Page 29 of Secrets in the Stacks

Archer paid the bill. He reached for the delivery bag, but Rarity picked it up instead. “You need to go back to work, which is the other way. You don’t have to walk me back. Thanks for lunch. I needed this.”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t eat before the book club was over, and I didn’t want you to have a sugar hangover with all those cookies.” He leaned down and kissed her when they got back on the street. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Rarity waved at him and turned, headed back to the store. When she dropped off the bag on the counter for Darby, the girl looked up at her warily. Rarity glanced at the bag. “What? Gabby said you ordered this.”

“I did. I was just wondering why you were humming.” Darby opened the bag to look inside.

Rarity smiled as she went to get Killer to take him outside. “Am I?”

* * * *

As usual, Shirley was the first to arrive for book club. And she brought a pie and cookies. When she saw Rarity’s look, she shrugged. “What can I say? I had free time this week. And when I’ve got things on my mind, I bake. The new fillings for the case notebooks are out in the car too. Darby, be a dear and run and get them.”

“You made investigation notebooks again?” Rarity moved the whiteboard that Darby had gotten out of the storage closet over to the fireplace.

Killer wandered over to where Shirley was setting up a treat table. He barked to get her attention.

“Of course, we have a new project. And I made a new one for Mr. Anderson.” Shirley leaned down and pulled something out of her jacket pocket. She handed Killer what looked like a cookie in the shape of a bone. “Of course I brought you something too.”

“Shirley, I hope you didn’t just make that out of the same cookie dough. He shouldn’t have that much sugar.” Rarity watched as Killer took the treat back to his bed.

“Ye of little faith. I found healthy dog biscuit recipes online and tried out a few. Killer’s been taste testing these for about a month. This recipe is the one he likes the most. I’ll write it down for you so you can check the ingredients.” Shirley went back to finishing the treat table. “Do we have coffee and lemonade?”

“I always do.” Rarity would have sent Darby to retrieve it, but she was outside, bringing in stuff from Shirley’s car. The shop phone rang at the same time. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, dear, I’ll watch the shop.”

Something about Shirley’s tone grated on Rarity, like she should have already had the beverages out and ready. Since Darby’s next task was supposed to be doing this, they would have been out there if Shirley hadn’t sent Rarity’s employee on a task for her. She took a deep breath. Why was she so out of sorts? Shirley was just being Shirley. And it didn’t matter who brought in the notebooks or set up the beverages, did it?

She picked up the phone. “The Next Chapter. May I help you?”

“Rarity? This is Jonathon. I just wanted you to know I can’t be there tonight. I’ve got a meeting with Martha’s lawyer about the property.”

“No worries. Shirley brought you a notebook of your own. I’ll leave it under the counter.” Rarity had forgotten about Jonathon attending the last meeting. “I hope everything’s going well.”

Jonathon groaned. “It’s Martha’s estate. You know it’s going to be a pain in the butt. I need to get going.”

After she hung up, Rarity felt better. She’d worked out her negative feelings about what Shirley had said without confronting the woman. Sometimes you just needed to realize it was you and not them. What had Archer said at lunch? Small towns? Maybe that was what was bothering her. The smothering nature of a small-town lifestyle. She loved it most days. Like talking to Terrance. And knowing what a customer would want to read just by seeing a new book. But it also came with some bad parts. Like everyone knowing your business.

She put the coffeemaker onto a cart along with more coffee, filters, and a large pitcher of water so they could make more coffee on the spot. Then she added hot and cold drink cups, sugar and creamer packets, and a box of stirrers. She also put a box of hot tea packets on the cart. They’d have to come into the break room to get hot water, at least until she bought a new carafe for the store. Then she got lemonade and a bowl she filled with ice and put them on the cart.

Darby ran into the kitchen. “I was supposed to do that.”

“It’s fine. I’m almost done. And besides, I needed to step away from Shirley. She was getting on my nerves,” Rarity admitted.

Darby reached over and grabbed a basket that held Thanksgiving-themed napkins. “She’s going through some things.”

Rarity had found the napkins at the store the last time she’d visited, so she’d bought some for the shop and a few for the house. She’d probably have enough leftovers to put them out next year too. Her brain finally translated Darby’s last sentence. “She’s going through some things. Like what?”

Darby dropped her gaze. “I told her I wouldn’t tell. She confided in me last weekend. She’s having problems with George and the placement. I slipped and told her that my grandmother had mentioned that Shirley had to move George into a memory center. That it must have been hard.”

“She talked about it?” Tears filled Rarity’s eyes. Shirley had been trying to ignore the fact that George wasn’t just out of the house shopping, he was in a facility.

“I guess the facility told her that her coming all the time was upsetting him. They asked her to limit her time. She’s been there almost twenty-four seven since he was admitted. Now they only want her to visit between one and five on weekdays. She has a little more access on weekends, but not much.” She glanced at the closed door to the front of the bookstore. “She knows it’s better for both of them, but she feels so guilty not being there. So give her a little slack, would you?”

Shame ran through Rarity’s body. She’d been grumpy because Shirley had been a little touchy. Maybe she needed something she could control in her life. Rarity pushed away the feeling, because this wasn’t about her, it was about Shirley. “Maybe we should do something for her. Like a group spa day. Or we could all go out to dinner?”

“I think she’d love that. After the investigation is done. You know how busy everyone’s weeks are without us digging to see if we can find a killer.”

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