They weren’t witches. They were healers.
Celeste had said as much. Not spells.
“What about those weird symbols?” asked Nora.
“They represent phases of the moon and hours of the day. They’re arranged in a circle like a sundial. The Julianas were literate and highly skilled—qualities that probably made them targets of the superstitious or small-minded. History has not been kind to intelligent women.”
Nora’s break was almost done, but she was reluctant to let Bobbie go. “When this is all over, I want to make sure that Celeste’s book ends up with a relative. Can you help?”
“Way ahead of you, babe,” said Bobbie. “I started tracing Cecily Leopold’s genealogy after I finished translating the text from Juliana’s notebook. Celeste’s great-grandmother lived in a Black Forest town called Calw. Imagine the setting for a Brothers Grimm story, and you’ve got Calw.”
Nora’s phone pinged, signaling a new text message from Sheldon.
Help!
Dumping the remains of her lunch in the trash, Nora told Bobbie that she had to go.
“Go,” Bobbie cried. “Make the world a better place, one book at a time. I’ll text you the second I hear from that son-ofa-bitch.”
Bobbie called back within the hour with the news that Monkshood81 had replied. He wanted the book and would pay the asking price. In cash.
In her follow-up email, Bobbie said that she ran a bookstore in western North Carolina and that Monkshood81 would have to come to her to complete the transaction.
I’ll hold the book for up to seven days, she wrote. Let me know when you can get to Miracle Springs.
After a short pause, Monkshood81 responded. Tonight at ten.
Bobbie immediately rejected his proposition. That’s too late. You can come right after I close or pick another day.
Five minutes passed before a new email appeared in her inbox.
Can you guarantee our privacy?
Bobbie’s answer, which had been scripted by Sheriff McCabe, seemed to satisfy Monkshood81. His final email said, Until tonight.
“That’s when I shouted and pumped my fists in triumph,” Bobbie said.
Nora’s reaction was more circumspect. In roughly six hours, she would invite the man who’d murdered Bren and Celeste into her haven. Into her bookshop.
She was both thrilled and terrified by the thought.
Nora looked at the Hot Dudes Reading calendar tacked to the wall above the register. Gazing at Sunday’s unblemished white square, she thought about how good it would feel to wake up tomorrow knowing that the man named Wolf was locked in a cage.
*
Sheriff McCabe waited until dark before he and Deputies Andrews and Fuentes slipped inside Miracle Books through the delivery entrance.
Nora met them in the stockroom.
“Deputy Wiggins will be here shortly,” McCabe told her. “She and Deputy Perkins are in plain clothes. They’ll come in the front door. Wiggins will keep an eye on your customers while Perkins places surveillance cameras. Deputy Perkins will be our eyes tonight. She’ll be in charge of communications. Deputy Wiggins and our K-9 officer will wait in a civilian van around the corner—just in case our perp decides to run.”
“I hope he does. I’d love to see Atticus bring him down,” Nora said, thinking of the Doberman’s muscular body and sharp teeth.
Fuentes, who stood behind the sheriff, nodded in agreement.
McCabe continued his briefing as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “We’ll review everyone’s positions in the shop later on. Is Mr. Vega still here?”
“No, I sent him home. He’ll be furious when he hears about this, but if he knew what we were doing, he’d tell Hester, June, and Estella, and we’d have a helluva party.” Nora jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I still have customers, so I should get back out there.”
A young woman was waiting for her at the checkout counter. Her hair was gathered in a messy bun and she wore a cheerful yellow sweater, a down vest, and glasses with blue frames. She held several picture books in her arms and seemed in no rush to put them on the counter.
“I love your window display,” she said. “At least half of those books are on my Favorite Books of All-Time list. I became a teacher because of those books. And because of the people who recommended them to me. Who picked them?”
“Our customers,” said Nora. “We put up a sign asking folks to share the title of a book they were thankful for. We displayed the most popular titles from our inventory.”
The woman walked closer to the window and read out the names of some of the titles. “Beezus and Ramona, The Little Prince, To Kill a Mockingbird, Charlotte’s Web, Holes, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Watership Down, Anne of Green Gables, The Hobbit, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and Little Women.” She turned back to Nora. “What were some of the books that you didn’t have in stock?”