Once Upon a Thriller (Nancy Drew Diaries #4)(13)

I headed to Paige’s Pages bookstore first. It was still closed, of course, but I was hoping Paige might be around cleaning up after the fire. The store was locked up tightly, though, and there was still police crime-scene tape across the front door.

I headed around to the back of the store, where a woman with dark, graying hair in a messy bun was loading large trash bags into a white pickup truck. I recognized her immediately as the woman from the grocery store—Paige.

I cleared my throat softly and she whirled around, clutching her chest.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You scared me. Can I help you?”

“My name is Nancy Drew, and I’m on assignment for the River Heights Bugle,” I introduced myself, holding out my hand. “Are you the owner of the bookstore?”

She studied me carefully, taking in my notebook, sunglasses, and reddish-blond hair.

“Have I met you before?” she asked, genuinely perplexed. “Have you been to my store?”

I figured she might recognize me from the grocery store, and it seemed like the best thing to do was just fess up.

“I think our paths crossed at the grocery store on Saturday,” I admitted. “You dropped a slip of paper and I handed it back to you.”

She smiled.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied. “Thank you for that. And I apologize if I was abrupt. I was a bit out of sorts that day, with the fire and everything. I still am today, I’m afraid. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

She wiped her hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand, and I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Then she said, “I know the investigators said it may be arson, but who would do such a thing? We’re a quiet town, with law-abiding citizens. This is quite disturbing.”

I thought back to my busy night and didn’t blame her for not being able to sleep much, given what she had been through.

She took my hand and shook it firmly. “I’m Paige Samuels,” she said.

“I realize it must be difficult, but I’d like to speak with you for a few minutes about the fire,” I explained. “I’m doing a story about a few crimes that have taken place around town over the last few days.”

“A few crimes?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know there were others.”

I nodded. “There was a theft in town Saturday as well, and sightings of an intruder near Moon Lake last night. I think the crimes may be related. Do you have a minute to talk?”

Paige nodded. “Let me just put this last bag of trash in the back of my truck and then we can grab a coffee at the diner. The firefighters let me bag up some debris on Saturday before they began their investigation. I figure there’s still plenty more to do inside the store, but for now, I may as well clear away as much of this trash as I can.”

“No problem,” I said. “Should I meet you there in about fifteen minutes?”

Paige nodded. “Sure, that works.”

I got back in my car, drove up the street, and parked in the lot across from the Avondale Diner. Standing on the curb, I quickly glanced to the left and right before stepping into the crosswalk.

Suddenly a black car raced around the corner, tires squealing, heading straight for me!





CHAPTER SEVEN





Close Call


THE CAR SWERVED TO THE left just as I jumped to the right, landing in a planter full of impatiens. The flowers managed to cushion most of my fall, though my right thigh was somewhat scraped and bruised from where it hit the edge of the planter.

Slowly I stood up, and as I brushed myself off, I saw that the black car had screeched to a stop and pulled over to the curb ahead. A man and a woman got out and approached me hurriedly. The woman was tiny and wore an oversize hat and sunglasses. The man, in a dark, ill-fitting suit, was extremely tall. Both were pale and looked completely shocked at having come so close to hitting me. The woman grabbed both of my hands and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked a bit hysterically, her voice rising in pitch at the end of the question.

I nodded. I was a bit shaky, but I was otherwise fine. I hadn’t even torn or dirtied my shorts, despite the scrape on my thigh. Wait until Bess and George hear about my latest brush with death, I thought. They’ll never believe it happened in Avondale.

The woman turned to the man and poked him in the arm, hard.

“I told you to slow down, Rick,” she shrieked, almost in tears. “You almost ran this woman over. You could have killed her!”

“I know, I know,” he lamented, wringing his hands.

He turned to me. “Words cannot express how sorry I am, and how thankful I am that you’re okay,” he said genuinely.

“It’s all right,” I replied, giving them both what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, really. It was clearly an accident.”

“Do you need us to call an ambulance or the police?” he asked.

“No need for that,” a loud voice replied from behind me. “The police are already here.”

I turned to see Ian and Sheriff Garrison heading toward us.

Oh no, I thought. Not another encounter with the Avondale police! This was getting a bit absurd.

Sheriff Garrison interviewed the couple and me and took down a full report, while Ian tended to my leg using a first aid kit that looked like it was at least ten years old.