Live and Let Chai by Bree Baker

Author:Bree Baker [Baker, Bree]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2018-07-10T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I pedaled back down Bay View to Middletown Street, avoiding eye contact with shoppers and pedestrians on retail-heavy streets and focusing instead on getting home before the storm hit.

I hopped off at the boardwalk and checked on Amelia’s Little Library. No added sand. Either Amelia had cleaned it up on her way home from my place earlier or the hooligan had taken a day off. Maybe the sand bandit had even gone to Mr. Paine’s funeral and opted to stay for the obligatory meal served in Boardman’s adjacent reception hall.

My tummy groaned at the thought of food.

I borrowed a tattered hardcover copy of Body Language: Unspoken Cues to Know If He Loves You before I shut the library door. I didn’t care if he loved me, but I thought the book might help me figure out when I was being lied to. Probably a good skill to have while interviewing potential killers. I tossed the book into my derelict basket and made plans to fix the filthy vinyl after a bite to eat and a refreshing shower.

I wasn’t sure there was enough soap and hot water to wash the ick off from my day. Being threatened in sunscreen had gotten under my skin, and I’d felt watched every moment since. The paranoia was thick around me as I walked my bike along the familiar wooden planks. Someone had followed me to Duck. How could anyone have known I was there unless I was being watched or eavesdropped on when we’d made plans last night? Who could do that without me noticing?

Sam Smart had pointed me in Lucinda’s direction, but he couldn’t have known when or if I’d visit her—could he? I needed to talk with Sam again. I’d like to know why he hadn’t told me about Mr. Metz’s feud with Mr. Paine. As the town’s most popular real estate agent, Sam must’ve known about it. The memory of Mr. Metz’s red face sent ice into my gut. He was scary, angry, and a bully.

Thunder grumbled in the distance. The rain wasn’t far away.

I climbed back onto my bike and pedaled, trying to outrun my problems and the rolling storm clouds at my back. The daylight seemed to dim, then vanish ahead of me, vacuumed away by the brewing storm.

I squinted from the low throb beginning in my head. I couldn’t remember eating anything after the honey toast I’d had for breakfast. After my shower, I was absolutely raiding the fridge—a perfect yellow-and-white frosted lemon cake came to mind.

My fitness band made a strange trumpet sound, and I nearly ran my bike into the sand.

“Good grief!” I struggled to control the handlebars as I released my grip with one hand, determined to push the little rubber button and see what the problem was now.

YOU’VE TAKEN MORE THAN 8,000 STEPS TODAY!

Well, what do you know? No sand in the Little Library. My digital trainer was happy. Maybe my day was finally taking a positive turn.

The Sun, Sand, and Tea sign came into view as the first fat drops of rain burst around me.

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