Page 101 of Murder By the Millions
“It is.” I took one off the endcap and handed it to him. “Here. It’s yours. A gift.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes. I appreciate you taking the time to share what you knew. The guy you heard whistling will thank you, too.”
Ott tossed the book into his other hand and raised it. “Mighty nice of you.” He scanned the shop with one long sweep. “Nice place. Wish I was more of a reader.”
“One can always start.” I smiled. “Say, if the police need you to tell them what you saw and heard, would you be willing to do so?”
“Yeah, sure. I got nothing to hide. I live off the land, but I don’t break any laws.”
What an interesting guy.
“Do you have a cell phone?” I asked.
“Nah. I hate anything requiring plug-in batteries. But Zorro knows where to find me.”
As Ott was leaving, Tegan appeared. “Who was the dude?”
“A guy who exonerated Patrick of murder.”
CHAPTER21
“Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it!”
—Daisy Buchanan in F. Scott Fitzgerald’sThe Great Gatsby
After arranging the lemon bars, coffee mugs, sugar, and cream on a table in the reading nook for the impromptu book club, I phoned Zach and left a message, telling him what I’d learned about Patrick. Yes, he would chastise me for intervening, but I hadn’t lured Ott to the shop. I hadn’t asked him to verify Patrick’s alibi. I was purely a helpful conduit for the police, right?
At four p.m., when the book club concluded, Shayna Luckenbill joined Tegan and me at the sales counter. She was quite a dramatic woman, using her hands and alto voice to great effect. Her silk scarf dress with its playful balloon motif was colorful and a testament to her love of art. For at least two minutes, she gushed about how wonderful the bookshopwas. She questioned why she’d never popped in before—poppedbeing her word.
“Thank you so much for letting us hold the meeting here,” she said. “You are a lifesaver.”
“Say, Shayna,” Tegan said, offering me a sly wink, “we often host book clubs on Monday nights. Maybe you’d like to attend.”
“That would be lovely.”
“You would’ve enjoyed last Monday’s event,” Tegan lied, seeing as we hadn’t had one. “We read and discussed Liane Moriarty’sApples Never Fall.Would you have been able to make it?”
“Sadly, no. I was at the library, hosting an aspiring new artists exhibition.”
“Was your husband with you?” Tegan asked. “I heard he’s so proud of what you do for the arts community.”
Shayna blushed. “How kind of you to say. No, Iggie has a standing poker game. Heaven forbid I ask him to skip that.Men!” She cackled. “Allie, I have a friend who works at Legal Eagles who raves about Dream Cuisine’s food. I should have you cater a future exhibition. Call me.” She held up her cell phone and rattled off her number. “This way I’ll have your contact.”
I did as requested.
She pressed the cell phone to her chest. “Superb. Absolutely superb. By the way, my friend Ulla is sold on your shop, and she’ll be telling everyone about your beautiful displays.”
“Ulla Karlsson is h-here?” I stammered. Of course she was. She was Shayna’s best friend.A duplicitous best friend,I mused.
“She’s over there. The one in the tent dress.” Shayna pointed toward the reading nook area.
The woman—Ulla—was wearing a shapeless dress. Her ash-white hair was secured in a claw-style clip, and she hadn’t donned a stitch of makeup. Was that how she snowed her friendinto believing she was as innocent as a lamb and not a husband stealer?
“She said she wants to start investing in books so she can expand her library. Maybe you ladies could steer her to the next best read.”
“I’ll say hello,” I offered and strolled over to Ulla before she could depart with the other women, who were filing out. “Hi, Ulla. I’m Allie. Nice to meet you. I enjoyed you inYoung Frankenstein.”
