Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
H ead spinning, Luke left The Rising Moon and walked the short distance back to the bookshop. He wanted to check the ledger from the stockroom and see if he could find the name Nicholas – or Elin – Jones.
He had barely started looking when he heard the shop bell. He put down the ledger and went to greet the visitor, closing the stockroom door behind him.
Kate Foster was browsing the shelves at the front of the shop.
He managed a normal-sounding ‘hello’. Seeing her in person reinforced the fact that she was the woman from the news article. He was in no doubt that she was the woman from the picture, that he hadn’t been mistaken. Which meant that the woman calling herself Kate Foster had been married to Nicholas Jones, erstwhile customer of the Shambles Book Emporium. The place that had sent at least two hexed books to other shops. Now, that bookshop had burned to the ground, and she was here, on the island, and was using a new name. He didn’t know what these facts meant. Perhaps she had wanted the freshest of fresh starts. Perhaps there were financial difficulties that had contributed to her husband’s suicide and she was running from them. The possibilities flickered through his mind, and he felt off-balance. One thing he was very sure of, though, was that he fervently hoped that this was a genuine visit to buy a book and not another attempt at asking him out. He manoeuvred behind the counter, wanting to put some furniture between them and to formalise their roles. Customer. Proprietor.
That was when he noticed her suitcase. It was the compact sort with wheels and looked expensive. She was carrying it by the retracted handle, the wheels off the ground. Either she was planning to buy a lot of books or she was on her way off the island. He hoped it was the latter. And the sooner the better.
‘We know each other, now,’ she began, flashing him a gleaming white smile, ‘don’t we?’
He nodded. He didn’t agree, but politeness dictated one possible response. And he was a shop proprietor. Part of the job was being polite to customers. Although, now that he thought about it, Alvis’s instruction book hadn’t said anything about that. Maybe he could use his own judgement.
‘I want to see the books.’
Luke gestured at the shop. ‘Help yourself. If there’s something in particular you’re looking for, let me know.’
‘No.’ Kate’s smile was slick with red lipstick. It made her mouth look like a warning sign. ‘The books that aren’t on display. The special books.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Luke forced himself not to look toward the stockroom door.
The smile disappeared. A second later, it was replaced with something altogether more sultry. She placed her forearms onto the counter and leaned forward, affording him a view of smooth tanned skin dipping below the neckline of her soft cream jumper. Her eyes were hooded and her voice dropped low. ‘I thought we were friends. Don’t you trust me?’
Luke realised that he couldn’t hear the shop humming anymore. He understood something else: he didn’t trust Kate Foster and the shop didn’t either.
A little pout. ‘I know they’re here. This isn’t an ordinary bookshop. It’s like the Shambles Emporium.’
He went still. ‘The place in York?’
She straightened up. ‘I used to shop there. With my husband.’
‘You’re married?’ Luke decided it wouldn’t be wise to let her know he already knew this, or that he had been investigating the hexed books.
She nodded. Not smiling or looking sultry. Suddenly, in fact, looking furious. ‘Forever.’
Several questions were jostling Luke’s mind, but his hindbrain was telling him not to get distracted. This woman had been married to a regular customer of the Shambles Bookshop. She might even have been the female assistant at the shop that Graham’s mother had mentioned. And if that guess was right, it meant she had ample opportunity to send hexed books from the Shambles. Which would make her… magic?
‘We do stock some more unusual titles,’ he said cautiously. ‘Rare books. Specialist subjects. It would help if you could let me know the area you are interested in.’
She smiled thinly. ‘Magical lore. Supernatural history. Practical spellcasting. Divination. Summoning.’
Floored, Luke struggled for an appropriate response. ‘I didn’t know you were… a scholar.’ He had been fishing, but he hadn’t expected her to say it outright. Her openness was new and it set alarm bells ringing. From his research, he knew that there were plenty of enthusiasts interested in the arcane and occult, but where, exactly, did the line blur between academics and those who took a more practical interest?
‘It’s not something I advertise,’ Kate continued. ‘But I would very much like to see your collection.’
Luke led Kate to the back of the shop, to the esoteric section. It wasn’t always in the same place and sometimes didn’t seem to be there at all. He wasn’t all that surprised to find that the shop was playing hide and seek again.
‘It’s usually here,’ he said, waving at the bookshelves that lined the back wall. ‘Between cookery and psychology, but we don’t seem to have anything in stock at the moment. Was there something in particular you were looking for?’
When he turned to speak, he found Kate uncomfortably close. He took a step back and felt the bookshelves against his back.
‘I’m sure you can find some books for me to look at,’ Kate said. ‘Maybe you haven’t got all your stock on display. It would make sense to keep some things away from the general public. I’m happy to wait while you fetch them.’
Wanting nothing more than an excuse to get further away from the woman, Luke nodded. ‘I’ll look in the stockroom. Give me a minute.’
‘Sure.’ She turned her attention to the cookery section and he made his way to the front of the shop. He would use the landline while she was distracted at the back of the shop. Hammer would be the obvious choice, he was the island’s enforcer and muscle. Instead, he called Esme. Her phone rang and rang. No answer.