Page 36 of Hacking the Holidays
Rose was studying me as much as I was studying her. I found this so fascinating that I was temporarily at a loss for words, which was rare.
“There’s no need to overthink this,” she added.
“But are we overthinking it?” I asked.
“You tell me. You’re the one conducting a forensic investigation into the tragic death of a coffee cup.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Fair point, but in my defense?—”
Someone cleared their throat behind me …
I turned to find the woman who had knocked over all the books standing in front of me with a sheepish look on her face.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I was hoping you could help me find a comprehensive guide to Pacific Northwest hiking trails. I’ve looked everywhere, and I’m surprised you have nothing.”
“We definitely do,” I said. “In fact, there are over twenty books on the subject directly behind you.”
“Yeah?” She flipped around, ran her fingers across the spine, then pulled one from the shelf. She spun around on her heels and added, “This is perfect! Thanks so much.”
I gave her a half-bow. “My pleasure.”
“I should have known you’d know exactly what I needed,”she said. “Rose talked highly about your encyclopedic library knowledge. She said you were basically the human equivalent of Google, but with better accuracy and significantly more charm.”
I blinked, processing that statement, then turned to look at Rose.
She had gone still.
Suspiciously still.
The kind of stillness that animals adopt when they're hoping a predator won’t notice them if they don’t move.
“You two know each other?” I asked slowly.
Rose’s smile appeared a half-second too late to be natural. “Sam, this is Chloe, my best friend. The one I mentioned was here in town with me. The one you’ll see later for bratwursts at München Haus.”
Chloe extended her hand, her expression friendly and open. “It’s so good to officially meet you, Sam. And sorry again for demolishing that book display earlier. I promise I’m not usually such a disaster.”
I shook her hand automatically, my brain trying to connect dots that seemed just slightly out of alignment.
“Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.” I paused, looking between them. “Though I have to ask—is clumsiness contagious? Because you two are eerily similar in your capacity for creative destruction.”
Chloe laughed, the sound genuine and unguarded. “I can assure you, we’re complete opposites in almost every way. Rose is methodical, organized, intelligent beyond belief, and thinks three steps ahead of me. I’m impulsive, frenetic, andstumble through life hoping things work out. The only thing we consistently agree on is food.”
“And yet you both caused property damage within ten minutes of each other.”
“A mere coincidence,” Chloe said brightly.
I turned my attention back to Rose, who suddenly stood up straight, her hands flying behind her back, like she was hiding something. Something in her posture triggered that same instinct I’d felt moments ago—the sense that I was missing something important, something hiding just beneath the surface of this casual conversation.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Rose blinked, as if coming back from somewhere distant. “Yes. Sorry. I’m just feeling terrible about your cup. I have this thing about breaking other people’s belongings. I’m going to buy you a new one, the exact one, so don’t worry.”
I shook my head. “That would be impossible because it was a collector’s item from the seventies. If you can even find one, which I doubt you could, the replacement would probably cost you about four thousand dollars.”
Rose blinked. “Four thousand dollars for a coffee cup?”
I chuckled and waved it off. “That was my attempt at humor.”
