Ink and Shadows(Secret, Book, & Scone Society #4)(61)



“Oh, man.”

“His blood alcohol content was through the roof. He could barely string a sentence together, so no one could question him. Isn’t that annoying?” Nora heard the slap of bread dough striking the counter. “When the sheriff asked Harper what he was doing in Miracle Springs, Harper laughed and said he wanted to go skinny-dipping in our magic water.”

Nora groaned in frustration. “He didn’t mention Celeste? Or CBD oil?”

“Nope. But Jasper’s shift starts at seven, and he’s not going to let Harper leave the interview room until he talks. At least he can’t hurt anyone. Celeste is safe.”

Nora thanked Hester for letting her know and asked her to call back later with any updates. She then flopped back onto her pillow and waited for relief to sweep over her. When it didn’t come, she assumed there’d be no closure until she heard that Harper had been found guilty of killing Bren to get back at Celeste.

As the first hints of daylight seeped into her room, Nora pulled the covers up to her chin. She couldn’t sleep, but she wanted to stay in the warm nest that was her bed a little longer. Closing her eyes, she rested in her silent, cozy room until six o’clock. At that point, she put on her well-worn slippers and plodded into the kitchen to brew coffee and write a to-do list for the day.

When she showed up at the Gingerbread House an hour later, Hester met her at the back door with a puzzled look. “Sheldon already got your book pockets.”

“Actually, I came to see if I could deliver Celeste’s muffins. It saves you a trip, and I can see how she’s doing today.”

Hester smiled and waved her inside. “It’ll be a light load because she would only let me bake one flavor. Last night, she said that she was getting up early today to make banana oat muffins. If they go well, she’ll try two different kinds tomorrow. She’s hoping that after today, she won’t need my help anymore.”

“Wow. If Celeste bakes every morning and keeps the shop open until six every evening, her days are going to be super long.”

Hester handed Nora a large bakery box and said, “Maybe focusing on work is the only way she can manage her grief. If she uses her energy to help people, that energy might come back around and help her too.”

“I like that idea. By pouring yourself out, you can be filled up.” Nora walked to the door and propped it open with her backside. She paused for a moment, hypnotized by the sight of Hester rolling a ball of dough into a paper-thin circle. The kitchen was full of sunlight and the aroma of baked bread, and Nora knew she could spend hours watching her friend work.

Wisps of cinnamon and toasted pecans escaped from a gap in the bakery box lid, breaking Nora’s trance. “Good luck today, Hester. I’ll tell all of my customers to buy a tin of your shortbread cookies while supplies last.”

“And I’ll tell mine to buy a steamy Highland romance from you while supplies last. Is there a better pairing than books and cookies? One hand for your book. One hand for your cookie. Life is good.” Hester pointed at Nora with her rolling pin. “Don’t forget to take pics of the sidewalk display. I’m dying to see it.”

After promising to send an image, Nora headed to Soothe.

Across town, merchants were sweeping stoops and cleaning glass. The cheerful faces of pansies peered out from flowerpots. Arrangements of Indian corn and pumpkins added color to the window displays.

Soothe wouldn’t be open for another two hours, so Nora walked to the back of the building, intending to ring the bell at the delivery door. But when she left the alley and rounded the corner of the building, she saw a man in a black hoodie standing directly in front of Celeste’s door. His legs were spread shoulder-width apart and his right arm was raised as if he meant to knock. He wasn’t knocking, however. He was marking the door with red spray paint.

Hearing her approach, the man shot her a startled glance. In that moment, Nora saw that he wasn’t a man, but a teenage boy. She had just enough time to notice the shadow on his upper lip, the constellation of acne on his chin, and the hate in his eyes before he turned and ran.

“Stop!” Nora shouted. “I know who you are!”

She didn’t bother chasing him. He was far too fast, and the empty threat she’d hurled at him had been ineffective.

Wishing that she really did know the boy’s name, Nora examined his handiwork. He’d written SATAN’S in crooked block letters. Below this word, he’d started to write a second word beginning with W.

Nora stared at the lava-red paint. If her anger had a color, it would be lava red.

“It’ll wash off!” she shouted. “A little paint won’t make her leave! She’s staying! I’m staying! This is our town!”

Shifting the bakery box to one hand, Nora pulled on the door. It swung open with a creak of hinges.

She stepped inside, already planning her call to the sheriff’s department. But the moment the door shut behind her and she was alone in the cold and empty foyer, the space above her pinkie knuckle tingled.

“Oh, no.”

Gripping the bakery box, Nora bolted up the stairs to Celeste’s apartment. The door was cracked, but no sounds escaped from inside.

Nora dropped the box and pushed the door all the way open. “Celeste?”

When no one replied, Nora hurried into the kitchen. She froze on the threshold, shocked by the chaos within. Her eyes scanned the broken crockery, scattered soil, trampled plants, cracked eggs, shattered jars, globs of jam, and a flattened carton of milk.

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