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She breathed slowly to calm her racing heart. It had never occurred to her when she’d taken over the shop from her grandfather that she’d have to deal with shit like this. Some of the book distributors were bad because they were obviously trying to cheat her, but having members of the public come in, yell at her, and physically attack her was something she’d never anticipated. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to run the bookshop.
Remy straightened and turned a circle in the space, checking for anything out of place or any drips of blood on the floor. Everything seemed to be fine. Books lined every shelf, all neatly in rows with their colorful spines cheering her up. A window seat beside the door had bright red, yellow, and green pillows that attracted any children entering. The front right section of the store was devoted to children’s books. Random stuffed animals were placed on the shelves among the books. Her youthful regulars each had their favorite one they liked to visit.
The store extended farther off to the left. Bookshelves ran along the walls surrounding a seating area that had a comfy sofa and some chairs. A couple of small tables with lamps on them book-ended the sofa as well to make the place feel more like someone’s living room than a store.
Taking inventory of the space helped calm her. Antique New York cityscape pictures covered the faded rose wallpaper on the bit of wall space that was available between the shelves. Two tapestries hung on opposite sides of the shop, one with a horse that covered the doorway to her grandfather’s apartment and the other with trees and flowers. It all came together to create a homey atmosphere, one that she dearly loved.
At the back of the shop, there was a small doorway that led to the kitchenette area. She walked through on wobbly knees and went straight to the kettle. Her hand shook as she filled it with water and then plugged it in. She needed a cup of tea to calm her nerves.
The little cuckoo clock on the wall chimed, and the cuckoo came out, announcing it was nine p.m. Closing time if she worked anywhere else, but her grandfather had kept the little shop open to midnight on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. He claimed there was no bigger horror than facing a weekend without something to read. She could have told him there were much bigger horrors out there, as she’d discovered this week, but he wasn’t here anymore, and she missed him more than she thought possible.
His presence had always been calming for her and she treasured the late nights she’d sat with him, keeping him company until he was ready to close. She was quite sure he kept the shop open because he was a night owl and would rather be sitting in the shop than upstairs in his apartment. It made him feel more connected to the rest of the world. She smiled at the memory of him sitting behind the counter until all hours of the night, reading whatever latest author interested him.
An ache rose in her chest, and she let out a shaky breath. He’d been gone six months, and she missed him every single day. Her parents had died in a car accident when she was in her late teens, and he’d taken over being both parent and grandparent all in one.
He’d been thrilled when she chose to become a librarian instead of using her law degree. She liked books, and he thought it was a good fit. In the end, she wasn’t so sure. Being a librarian is more about online resources these days, and although she liked research, she only liked it when she was interested in what she was looking up. Otherwise, time spent investigating a topic was deadly boring to her.
Not that she thought she’d like law any better. Her father had been a lawyer and looking back now, it was obvious that’s why she’d gone to law school. Trying to keep some connection to him. Either way, she wasn’t happy, and she’d been thinking about a career change when her grandfather had passed away unexpectedly.
Okay, at ninety-seven it wasn’t really unexpected, except that it was. He had always been so young, so vital. She’d never really thought he would go away and leave her alone. She’d thought he would live forever. But now, she was an orphan. Shaking her head at her own silliness, an orphan at her age, she poured the heated water into her teacup and added a bit of milk.
She left the room and made her way back to the front of the shop. Setting her cup on the counter, she sat down and made herself comfortable on the high-backed stool. Thinking her grandfather would live forever was a product of not having anyone else. She’d thought that Drew, her former boyfriend, would be the one. They’d dated for four years but he’d ended up cheating on her with one of her colleagues and then running off and marrying the other woman instead.
Remy let out another sigh. Looking back, she should have realized sooner that Drew was cheating and probably subconsciously she had, but she’d lost her parents and her grandmother, and she didn’t want to lose anyone else. That fear of being all alone had blinded her to the truth.
And yet… she was all alone. The thing she hadn’t wanted and, in the end, as much as she missed her grandfather, there was no way she was opening the door for anyone else to come into her life. She couldn’t take anymore loss. She’d gone on dates since the breakup, but none of those men seemed to click any buttons for her, not even the sex button. She’d decided that she was fine on her own. And when it came to sex… well she had a box of toys that could deliver the same thing any potential partner could. Just as she reached over and picked up her cup, the door burst open, and a fresh-faced uniformed cop entered. She swore as she spilled some tea.
“Are you the one that made the nine-one-one call?” he demanded.
She grabbed a cloth she kept beneath the counter and mopped up the spill. “Yes, I am.” Good thing the weird stranger had already left, if this was the police response time. She’d have been long dead. Of course, she had cancelled the call so it wasn’t really fair to judge them, she reminded herself as she put the rag back under the counter.
“Do you know his name, the guy that was in here?”
She frowned. “No. I have no idea who he is. Why? Can’t he tell you? He has an accent, and his English didn’t seem strong. Maybe he doesn’t understand you.”
“Lady, he doesn’t understand anyone. He’s dead.”
Blood rushed to her head and, dizzy, she leaned back on the stool. She blinked. How could he be dead? He was just here, yelling at her. “I… How…” With the amount of blood on his sweater, he must have bled out.
“Can you tell me what happened exactly?” the officer asked just as the door opened and a man walked in. He was wearing a suit and a long overcoat. He had startlingly blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, Officer,” she said, and then turned to the stranger. “Can I help you?”
“Er, I think I’m here to help you. Lacy Carmichael asked me to stop by.”
Lacy. Right. She’d forgotten all about that with the events of the evening. Shit. “Um, right.” She didn’t feel like dealing with that right now. “Tell Lacy thanks, but we can pick this up another time. I don’t want to keep you.”
He glanced at the cop and then back at her. His gaze seemed to be asking her a question, but she had no idea what it was he wanted. “I’ve got time. I’ll just keep out of your way until you’re free.” He gave her a brief smile and wandered off into the shop.
Great.Just what she needed. She turned back to the cop just as another uniform officer entered the shop. The first one nodded to the second one and then turned back to her. “You were gonna tell me what happened.”
“Right.” She drew a breath and then launched into her explanation. “So then, he just lurched out the door.”
“I see,” the first officer said. “You didn’t notice he was hurt when he came in?”
The second officer started moving around her shop. She wasn’t thrilled that he was inspecting things, but she supposed it couldn’t do any harm. “No. His coat covered most of his chest. I didn’t notice.”
“And he kept asking about shoes?”
