Counterfeit Crystals: Mysteries of Meri by Sara Bourgeois

Author:Sara Bourgeois [Bourgeois, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

I stood at the kitchen window, taking in the gray light of morning as it seeped through the clouds. The autumn sun had yet to show its face… if it even planned to… leaving the world in a soft haze of half-light. After last night’s fitful sleep, I needed coffee more than I needed oxygen, and I hadn’t felt that way in a while. My mind was still tangled with everything I’d discovered on the USB drive and all the questions that came with it: Kate Walsh, Valerie Winters, the shady finances. On top of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about James Chen at Pearl Garden, and all the people in Coventry who stood to lose everything if the mall project marched on at full throttle.

“Meri?” I called, turning away from the window. “I’m heading to Brew Station. Want me to bring anything back?”

My only companion in this clandestine life did not appear immediately, so I padded through the house to find him. Sure enough, he was in the living room window, perched on the sill with his tail flicking at something only he could see. The house felt still, as though it, too, was bracing for a day that threatened to bring new challenges.

He glanced back at me. “Another coffee run? You know we have beans right here, plus all your fancy gear for pour-overs.”

I gathered my purse and keys, forcing a shrug I only half-felt. “Yes, but sometimes you need a change of scenery. Besides,” I said, lips twisting, “I need to see if there’s any new town gossip. And maybe I just want an excuse to get out. This place feels claustrophobic sometimes. I miss Hangman’s House. Not that I regret letting Kinsley and her family live there.”

Meri’s whiskers twitched as he hopped down from the sill. “Fine. Just bring me a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit if they still have those. The last time it was decent enough.”

I gave him a half-smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then I patted his head—he allowed it, surprisingly—and headed out the front door into the brisk morning air.

The Tesla glided through Coventry’s tree-lined streets, the heavy sky casting everything in muted browns and greens. A swirl of leaves scattered across the hood as I turned onto Main Street. The funeral had been just two days ago, and it felt like the entire town was in a state of uneasy suspense, waiting for the next domino to drop in the wake of Rebecca Porter’s murder.

I couldn’t shake the gnawing concern for James Chen and Pearl Garden—and for the other small businesses that might be forced to relocate or close. Not to mention what might happen if the wrongdoing I found on the USB drive came to light. If half the big players in town were involved, we were talking about more than just one or two crooked deals; it might be the biggest scandal Coventry had ever seen.

I parked in front of Brew Station, the local coffee shop that refused to be overshadowed by chain competitors.

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