Page 107 of Will Bark for Pizza
“Fucking Margene.”
That seemed to be the new mantra around here. I didn’t fully understand the mess that woman left in her greedy wake, but I understood enough. I made a mental note to chat with Nana about a PI again before she left. Ifshe didn’t know one, I had other military buddies who might.
“You okay?” I asked, tucking my hands into my pockets so they behaved.
“Yeah. It’s just . . . overwhelming.”
“Understandable.”
“Mom never kept books up here.”
“No?”
“Not books for the store. Just ARCs.”
“What are ARCs?”
“Advance reader copies, for books that hadn’t come out yet. Publishers sent them in hopes Mom or anyone else working at the bookstore would read them. Then, when the books did release, they could talk about them to customers,” Kira explained. “Getting to read my most anticipated books early was one of my favorite things about this store. It felt like I was part of a secret club.”
I scanned the room, counting at least a dozen stacks of boxes.
“These can’t all be ARCs?”
“No. These appear to be boxes of books for the store that never got unpacked.” She moved about the room, weaving her way through the stacks, and searching labels for clues. “I just don’t get it. Someone had to carry theseuphere.”
Considering the back room downstairs was also full of similar boxes, my best guess was that someone moved the oldest boxes upstairs to make room for the new.
“I just can’t fathom why Margene would hide boxes of books instead of putting them out to sell.” Kira shook her head. “If she was so hell-bent on stealing from Mom’sstore, you think she’d want it to make the most money possible.”
I followed her toward the back of the room, to the window that overlooked the street. It was dusty, and the blinds had seen better days. But the lone window let in a fair amount of light. Light that revealed a heavy layer of dust on almost every surface. Except one random rectangle on the floor. One large enough for a sleeping bag and a dog.
Fuck, she reallydidsleep up here that first night.
It felt like months since I jumped into Ghost Lake to rescue Kira.
Luke and Connor have talked about her for years. That’s why it feels longer.
“What did your mom use this space for?”
“Relaxing,” Kira said, a smile forming once again. I felt the heaviest of her tension uncoil. “She came up here to read a book or take a nap, or to brainstorm her next display. Mom loved creating displays.”
“What will you use it for?”
Kira turned a slow circle, her gaze scanning the area. “I always thought it’d make a cute studio apartment.”
“You want to live up here?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. Husker’s spent enough time cooped up in an apartment. And this one doesn’t even have a balcony. But it might make a cute writing loft. You know, for someone who’s actually writing books.”
I had no conscious memory of stepping close to Kira, only the knowledge that I was now near enough to touch her elbow. The gentle contact felt more like grabbing anelectric fence, but I held on despite the strong current. “I saw you making notes.”
“Making notes and writing a book are two very different things.”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes sparkled at the easy challenge I offered. It was the same spark I noticed when she scribbled her first note during the book club meeting yesterday—the first of at least half a dozen. I felt certain Kira had another book in her. Hell, I suspected she had dozens more. She just needed to believe it, too.
“How would you decorate it?” I asked.
