Chapter 4
S he would have to leave for supplies. There was nothing for it. While she’d hoped to have everything delivered, thereby saving her the pain of human interaction, she found it nearly impossible. Only after she ordered her fourth box of canned food—and failed to have it delivered—did she learn there were two Paradise, Montanas. One was on the map. Hers wasn’t. Delivery companies scratched their heads when she gave them her location. Not even Google Maps had heard of her whereabouts.
She sat in her shiny SUV for fifteen full minutes before she could garner the courage to start the car and drive it. I’m going to town, she pep talked herself. Groceries, that’s all. In and out. I’ve gotten groceries a hundred times. No one will notice my presence. I don’t have to talk to a soul.
On the way to the town’s lone market she spotted the library and, before she knew what she was going to do, pulled into a parking spot. I am at the library. What is happening? In Celeste’s pre-assassin life, she would have beaten herself up for even considering a stop at the library. But her new role as plant ambassador left her feeling a bit desperate. Maybe they had books on trees. Maybe those books would give her some clue what she should do with them.
In any case, she was curious about the adorably tiny little building, so little it looked like a miniature library, like it should go with an adjoining dollhouse. Before she could talk herself out of it, she unbuckled and hopped from the SUV, resisting the urge to roll her shoulders and take a look around. No competition here, no one gunning for you. You’re safe. Still, she’d feel better once she was inside and not so exposed. She opened the door, took a step toward the rows of books, and that was when she heard it.
“Psst, New Girl.” Someone was whispering at her. She spun and saw one of the most handsome men she had ever encountered in real life, all six feet blond hair and blue eyes of him. He was smiling cordially. At her. He raised his hand and added a friendly wave. “I’m Tony, Elliot’s dad.”
She did a site-gag-double-take worthy of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. “Holy geez, you must be joking. Did you have him when you were five?” There was no way this guy had a son as old as Elliot had seemed.
“Seventeen. Stay in school, kids. Although I actually did, because I basically abandoned his mom and left her high and dry a couple of decades before I got my act together.”
Celeste blinked at him.
“I’m spewing a lot of deeply personal information at you, huh?”
She nodded.
“Care to return the favor?” he asked, somewhat hopefully, she thought.
She shook her head.
“Probably a good call.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and added a loudly whispered aside. “I’m the town gossip.”
She continued to stare at him, uncertain how to make a safe and speedy exit.
“This is where you back away slowly,” he added helpfully, fluttering his fingers at her in a “shoo” motion.
No one had to tell her twice. She back stepped a few times until she was swallowed by the stacks. And then she faced a new problem: she had no idea how to locate anything in a library. It was likely they’d tried to teach her once or twice in school, but she definitely hadn’t paid attention. She stared at the tidy rows of books, tilting her head to read some of the spines. How hard would it be to find a few books about fruit?
“Oh, hi.”
Repressing a sigh, she turned toward the friendly female voice to her left.
“You’re the new girl. Oh, my goodness, so adorable.”
The woman who spoke was fairly adorable, too, with blond hair, sparkly aqua eyes, and honest to goodness dimples. She looked older than Celeste, so homogenously older that Celeste couldn’t calculate her true age. Older but well preserved in that middle-aged wealthy white woman way that spoke of serums and face oils. “I’m Maybe Montgomery.”
Celeste quirked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe. You’re not certain?”
“I’m definitely Maybe. It’s short for Maybelle, but tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”
“I highly doubt that,” Celeste said, making sure to keep her tone even.
“Do you like beef?”
Celeste blinked at her with no idea how to answer. It was, hands down, the first time someone had ever asked her for a meat preference.
“If not, you’d better or they’ll find you.”
Celeste tensed. “Who?”
“The cowboys. Oh, I’ll give you a list.”
“What list?” A hit list? Certainly they couldn’t know her proclivities.
“A list of which ones are datable and which ones to avoid. Here’s a hint.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and spoke in a loudly whispered aside, exactly as Tony had done. Celeste wondered if it was a bit they’d tag-teamed. “If the teeth are black, take a step back.”
Celeste blinked at her, wondering how best to make her disappear. “Beef good, black teeth bad. Got it.”
She must have because Maybe beamed at her. “You’re all caught up. Welcome to Paradise. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Her glance fell to the shelves of books. “Were you hoping to check something out?”
“Yes?” Celeste said, but it came out like a question.
“Did you bring mail?”
“What?” Was this woman on crack? Was the entire town insane? All signs pointed to yes so far.
“Mail,” Maybe reiterated. “They won’t let you get a library card without mail to confirm your identity. But, hey, use mine. Just tell them Maybe said you could.”
“They won’t let me get a card, but they’ll let me use yours?”
“Sure, they know me.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, no. I was supposed to pick up my granddaughter from Twinkle Toes.”
“This town has a dance studio?” Celeste blurted.
“Lassoing school,” Maybe explained. “The twinkle toes designate the lassoed calf.” She raised her two hands, mimicking hooves, pawing them in the air. “Twinkle, twinkle, moo, moo, moo.”
Celeste blinked at her, unable to fathom a hasty reply. “You look freakishly young to be a grandma.”
“Had her mom when I was eighteen,” Maybe explained.
“Is that a prerequisite in this town?”
“I’m not a local. I’m adopted, like you.”
Before Celeste could contradict and say she was absolutely nothing to the town, nor would she ever be, Maybe began walking backwards, still talking. “Make sure and stop by the store. Elena can design your house, she’s chomping at the bit.”
And then she was gone, leaving Celeste by herself in stunned dismay. “Who is Elena?” she muttered.
“Tony’s wife,” someone in the next stack answered, though she had clearly been talking to herself.
Following Maybe’s lead, she backstepped out of the library and bumped into a man, a cowboy, she realized when she spun to face him.
He lifted his hat and spoke politely, giving her the look. He wasn’t bad to gaze at, and he was definitely large and well muscled. But then he spoke. “Ma’am.” Celeste stared at his teeth. The four in front were blackened by tobacco juice stains. She took a step back.
He scowled and slammed his hat on his head. “Think I’ll be having a word with Maybe Montgomery,” he muttered and stormed off.
Celeste backed all the way to her truck, locking the door once she was safely inside.