“I got curious and looked on the internet,” Sam said.
“I should have thought of that. Guess I’m not that good of a detective.” Bunny grimaced.
Sam patted her shoulder. “You did fine. Don’t forget—you’re just beginning, and I have years of experience. Besides, I would have thought the same as you, except I got curious about the book club. It was a fluke that I discovered his true identity, because I wouldn’t have looked up the author of the book as part of the investigation.”
“Well, maybe.” That made Bunny feel a lot better. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you, Claire?” Claire had been pretty quiet, and Bunny sensed she had something on her mind.
“Oh, not much. Same old.”
“How about the Beach Bones issue?” Maxi asked as she balanced a small plate with miniature sandwiches and tiny desserts.
“Oh, that. Well, there’s been a development.” Claire sighed.
“What?” Jane asked.
“It seems like Sandee is the other person selling Beach Bones.”
Jane’s eyebrows flew up. “You mean your ex-husband’s wife?”
Claire pressed her lips together. “Yep.”
“Well, that’s an interesting development. What are you going to do?”
Claire shrugged. “I’m not sure. I mean, I could just pick another name, but somehow now that I know it’s Sandee, that makes me want to keep it.”
“It’s not trademarked or anything, right?” Maxi asked.
“I had Tammi look, and she said no. The name is free and clear, but I wonder if I should just let it go so I don’t have to deal with the drama,” Claire said.
“Or maybe it would be a good way to get well-deserved revenge.” Maxi popped a tiny quiche into her mouth and spoke around a mouthful. “She took your husband, and now you can take her dog biscuit name.”
Claire laughed and put her hand over Rob’s. “Well, turns out her taking my husband was a good thing. Now I have Rob.”
“Awww… That’s cute,” Andie said. “I say you use the name and outsell the heck out of her.”
Bunny stole a few glances at Sam as the others continued to discuss what Claire should do about the dog biscuits. She still felt awkward about how Sam had rushed in to save her from embarrassing herself in front of Mr. Smith. Afterward, she’d thanked him, and he’d assured her it was a mistake anyone could make, pointing out that he had also been suspicious. Still, Bunny couldn’t help but feel weird about the whole thing.
Liz had invited them to the library reveal when they’d stumbled upon it the night before during the whole Mr. Smith debacle. Bunny wasn’t really sure Sam would show up since he didn’t know Jane very well, but she’d been happy to see him. He’d seemed happy to see her, too, but she really wasn’t sure about that.
But now that the party was almost over, she wondered if she’d see Sam again. They didn’t have the investigation as an excuse to meet. Should she invite him over for crossword night? No, that seemed contrived. At least she’d see him at book club, though she had kind of hoped they could become better friends than that.
She wondered what to do. Maybe going home and gardening was the best thing. The Mr. Smith investigation had been fun, but now it was over. Yeah, she’d made a few mistakes, but that wasn’t going to stop her from investigating. She would learn from her mistakes and do better next time.Maybe take on something a little less heavy than a murder. Perhaps a missing cat or dog?
She could work her way up to getting a private investigator license. Either way, she planned to keep doing things that made her feel useful. And she didn’t need Sam Campbell for that.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Sam stared down at his phone. It had been two days since the library reveal, and he’d thought Bunny might have texted him. The investigation was over, but surely, she might have something to say about the crossword puzzles. Maybe he should message her and invite her for a muffin at Sandcastles?
He hoped she didn’t feel self-conscious over their presumptions toward Mr. Smith. It was only a fluke that Sam had discovered his true identity, and he’d agreed the man was acting suspicious. He’d already told her that. He hoped she didn’t think he was just saying it to be nice.
He headed toward the garage to put away the paintbrush. He’d been doing more work on the house, making it his own. Not getting rid of Jean but just making her less prominent. She’d always be a part of his heart, but he had many years to live on his own, and he wanted them to be good ones.
A spot of shiny red color caught his eye. The cover had slipped off a corner of the Corvette. He went over and lifted it. The paint job was still pristine.
“Might as well take a look at her, eh?” he said to Dooley, who had trotted out behind him.
Dooley wagged his tail.
