A Novel Death: a Danger Cove Bookshop Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 10) (18 page)

"Don't touch her," David said, getting to his feet and running toward the two struggling women.

Adam leapt up, dropped a shoulder, and launched himself at David, knocking the other man flat. Adam grabbed the gun from the floor, then tossed me his phone. "Call 9-1-1."

Pippa screeched, and her fist flew into Astra's face, stunning the smaller woman. I threw the phone to Cecilia and joined the melee, wrestling the redheaded hellion who was pummeling Astra. I got an elbow in the ribs for my trouble but hung on until Astra could get out from under Pippa and help me hold her down.

And for the fourth time in recent days, I heard the sound of sirens making their way through my hometown.

"Mom, meet Nancy Drew," I said, holding my fluffy friend up so my mother could get a better look at her.

Nancy let out a squeak and batted at the ties on my hoodie, managing to catch one with her supersharp claws. I disentangled her from my clothing while my mom watched with a disapproving frown from the doorway.

It had been a few days since the police arrested David, and I'd been busy repairing the shop and getting it ready to reopen, giving my statement to Detective Marshall, and fielding calls from friends who had seen me in the news once again. Also, several mystery and thriller writers were suddenly interested in visiting Dangerous Reads on their book tours, and I'd filled the vacancy on the schedule and added several more events.

I'd been so busy that Alicia and Burt insisted I take a day off and relax. Even Katya had pointed at the door that morning when I'd walked into the bookshop, giving me a stern warning to stay away until I'd had a lazy day at home. So Nancy and I were spending the day getting to know each other.

"I guess she's pretty cute," my mother conceded, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind her. "But she's going to shed something terrible."

I set the kitten down on the floor, and she ran off to play under the dining room table with the toys I'd left there for her. My mother shook her head and continued through the house to the kitchen, a canvas tote bag over her arm.

"Well, the name is appropriate," she said, opening the bag and taking out a large package of lint rollers. "Keep one of these in your car, just in case."

"In case of a lint emergency?"

"You never know."

"Adam suggested the name," I said. As much as I'd like to not talk with my mother about my romantic life, Danger Cove was far too small, and the gossip network too fast, to keep that news from her.

Adam had picked up Nancy at the shelter and delivered her the day before, and to repay him, I'd made dinner. Well, I had ordered a pizza. But he'd seemed fine with that, and it had been looking to be a nice evening—for about 20 minutes, until he'd gotten called out to deliver a foal before the pizza arrived.

"I'm looking forward to meeting him," Mom said, unpacking a half dozen seedlings in an egg carton. "I can't stay, but I got these from Bev at my garden club meeting and wanted to get them to you."

"What is it?" I asked, examining the tiny sprouts poking out of the soil.

"It's catnip," Mom said. "It will grow well in the shade, so you can put it in that bed by the fence, under the sycamore."

A loud mechanical whine interrupted her, and she turned toward the backyard. It was the same obnoxious industrial sound that I'd been putting up with all morning, but happily so.

"What is going on back there?"

"I'm having the sycamore taken out," I said.

"Oh, that will open up all sorts of gardening possibilities," she said, her eyes brightening. "I mean, you know, if you want me to help you with that."

"Of course I want your help with it." Kimberly Sinclair's garden was her pride and joy. Hiring that sort of expertise would cost thousands of dollars and was something I'd probably never pay for anyway.

She gave me a hesitant smile. "I thought you might still be mad at me."

Seeing the Montague family up close and personal put my mother's little white lie into perspective. I did truly believe that she had been trying to protect me from losing another loved one. It was misguided, but her heart had been in the right place.

"I'm over it."

Her smile grew, and she reached out and rubbed my arm. "I am sorry that I lied to you. That was wrong."

"Thank you." That acknowledgment was gratifying, and I could tell that she meant it. It was a moment of real growth for her.

Then she plucked some cat fur from my sleeve and made a face before throwing it away under the sink. So maybe that growth was more incremental.

"Does this mean you're staying around for a while?" she asked.

I looked around the house and took in the familiar surrounding—my grandmother's kitchen with the new black-and-white tile floor, the retro-style refrigerator that she'd recently purchased, and the new blinds over the kitchen sink. Since my return to Danger Cove, I'd been so busy that I hadn't paid attention to all the improvements she'd made to the house. But since Nancy and I were just spending a day hanging out together, I'd had time to really look at the place.

It had changed over the years. A lot. In fact, my grandmother might have been one of the least sentimental people I'd ever met. She'd remodeled and repainted, swapped out furniture, and had always been ready to try new things. And not just at her house. Dangerous Reads had also been updated over the years—new layouts, design, and fun new events.

I didn't need to feel bad about making my own changes to the house or to the store. Grandma Ruth would not have wanted me to keep them as a museum in her memory. In fact, the best way to honor her would be to make both places my own.

And I intended to do that.

"I'm staying."

And I was changing out the dark-red drapes in the living room for wooden blinds, I decided. Then maybe I'd figure out how to get a cute backyard like Cecilia Evers had. I was sure my mother could help me with that.

My mother smiled and kissed my cheek.

"I need to get back home to pick out the first book for my new book club," she said, walking to the door. "I'm so excited that you asked me to lead this group, sweetie. I think having a book club that focuses on gardening and design is a wonderful idea."

It was a good idea, and I was patting myself on the back for thinking of it. Burt and my mom would switch months. Burt was going to focus on nonfiction books, such as history and biographies, especially with a local angle. Though he said he'd be damned before he selected Cal Montague's biography. "Had just about enough of that jerk, may he rest in peace," he had muttered.

My mother's club would read books related to her interests in gardening and horticultural design. Alicia was still handling all the fiction for her existing book club, but she was urging me to start a separate group that read mysteries and thrillers. I was considering this, but first, I wanted a break from my real-life mystery and thriller.

I opened the front door for my mom and found Adam walking up the front steps, a plastic pet carrier in his hand. He was dressed casually in a worn sweatshirt with a faded college logo across his chest, and his dark-blond hair was mussed—just the way I liked it.

I introduced him to my mother on the porch, and he set the carrier down to shake her hand.

"What's in there?" I asked.

"I brought you something," he said, picking up the carrier so I could peer inside. Another ball of gray fluff—this one lighter and with a white chest—peered back at me. "Having two kittens is no more work than one. Maybe having two cats to take care of will keep you out of trouble."

My mother gave a delicate snort. "Is that how that works? Maybe I should have had another child so you would have stayed out of trouble."

She gave Adam a warm smile, waved at me, and headed down the steps. Adam pulled the kitten out and handed it to me.

"She's from the same litter. I'm sure Nancy will be happy to have the company," he said.

I stroked her under her white chin, and she tried to bite my finger. "Oh, you're adorable," I said.

"Thank you," Adam said, giving me a wink.

"You're adorable too," I said, ushering him inside.

I sat on the floor in the living room and let the new kitten explore her new home. The two sisters found each other immediately, chasing each other and tumbling across the carpet.

"Thank you for the extra kitten," I said. "It's better than flowers."

Adam crouched down on the floor next to me. "I'm glad you like her. I was there picking up Grimace and saw that she was the last kitten from the litter. The rest were all adopted, and she looked so lonely."

"You adopted Grimace?" The thought of the big orange cat warmed my heart. He'd been so friendly and lovable, and I hadn't been able to get him off my mind.

Adam shrugged. "He'd been at the rescue for a couple months, and we got along well."

The new kitten scrambled over my legs, and Adam scooped her and sat next to me.

"What are you going to name her?" Adam asked.

"Trixie, of course," I said, stroking her soft fur.

"Of course," he said, with a mock serious look. "Why Trixie?"

"Because growing up, I read all the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden mysteries. They were big influences on me, especially Trixie Belden."

"Was Trixie always getting in trouble?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"I think Trixie's a great name," Adam said.

He let her down and then leaned back against the couch, looking comfortable sitting on the floor, even as I tried to calculate the last time I'd brought out my vacuum cleaner.

"What's going on with the investigation? Have you heard from the police?" he asked.

In the chaos at Pippa Montague's house, I hadn't really gotten a chance to talk with Adam. And then our last evening together had been cut short by his job, so I filled him in on the rest of the night.

"Since they finally determined that my grandmother's gun was not the murder weapon, they searched Pippa's house and seized a .22 that is registered to David, and it sounded like they were confident that it was the murder weapon," I said. "Of course, Detective Marshall was also confident that my gun was the murder weapon. We should wait until they get ballistic tests back to confirm that, I suppose."

"But David confessed to shooting his father," Adam said.

"Yes, I guess I'd just like to get this wrapped up and close this chapter," I said. "Pippa's already out on bail, since she's only charged with being an accessory after the fact for lying about where David was that night. But I heard that she's under house arrest while awaiting trial, so at least I won't have to worry about running into her around town."

"Did David admit to shooting at the store too?"

"Yes, he did. But he said it was to scare us," I said. "But Detective Marshall doesn't believe him. He thinks that David thought that if Cecilia were out of the picture, the estate would go to Cecilia's closest relative—her cousin, David."

As much as I hated to admit it, I thought Detective Marshall was right this time.

"Have you heard from Astra or Gibson?"

"Yes, I did. Astra called me last night. She said Gibson and Cecilia are planning an extended visit to Santa Barbara, and she's looking forward to introducing Cecilia to her siblings," I said.

Hearing from Astra had been the high point of my week. She was so excited to spend time with her daughter and wanted to make sure that Adam and I knew how much she appreciated out help.

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Astra has other children?"

"Yes, a son and a daughter," I said. "Maybe that will help Cecilia deal with the trauma of losing her uncle—oh, I mean her father. And a cousin-slash-brother and aunt who weren't all that great anyway."

The snarling whine of the chain saw picked up again in the backyard, and Adam looked toward the back of the house. "What's going on back there?"

"I'm having the sycamore tree in the backyard taken out. It turns out, I'm allergic to sycamore pollen. That is why I had an allergy attack in the tree and again in the car with you. We were covered in pollen," I said. "I'm replacing it with something that won't make me sneeze."

Adam's lips softened and turned up just slightly. "Does that mean you're not allergic to me?"

My stomach did a slow somersault when I caught a glimpse of the dimple in his cheek.

"As long as you're not a pollen spore, I should be fine."

"If you're going to be staying in Danger Cove, maybe we should try another date," Adam said. "But this time, maybe no gunfire."

I didn't have the best track record when it came to romance, but I could tell this was something worth staying around for. A girl didn't often come across an attractive, former hockey player who loved cats and who wasn't scared off by bizarre and dangerous first dates.

And I remembered how it felt when Adam kissed me good-night.

I'd happily swap out gunshots for fireworks anytime.

* * * * *

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