Page 20 of Secrets in the Stacks

Sam was waiting at the shop when Rarity arrived. She took Killer’s leash and let him sniff out his turf while Rarity opened the bookstore door. “Are you all right? Drew told me what happened. I can’t believe someone was in the house with you guys.”

“It’s too big of a house for Darby to be there alone. And now, no one can find her parents. What on earth is going on with that family? I thought I’d call Archer later and see if he has a current number or if he’s tried to reach out. He’s friends with Jeff, Darby’s dad.” Rarity turned on the lights and flipped over the closed sign.

Sam followed her inside. “I’m concerned about Shirley staying there with Darby.”

“Me too, but are you going to tell Shirley she’s too old?” Rarity took Killer’s leash from Sam and unclicked his collar. The little dog ran to his bed and settled in. Rarity laughed. “Killer’s happy that his world is back to normal.”

“At least someone’s life is. Did Darby go to school?” Sam followed Rarity to the counter and pulled up one of the stools that Rarity now kept behind the counter for use when friends stopped by to chat. “Do you want me to make coffee?”

“Please. I’m not used to only getting four hours. I’m going to be dead tired tonight, and Archer wants to have dinner. And yeah, Darby went to class.” Rarity settled in for her day, checking the register to make sure she had enough cash to give change for a twenty. Most of her sales were by card, but occasionally, she needed cash for a transaction. Like the guy who’d bought the book and then promptly lost it. It was still sitting under the counter.

When Sam came out of the kitchen with two steaming cups and a plate filled with cookies, she settled on one of the stools and took a sugar cookie.

“Did Drew tell you that someone was looking for one of Catherine’s books? I think they might have thought she still had the first editions. Like she’d keep them out on a shelf.”

“First editions?”

Rarity told Sam about the valuables in the safe and how, now, it was pretty much empty. “At least she has enough money to finish college. And she’ll get a ton if she sells the house. But I think right now, she just needs to act like nothing’s changed in her world. It’s going to be hard enough getting over the loss of her grandmother.”

“We should go to the funeral. Do we know when it will be?”

Rarity wrote down the question. “I’ll ask Darby when she comes in to meet up with Malia. I think she’s trying to reach her folks first before setting a date, but she might have to just have it without them.”

“It must be hard to not have anyone to talk with.” Sam chose a second cookie.

Rarity sipped her coffee. “She has people to talk with. She has us.”

After Sam left, Rarity went over to the shelf where she’d found the Cheryl Jackson books. She checked the copyright page for both. Same publisher. And bonus, she actually had a contact at the publisher. A salesman came to visit her at least twice a year and brought her catalogue. She’d heard about the publishing salesmen, but she’d thought they were a rumor from back in the day when a personal touch sold books. Now, Jennifer’s sales area was huge, but the woman was real, and even if she didn’t visit once a month, she kept in touch by email. Rarity crafted a quick email asking for any current information on Cheryl Jackson.

Jennifer’s response was quick. Rarity must have found her in the office for once.

She read the email and sighed. Quick meant little if the response was just, I haven’t heard about her. Jennifer had promised to check with the publishing office and see if she could track down her editor or publicist. Rarity responded and added the fact that she wanted to see if the elusive Ms. Jackson would do an in-person signing.

She didn’t get a response to that, but she hadn’t thought she would. Her second email was just adding details to the first, and Jennifer had already told her she’d have to look into the author.

Jennifer was a busy woman. With that conversation off her list, she went through the rest of her to-dos, stopping when a customer would wander into the store. For a Thursday, she had a lot of walk-ins. A few locals came in, and one harried mother of three asked if she had a story hour for kids. It was a good idea, one she hadn’t thought of before. Maybe she could turn over the development of the idea to Darby. It would give her something fun to do and hopefully keep her mind off her loss.

When Darby arrived close to four, Rarity waved her over to the counter. “I haven’t had a break for food. Can you watch the register while I run to the Garnet? Do you want something?”

“Actually, a mocha would be awesome. Malia and I are hitting the Garnet when she gets here, so I don’t want to eat anything.” She slipped off her coat.

Rarity noticed her eyes were hooded. Darby needed a good night’s sleep as much as Rarity did. “Okay. I’m starving, and all I’ve had is cookies today. I’m getting a sandwich.”

She told Killer to be good and headed outside to the sunshine. She waved at Madame Zelda, who was sitting on the bench outside her storefront. Then she hurried across the street to get food.

When she returned, eating french fries as she walked back to the store, Madame Zelda waved her over. “Crap,” Rarity muttered as she folded the bag closed. When she got closer, she smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. And I won’t keep you long. I just wanted you to tell Darby how sorry I am about Catherine.” She glanced at her watch and stood. “I’ve got a reading soon, or I’d come over myself. Just let her know I’ll be at the funeral when she schedules it.”

Rarity watched as Madame Zelda disappeared into her store. Apparently, the woman knew everyone in town. Which probably was true. Sedona was a small town. And Catherine Doyle had lived here a while.

She frowned as she made her way over to the bookstore’s front door. Too many questions had started plaguing her. How long had Catherine Doyle lived in Sedona? Maybe that was part of the story that was missing?

Darby was working with a customer when Rarity walked in, but she nodded when Rarity held up the coffee cup. She snapped her fingers, and Killer followed her into the break room. As she set out her late lunch, she grabbed a notebook and started writing down her questions. Last night’s break-in had to be about a book. Or a hidden safe that Darby didn’t know about. But if Catherine had a second safe, wouldn’t she leave that information with her will in the first safe? It was kind of like having a bank account but never telling anyone about it.

Of course, people did that all the time. But not someone like Catherine, who actually had a will and had thought about how to take care of Darby if something happened to her. No, from what Rarity could see, Catherine planned ahead. So the break-in had to be about one of the books. Rarity didn’t think Darby was going to stand to have the group uproot their lives to do a second week of sleepovers. Rarity just needed to tell her she wanted to look at the books.

She’d offered to buy some of the library. If Darby was considering selling some of them to the bookstore Rarity could make a list and then an offer. If there was another first edition hidden in the stacks in plain sight, Rarity could find it. Which would take the book out of the house and make Darby safe. Except she’d only be safe if the killer knew Rarity was reviewing them.

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