Spell Bound, page 21
“Oh, I’ll just give you one. Don’t be silly.”
I shook my head. “I think you give me more than enough at the Amy discounted rate.” I laughed again. “Besides, I want to support you. Let me buy one.”
She flushed a little, and I could tell she wanted to argue, but finally she said, “Okay, fine. But I’m filling it with a free latte, and you can’t stop me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“How was your trip up to Barneswood the other day?”
I let out my breath in one long stream. The last time I’d spoken to Amy had been Friday before Rich and I hit the road, and it felt like a million years had passed since then. So much had happened I barely knew where to start.
I quickly gave her the highlights—of talking to Franny, what I’d learned about Keely, of attending the funeral, and then my harrowing experience on the highway coming home Saturday afternoon. I tried to lighten the mood by telling her about my yard, but her mouth was hanging open with a stricken expression glued to her face.
“Someone tried to kill you,” she squeaked.
“I know, or at least they really wanted to scare me.”
There was a small line of tears dotting her eyelashes, and her lower lip trembled. “I can’t believe you’re being so calm about it. I’d be an absolute wreck.” She lifted the divider that split the employee area from the customer section and wrapped me up in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Amy smelled like sugar and lemon and gave one of the best hugs I’d ever experienced, almost good enough to give Leo a run for his money. I felt comforted, and it made me smile to know how much she cared about me and how much my experience had impacted her.
“Hey.” I patted her back gently and she pulled away, swiping at an errant tear that trickled down her cheek. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m too tough for some jerk in an SUV to take out like that. I’m basically a Formula One driver.”
That made her laugh, and her spirits seemed to be lifted as she returned to her side of the counter and started making my morning chocolate hazelnut latte. The boxes of my regular delivery were on the counter beside her, and I could see a happy sun drawn in black marker on the top of the box.
When she was done prepping my drink, she put it and the boxes between us and rested her elbows on the counter, putting her chin in her palms thoughtfully. “You know, thinking about everything you said, it’s a bit odd that that Keely woman would sell everything, isn’t it? If you inherited a fully furnished mansion, stocked to the gills with nice art, jewelry, and all those lovely things, why would you sell everything off?”
“Maybe it wasn’t her taste.”
Amy hemmed and hawed, then shook her head. “No, to me it sort of sounds like she’s liquidating assets, trying to make a quick buck. I wonder if she has major debts or there’s someone in her family that needs money. Medical issues, something like that. I think the only reason someone at that age sells off a whole estate is because they want the cash.”
I considered this. Part of me had thought that Keely just disliked Mr. Weatherly’s family and wanted to make sure there was no way they could get their hands on the physical parts of his estate. But Amy was right: the more obvious thing would be that she just wanted the money.
But for what?
It was no small amount of money, and for someone who seemed to come from wealth, if her car was any indication, I had to wonder what could make her so desperate for cash that she’d sell everything her supposedly beloved former boss had owned.
“That’s certainly something to consider,” I said.
“Except you’re not going to consider it, right? After the text, and the car? You’re going to leave the investigating to the professionals?”
I sipped my latte.
“I promise I’ll stay out of trouble.”
She gave me a look that very clearly said she knew I would do no such thing.
Chapter Thirty-One
Imogen arrived at five minutes before ten, as usual, and except for old Mr. Loughery, there was no one else in the store. I figured I would take the reprieve before the lunch rush and drop my car off at the mechanic.
As I’d never needed to take my car in for any kind of work, it was my first trip to Al’s Garage, a squat little building that looked like someone had taken an old double-wide trailer and stuck a garage on one side. When I wandered into the little lobby, though, I knew Al was going to be my kind of person.
Every single window was filled with plants. And there were a lot of windows, because what might have once been a living room had been turned into a proper waiting area, complete with several chairs and a beat-up coffeemaker that had half a pot still in it from the morning.
The plants were incredible, though. There was a gigantic cactus that overwhelmed its terra-cotta planter, and a Christmas cactus in full bloom even though it was the middle of May. There were palms, and more cacti, and a massive fiddle-leaf fig that reached the ceiling. As someone who had killed a fiddle-leaf fig once, I knew how finicky they could be. Mine had died because I moved it ten feet, to the opposite side of a room.
They were very dramatic plants, but Al seemed to have quite the green thumb.
A small man in his late sixties appeared from a back room, adjusting his little half-moon glasses. He wore a navy-blue jumpsuit with a name tag on one side that had Al stitched in bright red letters. The man himself.
“Hi, I’m Phoebe Winchester. I left you a message over the weekend about my car?” I hoped he wasn’t one of those people who just ignored voice mail messages.
“Ah, yes, the police told me about your situation. They were pretty adamant I collect any extra paint from the door. Just in case.” He gave me a quick once-over, I think to assess whether or not I’d been injured in the accident. Seeing that there was nothing worth mentioning on my person, he jerked his chin toward the front door.
“Let’s go have a look, then.”
Outside, I showed him the driver’s side door, and he made a handful of hmm and mm-hmm noises, bobbing his head with some frequency and adjusting his glasses several times to get a better look at the door. He opened and closed it, peered at some mechanisms inside, and finally said, “Gonna need it a couple days. I’ll have to replace the door, gotta see what I can find locally. If I need to order it in, I’ll let you take ’er back for the time being, but if I can get a decent one at the junkyard, that’ll do.”
While I didn’t love the idea of a junkyard door, I had to assume he knew what he was doing.
“Paint from the dealer might take a bit, so you might have a mismatched door for a while. Hope ya don’t mind.”
I shrugged. “I’m not trying to win any beauty contests with it.”
“Mm-hmm.” He didn’t laugh but gave the car a pat on the roof as if to apology to her for my poor attempt at humor. “You’re at Eudora’s old place, right?”
“Yeah, she was my aunt.”
“Mm-hmm. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” And with that, Al headed back inside with my keys, our business here done for the time being.
It was a good thing this was such a small town; otherwise I’d have been pretty put out about him taking my car without offering me a loaner, or even a ride back to the Earl’s Study. I kicked myself for not thinking of putting my bike in the trunk. I hiked my purse up on my shoulder and gave thanks to the Washington weather gods that it was such a lovely, rain-free day, because otherwise this would have been a real bummer.
I was a few blocks away from Al’s place and almost back to Main Street when an obnoxious honking sound caused me to turn around and see who was behind me. When I did, my heart sank, and I immediately began looking for places to hide.
The little red Honda pulled over to the curb and had barely stopped rolling when Dierdre Miller popped out. Her fake-red hair dye was almost the same color as her car, and she was wearing the biggest faux movie star sunglasses I had ever seen.
“Phoebe Winchester, just the woman I was looking for.” Her voice was bright, pretending to be happy to see me, but she and I both knew she wouldn’t be on the lookout for me unless she wanted something.
“Dierdre, good morning.”
“Playing hooky from work?” she teased.
I looked at her like she’d grown antlers. Dierdre was not in the habit of making jokes, or if she was, she wasn’t in the habit of making them with me. Something was definitely fishy here.
“I had to drop my car off at Al’s.”
“Oh yes, we’ve all heard about that dreadful incident. I’m so relieved you’re all right.” Her hand went to her chest in an effort to look properly horrified by my near-death experience.
Maybe she was wearing the glasses to help make this little performance more believable.
I also couldn’t believe how quickly gossip spread in this town. I’d told a few people, but I doubted it had been Honey, Amy, or Imogen who had told others. The battered car door and the police presence had likely gotten the locals buzzing, and some way or another they’d stumbled over the story. Guess I’d been wrong to assume they wouldn’t jump to the most dramatic conclusion.
There wouldn’t be a soul in Raven Creek who didn’t know about my brush with death by the time the day was done, especially if Dierdre knew. Her work might be selling real estate, but her business was everyone else’s.
“The car got the worst of it.” I stared at her, and she fidgeted uncomfortably. Part of me wanted to draw this out a bit longer just to make her feel as uneasy as possible, but I needed to get back to the shop and prep for the lunch rush. “Do you need something, Dierdre?”
“Well …” She wrung her hands, looking anywhere but at me, fidgeting as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words right. It wasn’t like Dierdre to be at a loss for words, so I savored it for a moment. “You know we’ve been discussing those alterations to your bookshop.”
“Not alterations. There won’t be any physical changes to the building. I just want to add a small kennel area where I can host a couple of adoptable cats.” I had explained this in depth in my proposal, and also earlier this week at the council meeting, but I wasn’t sure how much of what I said was getting through to her. She always made it sound like I was planning to add a new wing to the store. The Earl’s Study already took up two stores’ worth of space; we didn’t need more. We couldn’t continue to expand if we wanted to either, because the Sugarplum Fairy was on one side, and the cute plant store The Green Thumb was on our right. They were both good tenants, and thanks to the low fixed rent, they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
I just wanted to help find cats a new home, and Dierdre was trying to make it into a shady capitalist endeavor.
I felt like this was about to turn into the same fight we’d been having for months, and I really didn’t have the patience or energy for it at the moment.
“Dierdre, if you’re just here to tell me no again, I’m sure it can wait until next month. I really do need to get back to the store.”
She shook her head, which was surprising enough to make me plant my feet and give her a few more moments of my time.
“No, no. After the meeting we reviewed your proposal again, and as much as it pains me to say it, you’ve completed all the appropriate paperwork, and the kennels are far enough away from your kitchen to remain health code compliant.” She let out a long sigh. “I thought I might as well be the one to tell you that at the next meeting we’ll be granting you approval to go ahead with things.”
I couldn’t help it; my mouth fell open in shock, and I waited one second, then two, for a but to come from her, yet nothing did. For almost six months I’d been fighting with them, filling out one set of papers, then filling out another when they decided those weren’t the right papers, and going to every town council meeting so they could see I was an active and enthusiastic part of the community. They didn’t need landlord approvals, because Eudora had owned the shop outright, so now I did as well. I’d done everything to the letter and had begun to think they were going to continue denying me out of spite just because of my history with Dierdre.
She did have a lot of sway with the town council, I had to admit. I thought the mayor sided with her on a lot of things simply to avoid having to argue with her.
Yet here she was, standing in front of me giving me the one thing I wanted most … as what? A peace offering? No, she wanted something; otherwise, she would have just waited a month until the next meeting.
“Well, that’s wonderful news, Dierdre, thank you. I know the shelter will be thrilled. They’re usually overflowing with cats, and I think we can help find homes for some very deserving animals.”
She wrinkled up her nose, obviously not very interested in animals or helping them. Not a real shocker.
We stood in silence for a beat. She continued to fidget, so I knew there was more to this, but I wasn’t going to drag it out of her. If she wanted something, she was a grown woman; she could ask.
I glanced back at my fitness tracker, which functioned mostly as my watch. It was getting close to eleven, and I really needed to be prepping our toast of the day.
I was about to say as much when Dierdre cleared her throat. She threw back her shoulders as if to give herself the illusion of courage and spoke at last.
“I would …” She stopped again, chewed on her lip a moment, then restarted. “I would like to rent Owen’s old shop.”
Of all the things she could have said to me in that moment, this one was at the bottom of the list of what I might have expected. Dierdre was one of the few people who knew about me owning the buildings in town, a secret she actually had managed to keep to herself, mostly because telling anyone about it wouldn’t hurt me but give me more power than her.
The shoe store next to the plant shop had been vacant for over six months, thanks to the previous owner being locked up for murder and no one in his family stepping in to take over the shop before its lease was up for renewal. And while one or two applicants had requested the space, the council had rejected their requests, deeming their businesses not suitable for Main Street. They’d still found space in town. One was a hemp-themed store, now two doors down from New Moon. The other was a cookie maker, and we had felt that would be too many shops selling baked goods in one stretch. They were now a few steps away from the pet store and had even come to an arrangement to bake and sell dog-friendly biscuits in Charlie’s shop. So it had all worked out, and yet the little store remained vacant.
“You want to rent the shop? What for?” She had her own real estate office one block off Main already and couldn’t possibly want to pony up the higher rent for a different location, when she should know better than anyone that no one was coming to Main Street to buy houses. Her office was fine where it was.
She shook her head. “No, you see, my nephew is coming to town this summer. Moving here. And I’d like to help him secure a space for his business before he arrives. In speaking to Mountain View, they told me all rental approvals would need to come from their CEO.” She gave me a meaningful look, or at least her eyebrows did from over the sunglasses.
“Well, I’m not going to agree until I see a business plan, but what kind of shop would he be opening?”
“He makes soaps and candles, all using natural ingredients, most sourced locally.” She whipped out her phone the moment I sounded even remotely interested and handed it to me. I was moderately surprised Dierdre knew what Instagram was, but lo and behold, here was her nephew’s page.
Briar and Pine Candle Co.
Their social media was tidy and aesthetic, and they had a huge number of followers. The products all looked cute and well packaged, and while New Moon sold candles, they didn’t have anything quite like this.
The old shoe store wasn’t a gigantic space, but I knew there was a workroom in the back, somewhere that this nephew would have room to make his wares. I also happened to know that the apartment above the shop had recently been vacated and no one had moved in yet.
“This looks really nice, Dierdre. I’m assuming if you’re asking me about it, you’ve already got the approval of the rest of the council.” Sort of shady of her to get that before asking me, but it was classic Dierdre.
“Yes, and I can drop off a copy of the business plan at the Earl’s Study this afternoon if you’d like to see it.”
“Please.” It was one thing to look good on social media, but if I was going to rent prime real estate to this nephew sight unseen, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to close his doors before Christmas came around. We were a pretty tight community here, and vacancies on Main were rare. I wanted to keep it that way. “And I’m sure you know the apartment is available as well.” I raised my eyebrow at her. Obviously, as a real estate agent, she would know about all the local rental opportunities.
“Yes. He’ll be staying with me when he arrives, and I’ll let him make the decisions on where he wants to move, but I will definitely be mentioning that location to him.”
“I hear the landlord is very fair.” I offered her my hand, and for a second she flinched, like I might be grabbing at her, but when she settled, she shook my hand gratefully, her palm damp and her grip loose.
“Drop that business plan off, and if it all looks good, I’d be more than happy to rent the space to him. It sounds like a lovely business. But if you don’t mind, I really need to get back to the store.”
Dierdre nodded several times. “Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate it.”
Words I’d never thought I’d hear come my way from the mouth of Dierdre Miller.
Maybe today was going to be a good day.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I didn’t have any time to dwell on Dierdre’s request, or my car accident. Once I got back to the shop, things were already starting to pick up, with Imogen handling a small line of customers. I immediately ducked into the kitchen to get everything ready for lunch.
I cut several loaves of sourdough into slices. Today’s offerings were a plain sourdough with ricotta—blended with local honey— slices of prosciutto, and the fresh peaches I’d gotten from the garden center the previous day. It was all topped with fresh black pepper and had the perfect balance of sweet and savory.
