Free Poisoned Pin: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 2) by Laney Monday Page A

Harvey. Until I was sure he was as safe as a sort of nutty old guy can be.

13

    The next day I took a little jog around the neighborhood. I left Blythe to keep an eye on things, just in case anyone else came by to sign up for judo. Not only did I need the exercise, I needed to check up on some things. Harvey, for one. But I’d called him as soon as I left the dojo, and he’d said he was going to be out for a while this morning. To come by later. I was curious where he was out to, but Harvey didn’t elaborate, and I figured it was good for him to get out and about.
    I’d done some more digging around online last night, looking into Bonney Bay’s historical buildings and the stories behind them—especially the ghost stories. But online articles were nothing compared to talking to real people. Real Bonney Bay-ans. Or, Bonney Bay-ites. Whatever. The people who’d lived here for a long time. What I really needed to get a handle on was how big of an issue this haunted stuff was. Who really benefitted from it, if anyone? Had anyone been caught faking ghostly activities before? Did anyone besides Harvey claim to have experienced hauntings themselves? What were their stories?
    And so, after a forty-five minute jog, I opened the wood-framed glass doors of the Shaw Drug and Hardware Store, whose old-fashioned window sign boasted about its “World famous sundaes and banana splits,” in search of a treat, with a cherry and some ghost stories on top. Shaw’s had more than its share of ghost stories, as I’d discovered online, and I wondered if I could find a connection between them and the stories of Reiner House.
    Inside, there was a pleasant, low hum of activity. What looked like a fifty-fifty split of locals and tourists sat at newer-looking oak tables with rounded, armed chairs. The wood paneled ceiling and walls were painted a thick, satiny white. A white arch stretched from one wall to the next, a couple of feet from the ceiling. I wondered if the room had once been divided, or if it was just there for support. An old, potbellied stove stood off to one side, its black chimney stretching up to the high ceiling. Did they still use it during the winter months?
    Along the wall on my left, tall antique cabinets with glass doors held more antiques. Pictures of old Bonney Bay adorned the walls, along with an ancient, wall mounted telephone. The counters were finished in a beautiful, polished dark look, topped with a huge antique cash register. A young man in a sharp white button-up shirt and red bow tie mixed sodas behind the counter, working old fashioned fountain equipment that appeared, to my untrained eye, like it could be original. Behind him, gorgeous wood shelves and mirrors covered the wall. Unsure whether to seat myself, wait to be seated, or order at the counter, I walked up to him.
    “Hello!” he greeted me cheerfully, without turning around. “Be with you in a jiff!”
    When he turned around, he said, “Brenna Battle, the Olympian,” right away. “Out for a run?”
    I smiled and tried to make it look friendly instead of tight. I really wished I could just be Brenna. Especially since my Olympian status had failed to result in a medal. “Done with my run. And I thought it would be nice to get out and get to know Bonney Bay and its history a little better,” I said.
    He offered me his hand. “I’m Paul. Well, you’re definitely in the right place. This used to be the general store, the post office, the everything. If you look around back there, you’ll see the original post office boxes.” He gestured at the far end of the long room. I made out some shorter cabinets back there. From a distance, they reminded me of old library card catalogs.  
    “I did some reading about Bonney Bay online. I think I remember something about this place being haunted?”
    Paul grinned. His light brown curls were thinning a little prematurely on top, but his slightly plump face was baby-smooth, making it hard to guess his age.