as she outlined her plans for the store. “The entire downstairs will be open to the public. Most of my space will be devoted to the mail order portion of the business, since that’s where I’ll have most of my sales, but I’m not going to segregate the two aspects. I want retail customers to be aware of the mail order operation.”
Sage nodded thoughtfully. “For repeat business. The tourist who purchases your bath soap while on vacation and falls in love with it at home will know it’s easy to replenish her stock.”
“That’s the idea.”
“An excellent one. How do you intend to set up your displays?”
“I’m going to keep the look and feel of a residence, with home products displayed inside the home. I’m in the market for Victorian antiques, so if you know of a source …”
“I might. Have you been inside Cavanaugh House yet?”
“Is that the big mansion on the grounds of the spa resort?”
“At Angel’s Rest, yes.”
“I visited yesterday. It’s fabulous. The furnishings just in the lobby are enough to make me green with envy.”
“They’re original to the house. The owner, Celeste Blessing, has heaps more in storage. When she bought the property, the contents of Cavanaugh House were included. She’s away at an innkeepers’ conference now, but when she returns, you should talk to her. I’ll bet she’d be happy to sell you some things for Heavenscents.”
“It’s a lovely thought, but I’m sure I couldn’t afford them.”
“Talk to her. You might be surprised. Celeste has a way of working miracles for people. Knowing Celeste, she might commission some business from you, too. Angel’s Rest already has a signature line of lotions and soaps, but Celeste does like to stir things up fairly regularly. She may be ready for a change.”
The two women discussed that possibility and Savannah’s plans for a few more minutes, then Savannah presented Sage with the huge basket of lotions and soaps she’d prepared as a thank-you gift. Sage sifted through the contents, then beamed with delight. “Ooh, a lavender bath melt. That will be my reward for sitting through the Chamber of Commerce planning committee meeting tonight.”
“Are they that boring?”
Sage winced. “Oops. You are still planning to attend, aren’t you?”
“I was, but now I wonder …”
“They’re not horrible, I promise, and we really can use some new blood on the committee.”
“New blood? For what … ritual sacrifice?”
“Don’t be silly.” Sage crossed to the back door and called for Snowdrop, and after the dog bounded to her, she affixed the leash to her pet’s collar. She scooped up the gift basket, shot Savannah a grin, and added, “Although I’d think twice about bringing your pet chicken along.”
Zach strode into the Eternity Springs sheriff’s office with a dozen different problems rattling through his brain. Since his last day off a week ago, he’d dealt with one firestorm after another. He had a list of follow-up issues as long as his arm, and while the good citizen in him was glad to see Eternity Springs grow, he couldn’t deny that he missed the good old slow days. Spying his dispatcher, a sixty-eight-year-old salty-tongued wonder woman named Ginger Harris, he asked, “Have we heard back from Judge Landry about that warrant?”
“Not yet.”
Zach sighed. “I’ll call him again.”
Ginger held up a stack of yellow slips. “The phone has been ringing off the wall since Jeremy Paulson posted his video of a bear on his backyard trampoline online and it went viral. You have half a dozen interview requests from radio talk shows and cable news. They’ve made the connection that you won the Governor’s Award for heroism, so they’re wild to talk to you.”
Zach groaned as he hung his hat on the rack beside his desk. “I’m too busy for nonsense like that.”
“Mayor Townsend called with a special request that you at least give a couple interviews and mention that Eternity Springs is safe and we don’t have bears roaming the streets of the town. He’s afraid this publicity will hurt tourism.”
Zach propped his elbows on his desk, closed his eyes, and massaged his temples with his fingertips. He knew better than to speak the heresy that from his perspective, less tourism wasn’t such a bad thing. More people in town meant more people behaving badly, which meant more work for him. This spring break season was the worst he’d seen since he’d taken the sheriff’s job in Colorado. After four years working undercover infiltrating the methamphetamine trade in Oklahoma, he’d wanted—hell, he’d needed—a nice, laid-back, boring