Drafted In Deciet Dutch – Simone Stier

Meredith asked, looking between us. “Nothing,” I said brightly. “I’m just happy for you. Tell us more about dinner. Did you get dessert? Key lime pie? Chocolate something?” Gracie Jean watched me like I was a small animal trying to distract a predator. Meredith folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head with a muffled laugh. Then she slipped her hands into the hoodie’s pockets—and paused. She fished around inside and pulled out a crumpled sticky note.

She smoothed it out on the counter absentmindedly, eyes scanning the scribble. Then she frowned. “What’s that?” I asked. Meredith held the note up between two fingers. Scrawled in messy handwriting: Call Michelle A. My throat went dry. Gracie Jean coughed. Meredith’s brow furrowed. “Huh. Weird.” “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said, glancing at Gracie Jean. “Probably an employee thing. Could be anyone.” Meredith stared at it. Then she forced a laugh—a little too light.

“You’re right. Michelle could be anyone. An employee. A vendor. An aunt.” “Exactly,” I said. Meredith crumpled the sticky note and shoved it back into the pocket. Gracie Jean opened her mouth—about to say something deeply unhelpful, I was sure—but Meredith straightened up and grabbed her keys.

“I should head out. Another delivery.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “We’re not done talking, Lib.” “Love you,” I called after her. She waved without turning around, the bell chiming as she pushed through the door. The moment she was out of sight, I exhaled. “I feel terrible keeping my suspicions about Jim from her. But I want to be sure before I blow up her happiness.” “You should just tell her,” Gracie Jean said. “I will. Eventually. Do you think that sticky note was about Michelle Ahern?

Too much of a coincidence not to be, right?” Gracie Jean’s gaze drifted toward the windows. “Could be.” “But why?” “The question is, is he dancing with her? Or dancing with her?”

This book may not be reproduced without the written consent of the publisher. Except for review quotes. This is a work of fiction. All people, places, names, and events are products of the author’s imagination or a mysterious coincidence. Cover art by Mariah Sinclair OceanofPDF.com DEDICATION To amateur sleuths everywhere … OceanofPDF.com F CHAPTER 1 riday afternoons at Page’s Bookshop reminded me of the last chapter of a good novel. The big scenes were over, the loose ends tied, and all that was left was a quiet, satisfied exhale after a week of shelving books and pouring cups of coffee and tea for anyone who needed a cozy place to read.

Outside, early spring sunlight glinted off the Cape Fear River. From the shop’s front windows, the view was bright and clear, the kind of day where the air still had a bite, and people kept their jackets close by just in case. Inside, everything felt calm and settled. Cali, the calico kitten who’d wandered into my life right around the time I returned to Southport, was curled in a patch of sunlight on the window seat.

I smiled as I passed, straightening a display of new paperbacks. Not long ago, I’d been a frazzled editor at a Big Five publisher in New York. After my husband died unexpectedly, I changed everything. I came home to Southport to open a bookshop, and somehow this adorable cat strolled in as if she’d always belonged. I’d offered her food and shelter. In return, she’d offered me companionship. It felt like a fair trade. Two women occupied the pair of worn leather armchairs by the mystery shelves, each with a latte and a paperback.

“She knows she owns the place, doesn’t she?” one of the armchair readers said, nudging her friend and nodding toward the window seat. “Obviously,” the friend replied. I shifted one of the newest hardcovers to face outward so the gorgeous dust jacket could be seen by everyone. A ridiculous swell of pride rose in my chest as I took in the shop.

The old Victorian had been one of the historic homes in Southport that needed some serious love. Now it held shelves of books, a cafe in the back and my apartment upstairs. Getting the permits approved and dealing with the historical foundation had been a labyrinth of forms and phone calls, not the easiest thing to navigate from my office in New York City, but we’d landed the happy ending.

Page’s Bookshop & Cafe had become exactly what I’d hoped for, a place for stories and community.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: ff33cc7132c0ee6e
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 3,333,222 bytes (3.179 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 196
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 285.14 minutes
• Total Words: 57,028
• Total Characters: 330,636
• Average Words per Page: 290.96
• Average Characters per Page: 1686.92

Most Frequent Words

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