The second we walk through the door, I know this store is nothing like what you’d normally find. There are shelves everywhere, interspersed with tables filled with the coolest—and the strangest—things.
Everything from retro-style children’s toys to local artwork to weird little stuffed critters.
I hold one up, making a face at Gwen. She rolls her lips between her teeth, her eyes widening as she holds back a laugh.
“That one’s one of my favorites,” a gravelly voice says from the shadows. I jump, almost dropping the stuffed mouse wearing a tuxedo.
“Hey, Tula. You doing all right?” Gwen asks.
“I’m doing wonderful,” Tula says before coughing several times in a row.
“That doesn’t sound so wonderful. You need to go see Elenore at the clinic.”
“Pish. No quack doctor is going to cure me. I’ve got a natural remedy that will do the trick.”
“First of all, Nore isn’t a quack, and secondly, modernmedicine does have its uses sometimes. Don’t be stubborn if you don’t get better.”
Tula softens and pats Gwen on the arm. “You’re kind to worry, dear. I may not be fifty anymore, but I’m as healthy as a horse.”
I would really like to know Tula’s true age. With stark-white hair and deep wrinkles that show a life well-lived, she could be anywhere from seventy to a hundred. I wouldn’t put it past her to be closer to ninety. She seems like a woman who could live into her hundreds and still work like a normal person.
“I’ve been walking this Earth for almost eighty-five years, darling girl. I’ve plenty left to go.”
Did she read my mind?
Tula snorts. “No, I’m not reading your mind. I’m very good at reading people’s expressions.”
“Tula was a behavior analyst for the FBI for like twenty years,” Gwen explains.
“It was a bit of a career switch. After my partner died, I was a little lost and decided to go back to school at forty. The FBI recruited me after I graduated. I loved that job, but it was tough.”
“I think you’re my idol,” I say reverently.
Tula and Gwen laugh at me. I ask Tula a million questions about her job. She indulges me until my stomach growls loudly. Then she shoos Gwen and me out of her store to get lunch.
“Do you want us to bring you anything?” Gwen asks her.
“No, I’ve got plenty for the day. Go enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
“It was really nice to meet you, Tula.”
“I’m glad to have met you too, Gia. I hope you stick around.”
I smile at her but don’t respond. I’m not even sure what Iwould say to her. Staying isn’t an option, but the longer I’m here, the more I wonder if I shouldn’t consider it.
I internally shake that thought away. That’s ridiculous. I’m just having one of those vacation feelings that you get when you’re having a great time and wish you could stay on the beach forever.
“Where do you want to eat?” Gwen asks once we’re back outside. The wind has picked up and bites at my cheeks.
“Wherever we can get out of this wind the fastest.”
“Agreed. Come on. We can go to Desi’s.”
We walk down an alleyway, cutting behind the Grind and coming out on the other side of Holt’s law office. I try to squint through the windows to see if he’s inside, but the glass is too dark.
We end up in front of a small diner with a cute little front porch. It even has rocking chairs. I have a feeling a couple of gentlemen sit out here in the summer. A big sign across the top says Desi’s Diner, and my stomach rumbles again with the smell of fries wafting through the room as we walk inside.
“Pick a spot anywhere,” a woman calls from across the room. When she turns, I realize it’s Farrah. She looks totally different out of her vibrant teacher clothes.
