Books of Intrigue, page 1
Elodie Hart
Books of Intrigue
Copyright © 2023 by Elodie Hart
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 1
“Almost there,” Harper muttered, holding her breath.
Any little movement could make the stack of books fall over and then she would have to start from the beginning.
“You know, we could have gone with a simpler design,” Martin Hayworth said as he watched her carefully from behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“That wouldn’t be any fun,” she said, smiling up at him before focusing on the books again.
As the head librarian, he was the one in charge but he let Harper have her way with a lot of things since moving to the island. That included book displays at the public library.
Being one of the only two professional librarians on Marilee Island off the coast of Southern California, Harper Lansbury took pride in her work. Creating book displays was something she loved to do whether it was for summer reads, Halloween spooky stories, or new acquisitions to the library.
Besides, it was a small library and they didn’t have much work cut out for them at the moment. Being the only library on a small island meant there were quite a few days with a lot of downtime. Today was one of those days.
That suited Harper just fine. She could finish the display and then head home to prepare for the book club meeting.
Five years ago, Harper inherited her grandmother’s beach cottage on the island and a good portion of her wealth. After some difficulties in her hometown of Los Angeles, Harper decided to move to the island full-time. The small library on the island had an opening for a librarian and she jumped at the chance.
She spent every summer on the island while she was growing up. The turquoise waters met white sandy shores and offered a sense of peace and tranquility she could never find on the mainland. The mild Mediterranean climate meant that it was tourist season year-round even if they did have a few weeks of cloudy and rainy weather during the winter months.
Moving from LA to Marilee Island had been the best choice she could make. It was a fresh start and she could leave behind the bad memories in LA. It also meant a slower pace of life, something she had always longed for.
“Done,” she breathed out as she stepped back from the display with her hands held out at her sides so she wouldn’t bump the table.
“Impressive. I’m glad you’re the one in charge of the display tables,” Martin said, smiling at her.
Martin was a kind older man who had been at the library for decades. He was born and raised on Marilee Island and rarely ever left. His salt-and-pepper hair gave away his age but his kind blue eyes held wisdom only found from practically living in a library for most of his life.
“Meow!” Pippin cried from his spot on the counter where he had been watching her.
“Don’t you dare knock it over,” Harper warned him.
Pippin was a sleek black cat with green eyes and a mischievous personality, hence the name. A few years ago, he sneaked into the library unnoticed and would leave “presents” on the front desk. People would report hearing sad meowing noises but Harper knew they didn’t have a cat so she chalked it up to the wind on the island. When Harper was cataloging new books one day, he nearly scared her out of her skin when he started rubbing against her ankles and meowing pitifully.
She took him to the veterinarian clinic and found out he just wanted a home and some food. Everyone at the library agreed that he should stay and become the cat librarian. Now he had a nice warm bed, bowls of food and water, and would proudly greet people whenever they walked into the library.
“Did you two hear what happened?” Rebecca “Reb” Devon said as she ran inside the library holding three coffees precariously in a cup holder.
“No running in the library,” Martin said gruffly, smiling slightly that he was able to use his librarian voice on one of his staff.
Reb rolled her eyes and slowed down. She had worked as an assistant librarian for as long as Harper could remember, even back when Harper was a teen visiting the island during summer break from school. She seemed to know everything that happened around the island and it looked like she had big news now.
“I saw Lorena Westwood back on the island,” Reb said, putting her hands on her plump hips.
Harper frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Because she’s Nick Fortuna’s ex-wife. You weren’t living on the island when they went through that nasty divorce,” Martin said.
“I think I remember her from when I was younger. Was she always dressed to the nines and wearing really heavy perfume?” Harper asked, tucking her short brown hair behind her ears.
Reb snapped her fingers. “That’s her. Anyway, she’s on the island and she’s looking at real estate.”
“You mean she’s moving back?”
Reb shrugged, her blonde bob shaking with the movement. “Why else would she look at real estate?”
“I’m surprised she could afford it. She didn’t get much out of the divorce,” Martin mused.
“Why not?” Harper asked.
“Infidelity. It was a clause in the prenuptial contract she and Nick signed. If either of them cheated, they would forfeit any monetary value from a divorce. She cheated with multiple men, so she got nothing,” Reb said.
“I’m a bit worried about how you know so much,” Harper said, eyeing her warily.
Reb shrugged. “It was a very loud, very messy divorce. Everyone knows about it.”
“Maybe she’s back on the island so they can reconcile,” Harper suggested.
Martin looked uncertain and Reb outright snorted at that.
“The way Lorena left town makes me find that hard to believe,” Reb said. “Lorena did everything in her power to revoke the prenup agreement and try to make it void, vowing to come back and ruin Nick if it was the last thing she did.”
“Those are pretty strong words,” Harper said.
“Which means the next few weeks should be interesting,” Reb said, sipping her coffee.
“And the library will fall apart if we don’t get back to work,” Martin said, shooing them both away to do their duties.
Harper worried about what Reb said. They already had one recent murder on the island. Could they really handle whatever explosion was about to rock the boat?
The rest of the day, she pushed thoughts of marital problems from her mind and focused on her work. She had plenty to keep her hands busy and that included the mental preparations for the book club later that night.
When her shift came to an end, Harper waved goodbye to Martin and Reb.
“Have fun at your book club,” Martin said, waving her off.
“See you on Monday,” she called back.
Moving the kickstand out of the way, Harper pulled her sunny yellow beach cruiser bicycle out of the bike rack. Now that the weather had turned from cool winter weather to warmer spring weather, she could ride her bike to work.
As she hopped on the bike and put her foot on the pedal to take off, she saw someone at the book drop-off donation box. Surprise hit her when she recognized Nick Fortuna, the wealthy old man in his mid-sixties whose ex-wife just returned to the island. Harper didn’t have many interactions with him, but he’d always been kind to her. From what she knew, Nick had quite the collection of books—both modern and old books.
That was one more book the library could offer to the public for free. Most of their donations came from local hotels when tourists left books behind, so it was nice to see an island resident contributing to the public library.
“Thanks for the donation, Mr. Fortuna,” she called out, waving to him as she rode past.
She had a book club meeting to get to.
Chapter 2
Pulling up to her beach cottage, Harper hopped off her bike and pulled it up on the porch so it would be out of the way. The light blue cottage with a white trim sat sandwiched between a soft yellow cottage on one side and a bright green one on the other. Each residential street was a rainbow sensation of various colored cottages and bungalows. Grandma Angie loved the light blue color and Harper always loved the way it looked in her childhood so she kept it the same when she moved in.
The interior, on the other hand, needed some work when she moved to the isla
Stepping inside, she breathed in the slight lavender scent that permeated the air. That was Harper’s favorite scent besides books and she regularly burned lavender candles to relax after a day of work. With the house closed up during the day, the scent hit her in the face when she walked in the door.
A cozy living room opened up to a small dining nook and kitchen. The other end of the cottage held three bedrooms—the master suite, an office, and a guest bedroom. To the back, Harper was lucky enough to have a decent-sized backyard with a deck for entertaining. In this case, it was the book club.
Officially, the book club was called Wines and Spines. Unofficially, it was Wines, Spines, and Crimes after they tried to solve the last murder a couple of months ago.
Of course, only the book club members knew about the slight name change.
They would be at her cottage in half an hour, so she had to get a wiggle on if everything was going to be ready by then.
White curtains billowed in the slight breeze at the open French doors that led out to the deck. Harper went through carrying six wine glasses. Teak furniture sat on the back deck, covered in teal and yellow cushions and pillows for a spark of color. Bistro lights strung back and forth across the yard and around the deck to provide ambient lighting.
A small bar cart sat underneath a window looking into the cottage. On the other side of the deck stood a table where they would set the food. Tonight it would be a charcuterie board of whatever meat, cheese, bread, and other delights the rest of the group brought. Once every few months they had a big shindig in the backyard or at someone’s house, but for the weekly meetings there wasn’t a set menu.
“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?” a voice called out.
“On the deck, Bernie,” said Harper.
Bernadette “Bernie” Alcott was the eldest member of the group, being in her mid-sixties. Big bug-eye sunglasses sat on top of her head, cushioned by the silver pixie hairstyle that framed her face. Bernie didn’t believe in dyeing her hair, saying that silver hair was a sign of a long, eventful life.
Bernie set a platter of various cold-cut meats down on the table and shuffled over to the sofa to drop down on it.
“My dear, the first few chapters of the book were so delightful I couldn’t put it down,” Bernie said, pressing her hand to her heart for dramatic effect.
“It was rather interesting, wasn’t it?” Harper asked.
“Interesting? They were swooped into another dimension. Exhilarating, I’d say.”
Science fiction wasn’t their usual source of reading material, but they’d agreed to try a fiction book that was a top pick of a national reading list. This month they were reading Paradise by CJ Griffin. Instead of letting one person have the say in what they read like they usually did, they gave each book on that list a number and drew it out of a hat.
“Harper? Are you out back?” another voice called out.
“On the deck, Libby,” she said.
Libby Hernandez owned and operated the best café in all of Marilee Island—Bouncing Beans. It was conveniently located right next door to the library, so Harper could easily get her caffeine fix whenever she went to work. Libby was from the island and had been Harper’s summer friend every year, and was more than happy to welcome her to the island full-time.
All the ladies knew to just come inside and not bother knocking. If they did, Harper would be rushing back and forth from the deck to the front door.
“I found this new goat cheese wrapped in a blueberry compote that we just have to try,” Libby said, opening her reusable grocery bag to take out five different kinds of cheese with a couple of boxes of crackers, tossing her long black braid over her shoulder so it was out of the way.
“That sounds delicious,” Kat said as she joined them and pulled out two bags of artisan bread along with apricot chutney and strawberry jam.
Katherine “Kat” Roland was one of the island’s only veterinarians. At thirty-six, she was just two years older than both Libby and Harper. She was the most fashionable veterinarian Harper had ever seen, wearing trendy fashion found in magazines.
“And we have the wine,” said Dana Whitby as she came outside with Sasha Orwell in tow.
Dana was a local artist and usually had flecks of paint smudged on her hands from a day of sitting in her studio or painting on the beach for inspiration. She was in her mid-sixties like Bernie. No matter the weather or event, Dana wore a turban hat from ‘60s Hollywood. Tonight it was a sunny yellow one.
On the other hand, Sasha was normally quite reserved and shy—unless it came to wine or books. She ran a bed and breakfast with her husband now that their children were all grown up and off on their own. She was smack in the middle of all of them in terms of age in her early fifties but tended to lean closer to Dana and Bernie.
“And I have dessert. I made a double-layer carrot cake last night,” Harper said.
“How divine!” Bernie gasped.
“Everyone, fill your wine glass and a plate so we can get this party started,” Libby called out.
The book club was officially starting. Every week, they met to discuss the chapters from their reading. They read one book per month and divided it by chapters to fit the month.
Harper poured Cabernet sauvignon into her wine glass before she filled up her plate with food and sat in a chair facing the others. She had arranged the seating in a circle for their meeting.
“You’ll never guess what I found out,” Bernie said, leaning forward and wiggling her fingers at everyone to come closer as she set her food plate aside.
“Is it about Nick and Lorena?” asked Libby, sipping her wine.
“You heard about them, too?” Harper asked.
“Oh hush, you two. I’m talking about something much more important,” Bernie said.
“We’ll come back to this,” Harper told Libby and then turned back to Bernie. “Go on, then. What did you find out?”
Bernie’s blue eyes lit up in excitement and she clapped her hands to her bosom, saying, “That our dear, beloved, oh-so-handsome Viking detective does not have a girlfriend, an ex-wife, or a secret love child hidden away.”
“How very interesting! That means Harper has a good chance with him,” Dana said, winking at Harper. “But I’ll happily be his second choice.”
Everyone laughed at the thought of stoic Marc dating Dana. They would certainly make quite the couple.
At the thought of Marc, little butterflies fluttered to life in her stomach. A couple of months ago, Marc Andersen moved to the island as the newest detective on the small police force. He and Harper ran into each other during a murder investigation and butted heads at every turn, ending with a truce and a slightly flirtatious note. That flirtatious exchange could have been her imagination entirely since nothing had happened since then.
“I barely even see him, so I don’t think there’s much hope for that,” Harper said.
It was true. He may live across the street from her, but they were like two ships passing in the night.
“We’ll have to do something about that,” Bernie said, turning a conspiratorial glance to Dana.
“Or we could discuss the book for this week,” Harper suggested.
“What about Lorena and Nick? We need to talk about them,” Libby said.
Harper waved her hand and sighed. Gossip would always come before the book discussion. After five years, she knew this very well.
“I think she’s back for revenge,” Dana said.
“She always had it in her,” Bernie said, nodding in agreement.
“Maybe she’s changed. It’s been several years since the divorce,” Harper suggested.
“You didn’t see it. That woman was livid when she left the island,” Libby said.
“At the library, Reb said she was looking at real estate.”
Dana pointed at her and said, “That proves it. She’s back with a plan.”
“It is a bit odd that she would return, especially after promising she would never set foot on the island again,” Sasha mentioned as she spread cheese over a cracker.
“So why would she come back?” Kat asked.
