“I don’t mind waiting, it gives me time to get a few pages done. Olivia hasn’t been sleeping well this week, so I’m reading a lot of Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein until she finally drops off.” Sasha laid the book on the counter and tucked her purse into my office on a shelf. After washing her hands, she started a pot of coffee. “The teachers at the center think it’s a stage.”
“If you need some time off to take her to the doctor or something . . .” I hesitated. I didn’t know if poor sleep habits were something a kid needed to see a doctor for or not. Heck, what I knew about kids mostly focused on what books they’d read and at what age level.
“She’s fine. Healthy as a horse. She gets checkups over at the clinic on a regular basis. I think she is just realizing Mommy’s not around as much anymore.” Sasha smiled. “Single parenting has its drawbacks.”
“Well, if you need something, all you have to do is ask.” I opened up the dessert case and pulled out two pieces of vanilla bean cheesecake. “Like breakfast. You want one of these? I’m going to cut open a fresh cheesecake for the display later this morning.”
“Don’t have to twist my arm. Let me finish the opening list, and I’ll sit down with you until the commuters hit.” Typically, on a Thursday, the morning shift was slow. I’d added Sasha to the schedule full-time at the first of the year. Next month, I’d let her work several shifts alone, but for now, she always had a backup—and no one’s hours were affected. When she did start working by herself, I’d give her some of Jackie’s shifts or mine so I didn’t short Toby. We worked on the opening, and then I opened my laptop to my bookseller’s website and started making a list for next week’s order.
Sasha joined me, bringing over two cups of coffee and the cheesecake. “So you’re okay with the after-school club? Jackie thinks it’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea. Ever since we installed free Wi-Fi, the teens have been hanging here after school anyway. Why not get them excited about books?” I pulled up the book she’d been reading that morning. “This one’s not out until July. But the book is part of a series. You want to start with book one?”
We made plans, ordered twenty copies to start with, and framed out a timeline. Jackie could take over the promotional part tomorrow night when she worked with Sasha. Fridays were my day off with Toby opening, then Sasha joining him midmorning and staying to help out Jackie. All in all, I had to admit, Coffee, Books, and More was running like a well-oiled machine.
Which made me worry. Nothing came easy, but not seeing a shoe dropping at the present, I pushed aside my unease.
I’d settled into reading a contemporary romance, putting aside the murder mystery I’d been devouring. It seemed wrong to be reading about a murder when we had found a dead body the night before. Of course, Doc Ames, the county coroner in Bakerstown, could have ruled Kent’s death due to natural causes by now, but you never knew.
Especially in South Cove.
The bell over the door rang and Darla Taylor burst in. She’d taken to running the mile from the winery to town three to four times a week. I’d even seen her out on the beach some days when I ran with Emma. She’d been diligent, and the effects were starting to show. She glanced at Sasha, then found me over on the couch and beelined directly for me. Sasha brought her a large glass of water.
“Thanks, doll.” Darla sucked down half of the water, pausing to breathe. She pointed to the menu board. “Get me a skinny latte, too.”
As Sasha disappeared to make the coffee, Darla finished the last of the water and wiped her mouth with her hand. She sank into the easy chair next to the couch. “I swear, getting in shape is going to kill me.”
I used a bookmark to keep my place and set the book on the coffee table. This wouldn’t be a quick conversation. “You look amazing.”
A small smile creeped onto her lips. “Let’s just say I look better. I’ve got a long way to go.”
“A journey starts with a few first steps,” I quoted a Facebook post I’d seen the other day. “Or something like that.”
Darla waved her hand. “Enough about me, what have you found out about Kent? Does Greg know who killed him yet?”
“Darla, the body was only found last night. I’m sure Greg doesn’t even know if it was murder.” I’d known Darla would be looking for insider information. She wrote for the South Cove Examiner part-time and had a nose for gossip, if not news.
“That’s not what I’ve heard.” She pulled out a small notebook she’d stuffed in a fanny pack she’d clipped around her waist, along with a five-dollar bill that she handed to Sasha as she dropped off Darla’s coffee. “Thanks, keep the change.”
Sasha disappeared behind the counter and I noticed her book disappeared, too. I’d gone and hired another book addict. Smiling, I turned back to Darla and her notepad. “You might as well just put that away. Apparently you know more than I do about the case. Why do you think it was murder?”