Murder of a Bookstore Babe

Skye recognized most of the girls and was surprised by the age range. Shawna Miles and Cassie Wren, the two who had been helping Trixie set up when Skye arrived, were only eleven or twelve, while some of the others were at least eighteen.

As soon as Skye sat down, Bitsy Kessler and Ashley Yates immediately claimed the two chairs on either side of her. Skye knew Bitsy from the high school newspaper, and she had rescued Ashley when the girl had tumbled into an abandoned basement, broken her leg in the fall, and been trapped there.

Last year Bitsy and Ashley had been enemies; this year they appeared to be friends. Maybe they were fren-emies. Skye had heard that term recently but wasn’t precisely sure what it meant.

The two younger girls flanked Trixie. They, too, might fall under the frenemy label, as they were rivals in the local dance troupe.

Other teens occupied the remaining seats, and once everyone was comfortable, Skye counted heads. Fifteen—not bad for the first meeting. If the girls enjoyed themselves tonight, they might bring their friends to the next session.

Trixie held up a copy of If I Have a Wicked Stepmother, Where’s My Prince? and asked, “So, what did you all think of this book?”

The kids were silent. Their expressions ranged from eagerness to apprehension. Trixie and Skye had come up with a few questions to use to initiate the discussion, and clearly they were needed to get the girls started, but Skye hoped that once they got going, they could ditch the formalities and just talk.

Skye leaned forward. “Maybe the first thing we should ask is, did you like the book?”

All the girls nodded, some saying they enjoyed the humor, others stating they thought the romance and excitement were the best things about the novel. A few commented that it was an easy read and they were hooked from the beginning.

“How about the protagonist? Could you identify with Lucy?” Skye asked.

Again, everyone nodded.

“Have you ever felt like Cinderella?” Trixie took up the leadership reins.

Shawna raised her hand. “I was Cinderella at our last dance recital.”

Everyone but Cassie tittered. She reached across Trixie and hit her friend’s arm. “We shared the role, Miss Smarty-Pants. Remember? Ms. Smothers said we were both equally good, and she couldn’t choose who was better.”

Trixie looked at Skye, silently asking: Should we go back to being more concrete?

Skye nodded, and Trixie said, “What did you think of the cover? If you were browsing the shelves, would it catch your eye?”

“Well.” Bitsy tossed her copper ringlets. “That sparkly star sure would have.”

“Yeah,” Ashley chimed in. “The color was nice, and the poufy dress with the Converses would have definitely made me look twice.”

“Because the formal and the shoes were incongruous with each other?” Skye asked.

“Nah.” One of the other girls grinned. “Because the look was so cool.”

Trixie waited for the giggles to stop, then said, “Reviewers have called this book a modern-day Cinderella story. Do you think they were correct? Did any of you see the similarity?”

A brunette whom Skye couldn’t place stared at the floorboards as she spoke. “Lucy’s stepmother made her live in a basement and sleep on an air mattress. And her twin stepsisters were mean to her and made fun of how she dressed. And she had to do all the work.”

“That’s a good point.” Skye smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Heidi.” The girl continued to gaze at the ground, shuffling her feet.

“Do you live in Scumble River?” Skye knew most of the teenagers in town. Maybe not their names, but their faces, and this girl didn’t look even slightly familiar.

“We moved here over the summer.” Heidi picked at a hangnail.

“So you started at a new school where you didn’t know anyone, just like Lucy?” Skye hoped this group would help the girl make some friends.

Heidi shrugged but remained silent.

After a second or two, Bitsy piped up, turning the discussion back to the book. “But Lucy doesn’t end up with Prince Charming.”

“Doesn’t she?” Skye saw Heidi sit back in relief, so she went with the thread Bitsy had started. “What makes a boy a Prince Charming? Which boy in this story is the true prince, Connor or Sam?”

The group was silent, and Skye was afraid she had lost the girls, but finally Ashley spoke. “I don’t think a real prince has to be the hottest guy. I think that sometimes the real prince is the guy who gets you. Who understands you and likes what you do. The one who doesn’t go along with the crowd.”

As the others murmured their agreement, Skye reflected that Ashley had certainly come a long way from the girl she’d first known—the spoiled, self-centered cheerleader who’d had sex with a bunch of jocks to ensure her popularity.

That line of thinking led Skye to another question. “Why do you think it took Lucy so long to see which guy was her true Prince Charming?”