Ink and Shadows(Secret, Book, & Scone Society #4)(52)

“But wouldn’t someone notice if her face turned bright red or her lips blew up like a balloon?” June asked. “A thousand people were milling around. If Bren ate something bad at that festival, why didn’t anyone notice her suffering?”

“Let me check the FAQ section,” said Nora. “Okay, this is how a typical food allergy works. I’m allergic to shellfish, and I eat a big bite of lobster tail. I’m going to have a reaction before I can pull off my bib. But alpha-gal doesn’t work like that. There’s a delayed reaction time of up to six hours.”

There was silence on the other end as June and Estella processed this information.

“So if someone tricked Bren into eating a bite of hamburger at seven, she might not have died until after midnight?” Estella mused aloud. “Wouldn’t she know the difference? Between a black bean and beef burger, for example? I could tell. It’s not just the flavor. It’s the texture. She would have known something was off.”

Could strong spices or especially salty condiments, combined with a beer or two, have muddled Bren’s palate? Nora didn’t think so.

“I agree with you, Estella. But right now, I have to go.” Nora closed her laptop and stood up. “I left a message for McCabe. When I hear back from him, I’ll let you know.”

“Wait!” June cried before Nora could hang up. “Don’t worry about lodge guests avoiding Miracle Books anymore. I took care of that forked-tongue concierge.”

Nora went limp in relief. “I really needed some good news. Thank you, June. I hope you don’t pay a price for getting involved.”

“If I do, it won’t be at work because that concierge was told not to report for today’s shift. Or any other shift.” June sounded smug. “You won’t be surprised to hear that she runs with Connie’s pack.”

Estella said, “Maybe today’s paper will put an end to their witch hunt. Talk to you later.”

Nora hung up and got ready for work. As she unlocked Miracle Books, she wondered if Bobbie was already at the station, arguing her case in front of Sheriff McCabe.

Would he give her the book page now that Bren’s death had been ruled an accident? He had no reason to hold on to it. It wasn’t evidence in a murder investigation. It was just a piece of paper that someone had put under Nora’s doormat the night Bren had died.

Sheldon sent a text saying that he’d had a rough night and would be coming in late, so Nora put thoughts of Bobbie aside and hurried to finish the opening tasks.

“Why didn’t Celeste say something about Bren’s allergy?” Nora muttered as she brewed coffee. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the machine. “Maybe she didn’t know.”

It was possible. Bren had been diagnosed two years ago. She’d been eighteen. A legal adult. Had she gotten sick and gone to the hospital without her mother’s knowledge? Whatever the details, Bren’s diagnosis would have resulted in an abrupt dietary change. But would anyone be surprised when a young woman living in a secluded community suddenly announced that she was giving up red meat? Nora doubted it.

What Nora kept thinking about was how Bren had dropped to the sidewalk the Friday night before her death. She’d been sick to her stomach. Violently sick. Had something triggered her allergy? Would Celeste remember what her daughter had eaten that day?

I’ll have to ask her.

Sheldon arrived an hour late, looking as haggard as Nora. Though pain had plagued him throughout the night, staying in bed this morning had given him the boost he needed to make it through the workday. He explained this to Nora as he put the box of book pockets on the counter and opened the lid. While he washed his hands, the scent of warm, buttery dough drifted through the store, luring customers back to the ticket agent’s office.

Seeing their approach, Sheldon waved at Nora. “Tell me quick. Why are you and June so worked up because the powers-that-be are calling Bren’s death an accident? Isn’t that an easier thing for a mother to accept than a suspicious death or a murder ? What’s done is done. Can’t you let Celeste bury her girl and try to move forward?”

“It’s not that simple,” said Nora.

“I thought you understood suffering. I guess I was wrong,” said Sheldon. Before Nora could reply, he turned away to serve his first customer.

Customers needed Nora’s help too, so she wasn’t able to explain herself until much later. She and Sheldon were in the YA section, restocking titles. After shelving books for several minutes, Nora broke the silence.

“Do you think Voltaire understood suffering?” she asked.

Sheldon looked wary. “He could hardly be called a champion of the poor, downtrodden, and unjustly persecuted if he didn’t.”

“‘To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only truth.’ Those are his words.” Nora passed Sheldon two Leigh Bardugo books. “I believe that too. I respect Celeste. I feel terrible for her. But someone owes Bren the truth.”

Sheldon arched a brow. “And why should that someone be you?”

“That’s a fair question,” Nora said, moving toward the Fantasy section. “I guess it’s because she died near my house. Or because I found her. I offered her a place to go if she needed one, and I think she needed one.”

“And you ended up with a book page full of scribbles.”