Celeste appeared to be running out of steam. She fell silent and worked on the last stone. When she was done, she showed it to the rest of the women. A pair of mushroom stools were pulled up to a mushroom table holding a vase full of daisies.
“Back when I was sculptor, I’d sell concrete garden statuary for extra pocket money. Once, Bren fell in love with this mushroom stool I’d made, and I ended up making two stools and a little table for us. Juliana and that mushroom set are the only pieces I’ll never sell.”
“That’s so sweet.” Hester put a hand to her heart. “Where is that set?”
“In my spare bedroom, which is a complete mess.”
Thinking of the light under the bedroom door, Nora said, “Well, your bathroom is neat as a pin. I need the recipe for your homemade cleaners.”
“My secret is fresh herbs. I put them in my soap, shampoo, cleaners, tea—everything. That’s why I have an indoor grow room,” Celeste said, lowering her voice. “Just don’t tell my landlord. I don’t think he’d approve.”
June put a hand on Celeste’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. This group knows how to keep a secret.”
The room went still, and Celeste looked like she might want to share another secret. Her lips parted and she drew in a fortifying breath. But what came out was a sigh.
Hester filled the silence by asking if anyone wanted pie.
“I’d love some tomorrow. Right now, I’m pretty tired,” said Celeste.
Though the evening had clearly taxed Celeste, it had been good for her too. She’d shared conversation, memories, and food with a group of women who wanted to be her friends. She was hurting, but for a little while, the Secret, Book, and Scone Society had held the hurt at bay. After accepting gentle hugs from her guests, Celeste thanked them for their kindness.
It was a quiet walk to the parking lot. Every woman was lost in her own thoughts.
When they reached June’s car, Nora turned to her friends. “So that grow room Celeste mentioned? I tried the door, but it was locked.”
Hester’s eyes grew round as dinner plates. “Could it be that kind of grow room?”
Estella dismissed this idea with a wave. “No way. A social worker has been in that apartment. And what about your man? Hasn’t Jasper been up there too?”
“I’ll ask him if he saw the whole apartment or just the public spaces,” said Hester.
June took out her key fob and unlocked her car. “Does it matter if her entire apartment is full of marijuana plants? Pot didn’t kill her daughter. Red meat did.”
“It’s the locked door,” said Hester. “And all the things Celeste doesn’t say. We know how to keep secrets. We also know what it feels like to be crushed by the weight of a secret. Celeste is being crushed.”
The truth of Hester’s words sat between the four friends, and for tonight, it seemed that no one else had anything to say.
As Nora hugged herself against the cold and tried to come up with a connection linking the Potion Page, Still Waters, Bren’s fatal case of alpha-gal, and a locked grow room, a truck pulled into the parking lot.
As the headlights cut a path through the darkness, the four women exchanged good nights. June, Estella, and Hester climbed into the Bronco, and Nora turned toward home.
She didn’t want to cross the parking lot until the driver of a dark-colored pickup chose a spot. But he seemed to change his mind about parking and started circling back to the exit instead.
As the truck passed under the streetlight, the driver looked at Nora. He gave her a leering smile and a slow wave. Nora’s blood went cold. She didn’t know the man, but she recognized him.
“Let me in!” she shouted, slapping the side of June’s car.
She had to call the sheriff. She had to tell him that Lazarus Harper was here in Miracle Springs.
Chapter 14
In life, the monsters win.
—George RR Martin
A ringing sound jolted Nora awake.
The darkness in her bedroom told her that it was too early for her morning alarm. Even in the dead of winter, a weak light slipped through the curtains, confirming that it was time to get up. But there was no light now. Nora’s sleep-glazed eyes saw only blackness.
As the noise persisted, she realized that it wasn’t the bugle call of her alarm but the harp notes of her ringtone. She fumbled for the phone and brought it to her ear.
“Sorry to call so early, but I wanted to tell you that Lazarus Harper is in the drunk tank,” said Hester.
Propping herself on one elbow, Nora glanced at the clock. It was just past five, which meant Hester was calling from the bakery. “What happened?”