Publishable By Death by Andi Cumbo-Floyd (reading like a writer TXT) 📖

Sandy’s tres leches cake some time,” I said as I scooted after Galen.

He had already scooped up a handful of mass markets – mostly culinary cozies this time, I noticed. I slipped a copy of Avery Aames The Long Quiche Goodbye onto the top of his pile before he noticed me, and when he glanced down, he smiled. “Oh, I love that series.” Only then did he look up to see who had placed the book on his teetering stack.

“Harvey. You have good taste in mysteries.”

I grinned. “Thanks. I just love a punny title . . . and Providence, Ohio, is one of my favorite towns where people die all the time.”

Galen roared. “Yes, goodness, if the murder rates were as high in major cities as they are in these fictional small towns, we’d run out of cemeteries.”

“Let me take these for you, hold them at the desk if that’s okay?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“No, Galen. Really, thank you. You gave us a huge gift in sharing a piece of your Insta feed with us. Our business has been booming for much better reasons now.”

He looked down at the bookshelves again. “It’s the least I could do. I want more people to read, and I think small bookshops like yours are part of the key to helping that happen.”

“Well, thank you. Now, what brings you to town today? I thought you were a usual Tuesday visitor.”

He walked with me back to the counter, where Daniel was managing the line with aplomb. “I am, but I read about the street fair on your Instagram feed and couldn’t miss it. Besides, on Tuesday, I have to run another errand so can’t come then.”

His face had grown serious, so I put his books down beside Daniel and took a step closer to Galen. “Everything okay? I mean I don’t want to pry—“

His chin shot up, and I saw a glint of mischief in his eye. “Oh yes, I just have a date that afternoon is all.”

“A date. Ooh la la. Who’s the lucky woman?”

“A Bulldog named Mack.”

I cackled. “As in Mack the Mack Truck spokesdog?”

“That’s the one. He’s at the local SPCA, and I’ve decided I need a roommate.”

“Well, Galen, when Mack is ready for primetime, I hope you’ll bring him by.”

“Oh, he’ll be here for mystery Tuesdays, don’t you worry.”

I helped Daniel bag Galen’s purchases and then told Galen I looked forward to seeing Mack’s introduction on Insta. He grinned, winked, and headed toward the door before turning and saying, “Oh, I want to bid on that art piece. How do I do that?”

Daniel stepped forward. “I have to walk that way to get something at my garage. I’ll show you . . . besides, I want to take a peek myself.” Daniel winked as he held the door open for Galen.

A few minutes later, Ralph Sylvester stepped through the doors of the shop, and immediately, I saw a smile cross over his face as he stood in front of the display Mart had put together. He lifted a copy of The Green Book and gently let the pages spin past his fingers. Then, he set it back down carefully, gazed at it another minute, and then picked up a copy of Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns before heading to the armchair next to Mayhem and Taco and beginning to read.

I looked around the rest of the store – most of the chairs were full of people reading or talking with one another. The café was buzzing, and Mart’s tasting line was impressive, even with the extra help she’d called in from the winery. As Marcus swung by after doing a quick pick-up of the store, I asked him to take over the register so I could step out and take a look at the fair and see how Cate and Lucas were doing.

When I walked out onto the sidewalk, I took a deep breath of warm spring air. It was gorgeous out here. The sun was sharing her perfect spring glow, making everything sparkle just a bit, and I figured the temperature was in the mid-sixties. I couldn’t have ordered a better weather day. The sheriff had been right.

I gave Cate a wave as I stepped out into the street and looked back at the shop. She was busy telling people about her books, and I could see Lucas nearby doing the same. Several people had stacks of books in their hands, and the smile on Cate’s face confirmed that she was happy to have made the decision to donate her books for the scholarship fund.

The middle of the road was full of people – many with cups of coffee from our café and the other restaurants – and I noticed a fair number of cinnamon rolls and the tell-tale remnants of icing on a few faces. Most of all, though, people looked happy . . . that kind of happy that comes when you are outside on the first warm day of spring, when you have the promise of a garden to plant and picnics to plan, when everything feels like it’s opening up after the long, dark days of winter. Right then and there, I decided this would have to be an annual affair, and I thought how lovely it would be to schedule it the same time we did the Welcome to Spring event at the shop. Maybe call the whole thing The Welcome to Spring fair.

I was letting myself daydream about Stephen and Walter coming in to coordinate the event, maybe even construct a small stage for music at the end of the road, and seeing Galen as our media chair with Marcus managing the shop while I coordinated the readers and advertising. I could feel myself smiling as I realized that all my hard work over the past six months, that the utter change in my life since moving from San Francisco, had been worth it in every way.

I was content.

And then, I heard the shouting. It was coming from up the street, just beside Max Davies’ shop. “You enabled her, you old coot.” Max was angry. His voice was all screechy, and clearly, he wasn’t worried about drawing negative attention because his voice could beat the band.

I hurried over, hoping to diffuse the situation before the pleasant mood of this Sunday morning was disturbed. In front of Chez Cuisine, I found Max towering over Divina Stevensmith, who looked both furious and dangerous. Her hands were bunched at her sides, and she had drawn herself up to her full height so she could get closer to Max’s face as he screamed at her. “You should have reined her in. She was your daughter,” Max shouted.

“Don’t you dare tell me how I should have raised my daughter, you ingrate. You have no idea!” All my interactions with Divina had given me a sense of her as a quiet, almost meek woman, but now, I was seeing her warrior side, and it was scary. I couldn’t help but root for her though, after all the man was insulting her daughter, her dead daughter.

Their voices were getting louder as they continued to hurl insults at one another, and the crowd was gathering from up and down the street.

Oh man, this isn’t good, I thought. The last thing we needed was to make this about murder when really it needed to be about the life of Deputy Williams.

Just when I thought I was going to have to step in and break it up, Elle Heron rushed over and stood between Max and Divina. I stepped closer with the idea of providing her back-up, but she didn’t need me. In a low, growl of a voice, she said, “You two are making a scene. Max, go back inside. I’ll come talk to you in a minute.” She glared at him until he stomped his foot like a three-year-old and then went into his restaurant.

Elle then took Divina by the arm and led her away from the crowd, who had, thankfully, already started to disperse once the spectacle was over. I followed behind the two women, hoping I might be able to comfort Divina, get her a glass of water or something.

As I got closer behind them, I heard Elle say, “Seriously, you have the gall to cause a scene. You! You think no one knows, but I know. I know Divina.”

The tiny, older woman looked at her and said, “If you know, then, you know I’m not someone to be trifled with. You best mind yourself, Elle. I will do what I need to do.” Then Divina strode off back toward the co-op without so much as a backward glance.

I had no idea what I’d just heard, but I didn’t think Divina had meant for me to hear that threat. Elle looked pretty shaken – but from anger or fear I couldn’t tell. Still, I had to know what she knew, so I slid up behind her and laid a hand between her shoulder blades. She jumped and let out a little squeal.

“Oh, Elle, I’m so sorry,” I said as I stepped around in front of her with my hands up. “I just heard what Divina said and wanted to be sure you were okay.” I could see the tears pooled in her eyes, but I wasn’t sure they were there because I startled her or because of what Divina had said. “What’s going on?”

She looked around quickly and then took my elbow and led me to her shop and then into the back cooler where she kept the flowers. I shivered. I’d had a bad experience in a cooler once, and given the circumstances, I didn’t love being in here with Elle, although it was looking less and less like she was actually a suspect.

“Divina can’t know I was talking to you about this. It’ll put you in danger.”

“Wait, what?! Danger? Are you in danger? From Divina? What is—?”

She put a finger up to her lips. “I’ll explain. Just can I get a minute to catch my breath?” She gave me a little smile as she sat down on a chair in the corner and started selecting stems of flowers from the five-gallon buckets at her feet. Her hands were shaking,