Murder of a Bookstore Babe

A snore drifted out from under the periodical, and Skye wondered how she could wake Pru without making it obvious she wanted to talk to her. Shrugging, she decided she’d have to “accidentally” run into her chair.

Backing up out of sight, Skye started to jog. As she rounded the corner, she increased her speed and banged into the lawn chair. Pru snatched the magazine from her face and gazed up at Skye, an angry expression twisting her features.

Before the older woman could yell at her, Skye said, “I’m so sorry. Enjoying some fresh air?”

“Yes, I was.” Pru’s pale blue eyes were malicious. “What are you doing out here, dear?”

“Just jogging during my morning break.”

“Really.” Pru raised a drawn-on eyebrow. “I thought you told me that you weren’t going to lose weight for your wedding pictures.”

“True.” Skye forced herself to look contrite. “But I considered what you said and decided you might be right, so I’m trying to run a couple of miles every day.”

“How energetic of you.” Pru’s tiny pointed teeth appeared in her version of a smile. “Well, all I can say is that I hope you keep it up.”

“Me, too.”

“So many young people have no follow-through these days.” Pru tucked a greasy strand of hair behind her ear. “When I was your age we were expected to stick to our decisions, not change course every five minutes.”

Skye nodded silently, a firm believer that you rarely learn anything valuable if your mouth is moving.

“Look at those two over at the bookshop.”

Eureka! Just the subject Skye wanted to talk about. “Risé and Orlando? How are they not sticking to their plans and following through on their decisions?”

“They’re prime examples.” Pru pursed her thin lips. “I heard that they both had completely different careers before coming here and opening that store.” She tsked. “All this hopping from job to job is what’s ruining America. It used to be you stayed in your position until you retired, and it was a disgrace to get fired or quit.”

“Still”—Skye tried to steer the conversation into a more positive light—“now that you’ve seen Tales and Treats, surely you don’t still think it’s full of porn and how-to manuals on the occult, do you?”

“Maybe not,” Pru admitted. “After the unfortunate incident of her pets escaping and emptying out the store, I went back and spoke to Ms. Vaughn about my concerns.”

Skye had to bite her tongue to stop herself from blurting out, “You mean after you let the chinchillas loose.” Instead she asked, “And what did Risé say?”

“She assured me they wouldn’t be selling the racier romances or the darker science fiction to anyone under eighteen. And they do have that lovely café. She gave me a card for free coffees for a year to show her appreciation for my concern.”

“I guess that means you can stop gathering signatures for your petition and disband the protesters.” Skye wondered whether the complimentary beverage card was a bribe. More important, had it worked?

“Yes.” Pru thrust out her bottom lip. “Hardly anybody signed anyway,” she muttered, then brightened. “But clearly, something is wrong with that store and its owners, or there wouldn’t have been a murder, so I’m still going to keep my eye on them.”

“Being robbed is not their fault,” Skye pointed out. “That could happen to any business.”

“Not in Scumble River.” Pru shook her head. “I can’t remember the last burglary around here. I believe that everything happens for a reason. And more often than not the reason is someone’s past goof-ups. Thus, there has to be a reason that store is attracting violence. And I think it has to do with that couple’s previous life.”

“What did they do before?” Skye asked. Risé had mentioned her husband’s prior occupation but not what she had done. “I thought Orlando was a book scout, which should be pretty harmless.”

“Maybe.” Pru twitched her shoulders. “But she was some hotshot executive.”

“I wonder why she’d give that up,” Skye mused. “Her salary had to be a lot more than the money they can make from the store, and she’s got to be within five or six years of retirement age.”

“Exactly.” Pru’s tone was predatory. “They’re hiding something, and I won’t rest until I find out what.”

“So then, after I jogged out of her sight, I went and told Trixie she didn’t have to try to dig up any dirt on Pru after all.” Skye was sitting with Wally in the hall outside of Father Burns’s office at the rectory. “She seemed almost disappointed.”

They were waiting for the priest to arrive for their late Monday afternoon appointment to discuss Wally’s annulment. They’d met with him briefly once before and had been given paperwork to complete, but today he was going to discuss the entire process with them.

“That sounds like Trixie. She likes a good fight.” Wally chuckled, then asked, “What did Homer say when you told him?”

“He agreed that although Pru might still be harassing the bookstore, it didn’t sound as if she was going to pursue the petition angle.”

“I’ll bet he was relieved.”