Grand Prize: Murder!

She grimaced. “Dull stuff, but it can’t be avoided. So we need rooms for all of them. Or maybe a bungalow in a holiday resort? I’m sure that spending a day or two in the same house won’t kill them.”

Although Bella said it with that ever-present smile, it sounded cynical.

Even a little ominous?

Vicky tried to read something in Bella’s expression. “If they’re on the same team, they’re used to spending time together, I suppose?” she suggested cheerfully.

Bella grimaced. “They may be on the same team, but in this business it’s each to his own.”

She fell silent as if she had already said too much. Then she sprang to life again. “If you just get that key at the real estate agent’s, we can have a look at the apartment right away.”

Marge already started to rush down the street, but then turned back. “Your car can’t stay here at the curb. Our old sheriff stuck to warnings, but since Cash Rowland got elected, they hand out real tickets. Better transfer it into the lot there at the church, huh?”

“Cash Rowland? Quite a catchy name. In one of my books he’d be a terrible playboy who would have scores of jealous husbands and vengeful ex-wives out to get him. He might die. Or he might be the main suspect who didn’t do it.”

“I’d keep those ideas to yourself,” Vicky said quickly. “Our sheriff takes his new responsibilities very seriously and doesn’t like to be associated with anything…dubious.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bella laughed throatily. “I can’t wait to meet him. But not at the receiving end of a ticket, I guess. I’m already drowning in speed violations. Don’t know how I do it, with a car like this.”

She got back in and drove off, people staring at her from the other side of the street.

“Wow,” Marge whispered to Vicky with a star-struck expression, “she’s so glamorous and flamboyant. And she is actually going to live in our town for a while. Wait until I tell Kev!”

“Yeah,” Vicky said, rubbing her temple where a slight headache was forming. “I hadn’t expected her here right now. We still need to tie up so many loose ends before the book signing on Saturday. And I have half the town in my store for snacks right now.”

But she was already talking to thin air as Marge galloped off to the real estate office to get the key to the upstairs apartment for their inspection.

Vicky glanced in the direction of the church parking lot with a sense of dread. When Bella had offered to do a signing in Glen Cove as part of her New England book tour, Vicky had thought that the famous author would just come into town, sign some books for local fans, maybe have dinner with Marge and her, and leave again. But now Bella would be staying here for days.

She probably expected a whole lot, both from the small town and the simple book signing on Saturday.

Maybe she expected a lot more than the Country Gift Shop could deliver?

Chapter Two

Vicky went inside the Country Gift Shop and asked her mother to entertain the locals while she saw to lodgings for her suddenly arrived guest author. Claire beamed. “Of course. You do whatever you have to do. Oh, and let the mayor welcome her. He’s here anyway.”

“Good idea.” Vicky squeezed her mother’s shoulder and went for the town father who was just scooping lots of cream and jam on a scone. When he heard that a famous author had arrived though, he left his sweet treat in the care of his secretary and followed Vicky outside at once.

Bella had just come back from parking her car, pulling a huge suitcase on wheels behind her. The mayor shook her hand and welcomed her to Glen Cove, offering her a personal tour of his offices if she had the time for it. Bella declined with a smile, saying she did hope the mayor would come to the book signing on Saturday.

“Oh, I will. My wife loves your books. Too bad she isn’t here this afternoon. She left for a charity luncheon and then a fundraiser for the old lighthouse. You must have seen the lighthouse on your way into town.”

“Very picturesque,” Bella said. “I’ll be looking out for your wife at the book signing. Now I’d like to go up and see the apartment I might stay in.” Her tone was charming and her smile wide, but just a little impatience rang in her movement as she inched her suitcase closer to the apartment’s door.

“Of course,” the town father said. “Until Saturday then.” And with a bow he vanished into the gift shop, no doubt to dig into his scone.

“Here we are.” From ten feet away Marge waved the key to the apartment. She panted as she came to a halt to unlock the door. “If you need anything special, you just have to shout. Groceries for cooking maybe? I could get you fresh fish from the harbor. Today’s catch.”

“No, I think I’ll eat out. I’m not the best cook.” Bella waved a hand. “I do love fish and by the looks of this place, there is plenty of fish cuisine around here to try.”

“And don’t forget the lobster,” Marge enthused. “With butter and bread from the oven.”

The door creaked open. Marge said, “Let me carry your suitcase up for you. It looks heavy.”

“Thank you.” Bella followed Vicky up the bare stairs, Marge closing the door with the large suitcase in her hand.

To Vicky’s relief the former tenant had left the apartment quite neat and clean. Basic furniture such as a sofa, table and chairs and a bed were all there. The kitchen was a little dated maybe, and the faucet in the bathroom dripped, but Bella twirled in the middle of the living room, lifted her arms to the ceiling and sighed. “Perfect for my needs. Arrange it with the owner, will you?”

She walked over to the window and glanced down into the street. For a moment it seemed she froze and stared at something, then she turned round to Vicky again and said lightly, “I have a present for you two.”

She opened her purse and produced a paper-wrapped parcel and held it out to Marge with a flourish. “I went to the website you write book recommendations for and saw how many times you have written reviews of my series.”

Marge nodded. “I love gushing about my favorite books.”

While Bella handed the gift to Marge, Vicky moved to the window unobtrusively to look down into the street. Tourists had just come off a tour bus and were walking to the diner. In front of the hardware store families watched as one of the Dawson brothers created small wooden animals with his coping saw. A man stood a little apart, looking up at the window behind which Vicky was standing. He had a camera in his hand. But that was nothing new in a tourist town.

Bella was saying to Marge, “You didn’t start when you knew that I’d be coming over here. No, you plugged my books before you knew you’d ever meet me. You’re not…sucking up to me.”

Bella’s tone was angry as if she had experienced that too often. “You really love my books for the stories. Exactly the sort of person I tour for. The fan I want to meet and make happy. So here it is.”

Marge clutched the parcel with both hands, then carefully tore off the tape. She folded the simple brown paper away and looked down on the colorful cover of a hardback book marked ARC.

Vicky read the title upside down: Murder At The Manor, the new installment in the See Britain And Die series.

Bella said, “Nobody has this yet. I pinched one to gift to you and thank you for all your support through the years.”

Marge had already opened the book. “Oh, it starts with a prologue of a man on the moors. Very evocative.” Her eyes moved quickly as she glanced down the page. “You always set the scene so well. I feel like I’m there from the first sentence.”

Vicky said, “I’m glad you like the apartment. That takes care of your lodgings for the duration of your stay. Now about the book signing on Saturday, it’s really just a simple thing…”

She glanced at Marge for support, but her friend was oblivious to the world. Vicky took a deep breath and continued, “We had talked about adding some promotional activity to give it some more pull, but to be honest, we hadn’t quite figured out what yet. Of course we don’t want you to sit there for nothing.”

She already envisioned Bella behind a table with a stack of books on either side of her and not a single soul to come ask for an autograph. That would be a disaster.

But she had no idea what she could come up with on such short notice.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Bella cut across her nervous explanation. “I’ll add my scavenger hunt.”

Vicky stared at her. “The what?”

Bella smiled. “I already did that once in another state and it worked like magic. You give people clues and whoever first solves the mystery, the case as it were, wins the grand prize.”

Vicky hoped that Bella herself would provide that grand prize. Maybe a set of autographed books? Just starting out, the Country Gift Shop didn’t have the cash flow to cover prize money.

Bella continued, “A trip for two to London.”

Now even Marge came back to reality. She looked up from the ARC and gasped, “Did you say London?”

Vicky’s mouth hung open. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Flights aren’t cheap, and if you want to stay in London itself, the hotels charge steep prices.”

“Oh, no. Look, when I planned my New England book tour, I knew I wanted to do the scavenger hunt someplace. Why not here in Glen Cove? People might come in from a wider area. It will boost the town. And I enjoy a bustle. We can kick off during the signing. That’s Saturday, right? Then we can have the scavenger hunt continue during the next few days. I’ll reveal new clues every now and then. People can play along and then on the next Friday I’ll announce the big winner.”

Vicky blinked. “That sounds amazing. The announcement of the winner would coincide with the closing barbecue for the One-Mile Book Market. But… Uh… You will put in this prize? The trip to London?”

“Yes, I have a sponsor.” Bella sounded as if it offended her. “A travel agency that does trips to the UK. They insisted on me giving away a prize like this, to promote them. I accepted because it attracts attention; people buy more books. Win-win situation, my marketing strategist calls it.”

Bella gestured with her delicate hands. “Once Paul is here, you can meet him. Brilliant ideas, but a bit of a…big ego.”

Vicky just nodded. Her mind was not on big egos, but on the easy solution this scavenger hunt idea provided for Marge and her. They need not come up with something fast. And it would really make her contribution the highlight of the One-Mile Book Market. After that, the name Country Gift Shop would be seared into people’s memories. Even the normally slow winter season would be good.

Bella said, “There is one little legal thing. Because your store sponsors my book signing, people associated with the store can’t participate in the scavenger hunt. Not only them, but also their family members. So I’m afraid you two can’t try and win your way to London.”

“That’s a bit of a downer,” Marge agreed. “But it will be amazing publicity for the Country Gift Shop.”

A snazzy tune resounded, and Bella grabbed her purse. She pulled out a sleek silver phone with a pendant studded with colorful gemstones and accepted the call. She listened for a few moments, her fine brows drawing together.

Then Bella said, “Look, I flew out here today, because I wanted to. You people can’t tell me what to do or not. I pay you. You don’t own me.” And she disconnected.

She gave Vicky an apologetic smile. “My PR people think they can tell me what flight to take and in what hotel to stay. But I like to take care of such things myself. Thanks again for getting me the apartment. I really appreciate the privacy it affords to work on my plot problems.”

“Of course.” Vicky nodded with a smile. “We’d better be getting down again. There are people at the store.”

“Of course. I’m sorry I intruded. Thank you again for setting me up here so quickly. I’ll get my things unpacked.”

Bella waved them off, and Vicky raced down the stairs, followed by Marge holding the ARC she had put back in the brown paper.

Marge whispered, “She is wonderful.”

Vicky nodded. Wonderful, but also determined and used to getting what she wanted. Some people might read that as being stuck-up, self-centered, even domineering. They’d better make sure everything moved along smoothly so there was no reason for confrontation.

She closed the apartment’s door and went into the gift shop to mingle with the guests still present. The mayor and most shopkeepers had already left again to see to their own business, leaving a bouquet or other small gift on the counter. Claire pointed out at once which gift was from whom. “Typical of the baker to give you a pot of honey. He can never keep his hobby out of it.”

“I’m glad they were all here. And thanks for covering for me, Mom, while I was up with Bella. She’s all settled in now.”

Marge had immediately descended on Ms. Tennings and her bridge friends to whisper to them about the scavenger hunt. “It will be announced Saturday after the book signing. I think we need posters or something to advertise it. I can design something. If we print it off and multiply it at the Joneses where they have this big machine, it need not cost a ton either.”

Trust Marge to start organizing at once, Vicky thought with a smile.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned round. Diane smiled at her. “The kids are gone already, and Alain and I are going too.”

Vicky studied Diane’s expression. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I can understand though that Michael didn’t want to come. It’s odd to…be in the center of attention like this. All the while the mayor was talking I was wondering what Celine would have thought of this. She never could stand pompous people, you know.”

Diane’s voice trembled a bit. “Alain insisted that I come, also for…closure as he calls it. But I don’t know if anything like it even exists.”

Vicky squeezed her arm in silent sympathy.

Diane said with a sigh, “I can’t explain it, but now that we know for sure that Celine did die, it’s like she’s more alive than ever. I remember all the things we used to do and how much fun we used to have. There is a memory around every corner here in Glen Cove.” She blinked.

Vicky didn’t know what to say. Maybe the same reason had prompted Michael to leave for Copenhagen? He had claimed to her it was a sort of paid vacation, but his expression had told her something else. He had to get away again, run from the hurting, like he had always done. It was his way of survival. That didn’t change overnight.

Maybe in a way it was even worse now that he had found the answers he had been hunting for so long. There was nothing left to do now. Just an emptiness in which he felt the loss all the deeper.

She said to Diane, “Look, if you need distraction, you can always stop by at the store and lend a hand. It will be busy with Bella around for the book signing and the scavenger hunt. It’ll last through next week.”

Diane smiled thinly. “Thanks. And you have to come to dinner at my place sometime so we really have time to catch up. I want to show you the books for the architecture classes I’m taking. It’s an online course, ideal to put some time into whenever you want. Early in the morning or at night. I think you’ll really like it.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a call to determine the night.” With her hand on Diane’s shoulder Vicky accompanied the couple out of the store.

To her surprise the man who had been looking up at the apartment from across the street was now in front of the apartment’s door, peering in through the glass pane. The For Rent poster obstructed most of his view so he was tilting his head in every possible angle to see something.

With a frown Vicky stepped up to him and asked, “Excuse me? Can I help you?”

A normal person would have felt some kind of shock or shame at being caught red-handed like that, but the man simply faced her and asked, “Is Bella Brookes staying here?”

He waved up at the upstairs windows. “I rang the bell a couple of times, but she doesn’t come to the door.”

Ignoring his demanding tone, Vicky asked, “And you are?”

“Giverny. Haven Herald. I’d love an interview with her about her books.”

“Then you have to contact her PR people. They are in charge of the entire book tour. They know her schedule and can determine if they can fit you in.”

Vicky tried to stay polite and accommodating, although she thought the man was being quite pushy in an off-putting way. Did he really expect Bella would just invite him in for a chat?

He also had a three-day stubble and a huge mustache that looked like it came from an amateur theater kit.

Giverny said, “I only want to know if she’s staying here. I saw her lugging a big suitcase in.”

“You have to call the PR people,” Vicky insisted. If she confirmed to this guy Bella was indeed staying here, he might keep ringing the bell until Bella opened the door out of sheer annoyance at the noise. “They can tell you much more than I can, I’m sure. Good day, Mr. Giverny.” She stared at him, forcing him to back away from the door and cross the street again.

Diane and Alain had watched the exchange, and Diane now asked, “What does he want?”

Vicky shrugged. “He claims to be a reporter out for an interview with Bella.”

Alain said, “Must be some paparazzo. His camera doesn’t have a real big lens though. It’s more like a holiday kind of camera.”

Vicky made a dismissive gesture. “Maybe he’ll bring a photographer to the interview he wants to do? It doesn’t matter really. As long as he doesn’t bother Bella. Thanks so much for coming to see the sign being unveiled, and I’ll be in touch about dinner.”

She hugged Diane and watched as the couple walked away, hand in hand, down the busy street.

Then, involuntarily, she scanned for the brash Mr. Giverny again. He was outside the diner, pretending to read the menu on the chalkboard beside the entrance. He held a cell phone to his ear and was talking fast, excitedly. Probably reporting to his newspaper that he had found Bella Brookes.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Bella was used to attention and judging by her determined way of handling things, she’d be quite able to deal with the press.

After a long, loving look at her brand-new sign Vicky went back into the Country Gift Shop.

Chapter Three

Marge had put the laptop on the counter and was working the keyboard with two fingers. Still it produced a sound as if someone was typing with ten. Marge only had one speed: full tilt.

Claire had sat down in a chair by the fireplace with the dogs in her lap and called out that computers were a mystery to her. “I don’t trust them.”

Ms. Tennings nodded in agreement. She sat opposite Claire with a wooden tray on her lap. On the tray were a dozen small soaps she was decorating with ribbons, each in a matching or contrasting color. “I do use email to stay in touch with some old friends in the UK,” she confided, “and I know how to pay bills electronically, but I can’t work out all the functions of such programs.”

“Aren’t there courses for senior citizens at the community center?” Marge said as she clicked on the touch pad.

Ms. Tennings grimaced. “Yes, but going to one of those makes me feel quite helpless. I’ve been the teacher for all of my life, you know.” She held up a reddish soap with a white ribbon to Vicky. “How do you like this?”

Vicky came over for a closer look. “Great. I’m also thinking about some finishing touches. Maybe a sprig of lavender and herbs from the garden? I really want to make the gifts stand out so I’ll get more orders for hen parties.”

“When are you delivering this order?”

“Saturday morning at the hotel where the bride-to-be and her family are staying.”

Ms. Tennings nodded. “We’ll do the finishing touches then. I can bring material from my garden as well so we have enough. Everything else is arranged for?”

Vicky enumerated on her fingers, “For each guest to the hen party a small soap from my exclusive collection, a scented candle in a glass holder with heart decoration and a mini book with quotes, appropriate to their connection to the bride-to-be. So quotes on motherhood for Mom, being sisters for the sisters, friendship for the friends et cetera.”

“You forgot to mention,” Marge said, “that the bride-to-be mailed us a list with everybody’s favorite color and favorite scent so we can customize the whole thing. Imagine this: Monica likes red so she has to have the strawberry-scented candle and the soap with the reddish tinge and then the book on friends. Oh no, she is a sister-in-law so she has to get the book on sisters.”

Vicky laughed. “You make it sound so terrible. My client just wants bespoke presents.”

Marge grimaced. “I’m used to bulk orders. If you had ever washed the outfits for a Little League team, you’d know what I mean.”

Vicky laughed even harder. “So Kev made the promise to the trainer and you are doing all the work?”

Marge sighed in resignation. “They are also coming to our place to eat after training. I’ll be making about a hundred pancakes.”

Vicky cringed. “Then I’d rather do the hen party order. Each to his own, right? What on earth are you doing anyway?”

“I’m using Bella’s cover with the London skyline because it’s so familiar. Then all I need is some catchy text. For the posters, to advertise the scavenger hunt.”

Vicky and Ms. Tennings came to stand by Marge’s side as she put pictures in place and added text.

SEE BRITAIN AND DIE author Bella Brookes

signs at the Glen Cove Community Center.

Be there for a chance to win a trip for two

to that capital of crime

LONDON!

“How’s that?” she asked, staring at the screen in concentration.

Vicky whistled. “Where did you learn to make things like that?”

“The library needed promotional material last year, and I offered to make it. You can hire someone for it, but you know how we are budget-wise. So I taught myself all I know. I’m not too hot on courses either where the computer whiz makes you feel like you can’t keep up. Now I can make as many mistakes as I like and repair them without anyone looking over my shoulder.”

Marge grinned at Ms. Tennings, then turned to Vicky again. “Anything you don’t like about this design? I can still change the font size for instance.”

“Yes, maybe we should put the date and time in a different font. Or maybe even in a different place on the poster? To draw attention? If people walk past it, they don’t have much time to grab the essentials.”

“Right. Where would you like it? How big?”

Vicky leaned over and pointed out a few more things that Marge changed with a mouse click or two.

After all changes were done and the end product fully approved, Marge printed off one full-color version on the store’s printer and handed it to her with a bow. “Your master copy, ma’am. Multiply it at the Joneses and we can spread it around town.”

Claire sat up already, eager to do her part. “I’ll take some posters along for Marjorie’s B&B and the fishmonger. I’m picking up dinner there anyway.” She brushed the head of Mr. Pug, who looked alert and ready to jump into action as well. “We don’t have much time to get people talking about this.”

At Jones General across the road, Vicky was met by Mrs. Jones’ cousin, Bob, a nice-looking guy in his mid-thirties who was a favorite with the senior citizens to whom he delivered groceries. Bob was always eager to help change a lightbulb or look at a leaking faucet. He drove little old ladies out to their bridge nights or to the bank. He taught them how to use email so they could contact their grandchildren with ease or how to make a digital photo album of their family snapshots. There wasn’t a whole lot that Bob couldn’t do.

Now, with a wide smile, he asked Vicky if he could show her how the copying machine worked.

Acknowledging the possibility that she’d accidentally run off faulty copies she couldn’t use but would have to pay for, Vicky gave him the master copy.