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

We headed back out onto the floor, and I went to relieve Marcus at the register and tell him to go take a break, enjoy the nice weather. “Oh, I’m waiting for my mom. She texted a few minutes ago, said she’d be here soon.”

Then, as if on cue, this gorgeous black woman with thin braids twisted into a crown came through the door, and Marcus’s face lit up. “That her?” I asked behind my own smile.

“Yep,” he looked at me as he headed toward his mom. “Do you mind if I introduce you?”

“Mind? I’d be offended if you didn’t.” He laughed and then went and hugged his mother before bringing her over to the counter. “Mrs. Dawson, you have raised one fine son.”

“Thank you, Ms. Beckett. I’m glad you can see that, too.” She reached across the counter to shake my hand. “And thank you, too, for giving Marcus work, and in a bookstore, no less. You know this boy loves books?”

“Oh yes, ma’am, I do. If he’s not skating or working, he’s reading.”

Mrs. Dawson beamed. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Beckett.”

“Harvey, please.”

“Harvey, then. Marcus, you keep on doing your thing. I’m going to browse.”

I leaned over to Marcus. “You’re due a break. Why don’t you give your mom the grand tour?”

“You sure? It’s been kind of busy.”

“I’ve got it.” I pointed behind Marcus toward where Daniel was getting Taco and Mayhem a bowl of water. “I have help if I need it.”

Marcus caught up to his mom, who had made a stop at the wine table first thing. My kind of woman, I thought.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of activity. Between customers, I tried to ponder what possible reason a woman could have for killing her own child, but I kept coming up empty. Nothing about the idea of Divina killing her daughter made much sense. I could see, however, why she might have killed Deputy Williams to cover up the first murder. If the deputy had come upon something incriminating – what that would be I hadn’t yet figured out either – Divina might have acted just to “tie up loose ends” as they say on the TV dramas.

By the end of the day, I still had no solid motivation for why Divina would kill Lucia Stevensmith, and it looked more and more like I’d have to tell the sheriff everything I knew in the morning. But I still had a few hours, and I was determined to make the most of them.

At 4:45, I started our normal closing ritual. I walked around and told the remaining customers that we would be closing soon and asked them to bring their final purchases to the registers. I turned off the neon sign and asked Daniel to scout for misplaced books and reshelve them. I peeked in and saw that Rocky and Phoebe were beginning their clean-up, too, and when Rocky caught my eye, she whisper-shouted, “Best day yet.” I grinned. I was happy for her. Our arrangement was that she got thirty percent of the take from the café as well as her hourly wage, and I hoped these big sale days were helping cover the costs of her next semester at school.

Marcus and his mom had spent the better part of the afternoon recommending books to customers, and the customers were thrilled. They were a power duo, passing book titles back and forth between them and delighting the customers with the depth of their knowledge.

At five o’clock, the last customer headed out, and I locked the door behind them. Ms. Dawson stopped by the register while Marcus helped Daniel with the reshelves. “I heard about Ms. Stevensmith,” Ms. Dawson said, a frown on her face. “That woman had done me no kindness, but I never wished her ill either. Sad what happened to her.”

I nodded. “It is. I’m sorry about what she did to you, though, although I have to admit that it was reading about that story and then hearing about Marcus’s, er, situation that led me to try and get him some work.”

She tilted her head. “Really? Well, then I suppose something good came out of it all, didn’t it?”

“I guess it did. Actually, I know it did, especially for me. Marcus is amazing, and I hope he’ll stay on here full-time, maybe even think about stepping in as my assistant manager once my payroll numbers allow for that.”

Ms. Dawson looked down, and I thought I saw her wipe a tear away. “I expect he’d like that. I know I would. This place,” she gestured around the shop with an open hand, “is good. Real good.”

I blushed. “Thank you. I have a question for you, too. I don’t know if you have room in your schedule for this, but I was wondering if I could hire you to write a book review for us each week – any book you want as long as I can order it for the store. Just a few paragraphs about why someone might want to read it?” I paused and tried to read the baffled expression on her face. “What do you think?

“You want to hire me to read books and write about them.”

“Well, yes. I mean I can’t pay much, surely not what you’re worth—“

“Yes. I’d love to. You don’t even have to pay me.” She was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Maybe Marcus and I can write some together sometime?”

“I love that idea, but I’m going to pay you. We all have to eat.”

Marcus strolled over and looked from his mom to me. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you about it over dinner. Tacos are on me.” She pointed out the window toward Lu’s truck.

I laughed. “See you at home later, Marcus?” I glanced at his mother really quickly, but clearly he had told her he was staying with Mart and I because she didn’t bat an eye. “Tomorrow, when you come in, we’ll talk about your full-time schedule, if that suits.”

He looked at me with a wide smile. “That suits, Ms. B. See you later.”

As they passed under the ringing bell, Mart came over, a box full of wine bottles under her arm. “That was kind of you, Harvey. I’ll run the numbers tonight for you, see what kind of salary you can offer your new assistant manager.”

I shrugged and smiled. “I could use the help.”

“Yes, you could, and you can’t help yourself. You love being kind to people. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

I started to hug her but stopped short. “Oh, Mart, but this doesn’t mean I’m not going to start paying rent—“

“Gracious, Harvey Beckett. Of course, you’re going to pay rent. I would never doubt that for a minute. I expect the last two weeks of income have you set up well for the rest of the month. Budgets, we’ll work on budgets for both of us this week.”

I gave her that hug now. “Okay, see you at home in a bit?”

“Yep, just going to drop off my trusty assistant,” she gestured with her head at the young woman by the door, “and return these last bottles of wine to the winery – we sold all but five. BIG weekend for us. Then, I’ll be back. Cereal for dinner?”

“Perfect. See you there.”

I was just finishing the register count and putting together the bank deposit when Cate and Lucas knocked on the glass. I let them in and then looked outside. “You guys. You didn’t have to put everything away. I was headed out to do that. You did so much already.”

Cate wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed. “Harvey, do you really think we did more than you did today? You put together this whole event and,” she leaned over to whisper, “figured out who the murderer is. I think we can manage to fold up some tables.”

I blushed, but then peeked out the window again. “Wait, where are all the books?”

Lucas clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. “We sold all but about two dozen, and Mrs. Murphy, the librarian, came by and picked up the rest.”

“Yep! She said they’ll use some of them in their collection and the rest they’ll let the kids in the summer program cut up for art projects.” Cate laughed.

My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh no, Cate, your books.”

“Are you kidding me? Kids making art out of copies of