Death of a Blueberry Tart by Lee Hollis

Author:Lee Hollis [Hollis, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

The Shop ’n Save was nearly empty when Hayley showed up the next morning, promptly at seven when the doors opened. Usually around this time she was slamming the palm of her hand down on her clock on top of the nightstand next to her bed to stop the annoying, piercing alarm trying to rouse her from underneath her plush white goose-down comforter and force her to drag her lazy butt into the shower. But not today. Today she was on a mission and had showered well before six in order to be at the grocery store at the same time as Owen Meyers. It was no secret in town that Owen was up early every morning to shop for the ingredients he needed when he opened The Shack promptly at eleven for the lunch crowd. Depending on what special he scribbled on the chalkboard he set up outside the front door to lure in the locals and tourists, Owen was laser-focused on every last detail, whether it was dried thyme for his lentil soup or fresh celery for his lobster rolls. Whatever it was he needed to pick up at the Shop ’n Save, like the fire department blowing the noon whistle, you could always count on seeing Owen rolling his cart up and down the aisles just after the break of dawn, like clockwork, at the start of each day.

Hayley had only managed to down her first cup of coffee as she shot out the door in order to get to the store by the time they unlocked the doors, so her brain was still a bit fuzzy. She grabbed a cart and paraded up and down the aisles in search of Owen. She knew she was acting suspicious, mostly due to the fact that none of the Shop ’n Save employees had ever laid eyes on her in the store before eleven. A couple of stock boys gave her surprised looks as she raced past them and mumbled, “Good morning.”

Rounding the corner into aisle six, which housed baking needs like flour, sugar, and chocolate, Hayley came to a screeching halt at the sight of Owen at the spice section, perusing two different brands of Cajun seasoning, debating with himself on which one he should buy. Hayley stood frozen in the middle of the aisle, waiting to be noticed. Finally, when it became clear to Owen he wasn’t alone, he glanced up and scowled at the sight of Hayley.

“Good morning, Owen,” Hayley chirped, a big smile on her face.

Owen dropped one of the seasonings in his cart and threw the other back on the shelf, did an about-face, and hurriedly pushed his cart in the opposite direction. Hayley chased after him as he disappeared around the corner and down the cereal aisle.

“Owen! Owen!” Hayley shouted, to no avail. He had no intention of stopping to talk to her.

This was ridiculous. She couldn’t just follow him up and down every aisle like their grocery carts were in the Indy 500, but it was becoming quite clear Owen was determined to remain elusive.

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