My teensy fairy was darting around the main showroom, checking out items. “Tá,” she said in her native tongue, which meant thanks, even though she was dressed in her typical silver frock and silver slippers.
“Idris dropped off payment for the porcelain bell this morning and brought a dozen gingerbread cookies.” Joss pointed to a Sweet Treats box on the counter.
“A woman true to her word. I like that.” I reached into the box, pulled out a cookie, and took a bite. “Yum!” I loved the flavor of ginger.
“The latch is broken,” Fiona announced.
I gazed at her as she fluttered outside the cabinet of snow globes. “How did it happen?”
“I see fingerprints. Little ones.”
I drew near to inspect and agreed. A child must have yanked on the door and reached inside for a globe, but their parent caught them in the act. The child dropped the globe, causing the crack, and slammed the door shut, breaking the latch. The mishap was nothing more than an accident.Phew.
“I’m here,” Lissa Reade trilled as she pushed through the front door. Her short-cropped hair was windblown, her cheeks pink from exertion.
“Did you run the whole way?” I asked.
Lissa was the kind of person who could keep up with women half her age. Stylish and in her seventies, she exuded confidence, intelligence, and compassion. “Me? Run? Heaven forbid,” she said. “But I did keep a good pace. Have you read the book?”
“I couldn’t put it down,” I said.
“I enjoyed knowing the fictional town is located near Carmel,” Joss replied. “It made it more personal.”
“Excellent.” Lissa clapped her hands. “Many of the Aroma Wellness customers are going to join in the fun.” Recently she had invested in a spa with her granddaughters. I’d visited and had enjoyed a fabulous mindful meditation.
“I saw many of their names on the guest list.” I offered her a cup of coffee from the pot brewing behind the sales counter.
She declined.
Fiona flew in front of Lissa. Like Joss and me, Lissa could see fairies. In fact, she was one of the first in Carmel to admit it.
“Good morning, little one,” Lissa said.
Fiona blew a kiss.
“Now, let’s pin down the menu,” Lissa went on. “Of course we’ll need holiday-themed desserts. Iced sugar cookies. Peppermint cookies. A chocolate yule log. Do you think we need to serve tea sandwiches?”
I shook my head. “Those aren’t fan favorites.”
“Gotcha. As for the music, will Meaghan play the harp?”
Meaghan Brownie was my best friend. She owned Flair Gallery, a well-respected art shop in the courtyard. On weekends, she shared her musical talents with our customers.
“I was hoping she could play ‘Fairy Nightsongs,’” Lissa continued. “She sings, doesn’t she? The song has Celtic origins and is so delicate. She doesn’t need a big voice. She just has to carry a tune.”
“She can, but will she?” I mused. In our senior year of college, Meaghan gave up the piano and took up the harp. She also joined a madrigals group, but I hadn’t heard her sing in ages.
Fiona winked. “I’ll convince her. If she needs a little courage, presto!” She frittered her fingers as if sprinkling a potion.
We all laughed.
“Welcome,” I called as a man strolled into the shop and let the door close with aclack. I jolted when I caught sight of his getup—white shirt, red suspenders, and baggy chinos. Wasthis the person who had frightened Shara? The one she’d called an ogre? He did look scary, given the fact he suffered from periorbital edema, plus his nose was way too large for his face, his ears were ginormous, and his drooping jowls gave him the appearance of a bloodhound. A man bag was slung across his thick body.
“Welcome,” I repeated. “I’m Courtney if you need anything.”
He waved a hand overhead but didn’t make eye contact.
“I know him,” Joss said, “but I can’t place where I’ve seen him.”
