Page 28 of Seaside Bookclub
As her fingers flew over the keyboard, she noticed the flecks of blue and brown paint. Sam did too.
“Were you painting your house?” he asked.
Bunny laughed. “No, I’m an artist. I was painting a vignette of shells before I came here.”
“An artist? Wow, that’s impressive. Do you have any pictures of your paintings?”
Bunny felt a flush of pride. Sam seemed genuinely interested. “Well, I suppose I have a few on my phone.”
She practically knocked her bag off the table, getting to her phone. She opened one of her photo albums and scrolled through a few pictures for Sam. Not too many, though—she didn’t want to be one of those boring people who showed dozens of pictures when a few would suffice.
“Is that a moon snail shell? You captured the colors so perfectly. A lot of people think those shells are too plain to be admired, but they are actually quite lovely,” Sam said.
“I totally agree.” Bunny put away her phone.
“Thanks for showing me those. You’re very talented.”
“Oh, well…” Bunny stammered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Thank you. I guess we should get started. Do you want to drive?” Bunny slid the laptop in front of Sam.
“Sure. What’s our, er… dogcatcher’s… first name?”
“Reginald.” Liz had looked that up in the guest book at Bunny’s request.
“Oh, good. That’s a bit unusual, so that will make it easier. I was afraid you were going to say something like Bob. There must be a dozen Bob Smith’s everywhere.”
They spent the next hour googling, searching Facebook, and even looking into Instagram. But they came up with absolutely nothing for a Reginald Smith who lived in Greenville, New Hampshire.
“Well, I guess we’ve exhausted all our avenues.” Sam stared at the computer thoughtfully. “Are you sure Liz got the town right?”
“I can ask her.” Bonnie closed the laptop. “So, what’s the next step?”
“If I was still on the job, we’d interview people close to the subject. But we don’t really know anyone close to Mr. Smith.”
“Just Jane and Liz, but they don’t reallyknowhim.” Bunny shoved the laptop into her bag. “I’ve already asked Liz about him, and from what she says, he’s a bit mysterious. Keeps to himself.”
They sat there for a few seconds, both thinking. Bunny was reluctant to get up and leave, and she wondered if Sam felt the same.
“Perhaps we should arrange a time to meet again after we’ve thought about this. I can fill you in on what Liz says after I talk to her.” Bunny tapped the side pocket of her tote, where she’d put the crossword puzzles. “And I can fill you in on how easy these were.”
Sam laughed. “Good idea. Shall we walk out together?”
Near the front of the room was a kiosk with the book display. One of them wasDeath on the Cliffs, the next book club book. “Oh, this is the next book we’re reading for the book club.”
Sam picked up the book and leafed through a few pages. “Claire asked if I wanted to join the club. I just might.”
“You should! It’s a lot of fun. I like to play along with the detective, kind of like solving a real crime. There are lots of ideas on how to catch killers. Like in the last book, the killer invited his victim to a somewhat-public place but at a time when he knew they would be alone.” Bunny looked thoughtful. “That’s why I thought the dogcatcher was up to something when he brought that other person to the Rachel Carson Refuge.”
“That would be a good place to do someone in. Lots of places to hide a body in there. Of course, the cliffs on a remote beach or a creepy old inn on the water would be a good place too.”
Bunny laughed. “The beaches here are hardly remote. Always someone walking along the Marginal Way, and Mr.… er… the dogcatcher would hardly be alone at Tides.”
“Right. Of course. He must be planning something else…ifhe is planning anything.”
Bunny sensed Sam was doubtful about Mr. Smith. Did he think she was being foolish? If so, he was being a good sport about going along with her. If nothing else, it was kind of fun and gave them something to do.
Her spirits picked up even further when he tucked the book under his arm and headed toward the checkout desk. Maybe he would join the book club. She wouldn’t mind having an excuse to see Sam on a regular basis. It was always nice to have a friend with similar interests.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
