Chapter 3 #3
Slipping on her jacket she headed out the door and, before long, found herself parking outside Bailey’s Convenience.
She’d only just stepped out of the car when the flashing lights of a police cruiser caught her attention.
It was parked across the street outside the pub.
Jackson stood outside, his body tense and his expression troubled as he spoke to one of the deputies.
The deputy would nod every now and then, scribbling something in his notepad.
Olivia watched for a moment as Jackson ran his hand through his dark hair and glanced in Olivia’s direction and lifted his chin in acknowledgment.
Olivia gave a weak smile and turned toward the store. Whatever was going on was none of her business—despite the prickle of unease— and she’d like to keep it that way.
A chirpy bell jingled as she stepped inside and grabbed a basket from the stack by the entrance.
She wandered the aisles and selected the items she needed before heading up to the counter.
A sturdy-looking woman stood with her back to Olivia, her nose pressed so firmly to the window that Olivia wouldn’t have been surprised to see a permanent indentation worn into the glass.
The woman’s eyes fixed upon the pub across the street, and she couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d been holding a pair of binoculars.
Olivia’s mouth twitched in amusement. Some things never changed, she thought, shaking her head silently. She’d spent so much time living in big, impersonal cities over the past ten years and enjoying the solitude and anonymity that she’d forgotten a small town’s thirst for gossip.
Sensing a customer, the woman shifted away from the window, her appraising gaze sweeping over Olivia. Olivia’s wry amusement instantly dissolved into something much more guarded as she recognized the face staring at her.
Mrs. Eustacia Bailey had aged considerably in the twenty years Olivia had been gone.
Thick layers of pressed powder had settled into the deep lines and grooves around her sharp eyes and bracketing her perpetual pout.
Her perfectly coiffed ash-blonde hair was streaked with gray, and her pantsuit was ruthlessly pressed.
“Terrible business.” Mrs. Bailey tutted, shaking her head.
Although it was muttered under her breath, the way her eyes bored into Olivia’s signified that she expected a response.
“What is?” Olivia replied after a moment since Mrs. Bailey seemed disinclined to ring up her purchases without her reluctant participation in the conversation.
“That bartender, the drifter… Adam.”
Olivia frowned. “What about him?”
“Disappeared last night.” Mrs. Bailey’s mouth puckered even tighter in disapproval.
“Drugs,” she declared with one raised brow.
“Drugs, I tell you. He seems the sort. Disappeared he has, no sign of him anywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he robbed the place blind on his way out the door.
I told Jackson he should’ve hired a local, not some drifter that wandered into town with nothing but a backpack. His kind never come to any good.”
“Now, dear, that’s not a very charitable thing to say,” a soft voice spoke behind Olivia, causing her to turn.
As she caught sight of a small round familiar looking man close by, stocking the shelves, a genuine smile graced Olivia’s lips.
Mr. Bailey was now almost completely bald and sporting a very obvious paunch, but he had kind eyes and a warm smile.
Despite his wife being a voracious gossip, Mr. Bailey had been calm and welcoming.
He’d always sneak her and Louisa candy whenever his wife wasn’t watching, whereas Mrs. Bailey would shoo them out of the store, accusing them of being grubby little heathens.
“I’m just saying,” Mrs. Bailey huffed as she packed Olivia’s items haphazardly into a paper bag.
“It’s not natural, a boy abandoning his family like that, moving from town to town, never staying in one place.
I bet he has a criminal record too. I told Chief Walcott six months ago when that boy blew into town that he was no good.
Now look what’s happened, robbing Jackson blind.
He was always too softhearted with strays.
” She sized Olivia up as if looking for any potential criminal predilections.
“Now, we don’t know that’s what happened, love,” Mr. Bailey answered. “For all we know, something’s happened to the poor boy, so let’s not go jumping to conclusions or making judgments.”
“You mark my words, Jonathan Bailey.” She wagged her finger at him before reaching out to take Olivia’s payment.
“That boy will come to no good. And I’ll tell you another thing.
If…” her voice trailed off as she caught the name printed on Olivia’s credit card, her eagle eyes lighting up in a slightly disturbing way. “West?” she exclaimed. “Olivia West?”
Olivia released a slow, resigned breath. “Hello, Mrs. Bailey.”
She’d known people would figure out who she was sooner or later, but she’d been foolishly hoping for the latter.
“What a surprise!” Mrs. Bailey crowed in delight. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you walked back into town and all grown up. Why, I hardly recognized you.”
She hadn’t recognized her at all, Olivia thought sourly. If only it could’ve stayed that way.
“I mean, being back in town, the memories must be so painful,” Mrs. Bailey continued.
“After all, what with you seeing what your father did to your poor mother and grandmother.” She leaned across the counter offering the card and receipt, but when Olivia reached for them, her grip remained firm as her gaze narrowed. “You did see it, didn’t you?”
Olivia chose not to answer. Instead, she gave a good tug on the card, forcing the older woman to let go. The woman didn’t pull any punches, Olivia would give her that.
“Murder is such an ugly business, and you being so young. All that blood and fire must have been so traumatic for you, poor lamb. I expect you needed professional help after that, what with your father being locked up for murder. It was probably too much for you to cope with. I suppose that’s why Evelyn didn’t take custody of you.
You were probably too much to deal with, poor thing, and what with her sister and niece being murdered and all… ”
Olivia wasn’t sure if her participation was required in the conversation as Mrs. Bailey seemed to be doing fine on her own. The woman was relentless. It was like being slowly battered to death with a crocheted baseball bat that smelled faintly of sweet-pea and lavender.
Once more, Olivia ignored the question, which she wasn’t sure she was expected to answer anyway. Mrs. Bailey seemed to be on a roll. She tucked her card back into her purse.
“For heaven’s sake, stop pecking at the poor girl.” Mr. Bailey rose from his crouched position, his knees cracking. “Dear little Olivia.” He smiled and drew her in for a hug.
It was so warm and unexpected and filled with sincerity that she didn’t pull away. Instead, she breathed in the scent of old spice and tobacco.
“I’m so pleased to see you.” He smiled as he released her. “I expect you’ve inherited the house from Evelyn?”
Olivia nodded, unable to find the words.
“I did wonder about that.” He patted her hand fondly. “I’m glad that you found your way back. It’s just not Mercy without a West at the lake house.”
“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes, well, thank you.” She slid the paper bag from the counter into her arms. “I should really get going.”
“One moment.” He held up his hand. “I have something for you.”
He popped out of sight for a moment, coming back with a cheerful-looking houseplant in a pretty blue and yellow pot.
“Here.” He smiled. “That’s the last one. They’ve been very popular, just the thing to cheer up a room. A little housewarming gift for you. Welcome home, Olivia.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, swallowing the little knot of sentiment caught at the back of her throat despite Mrs. Bailey’s dour expression.
With the little plant carefully in one arm, her bag of groceries in the other, she gave a small smile of farewell and headed back out into the cold.
She set the bag in the passenger seat and slid into her car and stared at the little pot plant that she still clutched in her hands.
It was a little lopsided, but she found herself genuinely touched by the gesture.
She was about to settle the plant in the seat alongside her groceries when her gaze snagged on a small object tucked into the pot.
It was Tootsie Roll Mr Bailey always used to give her, Louisa, and Jake one when they came to the store.
A sudden laugh bubbled in her chest and let loose, easing the tension in her gut and making her feel foolishly sentimental.
Her fingers tightened around the small candy, and with a smile tugging at her mouth, she started the engine.
Yeah, she thought to herself, being back in Mercy wasn’t all bad.