Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
CHARLIE
I accidentally brought Anne Livingston to book club, and the women of Cold Nights, Warm Books might never be the same.
By the time the Old Birds show up, the mayhem is still going strong. People have even moved their chairs closer like they’re afraid Alice might make a run for it. The Old Birds can tell right away something’s up. They just aren’t sure how—or why—it’s happening.
“What did we miss, kid?” Edna Finch asks as she slips into her usual seat beside me. Her two best friends, Henrietta and Dottie, snag the empty chairs on her other side, the three of them all ears.
I shrug and make them wait. Because being on time is a virtue. At least that’s what Edna says whenever I’m running late.
She swats me with her newspaper, but her short, steel-gray hair doesn’t budge. It wouldn’t dare. “Spill it, Roscoe.”
So I do. As much as I enjoy drawing this out, I can’t say no to the leader of the Old Birds. No one can.
Don’t ask me how Ponderosa Falls ended up with its very own old-lady gang. That story is above my pay grade and before my time. They’ve been running this place since before I was born, and I have no idea how it got this way. I’m just glad they sit with me at book club.
I angle myself toward them, and the birds lean in to meet me halfway. “I accidentally brought the author of our May pick to book club.” I tap Edna’s copy of The Duke’s Winter Wish . “And everyone lost their minds. Now they’re torturing her with personal questions.”
I feel so bad for Alice. Delilah Web from the general store asked what brought her to town a few minutes ago, and that poor girl is telling the truth. About her canceled anniversary trip and getting stranded at the bus station, her boyfriend and their breakup at the wilderness resort. None of that is anyone’s business, but Alice is so frazzled, I don’t think she knows what else to say.
We need to work on that girl’s lying skills. For her own good.
A situation like this shouldn’t have even needed a lie. Vague pleasantries would’ve worked fine, like the kind my mom doled out after she left my dad. Alice should have just served them something boring but polite. I came to visit friends, or I’ve always wanted to see Colorado . Not the whole messy truth.
She even tells us stuff I didn’t already know about her breakup. Like how it was her boyfriend’s idea for her to visit, and he helped Alice plan her trip last month. How everything was fine yesterday morning, but then she saw the text telling her not to show up. When she asked why he blamed that cancellation on work—why he didn’t just break up with her if he was already seeing someone new—that man didn’t have an answer.
Which doesn’t help me hate him any less.
“Poor thing,” Edna mutters, watching Alice bare her soul to strangers. “She’s like a lamb to the slaughter.”
Before we can figure out how to stop the bleeding, one of the other book club women goes in for the kill. “Forget her travel plans. When is she going to release another book?”
It’s a low blow. Alice’s voice falters, and she doesn’t answer right away. As if talking about her ex doesn’t bother her half as much as talking about her next book.
I was afraid something like this would happen. The real problem with having Anne Livingston here is that she’s been a hot topic at book club for months. She’s a crowd favorite around here, but she went dark last winter. She posted an Instagram story on Christmas Eve saying she had a personal matter she needed to deal with. Then she ducked away from social media, stopped answering her emails, and she hasn’t released a book since.
Now we have her cornered at The BookSlinger, surrounded by superfans who want answers. Comments like we’ve been waiting for months and I thought you were almost finished ring out around us. Alice looks like she wants to crawl under the carpet and hide. If she had a spoon, she’d probably tunnel her way to safety.
Edna eyes the group. “I don’t think hounding her is going to help. Maybe cut her some slack if you like her books so much.”
That quiets our angry mob, and this is why I love Edna Finch—crowd control. Then she betrays me, and I love her a little less.
Alice starts it. I don’t know why she chooses this exact moment to finally dig into her Gold Rush cupcake. It’s probably so she won’t have to answer any more questions, but I’m just glad it’s happening. I’ve been waiting for this moment all night.
Ponderosa Falls is known for these cupcakes. Out-of-towners even travel here in the winter to get their hands on some, at the exact time of year when no one should be driving on our snowy mountain roads. But they’d risk it all. For cupcakes.
It’s worth it, though, and Alice agrees. Her eyes widen with delight when she reaches the gold-colored filling in the center, and I can practically see her trying to figure out what that flavor is. Nobody knows for sure. Those cupcakes are Bernice Clark’s prized secret recipe, and she’s taking that secret to her grave. Even her husband doesn’t know what’s in them.
If I had to describe the flavor, it’s a perfect mix of tart and sweet, light but rich. Carl and I are convinced there might be some apricot jam in there somewhere. Or maybe a hint of butterscotch. Or honey.
Alice takes another bite, and her eyes drift halfway shut, her eyelashes fluttering above her freckled cheeks. When she comes to her senses, she gives me the purest thank-you smile I’ve ever seen, like I made those cupcakes myself, and I can’t help smiling back. She has a long smear of frosting on her cheek, curving across a constellation of freckles, and I wipe it away with my thumb.
Friends don’t let friends wear frosting.
Our eyes meet, but then it’s my turn to come to my senses. Dropping my hand from her cheek, I glance away. I can feel Edna watching me. When I check, all the Old Birds are.
“I’ve had a lot of family stuff going on,” Alice admits to the group. “My sister and her husband split up last year. I drove to Nashville to pick her up on Christmas Eve, and she’s still living with me. It’s been hard to concentrate.”
I get the feeling there’s more to it. Back at the wilderness resort, when Tiffany said she was sorry about Alice’s sister, I didn’t get the impression she was talking about a divorce. It sounded more serious than that.
Alice presses her lips together before saying more. Like she’s a little embarrassed to admit this next part. “When I came out here to visit my ex, I was kind of hoping I’d be able to get some writing done too.”
She says that like she was considering harvesting kidneys while she was in town. As if “getting some writing done” is a felony. And Mrs. Web sure makes it sound like one.
“You were going to write? On your anniversary trip?”
Alice blushes. “When we planned my visit, my ex said he might still have to work while I was in town. I figured I could write while he was gone. I was going to pretend I was on a writing retreat.”
“He wasn’t going to take off work for your anniversary?”
We’re really going to need a muzzle for Delilah Web. Or maybe we should toss her another Gold Rush cupcake to keep her quiet. Because her last comment devastates Alice. As if being upset about Jason’s schedule had never occurred to her, but now she’s uncovered a brand-new betrayal to feel bad about.
I hate seeing her that upset, and I glance at Edna for help. For some more of her glorious crowd control. But she’s too busy whispering with her friends. My favorite feathered trio is up to something, and that’s never a good sign.
The fact that Edna won’t stop staring at me makes it worse. She keeps stealing glances in my direction, and even when she knows I’m onto her, she doesn’t stop. Edna and I are in the cozy mystery book club together too, and she morphs into an amateur sleuth before my eyes. Deducing her heart out.
Yet she’s not the first bird to strike. That’s what her minions are for.