Chapter 14 #4
“Yes! I’m one of the interested parties.
” He clapped his hands on Amie’s shoulders, who resisted grimacing in response.
“Apologies for my intern. She’s still learning the ropes when it comes to conversing with other business owners.
” He gave Amie a little shake. “Gets a bit too optimistic that folks will want to drop everything to speak with her. But you and I know that a successful business owner doesn’t have free time for small talk. ”
Still looking dubious, Madeline said, “That’s right. And speaking of, I do have to get—”
“The thing is, Madeline—may I call you Madeline?”
“Sure.”
“Fantastic.” David dropped his hands from Amie’s shoulders, who stared at him, feeling both impressed and slightly unnerved by whatever character he’d slipped into.
A slight Southern drawl had begun leaking into his voice, and he was smiling so wide Amie was worried his face might crack in half.
Hoping his accent wouldn’t get any stronger, she tried her best to look like an intern, assuming that “impressed” and “slightly unnerved” were both appropriate emotions to display for the role.
“So, Madeline,” David continued, “I’ve been very interested in acquiring the bookshop next door to your lovely café. The thing is, I don’t want to waste my time and resources if it turns out you’ve already locked down a deal.”
He placed a hand on his chest. “So I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d save an old man some time and just give it to me straight: Are you acquiring the business?”
Madeline rubbed her hairline, looking around as she thought. “I bought the bookshop, yes.”
“You’ve already bought it?” Amie exclaimed, shocked. “How?”
“So sorry for my intern’s outburst,” David said, stepping to the side to put himself between Amie and Madeline. “She should be silently taking notes right now.”
“I sound more like an assistant than an intern,” Amie grumbled, taking out her phone and opening a new note.
“Absolutely not,” David said over his shoulder. “Then I’d have to pay you.”
He turned back to Madeline. “I was under the impression that the current owner was a bit reluctant to sell. So soon after his wife’s passing, especially.”
“He was,” Madeline said, grimacing a bit. “Or, he is. But Andrew didn’t sell the store to me. His wife did.”
“Savannah Harlow sold her store to you?” David chuckled. “I heard she was even more opposed to selling than her husband.”
“Slow down, cowboy,” Amie murmured as the drawl thickened.
Madeline looked around again, not seeming to notice David’s oscillating accent. The workers who she’d been directing to hang the banner had walked off to a van parked a few yards behind the booth.
“I’d appreciate it if you don’t share this wide,” she said, lowering her voice as she did so. “The news will come out soon, but I haven’t had the chance to speak with her husband yet, and—”
“He doesn’t know?” Amie asked, standing on her toes to speak over David’s shoulder.
Madeline shook her head. “I’d been trying to get Savannah to sell to me for a while,” she explained. “She was never interested. But a few weeks ago, she reached out. She said she was done trying to keep the bookstore afloat, and asked if I still wanted to buy. I said yes, and we began discussions.
“When I heard she’d passed, I figured I’d lost the deal. I’d signed the paperwork on Friday and was waiting to hear back. Then, Tuesday afternoon, my lawyer told me she’d received the finished paperwork from Savannah’s lawyer.”
Shuddering, she said, “It felt like a message from beyond the grave. I was happy, of course, but I felt so terrible for her. And for Andrew, of course. Savannah had told me she wanted to surprise him with the finished paperwork. She’d asked me not to tell him about the deal until it was done, but she died so suddenly, I didn’t know if she’d gotten the chance to tell him. ”
Behind David’s back, Amie frowned. If Savannah signed the paperwork on Monday, she would have probably been planning on telling Andrew about the sale that evening. But according to Andrew, Savannah never made it home.
“He’d been wanting her to sell the store for a long time now,” Madeline continued. “I went over there on Wednesday to speak with Andrew and find out if she’d gotten the chance to tell him.”
“I saw you at the store that day,” Amie said, stepping around David. “He was very upset.”
Madeline winced. “When I asked the manager if he was around, she clearly assumed I wanted to speak to him about possibly buying the store. I didn’t correct her.
I wanted to make sure Andrew knew about the sale before anyone else.
I should have known that if Savannah hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him, he might make the same assumption about why I was there.
I don’t blame him for how he reacted. I probably would have acted the same if I thought someone was trying to buy my dead wife’s store so soon after her passing. ”
“So he still doesn’t know?” David asked.
Madeline shrugged. “I have no idea. I assumed Savannah’s lawyer would tell him, but I haven’t heard anything.
I thought it was best just to give him space for a few days, so I haven’t gone back to the store.
Contractually, the place doesn’t become mine until the start of next month, so he has a little time to tie things up before then.
And of course I’d be willing to give him some more time if he needs it. The guy’s in mourning, after all.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” David said, inclining his head in thanks. “And I appreciate you sharing this with us.”
“It’s fine.” Madeline picked up a clipboard and pen and went behind the table to the back of the tent. “You weren’t the first to ask about this, so I guess the rumor mill is doing its job. Andrew’s bound to find out one way or the other, if he hasn’t already heard by now.”
“Someone else talked to you about buying Shelf Starter?” Amie asked.
Madeline had opened one of the cardboard boxes. “Yeah. Oh, what was his name? It was that rich guy who’s always buying struggling businesses. He left his card with me; it’s somewhere on my desk, I think.”
“Jonathan Oakland?” Amie and David asked in unison.
“That’s the guy.” Madeline pointed her pen at them. “He came into the store Tuesday afternoon and asked to talk to me. Intense energy, a lot of eye contact. He wanted to know if I owned the bookstore yet.”
“Did he say where he’d heard that from?” Amie asked.
“He said Savannah told him.” Madeline opened another box.
“Apparently he knew she was going to sell to me, but just didn’t know if the sale had been finalized or not.
I told him I wasn’t sure—I wasn’t, at that point.
He tried to talk me into selling to him, but sort of lost steam once I told him I was planning on knocking down the wall and combining the businesses.
Guess he knew he probably wasn’t going to convince me.
Just said something about businesses failing when they expand too fast, then gave me his card in case I changed my mind. ”
“You’re not considering his offer, I take it?” David asked.
Madeline laughed. “No. I’m good. I do have to take inventory, though, so …” She returned to the boxes and began counting their contents.
“Thanks for your time,” Amie called as she and David walked away. Once they were out of earshot, she asked, “What was that?”
“Huge surprise,” David agreed.
“I was talking about your Oscar-worthy performance as ‘Man Who Mistreats His Intern.’ ”
“Oh.” David rubbed his chin sheepishly. “Thought I could channel Detective Richards.”
“Who?”
“Protagonist from my books.” Frowning at her, he added, “I thought you were going to read them.”
Amie threw her hands into the air. “I’ve been a little busy! And I thought you didn’t want me to read them.”
“I mean,” David huffed, “if you’re going to, I’d rather you get it over with.”
“Well, Detective Richards definitely knows how to get information from people.” They stopped under a tree that was removed from the hustle and bustle of festival setup. “If Savannah sold the bookstore to Madeline, that means Madeline didn’t have a motive to kill her.”
David leaned against the tree. “Do you think Madeline was correct in assuming that Andrew didn’t know about the sale?”
“I think so.” Amie cast her mind back to her late-night visit to the Harlow residence as a memory fought its way to the front.
“When I talked to Andrew the night after the memorial, he said something about not checking his phone because he was feeling overwhelmed. He might have missed a call from a lawyer telling him about the sale.”
“Or,” David suggested, “he might know by now and just be too embarrassed about his outburst to reach out to Madeline.”
“Sure. Or he doesn’t want to be reminded of how his wife was planning on surprising him with the sale and then died before she could tell him.
” Amie looked up at the leaves of the tree, thinking.
“So Savannah told Jonathan Oakland that she was going to sell to Madeline. Oakland still wants to buy the store. Could he have killed Savannah hoping to stop the sale, not knowing that she’d already signed the paperwork? ”
“Possibly.” David checked his watch. “I’m done for the day, though. I’m meeting a guy in thirty minutes who’s selling me a box of old windup toys.”
“Okay. I’ll try to figure out what to do next.” They began walking out of the park. “You should probably keep a low profile anyway, just in case.”
“Why?”
“Did you consider that you just told Madeline that you’re interested in buying Savannah’s store?” Amie asked. “Which gives you a motive to have killed her?”
David’s eyes narrowed as he rolled her words over in his mind. “No, I did not consider that. That is, Detective Richards didn’t consider that. So I can’t be blamed here.”
“Well”—Amie sighed—“now we really need to figure out who killed her, before your bad Southern accent gets you back on the police’s radar.”
David rubbed a hand over his eyes, nodding in silent agreement. Then: “Hang on. Was I doing a Southern accent?”