Page 22 of Killer on the First Page
Tanvir, panic-stricken, tried to throw desperate hints Harpreet’s way, but his wife either missed them or chose to ignore his wide-eyed look.
“It is a deal!” she said, and they shook hands on it, to Tanvir’s dismay.
Chapter Six
The Cutthroats of Tillamook Bay
The local supporters of the festival arrived first, ahead of the authors. Happy Rock’s stammering attorney Atticus Lawson, with his crippling fear of public speaking, was there, as was Doc Meadows, the imaginatively nicknamed town doctor.
Unreasonably tall and impossibly handsome, Doc was wearing a dress shirt with a vest embroidered in an intricate Salish n?ty?tyix salmon pattern. His hair was beautifully braided. The men were so neatly turned out, thought Miranda. Tanvir in hisdastarand Doc in his braids. Even Atticus had made an effort, his usual clip-on necktie having been replaced with a knotted polka-dot bow tie. But Edgar? Same ol’ flannel and jeans. He wasn’t even wearing his good hiking boots, she noted.
She smiled. “Hello, Doc.”
“Hey there, Miranda. Lookin’ good.”
A little part of her heart always melted when Doc smiled at her. An ever-so-slightly sardonic twinkle, gentle and teasing, it was everything you could want in a smile.If only he wasn’t married...
She caught herself. She was also married.
But was she, though?
“Psst, Miranda? Is Captain Fantastic around?”
It was Officer Holly Hinton, the second half of Happy Rock’s finest. She was on duty and in uniform, and was looking around furtively, trying her best to avoid her boss (aka Ned).
“I’m on call at the station, but thought I’d slip out. Has she arrived yet?”
“Who?”
“Who else, Einstein? Wanda Stobol, that’s who. The greatest author who ever lived. The woman who created Compendium Cathy. She’s the reason I became a police officer. Because of her, I thought solving crimes would involve knowing the median buoyancy of coconuts and the relative position of constellations in the southern hemisphere vs. the northern, instead of, y’know, writing traffic tickets and investigating missing bits of rope from behind Owen’s garage.”
Although she was roughly the same height as Miranda (which is to say, short), Officer Holly seemed much taller, much bigger, more daunting. Hair pulled back, she was a robust presence in her police blues and duty belt: handcuffs and holster, sidearm and taser. She was carrying a canvas bag filled with... books?
“Okay, Big Eyes,” said Officer Holly when she caught Miranda trying to take a peek. “You got me.” Officer Holly pulled out a stack of well-thumbed, well-read, and much loved children’s books from her youth. The titles were punctuated with exclamation points:Compendium Cathy: Girl Detective! Compendium Cathy Solves the Case! Compendium Cathy to the Rescue! Compendium Cathy Discovers the Median Buoyancy of Coconuts!Each cover featured an illustration of the plucky, befreckled nine-year-old sleuth. Officer Holly had twins—ankle biters that were the terror of Happy Rock—whom she’d named George and Nancy after the leads in the Nancy Drew series. If they’d been triplets, the next name in line was Cathy.
“How are the kids?” Miranda asked.
“Grandma Moses is watching them,” Holly said, meaning her mom, who was neither an artist nor named Moses, but was a grandma, so that was enough in Holly’s mind to justify the nickname. “She’s the one who bought me these books when I was little, so she’s at least partly to blame.” Officer Holly looked past Miranda to the front hall. “Ms. Stobol hasn’t arrived yet? I thought maybe she could sign these for my kids. When they get older, I figured I’d—Dammit!” She ducked down, but it was too late.
“Officer Holly? What are you doing here?” It was Chief Buckley (aka Captain Fantastic). Wide of girth, warm of eyes, stern of face. “You’re supposed to be on duty.”
“I am, sir. Securing the perimeter, sir.”
“Perimetermeans ‘outer edge.’ You’re inside.”
“Yes, sir. I’m securing itfromthe inside.”
He frowned. “You’re supposed to be at the station.”
She dropped any pretense of deferring. “Relax, Ned. I hung aBack in Five Minutessign. I won’t stay long, I promise. Toss that coin of yours if you like, see if I can stay.”
Andrew, passing by with a laden tray, overheard this. “The coin? You mean the quarter, right? The one you always carry with you?”
“I’m not tossing a coin, Holly. You can stay, for now, but keep your radio on. Okay?”
“Aye, aye, Captain Ahab.”
But before Ned could move on, Andrew cut in, asking way too eagerly, “Can you tell me about it? The story behind your quarter?”
