clock went off at eight, Lumpkin had her legs pinned at the bottom of the bed. The kitten, Glenora, had draped herself over the top of Lissâs head like a pair of furry black earmuffs.
âOff,â she ordered, but she was not surprised when neither cat moved.
With an effort, she extricated herself, made a quick stop in the bathroom, and stumbled downstairs to start the coffee brewing. Lumpkin nearly tripped her as he dashed past, determined to be the first one to reach the kitchen and his food bowl. Glenora gamboled after him, fetching up by the water dish and nearly upsetting it.
When Liss began to run water into a large glass measuring cup, Glenora was right there, batting at the stream coming out of the faucet. Liss pushed her off the counter. Three times. The little cat was back by the time Liss stuck the container in the microwave. At that point, Liss gave up. She left the water running in a thin trickle so that Glenora could play with it.
Still half-asleep, she measured scoops of coffee into her French press, popped two slices of bread into the toaster, fed the cats, turned the faucet off, poured hot water over the grounds, and set the timer for four minutes of brewing time. Her plan was to drink one cup in the kitchen and a second upstairs while she dressed, and put the remainder in a thermos to take with her to The Spruces. She had nib-blies ready to go into a small cooler, too, just in case business was so brisk in the dealersâ room that she couldnât get away for lunch.
Halfway through the first reviving sip of caffeine, the phone rang. Since the caller I.D. told her it was Patsy from the coffee shop, she picked up.
âIâm just back from delivering pastries to the hotel for the author breakfast,â Patsy said. âGood news. Our little problem has resolved itself.â
âWhat problem?â Still groggy, Liss struggled to recall if there had been a crisis over the baked goods. She couldnât remember one.
âThis morning one of the hotel guests went out for an early-morning jog along the cliff path,â Patsy continued.
Lissâs hand clenched on the phone. With a sick certainty, she knew she wasnât going to like what she heard next.
âWe donât have to worry about the evil blogger anymore,â Patsy announced. âJane Nedlinger took a header off Loverâs Leap. Broke her danged fool neck in the fall.â
Chapter Six
T he dealersâ room opened promptly at nine. It had been arranged so that a large open area in the middle was surrounded by long tables. They had been set up about two feet out from the wall, so that the dealers had room to move around behind them. As the only bookseller at a conference for readers, Angie had the most prominent spot, to the right as people came through the door. She was also the only one who had three tables. Today she was working them alone, but her ten-year-old daughter, Beth, would help out on Saturday and Sunday.
Liss stood behind the two tables to Angieâs right. She had a variety of items from Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium displayed in front of her. To her right was an empty space, room for the lines they hoped would form at the signing tables. These took up the entire wall opposite the entrance.
There was only one other dealer at the Cozy Con. A T-shirt vendor displayed a variety of brightly colored offerings on two tables set up just across from Liss. Most bore book-related slogans and graphics. Next to him were two tables holding the items to be auctioned off at the charity auction that evening. A third, where attending authors were encouraged to put out promotional material for their newest titles, was rapidly filling up with postcards, flyers, bookmarks, newsletters, pens, pencils, key rings, bowls of candy, and refrigerator magnets.
From her vantage point, Liss had a good view of the entire room. The first panel didnât start until 9:30, so they had attracted a good number of
âOff,â she ordered, but she was not surprised when neither cat moved.
With an effort, she extricated herself, made a quick stop in the bathroom, and stumbled downstairs to start the coffee brewing. Lumpkin nearly tripped her as he dashed past, determined to be the first one to reach the kitchen and his food bowl. Glenora gamboled after him, fetching up by the water dish and nearly upsetting it.
When Liss began to run water into a large glass measuring cup, Glenora was right there, batting at the stream coming out of the faucet. Liss pushed her off the counter. Three times. The little cat was back by the time Liss stuck the container in the microwave. At that point, Liss gave up. She left the water running in a thin trickle so that Glenora could play with it.
Still half-asleep, she measured scoops of coffee into her French press, popped two slices of bread into the toaster, fed the cats, turned the faucet off, poured hot water over the grounds, and set the timer for four minutes of brewing time. Her plan was to drink one cup in the kitchen and a second upstairs while she dressed, and put the remainder in a thermos to take with her to The Spruces. She had nib-blies ready to go into a small cooler, too, just in case business was so brisk in the dealersâ room that she couldnât get away for lunch.
Halfway through the first reviving sip of caffeine, the phone rang. Since the caller I.D. told her it was Patsy from the coffee shop, she picked up.
âIâm just back from delivering pastries to the hotel for the author breakfast,â Patsy said. âGood news. Our little problem has resolved itself.â
âWhat problem?â Still groggy, Liss struggled to recall if there had been a crisis over the baked goods. She couldnât remember one.
âThis morning one of the hotel guests went out for an early-morning jog along the cliff path,â Patsy continued.
Lissâs hand clenched on the phone. With a sick certainty, she knew she wasnât going to like what she heard next.
âWe donât have to worry about the evil blogger anymore,â Patsy announced. âJane Nedlinger took a header off Loverâs Leap. Broke her danged fool neck in the fall.â
Chapter Six
T he dealersâ room opened promptly at nine. It had been arranged so that a large open area in the middle was surrounded by long tables. They had been set up about two feet out from the wall, so that the dealers had room to move around behind them. As the only bookseller at a conference for readers, Angie had the most prominent spot, to the right as people came through the door. She was also the only one who had three tables. Today she was working them alone, but her ten-year-old daughter, Beth, would help out on Saturday and Sunday.
Liss stood behind the two tables to Angieâs right. She had a variety of items from Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium displayed in front of her. To her right was an empty space, room for the lines they hoped would form at the signing tables. These took up the entire wall opposite the entrance.
There was only one other dealer at the Cozy Con. A T-shirt vendor displayed a variety of brightly colored offerings on two tables set up just across from Liss. Most bore book-related slogans and graphics. Next to him were two tables holding the items to be auctioned off at the charity auction that evening. A third, where attending authors were encouraged to put out promotional material for their newest titles, was rapidly filling up with postcards, flyers, bookmarks, newsletters, pens, pencils, key rings, bowls of candy, and refrigerator magnets.
From her vantage point, Liss had a good view of the entire room. The first panel didnât start until 9:30, so they had attracted a good number of
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