Paper Cuts, page 11
“Why was she living with Val and Kirk? Where’s her husband?”
“In Vegas. With his girlfriend.”
Their server appeared and began clearing their plates. Sensing the tension at the table, she stacked the dishes and hurried away without asking if they’d like another round of drinks.
“He and Kelly—they were divorced?”
Davis stared at her. “You really don’t know about your ex, do you? He and Kelly got divorced seven years ago. Lawrence hasn’t gone back to the altar since, but he’s dated a string of women and has at least one other kid.”
“Jesus,” Nora whispered.
Had Lawrence cheated on Kelly too? Was their divorce amicable or full of animosity? Was he close to Tucker? Was he a good father? Or was he too busy jetting around the world with his latest fling?
As long as he’s not in Miracle Springs, who cares?
Returning her attention to her own circumstances, Nora said, “Am I the only suspect? Or are there others?”
“I couldn’t tell you. At this point, you know everything that I know. The most damning evidence against you is Deputy Hollowell’s statement that you hit Kelly, and Val’s statement that you showed up at their house at eleven at night.”
“But neither of those are true.”
After pulling out his wallet and signaling their server, Davis said, “The truth can be tainted by perception. There are people who believe that you threatened Kelly. However, the only undeniable facts are these.” As he spoke, he ticked them off on his fingers. “Your marriage ended because your husband left you for Kelly. You yelled at Kelly outside the diner. You shoved her. As far as the investigation goes, those are the most pertinent facts in connection with you. The court of public opinion is a whole different ballgame.”
“If the sheriff’s department doesn’t find the real killer, people will assume I was responsible. Even if I don’t get arrested, I’ll lose friends and customers for something I didn’t do.”
“You’ve probably heard that crime has a ripple effect, but a murder investigation doesn’t ripple. It creates a damn riptide. Innocent people are pulled under. They get dragged miles away from safety. Some make it through with a few cuts and bruises. Others drown.” Davis reached for her hand. “You’re going to need lots of support in the days ahead, so lean on your friends. Ask for help. And call me whenever you have a question or you’re feeling anxious. I’ll do what I can to ease your mind.”
Nora was touched by his kindness. He’d told her what he knew, paid for dinner, and offered her advice without asking for anything in return.
June was right. Davis Godwin is an incredible person.
As she drove home, she looked at the glowing windows of the houses and thought about how many of her neighbors were regulars at Miracle Books. She knew all of them by name. She knew what they liked to read. While serving them coffee or hunting for the perfect book, they’d tell her stories about their work and family life. They’d confess their secret fears and hopes. Again and again, they told her that her bookstore was the heart and soul of the town.
Would they still believe in her after the rumors finished circulating? Would they still shop in her store?
Nora thought she’d feel better after meeting with Davis. And though she was grateful to him, he hadn’t been able to allay her fears. Unless Kelly’s killer was identified and charged, Nora might lose everything. Her standing in the community, her business, and quite possibly, the man she loved.
She wanted to see McCabe. She wanted to sit with him on the sofa, close enough that their knees touched, and talk all of this over. They were good at talking. It was how they solved problems, made each other laugh, and planned for the future. The enjoyment they took just being in each other’s company was Nora’s favorite thing about them as a couple. They’d been friends before becoming lovers, and McCabe was the friend Nora needed most right now.
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d turned onto his street.
I’ll just drive by, she told herself. Just seeing his lights and knowing he’s inside will be enough.
But when she saw a car with the department seal and the words K9 UNIT parked in McCabe’s driveway, she felt like the threads holding her world together were being cut, stitch by stitch.
Chapter 8
My mother’s footsteps
Were so quiet
I barely heard her leave.
—John Green
Wednesday came and went with no word from McCabe.
On Thursday morning, Nora and Sheldon were in the Children’s Corner preparing the storytime activity when Nora said, “I might be buying a car tonight.”
“That’s exciting.” Sheldon handed her a piece of green felt. “Can you cut that into strips? Just follow the pencil lines. These are our plant stems.”
“What are you using for flowers?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” Sheldon upended a paper bag and a riot of colorful cupcake liners tumbled out. The bright hues perfectly matched the colors on the cover of Lois Ehlert’s Planting a Rainbow.
Nora said, “Clever.”
“And easy to glue. The felt will be harder for the little monsters, but I like how soft it is. Remember when we read Elmer and the kids made those patchwork felt elephants? It’s one of my favorite projects ever.”
“That was probably less about the felt and more about how you identify with an elephant that’s completely different from the rest of the world’s elephants.”
“Misfit characters are always more fabulous than the rest.” He opened the packages of cupcake liners and began dividing them into colors. “I wanted to use buttons in the center of the flowers, but they’d never stick with regular glue and there’d be wailing, gnashing of teeth, and rending of garments. From me and our itty-bitty readers.”
“If this craft involves glitter, I’m going to cry.”
Sheldon laughed. “It’s good to see your snarky side reemerging. It means that you’re coping.”
“They say people can get used to anything, but I can only adjust to this nightmare for a few moments at a time. I’m so desperate for a distraction that I’m actually looking forward to a shopful of sticky-fingered toddlers. The more chaotic the store, the more I can forget about being a murder suspect.”
Sheldon threw her a sympathetic look. “This can’t go on much longer. McCabe will move heaven and earth to clear your name. He’ll arrest the real killer and then show up at your place with flowers and a box of truffles, begging for your forgiveness.” Sheldon’s eyes gleamed. “And just think of the things he’ll be willing to do. You’ll have him rubbing your feet and washing the dishes for months.”
Nora tried not to fixate on the word “months.” Murder investigations were rarely solved in a matter of days, but what would happen if the status quo dragged on for weeks?
I’ll snap, that’s what’ll happen.
The sleigh bells rang, causing Sheldon to squeak in alarm. “No, no, no! I’m not ready yet!”
“You can put your apron on. I’ll finish up here.”
Because Sheldon’s weekly story hour was always well attended by children and their parents and caregivers, Thursdays were one of the shop’s most profitable mornings. And even though the toddlers and preschoolers left a wake of crumbs, trash, and messy bookshelves, Nora was delighted to see them. She loved fostering young readers and Sheldon reveled in playing dual roles of barista and circus master.
In his sweater-vest, polka-dot bow tie, and red Converse sneakers, he was a rounder, darker-skinned version of Mister Rogers. Like the beloved TV host, Sheldon used puppets to entertain and educate his audience. Today, the rabbit and butterfly puppets would do their best to convince their audience to eat their veggies.
Once their kids were seated “crisscross applesauce” on the alphabet rug, parents and babysitters were free to either watch the performance or wander the store sipping coffee. For the next hour, Nora divided her time between the ticket agent’s booth and the checkout counter.
She’d just finished bagging a stack of historical romance novels for a mom carrying a sleeping baby in a sling when the infant stirred and mewled like a kitten.
The mother laughed. “He’s in his cat phase—naps all day and stays awake all night. It’s a miracle that I handed you the right credit card. The other day, I tried to unlock the door to my house with my car keys. Last week, I sat at a red light until everyone started honking at me. That’s when I realized it wasn’t a red light. It was a stop sign.”
“Sounds like you could use a coffee. Why don’t I keep your bag back here until storytime’s over? You can grab it on your way out,” she told the woman.
“I won’t say no to a decaf. It’s hard to get out of the house with both kids, but it’s so worth it. Thursdays are one of the few times I get to talk to other parents about temper tantrums or picky eating. My husband cares, of course. He’s a good listener too, but it’s not the same. I need to be around people who are living what I’m living.” She swept her arm around the space. “This is so great for the kids, but it’s even better for the grown-ups.”
Nora served the woman her coffee and returned to the front just as a man in overalls and a baseball cap approached the counter. His name was Josh and he and his son were storytime regulars.
“Hey, Nora. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but there’s a boy sitting on the floor in the back of the store. He seems upset. I don’t know if he’s someone’s big brother or what. I asked him if he was okay, but he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t even look at me.”
“Would you show me where he is?”
Josh led Nora past Sci-Fi and Fantasy to the YA section. When they rounded the final corner, Nora saw ahead to where the stacks ended at a painted bookcase filled with new young adult releases.
A brown-haired boy sat with his back to the bookcase and his chin lowered to his chest. Sheets of colored paper were piled on the carpet to his right and a dozen origami butterflies were scattered around his body like a fairy ring.
Turning to Josh, Nora whispered, “I know this boy. He’s very shy, so I should probably speak to him alone. Thanks for coming to get me.”
Nora waited for Josh to walk away before dropping to her knees a few feet away from Tucker. He continued to fold a lime-green piece of paper as if she wasn’t there, tears dripping down his cheeks onto his shirt.
“Hi, Tucker,” Nora whispered. “I don’t know if you remember me, but my name’s Nora. I definitely remember you. You like Star Wars and making shapes using paper. What’s that called again?”
She waited for him to fill in the blank, and it took him so long to answer that she didn’t think he would. Finally, he murmured, “Origami.”
“That’s it. Origami. You’re really good at it, Tucker. These butterflies are beautiful.”
“They’re for my mom.”
A vise clamped around Nora’s heart and squeezed. She wanted to take Tucker into her arms and gently rock him. She wanted to wipe his tears away with a soft tissue. But this heartbroken child wouldn’t welcome her touch, so she had to find a way to soothe him with words.
Brushing the wing of a butterfly, she said, “This is such a pretty color.”
Tucker sniffed. “It’s the color of Snoopy’s doghouse. Snoopy is Mom’s favorite, but I like Woodstock. Yellow’s my favorite color too. My room in my old house was yellow.”
“So many wonderful things are yellow. Honey, sunflowers, lemonade . . .”
Tucker kept folding.
“I saw a yellow seahorse once,” he said. “In an aquarium. They’re not very good at swimming, but they don’t have too many predators because other fish don’t like how they taste. The dads have the babies. The moms and dads stay together their whole lives.”
Nora wanted to ask Tucker about his dad but bit back the question. “Do your aunt and uncle know you’re here?”
Tucker shrugged.
“You can come to my store whenever you want if it’s okay with your aunt and uncle. I can call them and tell them you’re here, so they don’t worry. How does that sound?”
“Okay.”
“You know, I have a special drink for my favorite customers. It’s called Harry Potter hot chocolate. It has whipped cream and lots of rainbow marshmallows. Would you like one?”
Tucker sniffled. “I don’t like whipped cream.”
“Fine with me. You can have extra marshmallows instead.”
“Okay.”
Nora hurried into the ticket agent’s booth and pulled out her phone. She dialed Tea Flowers and pressed the phone to her ear while taking a Darth Vader mug down from the pegboard.
“Tea Flowers. How may I help you?”
“Kirk? This is Nora. Tucker’s here, at the bookstore. I had a feeling you might not know.”
Nora heard murmuring in the background. Then Kirk said, “We’ve been looking all over for him. I’ll be right there.”
As soon as he hung up, giggles erupted from the Children’s Corner and Nora heard the high, singsong voice Sheldon reserved for the puppets. “But I don’t want carrots! I only want cookies!”
Whatever he said next was drowned out by the gargle of the milk frother.
Nora didn’t heat the milk as much as she would have for an adult. Their hot chocolate was more like very warm chocolate. Children also received twice as many marshmallows.
By the time she returned to the YA section, Tucker had made five more butterflies.
“Here’s your Harry Potter hot chocolate,” she said, setting the mug down on the carpet. “Do you have any paper that matches the colors of these marshmallows?”
Tucker set aside the lime-green butterfly he’d been folding and reached for the mug. “I have some marble paper like that. It’s at Uncle Kirk’s house.”
“He knows you’re here now.”
“They said I had to stay at the store, but I don’t like it there. I want to stay home, but they won’t let me.”
Nora nodded. “Where do you go to school?”
“Mom teaches me. We do math, science, reading, history, drawing, and computer. We have to go outside every day, even if it’s raining. If it’s really cold, I get to work on my LEGO city. That’s what I wanted to do today, but Aunt Val said I couldn’t.”
Though Tucker wasn’t looking directly at her, Nora saw the angry jut of his chin.
“The little kids will be leaving soon,” she said. “You can stay here and drink your hot chocolate. I’ll come back and check out your new butterflies after they’re gone.”
“They’re loud,” Tucker complained.
The giggles from the Children’s Corner had escalated to shrieks and squeals, which meant Sheldon was nearing the end of his performance. Craft time was next, and because the parents always helped with the activity, the noise level would soon return to normal.
Nora said, “It’ll be quieter soon.”
Three customers were waiting at the checkout counter. Nora apologized for the delay and rang up their purchases as quickly and efficiently as possible. As a customer opened the door on his way out, the sound of church bells tolling the hour floated into the shop.
Eleven. The trolley will be here any minute.
Nora suddenly felt anxious. Between the children and the Lodge guests, the bookstore was about to get even noisier, and Tucker was clearly sensitive to noise.
Following on the heels of her departing customer, Nora stepped outside and glanced to the right, expecting to see Kirk heading her way. If she’d looked to her left, she would have noticed the woman in a sheriff’s department uniform and a large, all-black German shepherd bearing down on her.
“Ms. Pennington!” Deputy Hollowell shouted.
Nora spotted the pair of deputies and felt a stab of alarm.
Don’t freak out. You haven’t broken any laws.
“Is the Walsh kid in there?” Hollowell demanded, jerking a thumb at the storefront.
“Yes. I already called his uncle. Kirk should be here any minute now.”
Hollowell moved closer. When her K9 partner began to sniff Nora’s sneaker, Hollowell’s mouth twisted in a wry grin.
“Show me where he is.”
Nora took a step back. “You’re welcome to come inside, but the dog has to say out here.”
“Are you preventing a deputy and his handler from checking on the welfare of a missing child?”
“I’m barring your canine partner, not you. Tucker isn’t the only kid in the shop. It’s our weekly storytime—I have at least twenty kids in there. Mostly toddlers and babies. A big, strange dog will scare them. Some of their parents too.”
To Nora’s horror, Hollowell responded by calling for backup.
A nanny with a toddler on her hip exited Miracle Books. When she saw Hollowell and the black dog, she froze.
“Doggie!” cried the child in the nanny’s arms. “I wanna pet him!”
“No, Hiroshi. We can’t. That’s a police dog.” The nanny leaned over to Nora and whispered, “Is everything okay?”
Nora forced a smile. “Absolutely. Did Hiroshi finish his craft already?”
The nanny shook her head. “We had to leave early because Hiroshi’s visiting Mom at her office today. We’ll do the craft later. Sheldon gave us a bag of supplies.” She smoothed Hiroshi’s dark hair. “Sheldon’s the best, isn’t he?”
Hiroshi was too fascinated by the police dog to answer.
After shooting a wary glance at the two deputies, the nanny walked away. Nora watched her cross the street and exhaled in relief when she saw Kirk Walsh on the opposite sidewalk.
“There’s Kirk,” Nora told Hollowell. “I’ll take him to Tucker, and everything will be fine. No harm done.”
Kirk was red-faced and panting by the time he reached the bookstore. Without waiting for him to catch his breath, Hollowell said, “Did this woman invite your nephew to her business without your permission?”
“What?” Nora spluttered. “I had nothing—”
Cutting her protest short, Kirk said, “All I know is that Tucker was in our stockroom one minute and gone the next.” He looked at Nora. “Is he okay?”
