Page 4 of Murder By the Millions
“Notlotslots.” Chloe twirled to place her purse beneath the sales counter and whirled back around, smoothing the skirt of her fluted red dress. “The properties. The houses.”
“Those aren’t for sale.”
“Yes they are, Allie.”
“No. They’re historic landmarks,” I stated. “The preservation society has plans to include them in its tour of the town, once they get the funding to complete the sale. They want to show life as it was when Bramblewood was initially settled.”
“The town council has approved Mr. Gardner’s bid,” Chloe said.
“You’re kidding.” I exchanged a look with Tegan, who raised her shoulders, clueless.
“Mr. Gardner has a few permit hurdles to jump over before the sale is final, of course, but … oh, oh! That’s him.” Chloe bounced on her toes and jutted an arm toward the street. “Outside. There. See him? He’s walking this way. He’s coming into the shop!”
Seconds later a decidedly handsome man pushed through the front door. He reminded me of someone—an actor—but I couldn’t drum up the name. “Are you open for business?” His voice was warm and refined.
“It’s Sunday,” Tegan replied.
“Is that a yes or no?”
“Hello, Mr. Gardner,” Chloe said, waving demurely. “I’m Chloe Kang.”
“Hi.” Jason Gardner had wavy hair, which he had swooped off his face and wore longish, cut above the collar of his brown linen jacket. His jaw was strong, and his eyes, though narrow, held a glint of humor. Two lines, like double parentheses, bracketed the left side of his mouth, hinting that this was the side he favored when he smiled. If not for the furrows between his eyebrows and the way he was nervously fisting and unfurling his left hand, I would think he’d lived a carefree life in his forty-something years. “Yes or no? Open?”
Tegan glanced at me for a response to his question.
“No,” I replied, “we’re not open yet, but we will be after noon. You’re free to browse now and reserve books to purchase then.”
He grinned, confirming my deduction about which way his smile would go. Chloe drew in a quick breath. So did Vanna. Both were clearly smitten.
“You met Chloe,” I continued. “The one in the anime shirt is Tegan Potts. The other is her half sister, Vanna Harding.” I pointed to them. “I’m Allie Catt.”
He let out a laugh. “Really? You’re not pulling my leg?”
“No, and yes, it’s a funny name, but I come by it honestly. Catt, C-a-t-t, is an English name derived from Catford, which initially meant ‘a ford frequented by wildcats.’”
“I’ll bet you heard a lot of jokes growing up.” He sauntered toward the thriller and mystery section of the store.
“Of course. Here’s one. Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Fur.”
“Fur who?”
“Fur heaven’s sake, open the door.”
“You poor kid,” he said.
I supposed to him I was a kid. I was a good fifteen to twenty years younger.
He pulled a hardcover off an endcap and opened the book to read the blurb on the jacket.
I said, “I heard you’re planning on buying property here.”
“To build a mall,” Chloe chimed.
I gawked at her. Why hadn’t she led with that? A mall? In Bramblewood? We took pride in the fact all our stores were independent concerns. Our streets were lined with antique shops, jewelry shops, novelty shops, and more. Even the cafés, restaurants, and inns were small and intimate. We did not need a mall. Shoot.
