That poor baby.“What will happen to it now? Will it go to its father?”
“No, no. If Ginny even knew who the father was, she didn’t make that information known,” Mrs Ellis said. “Brenda is going to adopt the child just as soon as she’s able to, isn’t that wonderful?”
Brenda beamed. “I always wanted a child of my own. If there is to be a silver lining in this tragedy, it’s that I can give that child a happy home.”
A nurse came in and shooed us away so Mrs. Winstone could rest. In the hall, Mrs. Ellis shivered. “Whatever am I going to do? If Dorothy really is killing members of the Banned Book Club, then I could be next!”
“I’m not going to let that happen.” I thought of the Terror of Argleton, and the elaborate traps concocted by Greta and the other shop owners in the village. “I have an idea. We’re going to set a trap.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“How exactly are you planning to turn my shop into a trap,again?” Heathcliff growled.
“It’s simple. I’ve left notes in Mrs. Ellis’ and Miss Blume’s mailboxes inviting them to a special sleepover meeting of the Banned Book Club to honor the passing of their dear friends and to talk about a recruitment drive to get more young people reading banned books. It will be held right here in the shop. Mrs. Ellis is going to make sure she mentions it to every gossiping old biddy she knows, which is basically all of them. We’ll make sure word gets back to Dorothy Ingram. Tonight, the ladies camp out in the World History room, and no food or object will be allowed past the door unless any of us have personally acquired or inspected it. And then we wait. Quoth will follow Dorothy and see what she does.”
“I have a problem with this plan,” Heathcliff announced.
“Only one?” Morrie piped up, tapping on his phone. “I have at least seventeen, starting with the fact that you’re sleeping downstairs with the old biddies and not upstairs in my bed.”
“I’m not exactly going to besleepingwith a murderer on the loose,” I pointed out.
“You wouldn’t be sleeping in my bed, either, gorgeous.”
“What I want to know is why do all the bloody traps have to involve my shop?” Heathcliff grumbled. “And why do you have to put yourself in danger?”
“Because if something happened to Mrs. Ellis, I couldn’t live with myself knowing I could have done something. That’s my final word.”
I left the boys to secure the windows and stage a booby trap in the doorway of the World History room, then went across to Greta’s bakery and ordered a big stack of food, which I watched her prepare and hand to me. I couldn’t afford to take any chances. Then, I went to the off-license and chose a few bottles of wine. I checked the lids thoroughly to ensure they were still sealed. At Mrs. Ellis’ flat, I pulled sheets and duvets off the bed and carried them next door to set up for the sleepover.
Quoth met me in the doorway and relieved me of my burden. “This place almost looks cozy now.”
I had to agree. They’d shifted all the furniture to the side, the same as I’d done for the Banned Book Club meeting. Morrie had hooked a projector up to one of his hard drives and was already rolling the 1939 version ofWuthering Heights,with Laurence Olivier doing his best smoldering Heathcliff.
“If I wasn’t fearful for my life, this would be quite fun!” Mrs. Ellis swiped a cream doughnut from the top of the stack and stretched out across the chaise lounge. “You should run events like this in the bookshop more often. I’m sure Brenda would love to bring the youth group.”
My mind raced, thinking of book-themed movie nights with the projector, and maybe lectures on local history or book launches. “I’m trying to convince Heathcliff.”
“No,” said Heathcliff from behind his desk in the other room.
“You didn’t even hear what I said.”
“You want to turn the shop into an attractive place people want to come, and I said no.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s not what you were saying on Friday night.”
Mrs. Ellis bolted upright, her eyes dancing. “What was Friday night, dearie?”
My face flushed. “Go back to your movie, Mrs. Ellis. I need to speak to Heathcliffprivately.”
She squeezed my hand, pulling me closer so she could whisper something so filthy it made me blush from head to toe.
How did this woman teach innocent children for forty years?
I slipped out of the room and sat on the edge of Heathcliff’s desk. “They’re all set up, snug as two bugs in rugs.”
“That’s a terrible saying. A bug wouldn’t need a rug, barely even a handkerchief.” He turned a page in his book. “Morrie wants you upstairs.”
