The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,30

red golf shirt finally grabbed his Dr Pepper and strode confidently out of the store.

Lenore always greeted her with a smile. They’d known each other for years, since before Lenore’s mother, Mabel, passed away last September and Lenore took over the store. But she was too preoccupied to look up as Mary took her purchases—paper towels and garbage bags they needed at the store, along with the two candy bars—out of her basket and set them on the counter.

“Well, that was weird,” Lenore mumbled as she stared down at the business card she held.

Mary pulled her wallet from her purse. “What was weird?”

“That guy.” Lenore jerked her head toward the door.

Mary caught one last glimpse of the man who’d been in line ahead of her before he disappeared. About six feet tall, he had short, dark hair streaked with gray, and she remembered that he wore glasses. He looked about her age, but nothing else stood out about him. “Who was he?”

“A private investigator from Atlanta, according to this.” She handed his card to Mary, and Mary read the name on it, printed in a black professional font with embossed letters.

Drake D. Owens. Private Investigator. “What’d he want?” Mary had been too busy with her own thoughts and enjoying the music to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“He’s looking for someone. Wanted to know if I’d ever heard of her.”

A chill ran down Mary’s spine. “Who?”

“Someone named Bailey North,” she replied with a shrug in her voice.

Mary dropped her wallet, and her change scattered over the floor. She kept Mr. Owens’s card in her hand, couldn’t have released it even if she’d wanted to, as she bent to gather up the coins.

Lenore leaned over the counter. “Need some help?”

“No, no. It’s just a...a few nickels and dimes,” she managed to say despite the fact that she could hardly breathe. She hadn’t heard that name in over thirty-five years.

“What does he want with her?” she asked as she stood up again.

“With Bailey North? I have no clue. He said she was once abducted by a man and his wife and held captive for years. I don’t remember hearing anything about that on the news, though, do you?”

“No.” She slipped Mr. Owens’s card into her purse, planning to say she’d done it without thinking if Lenore happened to ask for it back, but Lenore didn’t seem concerned about it. She just started to ring Mary up.

“There are some sick people out there,” she said, shaking her head as though she’d never understand what made some people do what they did.

Mary’s mind flashed back to the day Nora Skinner stopped to ask her for directions, and Mary had been kicking a rock as she meandered home from school.

She remembered being so willing to help. A woman alone seemed safe—which was how she’d walked right into a trap.

* * *

Autumn glanced at her watch and then checked the back door. She hadn’t expected her mother to be gone for so long. Where was Mary? Normally, Autumn wouldn’t care that her mother was late. She was fine handling the store. But assuming Mary would be back any minute, Laurie had left to go to the dentist, and Autumn had an appointment to get a pedicure that she was about to miss. She’d heard that an old girlfriend had moved back to town and opened a nail salon, and Autumn wanted to see her. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything to pamper herself—unless she counted sleeping in, which she’d done a lot of since she’d returned to Sable Beach.

The bell went off over the door while she was on the phone with Melissa Cunningham, saying she wasn’t going to be able to make it, after all. The store had been fairly busy today, but for every person who made a purchase, she had a handful of browsers, and she was on the phone, so she didn’t even try to see who it was.

It wasn’t until she heard a man clear his throat that she realized the person who’d come in had walked straight to the counter. She told Melissa she’d call her back to reschedule and turned to find... Quinn.

“Hey,” he said, treating her to that Hollywood smile of his.

She caught her breath. What was he doing here? “Hello.”

He turned in a circle, making a point of taking in everything he saw. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in. The place looks great.”

“It should. My mother and aunt pour everything they have into