Ink and Shadows: A Witty & Page-Turning Southern Cozy Mystery

Book 4: Secret, Book, and Scone Society Novel

by Ellery Adams

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Cozy Mystery; Mystery

Synopsis

“Entertaining...packed with mystery, romance, and sisterhood.”
—Kirkus Reviews
 
New York Times bestselling author Ellery Adams is back with the latest in her acclaimed Secret, Book, and Scone Society series. Local bookstore owner Nora Pennington is back on the case in Miracle Springs, North Carolina when an accidental death turns out to be something much more sinister...
 
Nora Pennington is known for her window displays, and as Halloween approaches, she decides to showcase fictional heroines like Roald Dahl's Matilda and Madeline Miller's Circe. A family-values group disapproves of the magical themes, though, and wastes no time launching a modern-day witch hunt. Suddenly, former friends and customers are targeting not only Nora and Miracle Books, but a new shopkeeper, Celeste, who's been selling CBD oil products.
 
Nora and her friends in the Secret, Book, and Scone Society are doing their best to put an end to the strife—but then someone puts an end to a life. Though the death is declared an accident, the ruling can't explain the old book page covered with strange symbols and disturbing drawings left under Nora's doormat, a postcard from an anonymous stalker, or multiple cases of vandalism.
 
The only hope is that Nora can be a heroine herself and lead the Secret, Book, and Scone Society in a successful investigation—before more bodies turn up and the secrets from Celeste's past come back to haunt them all . . .

 

Release date: January 26, 2021

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 306

Sample

Nora Pennington stood on the sidewalk, frowning.

Most people wouldn’t understand her reaction to the bookshop’s window display. The window was full of cute plush toys inspired by children’s book characters. With the help of parachutes made from autumn leaves, Curious George, Olivia, the Very Hungry Caterpillar, Babar the Elephant, Peter Rabbit, Pete the Cat, Paddington Bear, Clifford the Big Red Dog, Winnie-the-Pooh, Arthur, Frog and Toad, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Maisie, and the Pigeon floated in a bright blue sky. All the animals were aiming for the same landing zone: a giant book. The book glowed, illuminating the fur of the closest parachuters, and its open pages were covered with letters made of rainbow glitter.

At the top of the window, a biplane piloted by Stuart Little trailed a yellow banner with the words FALL INTO A GOOD BOOK!

That August, the window had drawn smiles from locals and visitors to Miracle Springs, North Carolina. Then, September came, but summer wouldn’t let go. It was as hot and humid on the first day of school as it had been on the Fourth of July. Plants wilted. People drooped. The whole town was sunbaked and dry. It was hard to believe that October was right around the corner.

Autumn’s refusal to kick summer to the curb had gotten under everyone’s skin, including Nora’s. She stood outside, shading her eyes from the sun’s glare, and tried to imagine a festive fall scene in her display window. But nothing was coming to her. It was too hot to think.

“Are you channeling the Grouchy Ladybug?” asked Sheldon Vega.

Nora’s friend and employee pointed at her ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE READING T-shirt, which happened to be red.

“I’m pensive,” she said. “More Harriet the Spy than grumpy insect.”

Stroking his silver goatee, Sheldon looked at the window. “This display let our customers hang on to that summer freedom vibe while also giving them hope that they’ll still have time to read in between soccer games, PTA meetings, back-to-school nights, and the zillions of fall festivals I saw listed in the paper. You people are festival addicts.”

Nora laughed. “I had the same reaction when I first moved here. When I saw the festival calendar, I thought it was some kind of a joke. Molasses, Railroad, Guinea, Folk, Irish, Scottish Games, Greek, Clay, Cherokee, Zombie, and Mountain Bike Festivals. I’m a big fan of all of them. You know why? They draw big crowds. And a portion of those crowds find their way to Miracle Springs. From now until New Year’s is our moneymaking season, and I’m hoping it’s a banner one. I’d like to put something away for a rainy day.”

Sheldon nodded. “My nest egg could definitely use a little more yellow in its yolk.”

“Then we need to pick up the pace, starting with this window. Our next display needs to be less cutesy and more compelling.”

“We raised the bar too high these past few months,” said Sheldon. “We became the Fifth Avenue department store at Christmastime—full of magic and wonder and sugarplums. This month, our sugarplums were a little flat.” He tugged at the ends of his peach and purple bowtie. “Happens to the best of us.”

Nora smiled. Sheldon had that effect on her. Though he’d been working at the bookshop for only five months, she didn’t know how she’d ever managed without him. He had a profound love of reading, an excellent eye for design, and he made the world’s best coffee.

Sheldon Vega had inherited his love of reading and his ability to put people at ease from his Jewish mother. His self-assurance and passion for good food came from his Cuban father. Sheldon was in his sixties and looked like Don Johnson’s character in Django Unchained. He had a penchant for sweater vests, Nutella on toasts, and bear hugs. He suffered from chronic pain, which caused him to be absent or late to work. Nora had liked him from the moment they’d met.

“Lots of shops have their Halloween displays up,” Nora went on. “It’s one of the things I hate about retail. We always have to jump the gun on holidays. Valentine candy hits the shelves January first. And on February fifteenth, out comes the chocolate bunnies and jellybeans.”

Sheldon shuddered. “And those revolting marshmallow chicks.”

Nora turned to him. “So what should we do? Hang up ghosts and goblins even though it feels like we’re a desert planet from Dune?”

“Ghosts and goblins. Dracula and Frankenstein. Do they really have a wow factor?” Sheldon pursed his lips. “These stuffed paratroopers failed. They didn’t lure people inside. We need to do better.”

“True,” said Nora. “But in our defense, September is all about back-to-school. I’ve talked to a few of the moms about their schedules, and it stressed me out just listening to them. They’re driving kids here and there, working all kinds of hours, hitting the gym, stocking the fridge, prepping meals, balancing the books, and keeping everyone in their house happy. I’ve been shoving copies of Mrs. Everything into their hands and wishing I could afford to give away a spa voucher with every purchase.”

Sheldon held up a finger. “Hey, now. You might be onto something with this. Today’s women are women of power. Gifted, talented, and driven women. Magical women. Why not fill the window with women like that?”

“I’m picturing the Hocus Pocus witches around a cauldron,” Nora said in a dreamy voice. “The cauldron’s rimmed with salt because the witches are brewing margaritas. It’s their ghouls’ night out. Get it?”

“The UV rays must be getting to her,” Sheldon mumbled to himself. “Witches? Sure. It’s Halloween, after all. But not the hags with hairy warts and pointy hats. Beautiful witches. Multi-generational. Culturally diverse. What if they brew books in their cauldron? Stories about powerful females?”

Nora was instantly caught up by the idea. “Yes! We could display book covers featuring powerful women. Lady Macbeth. Medusa.”

“Elphaba, Alina Starkov, Matilda.”

“Medea.” Nora could see books flying out of the cauldron. Books with cardboard wings and paper bodies. Colorful, glossy, magical books.

“Don’t forget Hermione Granger,” Sheldon added. “We can’t have a power coven without her.”

The two friends became more and more animated as they discussed materials, lighting, and other design elements.

Suddenly, Nora noticed the time.

“We’d better get ready to open. Even though it feels like the first circle of Dante’s Inferno outside, people will still want coffee.”

“That’s because it’s my coffee,” Sheldon said. “I’ll get my elixir going and pull some titles. We’ll have a window’s worth of fierce females by lunchtime.”

Sheldon opened the front door to the noisy jangle of vintage sleigh bells. They hung from a hook on the back of the door, signaling the arrival or departure of customers—a useful alarm in a rabbit warren of a bookshop.

Useful or not, Sheldon hated them. “One of these days, I’m going to stuff those bells with bubble gum. Or plaster of paris.”

Nora was about to reply when a woman’s scream pierced the morning air.

The scream had come from up the street. Somewhere close.

It was just past nine on a muggy Tuesday, and downtown Miracle Springs was quiet. Kids were in school. Working professionals were in their air-conditioned offices. The shops on Main Street were either already open or preparing to open at ten. There was light foot traffic on the sidewalks and across the street in the park, but it didn’t look like anyone else had heard the scream.

Nora believed the sound had come from the town’s newest business. The insurance agency that used to occupy the space had relocated to a newer office building with ample parking, and Nora expected someone to grab the prime retail space right away. After it sat empty for months, she learned that the lease was for the entire building, including the storefront and the two-bedroom apartment above it.

But all that was about to change. Two days ago, Nora had been walking back to the bookshop from the Gingerbread House when she’d noticed a purple awning over the entrance to the former insurance agency. A young man was on a ladder, wiping fingerprints from the dark purple letters he’d just applied to the front door. The letters spelled SOOTHE.

Soothe was a block and a half away, and the scream had come from that direction. Nora didn’t hesitate. She took off running.

Nora ran until she came up behind a woman who was hunched over a large object on the sidewalk. The woman had a slim frame, long, gray hair mottled with brown, and freckled skin. She passed her hands over the object and let out a soft moan.

Nora took a few more steps and the source of the woman’s distress was revealed. It was a life-sized sculpture of a robed figure.

Squatting next to the woman, Nora looked her up and down. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said without taking her eyes off the sculpture. “I shouldn’t have screamed like that. She’s broken. But it’s okay. Broken things are still beautiful.”

Nora glanced at the pair of workmen standing under the purple awning.

“We’ve moved lots of heavy stuff, and nothing like this ever happened before.” The younger workman, who wore jeans and a sweat-stained RC Cola T-shirt, sounded spooked.

The older man had a bearlike build and a gruff voice. “I tied that knot myself. The rope slipped like it was covered in butter.”

He made the sign of the cross, and Nora’s gaze shifted back to the sculpture.

It was an angel. A winged angel.

Her right wing was intact, but there was a patch of rough marble where its left wing had been. As Nora stared at the wounded angel, she involuntarily brought her hand to her own shoulder. She could feel her burn scars through her thin shirt. The angel’s scar reminded her of lunar rock. It was nothing like hers, which looked like jellyfish and small octopi, forever suspended in an aquarium of skin.

She heard someone breathing hard behind her and glanced up to see Sheldon offering his hand to the woman.

“I don’t usually pant like a golden retriever when I meet people, and if I help you up, I promise not to lick you.”

The woman gave him a grateful smile and took his hand.

When she and Nora were both on their feet, she introduced herself as Celeste Leopold. “This is my store. Mine and my daughter’s. Bren’s inside and probably has no clue what just happened to Juliana.”

“Is that the angel’s name?” Nora asked.

Celeste cocked her head. “Angel, saint, healer, cunning woman. She’s had many titles.”

Nora and Sheldon introduced themselves and told Celeste about Miracle Books. By this time, the workmen had picked up the angel’s detached wing.

“Where do you want this, ma’am?” asked the older man.

“Put it in the window, please.” Celeste said. Her tone was surprisingly light considering how upset she’d just been. “I’ll use it as a display. There aren’t any mistakes in art. Only marvelous new creations.”

As the men carried the wing inside, Sheldon mopped his brow with a handkerchief. He was still breathing heavily.

“Go back to the shop and put your feet up,” Nora whispered to him. “You’re as white as that angel.”

Sheldon bobbed his head at Celeste. “Excuse me, neighbor, but when my skin goes from Greek god bronze to blanched almond, it’s my cue to leave. I hope the rest of your move is uneventful.”

While Celeste thanked Sheldon for his concern, Nora stared down at the angel.

The hair that framed her face was wavy and fell all the way to the embroidered belt at her waist. Attached to the belt was a thick chain. The chain reached the hem of the woman’s floor-length skirts, and the last link was broken. The angel’s hands were cupped, and the stalk of a leafy plant was tucked under her left arm. Though she reminded Nora of the statues in European church naves, there was something modern about the woman’s expression.

She isn’t humble.

The angel’s gaze was direct. Unflinching. Her chin was raised. Was she confident? Or defiant?

“Does Juliana have a story?” she asked Celeste.

The question clearly pleased Celeste. “She sure does. It’s my story too. And my daughter’s.” Her face glowed with pride. “For many generations, the women in my family have been called Juliana. Sometimes, as a first name. Sometimes, as a middle name. That’s how important she is to us. She and I are centuries apart, but we share the same passion. She devoted her life to healing, and almost all of her descendants have followed in her footsteps.”

The workmen reappeared on the sidewalk with more rope. They eyed the sculpture warily before winding rope around her torso.

“What’s with the chain?” one of them asked.

There was a far-off look in Celeste’s blue eyes. “Some say she was chained to a devil. Others say it was a dragon. Since I sculpted her, I decided to set her free.”

The younger workman frowned. “Why not just get rid of the chain?”

Celeste glanced at Nora before answering, “Because once you’ve danced with a devil—or been burned by dragon fire— you don’t ever want to go near those things again. The chains are there as reminders.”

“Shit, I’d rather tie a string around my finger,” the man said.

A movement in the window directly above the store’s entrance caught Nora’s attention. Shielding her eyes against the sun’s glare, she looked up and saw a milk-pale face and dark eyes peering down at her. The ghostlike vision drew a finger across its throat before smiling in delight.

Suddenly, Nora’s burn scars began to tingle. The sensation started on the back of her hand and traveled up her arm to her neck. It crept over her cheek and forehead, even though a plastic surgeon had erased those scars over a year ago.

“I’d better go,” Nora stammered to Celeste. “Good luck with everything.”

She shot a glance at the second-story window, but no one was there.

Nora turned and started walking fast, eager to get back to Miracle Books. Her skin was still tingling like crazy.

Must be prickly heat.

At the end of the block, the tingling turned to itching. Nora put her hand to her forehead. Her hairline was damp. She needed to get out of the sun. She’d left her hat inside the shop and though she always wore sunscreen, she probably needed to reapply it.

As she paused under the welcome shade of the hardware store awning, the itching stopped. She now felt the weight of eyes on her back.

Was Celeste watching her?

Or the person who’d made the throat-cutting gesture?

The tickly feeling of being watched stayed with Nora until she entered the bookstore.

“And you said I was pale,” Sheldon cried from behind the espresso machine. “The ghost emoji on my phone is tanner than you. Sit down. I’ll get you water.”

Five minutes and a glass of water later, Nora was herself again.

“That was weird—for both of us to get overheated like that,” she said. “At nine thirty in the morning?”

“Not really. I skipped breakfast and you went on a hike before work. I need food and you need fluids. Doctor Vega is in the house.”

Nora waved a hand, dismissing the subject. “Is the paper back there? I think I saw a short piece about Soothe on the front page.”

With the paper in hand, Sheldon sat down in the purple chair opposite Nora’s mustard-colored velour chair. Three other mismatched chairs formed a circle around a glass coffee table. This was the readers’ circle, the most popular place in the shop.

“All right, children, are you ready for storytime?” Sheldon cleared his throat and began to read. “‘The Greene Building has a new tenant. Ms. Celeste Leopold has signed a three-year lease on the retail space and two-bedroom apartment. Ms. Leopold’s boutique, Soothe, an eclectic mix of merchandise meant to reduce stress and take the sting out of chronic pain, will open in late September. Soothe will also stock organic food and drinks in the form of CBD comfort muffins and anti-inflammatory teas.’”

Nora gaped. “Comfort muffins? I wonder if Hester knows about this.”

“Knows about what?”

Hester Winthrop, owner of the Gingerbread House Bakery and a member of Nora’s book club, the Secret, Book, and Scone Society, came around the corner of the Fiction section carrying a large bakery box. Inside were puff pastries shaped like open books. The scent of buttery dough wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of fresh coffee. Nora couldn’t imagine a more heavenly smell.

Sheldon took the box from Hester and carried it into the ticket agent’s office. “We were just reading about our new neighbor.”

Hester’s face lit up. “I saw movers at the purple awning. What kind of store is it?”

Nora pointed at the paper. “Read the article on the bottom of the front page.”

“I don’t have time. I—”

“You need to read it.”

Hester’s apple print apron was dusted with flour and cinnamon, so she grabbed the paper and read the article where she stood. When she reached the final sentence, her eyes widened in shock.

“Comfort muffins?” Her voice was shrill. “What the hell?”

Sheldon slung an arm around Hester’s shoulder. “Celeste probably doesn’t know about your comfort scones. She hasn’t even moved in, and we’re already getting mad at her.” He looked at Nora. “Why don’t we invite her over for coffee and a chat? We’ll tell her about Hester’s scones and suggest an alternative name for her baked goods. Mellow muffins?”

Hester smiled. “That’s pretty good. But are CBD muffins even legal?”

“Yep,” Sheldon replied. “I use CBD oil all the time. Lots of people do. I wouldn’t worry about a few muffins, sweet girl. Your food is enchanted. You have lines out the door every day.”

“You’re right. Besides, this town needs more female business owners. I should do what I can to support Celeste. Let me know when you ask her for coffee, Nora. I’d like to be there.”

As Nora hurried to finish her opening tasks before the clock struck ten, all thoughts of Celeste Leopold were pushed aside. After the shop was ready and Nora had greeted her first customer of the day, she began gathering titles for the new window display.

A woman picked up the copy of Alchemy and Meggy Swann from the top of Nora’s pile and examined the back cover.

“I love historical fiction,” she said to Nora. “Do you think my granddaughter would like it? She’s in the sixth grade.”

“She’s the perfect age for Karen Cushman. Does she like historical novels?”

The woman looked aggrieved. “Not really. She’s what you’d call a reluctant reader.”

“Hm. Maybe she just hasn’t met the right book. What are her interests?”

“Well, the last time I saw her, she told me about a paper she’d written on gender equality. Her teacher was very impressed. And she marched in a parade last year.”

Nora smiled and touched the cover of the book in the woman’s hand. “Meggy, the main character, travels to London to work for her alchemist father. However, she is turned down because she’s not male. This is a story of a young woman fighting for her future. I have a feeling your granddaughter will cheer on Meggy Swann.”

Though the woman thanked Nora, she didn’t look happy. “It’s hard to connect with my grandkids. I don’t get their technology. I don’t know what they’re talking about most of the time. Are there books that can explain these things to me?”

“Probably, but I don’t think you need them. Why don’t you and your granddaughter read this book at the same time? Maybe you could meet somewhere special to talk about it? That would be a pretty cool way to connect.”

The woman loved the idea. “I’m going to write a note on the title page. And buy us matching bookmarks too. I thought I saw some . . .”

Nora pointed her toward the bookmark spinner and returned to her stack. Now that she’d sold her only copies of Alchemy and Meggy Swann, she’d have to find a middle-grade replacement for the window. Luckily, she had another Cushman novel, The Midwife’s Apprentice, on the shelf. While she was in the children’s section, she also grabbed Ella Enchanted, Malala’s Magic Pencil, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Matilda, and Neil Gaiman’s Coraline.

After bagging the grandmother’s purchases and telling her to come back soon, Nora perused the stack of YA titles Sheldon had selected for the window display.

“Every book has a feisty female on the cover,” he said as Nora looked at copies of Throne of Glass, Labyrinth Lost, Children of Blood and Bone, and Uprooted.

Nora nodded in approval. “These books paint a picture of strong, determined, powerful women of all ages. Magical women. We can add Wicked to the pile, but not A Discovery of Witches or Practical Magic. There are no women on those covers. Let’s find a few more adult titles.”

In between helping customers, Nora pulled copies of The Mists of Avalon and Paulo Coelho’s The Witch of Portobello, and Sheldon added Alice Hoffman’s The Dovekeepers and Isabel Allende’s The House of Spirits to the pile.

Later, while Nora was reviewing their final selections, a young woman with pale skin, purple-tipped black hair, black clothing, and a sullen expression approached the counter.

“This is from my mom,” she said, dumping a paper bag on top of The House of Spirits. “For checking on her this morning.”

Nora took in the young woman’s nose ring, eyebrow piercings, Metallica T-shirt, and knee-high combat boots. “You must be Bren. I’m Nora.”

Bren pointed at the empty space above Nora’s pinkie knuckle. “She said you’d been in a fire. How’d it happen? Did you start it?”

But Nora wasn’t listening. She’d just recognized Bren’s face. “You were in the upstairs window—when the angel fell—I saw you.”

“I know. Wasn’t it awesome?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I mean, who wants to be an angel? They don’t have any fun.”

She walked over to the bookmark spinner. Using her middle finger, she spun it once. Twice. Three times. The bookmarks lifted into the air.

Sheldon stepped out from behind the North Carolina Authors section just in time to see Bren whip the front door open, creating a riot of noise from the sleigh bells. She left the shop without a backward glance.

“What’s in the bag?” Sheldon asked. “A hand grenade?”

Nora peeked inside. “Two chocolate muffins. Do you want one?”

Sheldon curled his lip. “If that girl does Like Water for Chocolate baking, those muffins will taste like angst and hostility.”

Picking up a muffin, Nora gave it a good sniff. “It’s a gift. I should try it, at least.”

Sheldon watched with interest as Nora broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. His interest was even more piqued when she immediately spit the piece back into the bag.

“It’s that bad?” he asked. “Should I feed it to the pigeons during my lunch break?”

Nora shoved the bag into the trash can under the register. “I won’t be held responsible for the deaths of innocent animals.”

Sheldon picked up the single bookmark that had fallen off the spinner and handed it to Nora.

“Why do I feel like things are about to get interesting around here?”

A customer entered and he and Sheldon disappeared into the stacks.

Nora didn’t even notice them. She was too busy staring at a photograph of a stained-glass window. The figure in the center of the window was an angel.

As she held the bookmark, Nora’s uneasiness from that morning returned. Angels were supposed to be symbols of light and protection.

But there was another kind of angel. The fallen kind.

The ones who became devils.

Over the next few days, Nora was too busy to give much thought to the Leopold women. Sheldon wasn’t feeling well on Thursday, which meant Nora had to run the children’s story hour. Though she was happy to read Ten Apples Up on Top! to a bunch of squirming toddlers, she couldn’t oversee the coordinating activity, serve coffee, and assist walk-in customers.

Luckily for her, the only walk-in customer who needed help was Sheriff Grant McCabe. The sheriff was a friend, and since he was off duty, he sat down . . .