Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,14

such a big deal about this? I’m going to be attending an auction—that’s all. It has the books we need. In fact, I saw a few outstanding copies of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility and her Pride and Prejudice, and an early edition of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights that’s to die for.”

“Let’s hope you don’t.” Paige shoved the cart past Addie.

“Paige, what’s going on with you and Serena? This is so out of character.”

“We just know you, and we’re worried.” She sniffed. “If anything were to happen to you”—a tear trickled down her pale cheek—“I . . . I wouldn’t be able to—” The tears turned into a full-out sob. “You’re like family to me. More than any of my older sisters are and . . .”

“Oh, Paige.” Addie’s chest tightened with the same force that her arms did as they wrapped around the girl. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be fine. No ghosts are going to hurt me, I promise.”

“But what if they do? We both know you, and that it won’t take long until you start investigating those old mysterious deaths just for fun. Because that’s what you like to do. Then Kathleen Gallagher’s ghost is going to get all riled up and . . . and . . . and who knows what. But there’s going to be trouble. There always is.”

“From the research I did last night after Serena told me the tale, I’m pretty certain the police did their due diligence when they investigated the three deaths back in 1949. I’m not about to start poking my nose into cases that were closed years ago.”

“Hmm, we’ll see,” Paige said, shaking her head as she shoved the book trolley around the end of the row.

* * *

Later that evening at home, Addie was subjected to the same utter nonsense—at least it was in her mind— of an extended version of the same warning courtesy of Serena, who dropped in for a routine evening chat. After an hour of sensing the same frustration that parents must have with trying to rationalize with a two-year-old, Addie feigned exhaustion brought on by her busy day and showed Serena out. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against its smooth mahogany finish and heaved out a deep breath.

It was times like this that Addie second-guessed her decision last year to offer the empty two-bedroom apartment above her garage to Serena and her fiancé, Zach Ludlow. Serena swore to her at the time there wouldn’t be an issue with uninvited visits but . . . who was Serena kidding. It certainly wasn’t Addie, and it had turned out just as she suspected it would. Especially since Zach worked most evenings at the Grey Gull Inn as a waiter while he finished his internship with Dr. Lee at the naturopathic clinic down on the boardwalk. Although Addie loved her friend dearly, there were times, like tonight, that the three-car-garage driveway just wasn’t wide enough for her liking.

“Now, that was exhausting.” Addie flipped her home security alarm to armed and headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and heat up some leftovers before she curled up on the sofa with her laptop for an evening of research. She wanted to find out the estimated current values of the Austen and Bronte books she’d seen today. If she didn’t have her top bid already in mind when she attended the auction, she knew herself well enough that she could easily get carried away and end up paying too much, given how badly she wanted them.

* * *

At 8 a.m. the following morning, Addie parked her Mini behind a black SUV with vanity plates that read ACSNER and laughed. Blake was already here. But there was no sign of Kalea’s Lexus, and Addie hadn’t heard anything from her yet this morning. She was certain the plan had been to meet before the auction and attend it together. On the other hand, it wouldn’t surprise her if her cousin was simply avoiding the possibility of chipping a manicured nail by actually participating in manual labor and would show up just in time for the auction to start.

Addie puddle-jumped to the front gate. The rain shower they’d had last evening didn’t last long, but by the look of the lake-sized puddles she had to maneuver around, the storm had carried a fair bit of moisture. When she reached the gate she winced as she pushed it open. Silence. There was no cheeky