“One business isn’t enough for you?” he teased, passing her the stack of mail.
“I’m playing hooky. Besides, I heard there were muffins.” The mailman looked at the glass case. “They must be good. There’s only one left.”
Nora went behind the counter, popped the last apple crumble muffin in a bag, and handed it to the mail carrier. “On the house.”
After adding a few dollars to the register to cover the cost of the muffin, Nora decided to put the mail on the back counter with the rest of Celeste’s paperwork. She scooped up the pile of catalogs, leaflets, and letters, but a postcard escaped the bundle and fluttered to the floor.
As Nora bent down, her eye was immediately drawn to the name in the addressee section. The card wasn’t addressed to Celeste Leopold, but Cecily Leopold. And though Nora didn’t mean to read the message, it was so short that she couldn’t help noticing it.
YOU CAN RUN
BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE
Nora crouched over the postcard, frozen with dread. Once the initial shock wore off, she turned the card over. The front showed a photograph of a lake surrounded by pine trees. It was a tranquil scene that could have been taken anywhere.
She flipped it over again and was struck anew by a sense of dread. Tearing her gaze away from the message, she examined the post office stamp. The card had been mailed from Pine Hollow, North Carolina. Nora had never heard of the place.
Holding the card by a corner, she stood up. Celeste was letting a woman smell a bottle of CBD oil. Another man was heading Nora’s way, so she shoved the postcard into her pocket, carried the mail to the back, and returned in time to meet his look of disappointment.
“You’re out of muffins.” He sighed. “And the bakery’s closed too. I could really use a Monday pick-me-up, but I can’t seem to find one anywhere.”
“I might be able to help. Give me one second.”
Nora called Miracle Books and had a brief exchange with Sheldon. Afterward, she gave the man directions to the bookshop, where a chocolate book pocket would be waiting for him.
Nora wiped off the smudges and fingerprints from the food and jewelry cases. It was time for her to leave, but she didn’t want to interrupt Celeste when she might be in the middle of making a sale.
“I need to run,” she called out as she opened the front door. “Your mail’s on the back counter.”
Celeste gave her half a wave and forced a brief smile. She looked like a different person from the lively, salubrious woman Nora had met a week ago. Her luminescent skin was now dull. The skin around her eyes was discolored from lack of sleep and she seemed gaunt. Grief was eating away at her at an alarming rate.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Nora left.
On her way back to the bookstore, she studied the postcard again.
Someone wanted to scare Celeste, but Nora wasn’t going to allow that. She and her friends would form a protective circle around Celeste. The woman had been through enough.
Pulling out her phone, Nora called Sheriff McCabe. “Can you come to the bookshop right now?” she said when he came on the line. “I think I found something that ties to your investigation. To Bren.”
“Is it important?” McCabe asked. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.”
“I’ll let you decide. It’s a threat. It came with today’s mail and is addressed to Celeste.”
After a moment’s pause, McCabe said, “I’m on my way.”
Chapter 9
Evil travels the world in anonymity, its presence revealed only by the periodic consequences of its desires.
—Dean Koontz
One Monday every month, after school let out, a group of moms met at Miracle Books. They’d have coffee and chat while their kids did homework or read a book. As Nora walked back to the ticket agent’s office, she was happy to see the usual moms in their usual chairs in the readers’ circle. Their kids were sprawled on the ground of the children’s section, surrounded by textbooks, notebooks, and picture books. It was a charmingly domestic scene.
“See? These women know I’m not in league with the devil,” Nora told Sheldon.
Sheldon grunted. “That’s because they didn’t hear your idea for our Spooky Storytime.”
Nora laughed. “I was only kidding when I mentioned All My Friends Are Dead.”
“No kid wants to see illustrations of a depressed dinosaur, no matter how well they’re drawn. That T. rex makes me feel like I need a double dose of Prozac.”
“You can’t say anything about my choice. You picked Room on the Broom. Do you really think this is a good time to read a book about a witch?” Nora shot back.