Sam smiled and pocketed her phone.
Minutes later, she found a parking spot in front of Twice-Told Tales.The bookshop looked dark and closed, its cheerful window displays somehow lonely without customers inside.
She walked around to the left side of the building and found the lockbox exactly where Charlotte had described it.The code worked on the first try, and Sam retrieved the key.
The front door opened with the familiar jingle of the bell.Sam flipped on the lights and looked around.Sam made her way through the familiar aisles, breathing in the scent of paper and ink.
She unlocked the back door and propped it open with a doorstop she found nearby in preparation for the delivery driver.Then she wandered back to the front of the store to take Charlotte up on her offer and browse the shelves while she waited.
Sam was examining the mystery section’s new releases when the front door’s bell jingled.Sam looked up to see Pamela Cross stepping inside, a canvas tote bag over her shoulder.
Pamela’s face lit up with pleased surprise.“Hi, Sam!I didn’t realize Charlotte was open today.I walked past earlier and thought she was closed.”
“Actually, sheisclosed.I’m just here to accept a book delivery for her.She’s in Asheville, visiting her mom.”
“I hope everything’s all right,” said Pamela, her forehead crinkled with concern.
“Her mom had a fall, but she’s going to be okay.”
“Sorry about the fall, but glad her mom is okay.”Pamela glanced around the shop, but made no move to leave.“It’s been such a stressful week for everyone.Charlotte didn’t need anything else, did she?First Margaret, then Gerald.”She shook her head.“I keep thinking about that memorial service.So awkward, wasn’t it?No one knew quite what to say.”
“It was difficult, for sure.”
Pamela set her tote bag on the counter near the register.“I left that chapel as soon as I could.The whole thing just felt so tense.I’ve been trying ways to handle my stress, but I’m not sure it’s working.I guess I’m not handling all this as well as I thought I would.”
“No one is,” Sam said.“It’s been such a shock.”
“The library at the retirement home has been a pleasant distraction.I’ve been spending extra time there, making sure everything’s organized and helping residents find books.Reading is a real comfort during difficult times, isn’t it?”
Sam’s thoughts snagged on something Pamela had just said, although she couldn’t quite grasp what it was.The library.Stress management.
“You mentioned trying to handle your stress,” Sam said slowly.“What techniques have you been using?”
Pamela looked at her, surprised by the question.“Oh, the usual things they tell you to do online.Deep breathing, meditating, walking.Making sure I’m taking care of myself by eating properly.And I try to remember to take my medications on time.”She gave a slightly embarrassed laugh.“It’s not very exciting, but it helps.”
Sam’s mind flashed back to the retirement home’s library.To Pamela mentioning her blood thinners.And then, like tumblers clicking into place in a lock, other pieces fell together.The way she’d steered every conversation away from her past with Margaret.The fact a resident at the retirement home thought Pamela had been a former teacher.Margaret’s memoir mentioning ‘academic circles.’
Margaret’s death.Crushed pills in coffee.
Sam must have made some sound, or her expression must have changed, because Pamela went very still.
“Sam?”Pamela’s voice was uncertain.“Are you all right?”
Sam tried to keep her features neutral, but she could feel the color draining from her face.She looked at Pamela, really looked at her, and saw the exact moment when Pamela recognized what had just happened.
Pamela’s expression shifted.The warmth drained away, replaced by something watchful and wary.“You just figured something out.”It wasn’t a question.“I can see it on your face.”
Sam took an involuntary step backward.
“It was the medication comment, wasn’t it?”Pamela’s voice was quiet, almost sad.“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.But I wasn’t thinking.I was just making conversation.I guess I’m not very good at this.”She paused.“Though I suppose it doesn’t matter now.You’ve already put everything together.”
Sam’s heart hammered in her chest.They were alone in the closed bookshop.Her phone was in her purse, which she’d set down somewhere near the mystery section.She tried to remember exactly where without giving away her intentions by looking around for it.
“Pamela,” Sam started.
“The problem is that I can’t have you telling anyone.They won’t understand.Not the police or anyone else.”
Sam didn’t answer.She took another step back, trying to angle toward the center aisle that would lead to either the front door or the back entrance.
