Miranda James - Murder Past Due

Patty waited until Jordan was safely out of earshot before moving a step closer to me and Diesel. “She used to be in love with him, you know.”

“Really?” I felt awkward. This was the kind of thing I had come for, but it suddenly seemed a bit embarrassing.

Patty was not embarrassed. “Oh yeah, she would go off to those mystery conventions, when he was still showing up at them, and I think they had a big ol’ fling. But then he must’ve dumped her.”

“That’s too bad. He did have a terrible reputation with women, though.” I kept an eye on the back room. Jordan might reappear at any moment, and I didn’t want her to catch us.

“And that was when he stopped coming to the store.” Patty sounded triumphant, as if she’d just solved a puzzle.

That was interesting. Hell hath no fury, etc. Not to mention a bookstore owner whose business could be hurt by the defection of a big-selling writer.

Jordan stuck her head out of the back room. “Patty, have you started on that backlist order yet?”

“Just starting it now.” Patty’s tone was cheerful in reply. She winked at me. “If you need help with anything, you just let me know.” She turned to look around the counter for something. She picked up a printout and brandished it at me. “I have to go through the romance section and decide what we need to reorder. I’m the expert for that section.”

As she turned, her foot caught on something, and she stumbled toward me. I put out a hand to steady her, and Diesel scooted out of the way.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now what’s this doing here?”

She stooped down and picked up a box of books that had been sitting on the floor behind the counter. She set the box, labeled with Godfrey’s name and the title of his new book, on the counter next to the doughnuts.

Julia’s words from last night flashed into my mind. “Could I have a look at one of those? I haven’t read it yet.”

Shrugging, Patty pulled one out of the box and handed it to me. “It’s pretty awful. I gave up after fifty pages.”

I heard her only dimly as I opened the book to the title page. There, below the printed name, was Godfrey’s signature.

And yesterday’s date.

FIFTEEN

“This is pretty interesting.” I held the book out to Patty.

She took it from me and glanced down at the title page.

“Whoa. This is going to be worth something, let me tell you.” She snapped the book shut and stuck it back in the box.

“I suppose so.” I was annoyed she hadn’t given the book back to me, but perhaps she was so surprised she didn’t realize her rudeness.

“So that’s where she was.” Patty muttered the words under her breath, but I was close enough to make them out.

“What are you doing?”

Neither of us had heard Jordan approach. Patty stared at her boss like a fox caught in the proverbial henhouse, while I mustered as innocent-looking a smile as I could.

“Just looking at this box of books,” I said. “I was thinking about buying one. I haven’t read it yet.”

Jordan’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as she looked from Patty to me. “These aren’t for sale.”

“Then what are you going to do with them?” I thought that was a reasonable question. She could surely sell them for a lot more than list price—books signed by a famous mystery writer the day he was murdered. Talk about collectible.

“I meant they’re all spoken for,” Jordan said in a more conciliatory tone. “They’re all special orders.” She turned and reached for the box.

“You know, I saw Godfrey yesterday morning,” I said. “I know he had plans for lunch. Was that when he signed them?”

Jordan stepped back from the box and glared at me.

Patty watched avidly, her eyes going back and forth between her boss and me.

“No, it wasn’t,” Jordan said, her face flushing. “If you must know, he signed them yesterday afternoon. I went by his hotel room.”

“Gosh, then maybe you were the last person to see him alive.” Patty could hardly contain her glee. “I bet the police will want to talk to you.”

Jordan, in the act of reaching for the box again, stumbled against the counter. When she turned, her face was dead white. For a moment I thought she was going to faint, but she rallied. She pulled a high-seated stool over and sat down on it. “What happened?”

“You haven’t heard?” I was surprised. She was probably the one person in Athena who hadn’t. “Godfrey was found dead in his hotel room last night. The sheriff’s department is treating it as a suspicious death.”

“Oh dear Lord.” Jordan muttered the words over and over.

“Can I get you some coffee or something?” Patty, suddenly contrite, appeared anxious.

Jordan waved her away. “No, just go do your job for once.”

Patty’s sulky expression didn’t bode well for her dedication to the task, but she went away quietly.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned by how shaken Jordan still seemed to be.

Diesel, sensing her distress, stood up on his hind legs and stretched his right paw out, touching her thigh. Jordan gave him a shaky smile and a rub on the head.

“If she ever does penance for anything, it’ll be for that double-jointed tongue of hers.” Jordan paused and breathed deeply. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. It’s a shock, hearing news like that. So completely unexpected.” She continued rubbing Diesel’s head.

“You really had no idea?” Was she a consummate actress, only pretending to be stunned?

Jordan shook her head. “No, why should I? I never make it to the ten o’clock news. I’m always too tired. And nobody called me, either.” She snorted. “Though I’m surprised Patty didn’t.”

“Was Godfrey a particular friend of yours?” I wasn’t sure how she would react. This might be my last visit to her bookstore if I wasn’t careful, and I certainly wouldn’t like that. “Sorry, but you seem pretty shaken up.”

“More than a bookstore owner should be for a writer who hadn’t deigned to enter her premises in five years?” Jordan laughed, a bitter sound. Diesel sat back on his haunches and stared up at her.

“I suppose so, yes. If you put it that way.” Perhaps I should have excused myself and gotten the heck out of there, but curiosity kept me.

“I’ll tell you one thing: I’m not sorry the bastard’s dead.” Jordan stood up, and Diesel scooted back beside me. “He embarrassed the hell out of me by not showing up here—twice—for advertized events. Not to mention the money I lost on returning hundreds of copies of his books—books I could easily have sold. But he didn’t have to balls to show his face in here.”

“That’s too bad. No wonder you were pissed at him.” I didn’t know what else to say. The passion in her voice startled me. Right now, she sounded angry enough to have killed him.

But anger this intense because of business?

Or was there something more personal behind it, as Patty claimed?

I couldn’t ask her that outright, or I really would be banned from the bookstore. At the moment I couldn’t think of a subtle way of getting at the information either.

“Now, is there something I can help you with?” Jordan became very businesslike.

“I would still like a copy of Godfrey’s latest book.” I nodded at the box of signed copies. “If those aren’t available, an unsigned copy will do.”

Jordan stared at the box for a moment before reaching into it and pulling out a book. “It’s okay. You can buy one.”

“Thank you.” I went around to the front of the counter, Diesel at my heels. As Jordan rang up my purchase and bagged it, I pulled out my debit card.

The transaction finished, Jordan returned my card and handed me the bag. “Thank you very much.” She didn’t smile the way she usually did, but she also didn’t look like she never wanted to see me in her store again. That was a relief.