Page 3 of Will Bark for Pizza
One by one, the books sank below the surface.
I sat up on the board, watching entire stacks of booksplummet right through the water. Mom locked eyes with me for a single beat, her expression pleading.
And then, she disappeared.
I woke up in a cold sweat.
After that dream, I felt compelled to come back home. So much so that I started packing in the middle of the night. Husker was not pleased. He liked his lazy mornings. But he liked the threat of being left behind even less, so he stayed glued to my side as I paced around my apartment, filling bags.
I could hardly fathom that Mom had been gone for so long. I yearned for a few lazy days hanging out in her bookstore, reading in the corner nook, soaking up the sunlight. Lazy bookstore days were the cure to life’s toughest ailments—skinned knees, disappointing news, and broken hearts.
“Add a mini life crisis to that list,” I mumbled as we passed what the locals called Gift Shop Alley, eyes peeled for my brother, the police chief. He liked to park in the alleys, barely noticeable until it was too late to hit your brakes without him noticing. Luke wouldn’t hesitate to pull me over in a heartbeat. His grumpiness knew no bounds, on the best of days. If he was in a bad mood, he might just find a reason to arrest me.
“At least Aspen doesn’t hate me,” I said the words over my shoulder, in Husker’s general direction. But he was too focused on a golden retriever walking past Bert’s Shirts to hear me.
Aspen was the rarest, most wonderful kind of friend.
It’s why I set my sights on her bakery down the street.I certainly didn’t need more sweets, but I craved a friendly face before my family got hold of me.
A block from Frosted Peaks, I noticed a new pizzeria beside the veterinary clinic. Its sign was purple and whimsical, set against the typical log planks that adorned nearly every business exterior in town. Pizza Patty’s. The logs had a freshness to them, as though they were recently re-stained. They glowed like toasted marshmallows against the sunlight.
The place looked busy, and there was a water bowl outside its door.Dog friendly. I hoped I’d be in town long enough to try it. The way Husker stationed himself at the window, hoovering up great whiffs of pepperoni-scented air, suggested he did, too. That dog lived for pizza.
Before I could catch a glimpse of the patio that snaked around the corner of the building, my gaze snagged on a large window sign directly across the street. The bold red letters seemed to reach into my chest, twist around my heart, and squeeze, like a woman giving birth with no drugs.
Going Out of Business Sale.
My foot slammed on the brake in the middle of Main Street.
I couldn’t breathe.
My throat closed, as though hands were strangling it shut.
I stared at the sign in red letters, taking up more than half the display window of Brenda’s Book Nook, and I couldn’t fucking breathe.
What the hell?
Communication with my family certainly dwindledover the past year, but it wasn’t nonexistent. No one had said a damn thing about Mom’s bookstore fuckingclosing.
Husker whined from the back seat as dog hair drifted around me, as though someone had shaken up a snow globe. I felt frozen in time, stuck in a moment I wanted no part of. Why the hell did no onetellme?
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, certain it was the only thing keeping me from a waterfall of tears and a bloodcurdling scream sure to alert the entire town.
The dream suddenly made a lot of sense.
Someone honked behind me, and I hit the gas.
TWO
BECKETT
“What do you think?”Luke Mason asked, stepping inside the lakeside cabin and flipping on a couple of lights. I threw one more glance toward the general direction of the lake, but it still wasn’t visible. I followed him inside.
It was like walking into a time capsule. Wood panel walls, olive green carpet, and a burnt orange floral-print couch jumped right out at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was back on the East Coast, in Nana’s old basement. The cabin felt cramped and compact with its closed-off rooms, but open concept wasn’t trending when it was built.
“I know it’s a little dated,” Luke added, thumbs anchored in his gun belt as I moved around. The police chief was working today, but he agreed to meet me and show me the place before his shift officially started. “But it has good bones.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I admitted. The cabin appeared to be well maintained, even if it was a time-traveling experience into the seventies. It was also furnished, which was a plus since these days, I didn’t have much in the way of material possessions. Just what little I’d packed into a storage unit. I was in no hurry to pull any of it out.
