Free A Novel Death: a Danger Cove Bookshop Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 10) by Elizabeth Ashby, Ellie Ashe

crowds thinned in the store, I tried to keep an eye on the people walking by on the sidewalk, but I didn't see the man in the Mariners cap. By midafternoon, I was starving, and when Burt returned from his lunch break, I bolted across the street to the bakery to get a snack. When I returned, Alicia and Katya were at the counter. Katya was scheduled to work with me in the evening, but Alicia should have been at soccer practice.
    "I know. I know," Alicia said, holding up a hand to stop my protest. "I'm not supposed to be here today. But I ran into Katya on campus, and we got to talking about that reporter, and I kept thinking I'd seen him somewhere before, and she had a great idea."
    "I had that same feeling," I said. "And it turns out he gave me a fake name. He's not Seth Giles."
    Alicia frowned and then turned the tablet toward me so I could see what she and Katya were looking at.
    "Katya pulled up all the pictures she could find online of the book signing, and look here. That reporter, or whoever he is, shows up in two photos."
    Katya leaned in. "You can zoom in and see who he's talking to," she said.
    The first photo she showed me was from the Cove Chronicles online, Danger Cove's newspaper's site. It was taken on the stairs that lead up to the bargain books, and showed a packed house. And there, by the front door, was the fake Seth Giles.
    "Who is he talking with?" Alicia asked.
    I recognized the bright-purple coat immediately. "That's Karen Dale, Cal's publicist."
    "I saw her at the B and B this morning," Katya said.
    Alicia and I looked at our teenage coworker. "Why were you at the B and B?" I asked.
    "My sister works there as a housekeeper. I dropped her off for work before school," she said. "This lady was outside smoking a cigarette. I recognized the jacket."
    "I need to talk to her," I said. If she knew the man, she might know why he was skulking around the bookstore.
    Burt walked out of the break room wearing his khaki-colored windbreaker, his historical tome tucked under his arm.
    "See you on Friday afternoon, ladies," he said.
    "Bye, Burt," I said. I couldn't very well ask him to work late just so I could go be nosy.
    Alicia tilted her head. "I have an hour until I need to pick up Maggie at the soccer field. I could just hang out here in case Katya needs help."
    I hesitated only a moment. "I'll call the B and B first, to make sure she's there."
    With a tap on the screen, Katya brought up the inn's website, and I called from the bookstore's phone. Karen Dale was still a guest, but she wasn't in, so I left a message and hoped that she'd call me back before she left town.
    "Why do you suppose she's still here?" I asked out loud.
    "Maybe she's waiting for the funeral," Katya said. "I heard at the school that he's going to be buried here."
    "Really?" I asked, remembering Cal's words about visiting Danger Cove. I'd received the distinct impression that he hadn't planned on staying here long—and definitely not staying eternally. "When is the funeral?"
    "In a couple of days, I think," Katya said.
    Alicia gathered her things slowly, looking like she'd rather hang out with Katya and me and talk about Cal's murder than go back to the soccer field and watch her daughter's practice.
    "I suppose we should go to the funeral," I said. "To pay our respects, I mean."
    They both nodded. "Yes, of course," Alicia said. "And maybe send flowers."
    I made a note in the planning app in my phone to call the funeral home to get the details and to order flowers.
    "If anything exciting happens, you make sure to call me," Alicia said, finally dragging herself out of the bookstore. "I'll just be sitting on the sidelines, reading Cal's book."
    Katya and I reorganized the magazines, and then I finished with the bookkeeping chores. There was far more to running a bookstore than I had known. I'd assumed that there would be a certain amount of paperwork, as there is with any business, but for some reason because it involved books, it seemed more