You weren’t close enough to stop that guy.”

  “I know. And what could I do against that large a truck anyway?” I gave her a quick hug. “But thanks for checking on me.”

  Back in the office, I grabbed some scissors and started opening boxes. We had a large trash can we put the box stuffing in when we unpacked. Most of the stuff got reused; we sent out a good number of mail orders. Or we did since we’d hired Deek. The guy had a knack with online marketing. If we ever taught him the accounting system or signed over the bank account for his use, he’d be the one employee Coffee, Books, and More couldn’t do without. So we kept him out of the long-term planning as well as the accounting. We had to have some secrets, right? I’d unpacked all the boxes and was about halfway through keying the books into our inventory when Greg walked into the office.

  “Glad to see you keeping busy, but shouldn’t you have left hours ago? I called your cell to see if you were at Lille’s or home. When I didn’t get an answer, I came here.”

  I pushed back my hair out of my face and blew off a line of stuffing that hadn’t wanted to leave when I’d picked up the book. “You said to stay nearby.”

  “I didn’t mean—” Greg pulled off his baseball hat and put it over his head backward. “Anyway, sorry if I wasn’t clear. Come have lunch with me. I can take your statement and eat. And I’m starving.”

  “You really should eat more than doughnuts for breakfast. You need solid food.” I grabbed my purse and walked out toward the coffee shop area. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

  “I have a girlfriend to gripe at me for these things. Why would I change?” He picked up my tote and groaned at the weight. “How many books are you taking home? Thank God we have built-in bookshelves.”

  I smiled at his mention of our home. Our bookshelves. Our lives. “Let’s go, then, before your other girlfriend finds out about me.”

  Chapter 4

  We were halfway through lunch when I realized Greg hadn’t asked me anything about the truck or what I’d seen.

  “We really need to see a show while we’re there. There are a lot of stars that retire to the Strip and just do shows for the bigger casinos. I can’t blame them. It must be hell living out of a suitcase most of the year to tour the new album.” He finished off his mashed potatoes. I’d noticed that he typically ate those first, then his meat, and, finally, his veggies. Greg belonged to the Clean Plate Club, but the way he got there was totally different from my eating process.

  I set down my fork and watched him.

  Finally, he met my gaze. He waved his fork at my chicken burger and fries. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Why aren’t we talking about what happened to Frank? I thought that’s why we were doing lunch today.”

  He stopped eating, picked up his water, and took a long drink. Then he took my hand. “The reason we’re not talking about what happened is, I wanted just a little time with my girl before I go headlong into this investigation. You know how things can get when I’ve got an important case going. I don’t come home for dinner. If I come home, I’m late, and I leave early. I just wanted one hour where I could pretend that the next few days aren’t going to be total crap.”

  Now I felt like a jerk. I squeezed his hand. “Sorry. I should have trusted you. I just want to clear my head of the memory, and right now, I’m trying too hard to keep everything in my head. I don’t want to forget something important.”

  “You already gave me plate and vehicle information. If we’re lucky, the BOLO I put out before I left the station will have him in some jail north of us by the time lunch is over.” He nodded to my plate. “So are you going to eat that and talk to me about sweet little nothings?”

  “Sure, why not.” I cut my sandwich in half so I could get my hands around it. No matter what happened in my life, I could always count on Lille’s food being outstanding. And this chicken sandwich was no exception. “Did I tell you I’m planning the women’s section of the party?”

  He choked on a sip of water. “Are you kidding? Does she even know you?”

  “Of course she knows me. We’ve been friends forever. Oh, you were dissing my mad party planning skills.”

  “Honey, you hate planning the book events that come to your bookstore. You already told me you put all the event planning onto Deek as soon as you hired him.”

  I shrugged, enjoying my sandwich. “He’s good at it. It’s a shame not to use an employee’s talent when you can.”

  “That’s your story…” He laughed, pushing away the empty plate and leaning back in his chair. He checked his phone.

  “You’re going to have to get going, right?” I knew that look. Playtime was over.

  He drew out his notebook and clicked his pen. “Tell me what happened.”

  * * * *

  After Greg left, I stayed at Lille’s to finish my lunch and, just because I was feeling a little depressed, I ordered some apple pie à la mode. I’d run tomorrow. By the time I got home the mail had come, and I took the pile to the back porch, where I could hang out with Emma after she made the yard safe from any roving wildlife or bunnies. My dog hated bunnies. I think they teased her when I was at work and she could see them from the back window.

  I flipped through the mail and opened a large envelope with Keller Construction on the return address. I unfolded the papers and started reading. Emma had joined me, so I read aloud just so she could know what was going on. “‘Dear Ms. Gardner. We are starting the process for developing a large water park in your area. Due to your house’s proximity to the highway, it’s in a prime spot for us to consider purchasing and building our project on your land. If you are interested in selling, please contact me and we can set a time to talk about our offer.’”

  I folded the paper back into the envelope and tossed it onto the swing. “What is it with all the drama around the house lately? First that writer stops us and wants to write about the wall. Then the wall isn’t going to be approved, then maybe, then Frank dies, and now someone wants to buy the house? Way too much stuff going on around here for my taste.”

  Emma barked, but it was at Toby coming in the driveway. He hustled over to his shed apartment and unlocked the door. I watched him disappear into what could only be described as an ultratiny house. Twenty minutes later, he came back out, still dressed in uniform and headed back to his truck.

  I was waiting for him at the gate. “What’s going on?”

  “Jeez Jill, you scared me to death.” He tried going around me.

  “Hold up, buddy, what’s going on, why are you here?” I studied his uniform; it looked way too clean.

  He visibly relaxed. “Oh, that’s what you want? I thought, I mean, I got stains on my shirt. And since I’m pulling a doubleheader, Greg let me come home to change before I start patrolling.”

  “Good idea.” I held my hand up to his chest, and he looked nervously down at it. “I only need one more thing.”

  I let the statement hang in the air. Toby looked at me suspiciously. “What?”

  “Tell me how the investigation is going. Did you find the truck?” I knew I must have looked like a news junkie looking for the next hit.

  He stepped around me. “No way, no how. Greg gets testy when I tell you about investigations, and I’m coming up on my annual evaluation. I don’t need things like ‘failure to protect classified information’ showing up and lowering my chance of getting a raise this year. I like my job.”

  When he saw the glare, he added, “I like both jobs. You’re putting me in a bad situation here.”

  He was right. I shouldn’t have asked. I reached down and petted Emma. “Sorry, it’s just I was there when it happened. It feels closer somehow because of that.”

  Toby paused, leaning over his doorframe, watching me. “I know. And from what I heard, you couldn’t have done anything. He was probably dead as soon as the truck hit.”

  “Poor Frank. It’s crazy that some random event takes someone out like that. It’s like that Final Destination movie—when it’s your time, it’s your time.” I watched to see how Toby would react to my words. And I wasn’t disappointed.

  “Well, yeah, there’s that.” He didn’t meet my eyes; in fact, he turned his head away and climbed into his truck. He started the engine, then leaned out the window. “Look, you can’t tell Greg I told you this, but we don’t think it was random. He had threats on his computer at his office and at home. Nasty ones. And that’s all I’m saying.”

  “I don’t know if that’s better than just being unlucky or not.” I waved to Toby as he backed out of the driveway. My phone rang and I glanced at the display. “Hi, Amy. What’s up?”

  “Just following up on the table decorations. I know you said next week, but you’ve had the stuff for more than a month. I have the afternoon off. Maybe I should come over and help.”

  I groaned. I was in a quandary. If Amy came over, she’d see I hadn’t made any progress on the decorations since the last time she’d come by and set up my kitchen as craft wedding central. But if I said no, I’d have to actually get them done next week. And I wasn’t sure that even I could get these done in a month’s time by myself. I decided to take the bullet. Besides, maybe she’d feel sorry for me because I’d witnessed what had happened to Frank.

  “Sure, come on over. I’d appreciate the help. I haven’t gotten as far as I’d hoped.” Which wasn’t a real lie. “Besides, I’ve got questions before I can finish the party planning. When should I expect you?”

  I could hear papers being rustled on the other side. “I’m leaving now. Marvin and Tina took off for a long weekend, so I’ll just put the phones on forward.”

  Wednesday was kind of early to be leaving for the weekend, but the fact that Marvin was out of town worked in Greg’s favor. He’d have to keep the prosecutor in the loop, but not the mayor. Which meant that maybe he’d even come home for dinner, or at least to sleep. Sometimes I thought Greg took his law enforcement duties just a little too seriously. But I had to admit, he was good at it.

  “See you in a few.” I disconnected and went into my office, where I’d stashed the box holding the materials and the almost-empty plastic tub that Amy had given me for the completed items. There weren’t any more completed than when I put the boxes away a couple of months ago. I’m really good at procrastinating when I don’t want to do something. Besides, the wedding was still three months away. I glanced at my wall calendar and turned the page. Okay, make that two months away.

  I just hoped we finished this today. I really needed to get at least one thing checked off my list. Too many items were building up. Especially things I wasn’t good at. And housework. Housecleaning—like mopping and cleaning surfaces—went on the list once a month and got checked off. Then the next month it went back on. Sometimes Greg and I took a weekend and went through the whole house. The good news is, we weren’t slobs, so it stayed pretty okay during the times in between. Unless Emma got into something. Then all bets were off.

  I took the boxes into the kitchen and got out treats I’d brought home from the shop. Then I made coffee. Greg wouldn’t be home for dinner. Maybe Amy would stay over and we could make a frozen pizza or something.

  Amy came in the back door, wedding binder in hand. At least it wasn’t as huge as my aunt’s. I was beginning to get a complex about all the wedding plans being made all around me. But then I’d think about how perfect our lives were right now and I’d push the thought away. Marriage meant babies. And more housecleaning, because babies would put anything in their mouths. And Emma; what would she do with a baby around? And what would it feel like to even be pregnant? I pushed all the worry questions away and went to greet my friend. She could deal with all those things first. Then I’d have a role model to ask questions.

  Maybe it was a coward’s way out of the fear, but I’d grab any lifeline in the storm.

  “Hey, Amy.” I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for coming by. I have to say, I don’t think I get how to make the decorations quite like you did.”

  She set down her stuff and glanced into the box. “It’s my fault really. I know how you are around crafts. You just don’t get it.”

  “I get it,” I shot back, but then I looked into the almost-empty box again. A box Amy had counted on me to fill months ago. “Okay, so I’m not crafty, sue me. I’ve got some ideas for your party, though.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed the notebook I’d started making notes in. “Like I said, I have a list of questions.”

  She pushed the planner book at me. “There’s a section on the party in there. Who I invited, who said yes, etc. I did some brainstorming with Justin a few weeks ago about what we might like to see. But don’t worry about him. Toby’s handling his party. Tim’s staying back to watch South Cove while Toby and Greg are gone for the weekend.”

  I took the book and started writing down her notes into my notebook. “Thanks, this really helps.”

  Amy plugged in two glue guns, then sat down with her own coffee. “I almost forgot. Are you okay? Esmeralda said Jackie was the one who called in the hit-and-run. But you were first on the scene, right?”

  “Yeah. Not my best memory.” I kept my head down and continued to write. “You know who it was, right? Frank Gleason? The history guy who was working on getting the wall certified as historic?”

  “No, Esmeralda didn’t know. She thought it was a tourist, not a local.” Amy started putting together the doodad for the table. Driftwood, shells, a piece of moss, and a sprinkling of sand made up the centerpiece. It was pretty, in a natural, classic way. Justin had wanted to add mini surfboards with their names on it with a heart. We still had them, just in case Amy changed her mind. “I guess this really wasn’t a good time to do this.”

  “Actually, it’s a great time. Greg’s off investigating the accident. So you being here and keeping me busy helps. I feel so bad for him. He was on his phone, talking to someone. Well, yelling at someone, when this truck just swung over and hit him.” I compared the two lists and then went through my questions to make sure there wasn’t something else. “I’m going to work on this a while, if that’s okay. Then I’ll help you finish up.”

  “That will work. I hate the fact he was angry when he passed. I bet whoever he was talking to feels really bad about the last words they had.” Amy adjusted the moss before adding the glue. “Passing over should be soft and easy. A natural path to the other side, as Esmeralda calls it. Not angry and violent.”

  I thought about Amy’s words as I went through the list of ideas I’d brainstormed for the party. Then I started researching available venues and costs. Amy turned on the stereo, and we worked for a couple of hours in the quiet. But something about what she’d said bothered me. Who had he been talking to and why were they fighting? Did it have anything to do with the lack of movement on the wall certification? I’d told Greg that Frank was going to change the status of the wall back to pending. But what had made him change it in the first place? Or had it been someone else? So many questions, not enough answers. I bookmarked the three choices I had for the party. I’d call the places tomorrow to make sure they could do what Amy wanted and then closed my laptop, moving it over to the kitchen desk. Then I turned the notebook to the back and started writing down everything I knew about Frank Gleason and his death.

  When I’d finished, I closed the notebook. Amy was watching me. “What?”

  “You’re investigating what happened to Frank, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged, standing up and putting the notebook on the desk with the computer. “Maybe I just wanted to write down some issues that don’t make sense. It’s not a real investigation.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” She pushed a piece of driftwood toward me. “Ten to go and we’ll be done. When we are, I’ll buy dinner at Lille’s.”

  The thought of fried chicken and mashed potatoes was a much better idea than frozen pizza, but I’d really have to run tomorrow. Eating out twice in one day wasn’t great for my diet. “Sound good. But it’s weird that the first-ever hit-and-run murder we have in South Cove is Frank, right?”

  “Weird stuff happens. That’s why I’m so excited to be starting my life with Justin. You never know when things are going to blow up on you.” She looked pointedly at me. “You need to live your best life now.”