If the Shoe Kills (12 page)

The girl shrugged again. “Maybe tomorrow. I just want my tea now.”

I'd forgotten I was working on her drink. I doused the tea bag with a blast of hot water to get the brewing process started, then filled the cup. Handing it to the girl, I waved away the dollar bills in her hand. “No charge for refills.”

She glared at Toby, then stomped back to her book.

“Great, now I'm the bad guy for charging her a quarter for each of the three refills she's already had.” Toby stood and pulled off his apron. “I'm beat. I've got tonight off from the other job and I'm heading home for a quick nap.”

I pulled out my own book and took a seat at the table. “See you tomorrow.”

Toby leaned against the counter. “You know, Jackie usually checks the receipts before I leave.”

I snorted. “I trust you. Besides, if you're dipping into the till, who am I going to tell? If you're stealing from me, who do I report it to?”

“I'm just telling you, we have a routine. She snips about how low the sales were, and I tell her she's an old grump and I can outsell her any day of the week.” Toby tapped his fingers on the counter. “I hope she gets over being mad at Josh. I think they make a cute couple.”

After Toby left, the girl at the window finished her tea in two long gulps and followed him out the door. She zipped her Oregon Ducks hoodie up against a chill and swung her backpack over her shoulder. A flash of greasy blond hair peeked out near her neck, but she pushed it away. I watched her walk out the door and for a moment, our gaze met. Anger flared out of that look, making me turn my head and drop my hand that had been starting to lift in a friendly wave.

When I glanced back out the window, she'd disappeared. Street kid, I guessed. Probably a runaway using the café as a break from being outdoors. A real chair to sit in rather than the park bench. I sent good thoughts into the universe to ease her way and returned to reading my book.

For the next two hours, I had three customers, if you counted the mother looking for a bathroom for her daughter. But Jackie's display of children's books caught the woman's attention and before she left, she'd purchased three books for her daughter and matched the three for the center. My last customer before I shut down for the night was Matt, stopping for a large coffee on his way to Darla's winery.

“I didn't expect any of the crew until tomorrow.” Sasha worked the evening shift with Jackie, giving my aunt plenty of time to think up new projects and marketing ideas for the store. Eight weeks, well, seven now, would go by fast. Not for the first time, I wondered if the business could afford to bring Sasha on for anything close to full-time.

Matt blushed. “Darla needs help redoing a section of her patio before the rain sets in, so I thought I'd come over and get a start on it tonight.”

“Have you met Candy over at Work Today?” I wondered what the program director would say if she knew her charge was putting in extra hours. Were they even allowed to do that?

Matt shook his head. “We've got a meet-and-greet tomorrow afternoon before they bus us over. You'd think they wanted us to look for work rather than waste our time with social teas.”

“It's all about the networking and who you know,” I said, mostly as a joke.

Matt's jaw clenched. “You can say that again.” He handed me two dollars for the coffee and walked toward the door. He stopped with the door half-open. “Although for all his connections, it didn't save Ted from being a jerk and getting killed.”

J
ackie came down from the apartment during my morning shift the next day. She pulled a batch of flyers out of a box and shoved them toward me. “Standard drill, give everyone who buys a drink one with their cup, and if they get something from the dessert case, shove one in their bag.”

The flyers were sectioned off into fifty-page bundles, the better to monitor the distribution in Jackie's mind. I unclipped the binder and held one up. Pictures of the center and one of a little girl sitting alone with a book on her lap in front of the shop's bookshelves told the story with quiet elegance. The plea went way past just buying a book for a needy child. Jackie had almost promised world peace with an end to the theory of Mutually Assured Destruction finishing with ending childhood hunger. A typical Jackie overdo. “Nice,” I said and meant it. “We can slip them into the books we sell as a bookmark.”

Jackie stared at me, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing.

“Or not,” I faltered.

She shook her head. “No. It's a terrific idea. I'm just wondering when you started thinking marketing rather than spending your free time reading all day.”

Busted. I guess I had used most of the evening shift to get caught up on my favorite owner duties, researching the new releases. How could I recommend a book I hadn't read? The door chime kept me from having to explain my lack of measurable work yesterday.

Regina Johnson waved. She didn't come right up to the counter. Instead, she wandered over to the bookshelves, running her finger across the books and stopping occasionally to pull one out. David, her driver, stood behind her, and as she took books from the shelves, she handed them to him. By the time they walked up to the counter, the man held ten books, ranging from classics to several modern authors.

She waved him to set the books down and tipped her head upward to read the menu board. “Two large mochas and a random dozen of your treats over there. David's got some reading to catch up on.”

“You don't have to buy me these books. I can afford them.” His face was turning beet red.

I started the mochas and smiled at Regina. “Trying to get him to branch out from his reading rut?”

She picked up one of the books and glanced lovingly at the cover. “When I realized he'd never read anything from Mark Twain or any of the classics, I knew I had to correct that error with his literary education. Besides, I'm paying him for his time. He can at least try to read what I ask him to read.”

David mumbled something so low, I couldn't even hear him. Regina ignored the comment, but I jumped in with both feet.

“What?”

He blushed, then straightening his shoulders, said in a clear voice, “I like my books.”

Regina laughed. “You sound just like my son did growing up. Petulant and stubborn.” She patted David on the arm. “Relax, you might even like some of the books I bought for you. What did you do in high school? Some of these must have been on your English reading lists.”

He grinned. “I restored my teacher's '69 Duster. I was in auto shop and didn't have a car of my own to work on, so Mr. Higgins let me restore his. I guess maybe I didn't do all the English homework and he didn't care.”

Regina pursed her lips. “Our education system at work. This is why we need standardized testing to pass from grade to grade. My son spent so much time in the garage with his dad working on that hot rod of his, I'm pretty sure he schmoozed his way through some of his classes. The boy was class president all four years of high school.” She paused. “He was a charmer.”

Something in Regina's words made me wonder if her son wasn't in her life anymore. Before I could answer, David put his hand on her arm and she turned to him, brightening.

“Right, we're not talking about the old days.” She smiled at me. “I've made it my mission to try to widen David's reading choices. He'll love these stories.”

He didn't answer aloud, but I could read his answer on his face. Fat chance. I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling and changed the subject. “I'm sure I gave my mom grief about her summer reading list.” I handed a cup to Regina. “Let me ring this up for you.”

She picked up a flyer on the counter. “A book drive, how sweet. Remind me to write you a check for the cause before I leave.”

I frowned, confused. “Today?”

“No. I meant before I end my stay at your quaint little town.” She paused, looking wistful, like she'd lost something and she didn't know where to start searching. “I guess I have to go back to the real world someday.”

“Reality is overrated.” Jackie's voice jarred me. I'd forgotten she was in the shop she'd been so quiet.

Regina turned her head and considered Jackie's comment, her face solemn. “I think you're right about that. Unfortunately, I have commitments to keep. Ones that won't go away just because I'm feeling blue.”

“I'm sure you've heard the adage about putting your oxygen mask on first in case of a crash. Just tell the people hassling you that you need some Regina time.” I handed her the charge slip with her credit card.

She signed the credit card slip and picked up her packages. “I'm sure that works in some alternate universe, but not in my world.” Regina smiled, but the light didn't reach her eyes. “Thanks for listening to the meanderings of a doddering old lady.”

“You're not old,” David chided her, his voice growing soft at the end. The man seemed to care for his boss, maybe a little too much, in my opinion. But as I watched them walk out of the shop together, I knew Regina had at least one person watching her back. Sometimes, one was all you needed.

“That woman is deeply depressed.” Jackie straightened the flyers by the register.

I kept watching the two as they walked toward the bed-and-breakfast. “I wonder what brought her to South Cove?”

“Probably a cheating husband. Married couples around her age, they all go off the reservation at least once.”

“That's pretty cynical.” I watched my aunt as she ignored my gaze.

“Just being realistic.” Jackie filled her travel cup and grabbed a chocolate pastry. “I'm heading upstairs for some me time before my shift. Let me know if you need anything.”

I wondered if there had been problems in the perfect marriage she had with Uncle Ted.
Not my business
, I thought as I took the box of flyers to the storeroom in the back. Wednesday mornings were slow, so after I'd gotten the work area supplied for the day, I grabbed a slice of Sadie's pumpkin pie, topped off my coffee, and sat down to read. Today I chose one of the books Regina had purchased for David, a love story with two ill-fated souls, coming back to the world, over and over, and still missing each other. Not recognizing their soul mate until it was too late. I'd heard good reviews of the story, but had avoided reading it, mostly because I'm impatient with my happily-ever-afters. I don't want to wade through years, let alone lifetimes, for two people to make it work.

I'd gotten halfway through the book when Toby arrived for his shift. I wiped tears from my eyes and put a bookmark into the paperback. I'd finish it tonight at home . . . where I could sob in private.

“Good book?” Toby slipped behind the counter and tossed his jacket into the back room. It probably landed on my desk. The one covered with boxes of books and other shop supplies. I did most of my bookwork for the shop at home.

“There's a coatrack back there, you know.” I cleaned up my plate and cup from my breakfast, depositing them into the sink on my way to the back room.

Toby slipped on his apron and turned on the water to wash his hands. “I know. I just don't want to walk that far.”

I grabbed my purse from the top of the desk, hung up Toby's lightweight jacket, and returned to the front of the shop. “You expect people to take care of you.”

He shrugged. “You hung up my jacket when you went to the back. So I guess I'm not wrong in my assumption.”

“You drive me crazy sometimes.” I checked the time. I was meeting Amy for lunch in fifteen minutes. “So, Elisa has a kid?”

Toby nodded. “Isabella. She's five. Looks like a little princess but loves playing in the dirt with the neighbor boy's Tonka trucks. I think she's going to be a race car driver when she grows up.”

I grabbed one of the flyers. “I forgot. Jackie said you were bringing her in for pictures.” I studied the little girl so focused on the book in her lap. “Is this her?”

Toby grinned. “Yep. She was a wild thing most of the time, then we sat down for some coffee and to look over the pictures we'd already shot. After we stopped paying attention to her, she sat down and started reading. That's when Elisa snapped that photo.”

“She reads?” I didn't know much about five-year-olds.

He shrugged. “She knows a lot of words. I read to her after dinner on nights I visit. She's pretty smart, that one.”

“Sounds like it.” I patted Toby's arm as I passed by. “She clearly has your number.”

As I walked down the still-undecorated streets, I thought about the look of pride that had shown on Toby's face as he talked about Isabella. I hoped Elisa turned out to be the one, because if this relationship went sour it might just break Toby's heart this time. The boy was invested in the two of them. The man, I corrected myself. And for the first time when I thought of my barista, I thought the word might just describe him.

Amy had already claimed our favorite booth when I arrived at Diamond Lille's. I watched her tapping keys on her phone, texting someone. She bit her bottom lip as she texted, not a normal Amy gesture. I slid into the opposite bench, tucking my purse onto the seat next to me. I waited for her to finish before I spoke. “Happy Camel Day.”

She smiled, but not very wide. “I've been looking forward to our lunch since Justin dropped me off last night. I would have called you, but it was so late.”

“Wait, what's going on?” I pushed away the menu I'd been studying even though we'd eaten at Lille's at least once a week since I'd move to South Cove five years ago. Last summer, I'd worried that Lille might ban me from the only restaurant other than my coffee shop within ten miles. She'd believed I had been trying to steal away her loser boyfriend. Luckily, his arrest and my almost demise allowed her to tolerate me coming into the diner. A forgiveness that made me happy, especially on Wednesdays when the daily soup was a loaded potato bowl of heaven.

Carrie stood by the table, snapping a piece of gum. I'd heard through the grapevine that the waitress was two weeks into her third try to give up smoking. The last two attempts had ended badly when a customer had gotten on her last nerve, pushing her out to the sidewalk. She'd confronted the first tourist who even looked like they could be harboring a cigarette pack in their coat pocket. Carrie narrowed her eyes on Amy's phone. “You guys ready to order or you got more phone calls to make?”

Amy pushed the phone toward the wall. “I'm ready. I'll have a cheeseburger with onion rings. Add in a caramel chocolate shake.”

Carrie scribbled on her order sheet. She shot a look at me.

“Bowl of potato soup and a dinner salad, bleu cheese on the side.” I waited for a split second, then decided against the lower calorie choice. “And a Cherry Coke.”

Carrie harrumphed and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing empty plates on her way. I breathed a sigh of relief when she slipped behind the counter and into the kitchen.

I leaned over the table. “I like her better when she smokes.”

Amy waved the comment away. “Wait a few weeks and she'll be back to normal, one way or the other.”

“I'm not sure if we can survive a few days, let alone weeks.” I sipped water waiting for my real drink to arrive. A few minutes later, another waitress dropped off our drinks. As I took a sip of the sweet syrupy soda, the caffeine hit made me shiver. I focused back on my friend. Justin was a history professor by day and a cool surfer dude at night and weekends. He was perfect for her. “So, you and Justin fighting about where the best waves hit?”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “We aren't fighting.”

Confused, I asked the follow-up: “Then why did you need to talk to me so bad? Something with work?”

She shook her head. “It's Justin.”

My head was spinning like on my favorite ride at the carnivals, the Tilt-a-Whirl. “Wait, you just said you weren't fighting.”

“We aren't.” Amy sniffed and grabbed a handful of thin paper napkins from the silver holder on the table. She blew her nose, loudly.

“Then what's wrong with Justin?” I prayed he wasn't sick, or dying, or secretly married. No, that would be a fight, I was sure.

Amy's eyes widened. “He wants me to go to Missouri for Christmas.”

I tried to think of anything good to say about Missouri, but honestly, I'd never even been to the state, so I said the first thing that came into my mind. “St. Louis is in Missouri.”

“It's not St. Louis. He's taking me to a little town in the middle of nowhere.” She took a sip of her milk shake, then calmed, said the offending words again. “No. Where.”

“I don't understand, just tell him you don't want to go to Missouri for Christmas. Maybe he thinks it's a good vacation, but what about Cancun? Now, that would be one amazing Christmas. Tell him Mexico would be better.”

“You don't get it. He's from Missouri.” Amy waited for a second, then when she was convinced I still didn't understand her words, added. “He wants to take me home for Christmas. To meet his parents.”