Cadaver Lab, page 3
She needed help, which was a problem for a couple of reasons.
First, money was finally coming in but it was going out just as fast with all the stock she’d been ordering. After paying bills there didn’t seem to be enough left over to spend on the luxury of staff.
Second, who would she even hire?
The older retired crowd who shopped here didn’t seem likely to want to work part time for minimum wage. The slightly younger demographic who ran in after work to quickly grab a bottle of wine for dinner seemed to have money but no time. So again, they weren’t candidates for a part-timer.
She’d make it work on her own. Somehow. Starting with opening the damn boxes of books so she could call all those who’d placed the special orders to come pick them up.
Armed with a box cutter, she reached for the box on the top of the stack.
The bell above the door—the one she was considering ripping down if she could just get a second to drag over a chair so she could reach it—tinkled yet again setting her nerves on edge.
Drawing in a deep breath, she resigned herself to the interruption.
It would be fine. She’d lock up tonight at closing time, microwave something quick to eat and unpack everything when she could make her phone calls in peace. Multitasking was overrated anyway.
Resting the box cutter on the register counter, she turned and smiled when she saw her ad hoc marketing and business advisor striding toward her.
“Good morning. I brought you coffee and a sweet from Honey Buns.” Harper thrust both hands forward, one containing a paper cup and one a brown paper bag.
“Bless you,” she said, gratefully taking both from her new friend.
She’d deal with the issue of having to pee later in exchange for a caffeine boost now.
Harper’s eyes lit as her gaze hit upon the boxes. “Books?”
“Yes. Lots of them.”
“Can we open them?” she asked with a mixture of excitement and hesitation, looking like a kid facing a towering stack of wrapped presents on Christmas morning.
Natalie laughed, putting down the bag to pick up the box cutter. She handed it to Harper. “Be my guest.”
“Yay!” Harper squealed. “I love book deliveries.”
“Well, I’ve got plenty of them. Have at it. You’re welcome to get your book unboxing fix anytime you want.”
“Seriously? I’d love that.”
Natalie had been joking but hell, why not? “Um, yeah. Of course. Thanks. I could use the extra pair of hands.”
“Can I put the unboxing on my TikTok?” Harper asked.
“Um, sure.”
“Great. I’ll tag you.”
“I’m ready to check out.” A woman struggling to carry one toddler, two children's books and three bottles of wine loaded her purchases onto the counter, saving Natalie from having to confess to Harper she hadn’t yet set up a TikTok to tag.
One thing at a time.
She indulged in a big swallow of coffee as she made her way back to the counter and the customer.
Looking longingly at the brown paper bag containing the treat she hadn’t gotten to even glance at yet, she shoved that on the shelf below the counter and began ringing up the items.
By the time the vocal child and the stressed-out mother was out the door, Harper had all three boxes cut open and the contents of the first one stacked in two neat piles on the end of the counter.
Harper paused next to the tower of books. “I wasn’t sure if these are for store stock or a special order for the book club.”
There were two book clubs so far. One for steamy romance and one for cozy mystery. But Harper had plans for more, including one for thrillers and suspense and one for historical romance.
And with the first book the club picked for their inaugural meeting came the special orders. One or two chose to read on their eReaders, but most wanted the paperback. And to accommodate those readers and keep them from ordering from Amazon, Natalie offered a twenty-percent discount on any book club purchases.
It worked. Yes, it cut severely into her profit margin, but a hundred percent of nothing was nothing. She’d rather cut the price and keep the sale.
But along with the special orders came the need to notify each and every one of the book club members.
“Book club, mostly,” she said in answer to Harper’s question as she reached for her list. “I guess I’d better get started on all these phone calls.”
“Can I see the list?” Harper held out her hand for the paper, which Natalie happily handed over. “I can take care of this for you with two phone calls. Alice Mudd will make sure all the cozy mystery club members get the message. And I saw the romance club’s title in that other box. I’ll text my Aunt Agnes. She has the romance book club already set up for an email blast.”
Natalie let out a breathy laugh. “That would be a huge help.” She might actually have time to pee sometime today.
Harper paused, tipping her head to one side. “Do you need help?”
“Yes,” Natalie answered without hesitation.
“Would you consider a student?” Harper asked.
She hadn’t thought of that but why not? “Sure.”
“I know someone. She’s young but she’s smart and she’ll work cheap.”
“Cheap is good.” Natalie nodded.
“I’ll call—Jesus. What was that?” Harper pressed one hand to her chest as a black blur whizzed past.
Natalie watched as it leapt onto the windowsill. “That’s the cat.”
“Aw, I love when bookstores have cats. I didn’t know you had one.” Hand extended, Harper moved slowly toward the window.
The bastard cat, who never let Natalie pet him even once but had no problem eating the food she finally bought for him, let Harper scratch his head. He even looked like he enjoyed it.
“I don’t have one. He showed up one day and now he thinks he lives here. I find him asleep on top of the bookshelves every morning when I open. He’s getting in and out but I can’t figure out how.” She hated to think there was a cat sized hole somewhere in her building she had yet to find.
“Then let’s make him earn his keep.” She whipped out her cell and snapped a picture as the damn cat lifted his head in the sunlight and stared right at the camera, as if he were posing. Like some sort of feline GQ model. “What’s his name? I’ll post this on my Insta and tag you.”
“I haven’t named him yet.”
Harper came back to where Natalie stood with a mouthful of honey bun and rested an elbow on the counter. “Something literary, I think. Hmm…”
The cat jumped down off the windowsill and ran across the store. He leapt on to the counter and rubbed his head on Harper’s chin as she laughed.
Natalie shook her head. “He acts like a stuck-up snob with me, giving me the cold shoulder. Even though I’m the one who feeds you, you know.” She directed that last part at the cat, who ignored her as he purred and serpentined his body against Harper.
“A stuck-up snob, huh? I think it’s clear. He’s Mr. Darcy.”
“That’s perfect.” In fact, maybe the cat belonged to the snooty hot doctor. If so, it should go home so they could judge her together from their warehouse full of bodies.
Speaking of…
“Did you hear anything more about Doctor Death?” she asked.
Harper nodded. “Mary Brimley is insisting she saw another body being delivered in a pick-up truck and carried inside in a body bag this week.”
Natalie frowned. “What could he be hoarding in there that looks like dead bodies? CPR dummies, maybe?”
Harper shrugged. “No clue. I’m torn between being annoyed I don’t know the truth and happy that the mystery is keeping all the old biddies occupied and out of my personal life.”
Natalie laughed. “They can’t be that bad.”
Shooting a stare at her from beneath raised brows, Harper said, “Oh, sweetie, you have no idea.”
She visibly shook then gathered herself and with one last pat on the cat’s head she whipped out her phone again.
“Okay, so I posted Mr. Darcy’s bookstore debut. I’m texting my Aunt Agnes now. She can call Alice and then email the club members so you can get rid of these books… and I’ll text your potential new employee. Can I tell her she can come in anytime the shop’s open to meet with you?” Harper raised her gaze briefly from her cell.
“Sure. Thank you.”
She waved away the thanks. “No problem. Happy to help.”
Fingers flying, Harper fired off the texts. It would be easy to forget Harper was a professional writer since she seemed to be so busy with everything else besides writing.
Meanwhile Natalie was barely managing to juggle the pastry and the coffee. Especially since the cat insisted on using her counter for a bed.
“All right. Done. Now I guess I should get back home and get some work done. That book’s not going to write itself.” A text chimed on Harper’s phone while it was still in her hand. She frowned as she read it, then let out a groan.
“Is everything okay?” Natalie asked.
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Stone wants me to get home before the big storm hits.”
“Storm? I didn’t hear anything about that.” Natalie glanced outside.
It had been sunny all morning. Although the sky did seem to have taken on an ominous greenish tinge in the past few minutes.
“One of the hazards of being engaged to a farmer. They’re way too attuned to the weather.” She typed something into her phone then shoved the cell into her pocket. “All right. I’m off. I don’t want to give Stone a reason to say I told you so. He’s smug enough already as it is. Stay safe in this supposed big storm. You too, Mr. Darcy.”
Harper kissed the cat on the top of the head and he looked happy as a clam to receive the attention.
Shaking her head as she resigned herself to the fact the cat liked Harper better than her, Natalie said, “We’ll be safe. I promise.”
She didn’t go outside much when the weather was nice. She couldn’t imagine any reason why she’d be tempted to go outside in a storm.
five
“What the heck?” Natalie stared out the window in disbelief.
Not an hour after Harper had left the shop on the heels of her fiancé’s storm warning, the skies had opened up. If it wasn’t actually hail, it was the hardest rain Natalie had ever heard and the largest drops she’d ever seen.
And right in the middle of the storm what did she see out the window but that damn cat.
Of all the times she’d found him lounging inside the store on a beautiful day, Mr. Darcy chose now to go outside. In the middle of a typhoon.
He was hunkered down under the dumpster that had been dropped off at hot mean doctor’s warehouse, but by how the cat looked more like a drowned rat, the large metal container wasn’t offering much in the way of shelter from the storm.
“Dammit.”
She knew what she had to do even if it was the last thing she wanted to. She was going to have to brave the storm and try to get that dumb cat inside.
“Not even my cat. Just because Harper named him doesn’t mean I should have to go out in a storm to get him. Shouldn’t a cat be smart enough to come in from the rain anyway? What the hell?” The steady stream of grumbling, accompanied by what was admittedly childish stomping on her part as she went upstairs to get a raincoat, made her feel moderately better.
She might have stomped and pouted all the way to the dumpster where the cat hunkered down and glared at her like she was an axe murdering stranger rather than his rescuer.
“Seriously? After I’ve been buying you the good cans of food instead of the cheap no name dry stuff?” With what might have been a growl, she bent and tried to grab the cat, who effectively avoided her by backing up farther beneath the dumpster.
“I’m going to leave you there if you don’t come out.”
A very uncatlike whine caught her attention over the noise of the rain pummeling her and the dumpster. It sounded almost like a… dog?
She bent at the waist and hanging her head upside down braved Mr. Darcy’s very rude hiss to peer beneath the dumpster. And there it was, a tiny shivering whimpering body half the size of Mr. Darcy but most definitely a dog.
“What are you doing under there? Will you come out and let me pick you up? I won’t hurt you.”
Apparently she didn’t speak animal well. At least not convincingly. Mr. Darcy took off for the shop, sprinting like he’d been shot out of a cannon. On his heels but moving much more slowly on his stubby little legs, was the dog.
That left Natalie standing alone next to a dumpster in the torrential rain and looking like an idiot. And of course, mean hot doctor chose that moment to come out of the door of the warehouse.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with about as much charm as she’d come to expect from him. That being none.
“Nothing,” she said, immediately on defense against the accusation in his voice.
He was looking at her as if she were some sort of stalker going through his garbage so she figured she’d better explain.
“I was trying to save a dog and cat from the storm. Are they yours?” she yelled to be heard over the rain.
On a snort, he said, “God no. The last thing I need is a pet.”
“That figures,” she mumbled, then added much louder, “Pleasure talking to you, as always,” she said with what she hoped was obvious sarcasm, although some of that might have been lost to the noise of the storm.
Dripping and miserable she spun on squishy feet in soaked sneakers and strode back toward her shop.
The order of the following events jumbled together as the world around her seemed to explode.
There was a loud crack. Then a boom accompanied by sparks falling from overhead.
It was all enough to have her pouring on the speed to get back inside.
She was so wet already she didn’t even think twice about running directly through the ankle-deep puddle between her and the shop.
As she ran she barely heard—and definitely ignored—crabby doctor’s shout just before her body exploded in intense tingling pain. She was paralyzed and convulsing at the same time. Unable to move but also incapable of remaining still.
And just as what felt like a truck crashed into her back, knocking her over, the world went blissfully black.
She awoke sometime later—she had no idea how much later—to what could only be described as pandemonium. The rain had let up and was barely a drizzle, but everything else was like hell had broken loose.
A fire whistle blared and there were flashing lights emitting from multiple vehicles, one of which seemed to be a utility truck. With the vehicles came what seemed like an inordinately large number of workers.
Even grumpy doctor was there, off to the side. It looked like he was being interviewed by a man in a uniform.
Hovering over her EMTs surrounded her where she lay on the wet ground.
And, strangest of all, there was one freckled young girl who leaned low and said, “Oh my God. Are you okay? You were like legit dead.”
“Wh—who are you?” Natalie managed in a weak voice as she realized that everything hurt.
“I’m Julia, but everyone calls me Jules. Harper said to come by the shop for a job interview.”
The shop. She’d left the door unlocked. And the money was still in the register. She needed to get back inside.
It was then she realized she was strapped to a board and being lifted into the air and she panicked.
“Can you lock the shop door?” she managed to shout as they bounced her toward the open ambulance. Whether the young stranger heard her before the EMTs slid her inside and slammed the double doors was unclear.
One day, probably in therapy if she could ever afford it sometime in the future, she’d have to explore that on the heels of almost dying she was most concerned about the shop getting robbed.
Sole entrepreneurship was a demanding bitch.
six
“I’m really fine,” Natalie said for what had to be the tenth time that hour.
Fine except for the sick feeling caused by her calculating what her insurance deductible for the ambulance and Emergency Room visit was going to cost. That made her feel more than a little ill.
The nurse, dressed in colorfully patterned scrubs, had stopped explaining all the horrifying things that happened to a body during electrocution and had moved on to just nodding and grunting in acknowledgment of Natalie’s protests about not being released yet.
“Knock-knock.” At the sound of Harper’s voice, Natalie whipped her gaze to the door.
She felt a wave of relief. They hadn’t been friends long but after being surrounded by strangers for she didn’t know how many hours, Natalie was grateful for a familiar face.
“Hi.” That was all she could get out as her gratitude started to manifest itself in tears that she choked back.
“How is she?” Harper asked the nurse directly.
“She’s lucky, is what she is.” The nurse shot her a glance then headed out the door leaving Natalie alone with Harper.
“I think she’s tired of my saying I’m fine and I want to get out of here,” Natalie whispered.
Harper leaned close. “I don’t blame you.” Then she smiled. “But seriously. Don’t worry. We’ve got the shop covered.”
There was that mysterious we again that Harper liked to throw around. “We?”
“Jules—the high school girl I suggested you hire—called me when the ambulance took you away so I came right over. We locked up the shop and put a sign in the window explaining the early closing. But people kept showing up to pick up their book club orders and since you said they were all prepaid, I left Jules there with the list of who’d preordered. When I left she was making them give her their name and the book title before she’d unlock the door and hand them the book.”
Natalie cringed. “Oh, no. They must love that.”
Harper lifted one shoulder. “Actually, they’re loving it. Alice Mudd said it reminded her of the stories her father used to tell her about the speakeasies during Prohibition. It might be a good theme for a promotion. Whisper the secret codeword at the register and get ten percent off your order. Something like that.”
