retorted, her words harsh.
“I just figured…” his voice dropped off, as if he’d decided not to finish his thought.
“Yeah, I would have, too,” April said, lowering her voice a little. She looked up at him. “Are you positive about this?”
“We haven’t talked to the publishers, but I don’t think the tax forms would lie.”
“No, you’re right.” She wasn’t sure exactly what to say.
“You’ve read a lot of her work?” Rogers asked. Threadway’s partner had been so quiet that April had forgotten he was there.
“All of it,” she responded. “Whenever she had a new book come out, I would read it. She wrote Regency, which I like.”
“And you never thought to try and contact her, since she lived in Denver?”
“Her bio didn’t say Denver,” April said as she stood. She walked to the shelf and took down T. G. Red’s newest book. “It just says that she lives in the United States. It doesn’t even give a region.”
“Did the two of you ever discuss Red’s books?” It was Rogers who posed the question.
“Not that I remember.” April sat back down. “But as I told you before, I don’t mark down what books customers buy. I keep track of the genres they like, so I can put back new books I get in to try and sell to them.” April tossed the book onto the floor.
“You’re angry,” Threadway said. “Why?”
“Because, we could have made money together. Things have been tough lately, and she’s a big name in the romance world. If she was at the store, we could have drawn quite a crowd.”
“So you’re angry because she didn’t make you money,” Rogers said.
“I’m mad, detective, because it’s like she didn’t trust me. Why the big secret?”
Rogers shrugged. “I can’t answer that for you. You could have a séance and ask her.”
Threadway cleared his throat just as Misty jumped up from her chair and stood in front of April. “I don’t think jokes are what my friend wants to hear right now, detective,” Misty said.
“Who said I was kidding? Wouldn’t be the first time people I’ve met in a case have tried to contact the victim.” Rogers wasn’t laughing.
April huffed in disgust and shook her head. Just as she was about to scream that she wasn’t holding a séance, the door opened and one of her regulars came inside. She was a sixtyish woman who overdosed on mystery novels, much to April’s delight. Despite her joy at Carol’s spending habits, now wasn’t the time for her to come in, not with two cops in the shop. The next thing April knew, Carol would be putting on her sleuthing hat and trying to figure out what happened to Virginia.
“Gentlemen, could—” before she could say ‘could you leave? ’, Threadway said they were going
“We’ll be back around six.” He headed out the door. April took Carol’s bag of trade-ins and the woman headed toward the mystery section, which was at the back of the shop.
When she was out of earshot, April glared at Misty. “Why are they coming back?”
“How should I know?” Misty started to pace. “But maybe Rogers has an idea. It is October, the time of paranormal delights.”
April held up a finger in warning. “If you say the S word, I’m going to ban you from this store for life.”
“Liar,” Misty laughed. “I gotta go to work. I’m looking forward to hearing about your time with Titan. Call me later when you’re free.”
When she was gone, April wanted to scream. And then she remembered Carol, browsing through the stacks, oblivious to the drama that had just taken place. April had work to do. She needed to go through the offerings Carol had brought in, check her card to see if she had any credit, then tally up the new books and add them to the old ones, if there were any.
She opened the bag and started to sort. There were several new cozy mysteries, a few hard-boiled ones, and buried down at the bottom were two romance novels, which shocked April. Carol didn’t read romances. She
“I just figured…” his voice dropped off, as if he’d decided not to finish his thought.
“Yeah, I would have, too,” April said, lowering her voice a little. She looked up at him. “Are you positive about this?”
“We haven’t talked to the publishers, but I don’t think the tax forms would lie.”
“No, you’re right.” She wasn’t sure exactly what to say.
“You’ve read a lot of her work?” Rogers asked. Threadway’s partner had been so quiet that April had forgotten he was there.
“All of it,” she responded. “Whenever she had a new book come out, I would read it. She wrote Regency, which I like.”
“And you never thought to try and contact her, since she lived in Denver?”
“Her bio didn’t say Denver,” April said as she stood. She walked to the shelf and took down T. G. Red’s newest book. “It just says that she lives in the United States. It doesn’t even give a region.”
“Did the two of you ever discuss Red’s books?” It was Rogers who posed the question.
“Not that I remember.” April sat back down. “But as I told you before, I don’t mark down what books customers buy. I keep track of the genres they like, so I can put back new books I get in to try and sell to them.” April tossed the book onto the floor.
“You’re angry,” Threadway said. “Why?”
“Because, we could have made money together. Things have been tough lately, and she’s a big name in the romance world. If she was at the store, we could have drawn quite a crowd.”
“So you’re angry because she didn’t make you money,” Rogers said.
“I’m mad, detective, because it’s like she didn’t trust me. Why the big secret?”
Rogers shrugged. “I can’t answer that for you. You could have a séance and ask her.”
Threadway cleared his throat just as Misty jumped up from her chair and stood in front of April. “I don’t think jokes are what my friend wants to hear right now, detective,” Misty said.
“Who said I was kidding? Wouldn’t be the first time people I’ve met in a case have tried to contact the victim.” Rogers wasn’t laughing.
April huffed in disgust and shook her head. Just as she was about to scream that she wasn’t holding a séance, the door opened and one of her regulars came inside. She was a sixtyish woman who overdosed on mystery novels, much to April’s delight. Despite her joy at Carol’s spending habits, now wasn’t the time for her to come in, not with two cops in the shop. The next thing April knew, Carol would be putting on her sleuthing hat and trying to figure out what happened to Virginia.
“Gentlemen, could—” before she could say ‘could you leave? ’, Threadway said they were going
“We’ll be back around six.” He headed out the door. April took Carol’s bag of trade-ins and the woman headed toward the mystery section, which was at the back of the shop.
When she was out of earshot, April glared at Misty. “Why are they coming back?”
“How should I know?” Misty started to pace. “But maybe Rogers has an idea. It is October, the time of paranormal delights.”
April held up a finger in warning. “If you say the S word, I’m going to ban you from this store for life.”
“Liar,” Misty laughed. “I gotta go to work. I’m looking forward to hearing about your time with Titan. Call me later when you’re free.”
When she was gone, April wanted to scream. And then she remembered Carol, browsing through the stacks, oblivious to the drama that had just taken place. April had work to do. She needed to go through the offerings Carol had brought in, check her card to see if she had any credit, then tally up the new books and add them to the old ones, if there were any.
She opened the bag and started to sort. There were several new cozy mysteries, a few hard-boiled ones, and buried down at the bottom were two romance novels, which shocked April. Carol didn’t read romances. She
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