Manhattan fashionista Kelly Quinn thought she'd left her upstate New York town far behind...until the Seventh Avenue expat returns home to revamp her grandmother's consignment shop into an upscale boutique — and unwittingly sets a trend for murder....
After her rising career as a Manhattan buyer is derailed, Kelly has mixed feelings about relocating back to Lucky Cove, in spite of her big plans for the soon-to-be-renamed Curated by Kelly Resale Boutique. What's left of her luck starts running out when a customer puts on a black lace dress that triggers visions of someone being murdered. As if the haunted “Murder Dress” isn't enough to kill business, the psychic's doppelganger cousin has just been found bludgeoned to death.
Was Maxine LeMoyne the real target or was it a case of mistaken murder? With some creepy pre-Halloween bargain hunters walking the night and Kelly suddenly a person of interest, a second murder rocks the close-knit town. Now Kelly could be the one who ends up talking to dead people when she's stalked by a killer determined to take her out in high style....
Release date:
January 22, 2019
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
256
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“How do you explain this? The tag says my dress has been marked down by seventy-five percent. There appears to be a mistake.”
Kelly Quinn turned her head to the raised voice of the woman standing at the sales counter. She held a midi-length floral dress with cap sleeves in one hand while her other was propped on her hip.
“Irene, you know the store’s policy on markdowns,” Pepper Donovan answered with a smile. She always had a smile, except for when Kelly announced she was making changes to the consignment shop.
“How on earth am I supposed to earn any money? Martha never put merchandise on sale,” Floral Dress Lady countered.
As Kelly made her way across the shop, she was well aware her grandmother didn’t do a lot of things, and that was why, in the past few years, the shop’s earnings had steadily declined.
“Good morning. I’m Kelly Quinn.” She extended her hand, but it was received with an intense glare. She pulled her hand back and braced herself for an unpleasant conversation. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Seems? Dear child, there doesn’t seem to be a problem. There is a problem. My dress has been marked down to an unreasonable amount of money. Please explain to me the reason for your decision.”
Kelly bristled at being called a child. She’d just celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday three months ago and, up until forty-five days ago, she had a full-time job with a well-laid-out career path and her own apartment, albeit it tiny, in the West Village of New York City. How many children could say that?
“I was just reminding Irene of the store’s pricing policy.” No doubt Pepper was trying to remind her new boss about the agreement every consignee signed. She was younger than Kelly’s late granny but still old enough to feel she should be in charge.
Kelly didn’t need to be reminded. She was familiar with the document, as well as many other documents pertaining to the shop. The past few weeks had been filled with reviewing papers, meeting with lawyers, and sleepless nights because of her new acquisition.
“When you consigned your clothing, you signed an agreement, which stated how merchandise is priced. After seven weeks, merchandise is marked down by seventy-five percent,” Kelly said.
“I see.” Floral Dress Lady stretched out her arm, and the dress dangled from its hanger while she admired it. “So, this lovely dress that cost me way more than the original consigned price is now a mere ten dollars?” Her brows arched, and her glare intensified.
This isn’t good.
“It’s important to keep turning over merchandise. Especially out-of-season clothing.” When Kelly had gone painstakingly through every item in inventory, she found a bunch of spring/summer clothing that should have been cleared out months ago. “When customers see new stuff, they tend to buy more. This translates into money for our consignees.” Kelly hoped the explanation would appease the woman.
“Except for this consignee. Why don’t you do a better job of selling your merchandise so it doesn’t become old?”
No appeasement there.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Kelly, this is Irene Singer.” Pepper jumped back into the conversation. “She’s been consigning with us for a while.”
Irene Singer gave Kelly a stern nod as if her name should have meant something. It didn’t.
The bell over the front door chimed, prompting Kelly to glance over her shoulder. More shoppers. She needed to wrap up this dispute over the pricing.
“Ms. Singer, unfortunately I can’t change the price on the dress as per our policy to mark down accordingly based on length of time in inventory, but I’m going to give the dress back to you.” Phew. She managed to say all that in one breath, and it actually sounded like she knew what she was saying. “Let me just snip off the price tag.”
Irene Singer’s eyes widened. “I don’t have a use for this dress, which is why I consigned it.”
There wasn’t going to be any appeasement with the woman whatsoever. Frustration bubbled in Kelly. She hadn’t worked a sales floor since fashion school, and after graduating, she didn’t think she’d ever be back to arranging displays, restocking inventory, or handling cranky customers. Yet, there she was. The new owner of the Lucky Cove Consignment Shop soon to be renamed Curated by Kelly Resale Boutique. The name change reflected Kelly’s vision for a trendy consignment shop for locals and tourists.
“Irene, look, you consigned with us to get some cash. Let us sell the dress. After all, you did say you have no use for it,” Pepper said.
Kelly admired Pepper’s genius in using Irene’s own words to try to bring the woman around to reason. Her years of experience working in the shop shone, and Kelly was grateful to have her on her team. Her team of two.
Irene was silent for a moment. “Fine. A little extra cash will come in handy.” She dropped the dress on the counter and, without as much as a goodbye, she marched out of the shop.
Kelly exhaled a relieved breath. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” Pepper’s gaze drifted to a spreadsheet Kelly had created with a list of items in the home furnishings department to be marked down. Her head shook as she scanned the list of every item stuffed into the small addition of the building. No doubt, she was second-guessing Kelly’s decision to stop selling home items and focus solely on fashion and accessories.
“She’s wound kind of tight.”
Pepper looked up from the spreadsheet. “You’ll learn how to handle the tough ones. You’re right about Irene. But she wasn’t always like that.”
Before Kelly could ask what happened to turn Irene bitter, Pepper reached her hand over the counter and touched Kelly’s arm. “We didn’t finish our conversation earlier.”
Kelly’s stomach constricted. They’d been having a lot of conversations, and none of them were easy.
Pepper gave her new boss a pointed look over the rim of her glasses. “I still don’t understand why you need to change the name. It’s been Lucky Cove Consignment since the day your granny opened the shop.”
Kelly had been on the receiving end of that look, which she dubbed the “Pepper glare,” since she made the decision to stay in Lucky Cove and keep her late granny’s consignment shop. She broke eye contact and considered how to tell Pepper one more time the reason for the name change.
“Granny did her thing and now it’s my turn.”
When would the explanation sink in for Pepper? She hoped soon. Kelly gave her granny props because she knew what her thing was. Kelly? She didn’t have a clue anymore. Her life plan went right out the window the day she carried a cardboard box out of the buying offices of Bishop’s Department Store. At least she’d had the foresight to wear a Rebecca Taylor floral dress she had scored for sixty percent off and Marc Fisher’s lace-up sandals she found for seventy percent off. Yes, on her last day at Bishop’s, she had looked as good as she did the working girl’s walk of shame—the trek from desk to exit for the last time with her entire career stuffed in a box.
Kelly’s heart seized when she thought about that morning. Everything she’d worked for was gone. Poof. Just like that.
“You can do your thing without changing the shop’s name,” Pepper countered.
Kelly sighed. She now understood how hamsters felt on their wheels. Around and around and around and nothing changed.
“I have muffins!” Liv Moretti announced as she breezed by the sales counter on her way to the office.
Kelly’s nose wriggled. Pumpkin spice muffins. Her favorite. She stepped back from the counter, releasing herself from Pepper’s hold, and followed her best friend to the back of the store.
They entered the staff room, which used to be the original kitchen in the colonial house before it was transformed into the clothing store. Granny turned the kitchen into a multipurpose space for meal breaks and office work. A desk was tucked into a corner, and a file cabinet stood where a hutch used to be. The tile floor was dull with chips and cracks from years of use, and there was a draft around the sink window. Definitely not a pretty space, but it was functional.
Liv opened the pastry box. The heavenly aroma of freshly baked muffins turned Kelly’s souring mood bright again. Liv was a genius in the kitchen. Good baking genes ran in the Moretti family, while good eating genes ran in Kelly’s family. She grabbed a muffin and sank her teeth into the moist, tasty treat and savored unapologetically.
For the past week, Liv had been coming to help mark down merchandise and always brought treats from her family’s bakery. Kelly should’ve had more resolve, because the skinny jeans she pulled on at the crack of dawn were already a little tight around her waist, thanks to her overindulging. She attributed it to stress eating, and once she settled into her new role as a shop owner, she’d be more in control. At least, she hoped so.
“You know, this is kind of fun.” Liv reached into the box and plucked out a muffin. She took a bite as Kelly watched in amazement. Somehow Liv managed to stay lean, despite the fact she was surrounded by cakes, cookies, and cupcakes all day long. At nearly five seven, her lithe frame was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. Her dark auburn hair was styled in a pixie cut, and she favored skinny pants with bateau neckline tops. Good thing she was Kelly’s bestie or else Kelly would’ve hated her.
“Fun?” Now it was Kelly’s turn to give a look to Liv. Fun was bargain hunting in the city. Fun was meeting up with friends for cocktails. Fun was sleeping in. Kelly had been doing none of those things.
She’d been operating on limited sleep since Granny’s funeral. She was used to working long hours at Bishop’s, especially during Fashion Week when she had to keep up with her buyer as they crisscrossed New York City to attend shows. But owning a retail store? That was a whole new level of sleep deprivation.
“You’ll see. Once you’re all settled, you’ll see for yourself how much fun it is to own your own business.”
Kelly took another bite of her muffin while she tried to identify the “fun” part of owning a business. So far she hadn’t come across anything remotely considered fun, only a lot of hard work.
“I guess the upside is no one can fire me.” Kelly walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. She handed one to Liv before opening her bottle. “The downside is there will be no customers.”
“Stop! You’re going to have customers. There are a whole bunch out there now.” Liv gestured to the swinging door that led to the shop.
“What if the regulars hate what I’ve planned for the shop? Pepper does. What if I can’t get enough new customers? What if I let Granny down?” Kelly’s mind raced with every negative scenario that could possibly play out. She took a long drink of water to cool her jets. She needed to remain calm and confident. What was the old saying? Don’t let them see you sweat.
“Hey, you. I’m sure your grandmother would approve of what you’re doing.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I had a run-in with Irene Singer. Do you know her?”
Liv gave an exaggerated nod. “Everyone knows Irene Singer.”
“What’s her deal?”
“Her husband died and she took it hard.” After another swig of water, Liv screwed on the lid and set the bottle down. “I’m here to help with the sale. I better get out there. And you should too.”
“Bossy much?” Kelly glanced at her fitness tracker, which doubled as a watch, and, given the number of sugary sweets she’d been eating, she should revert the tracker back to its basic function—counting her calories and steps—or her skinny jeans would never fit.
Liv chuckled. “Habit.”
Kelly led the way out of the staff room. The shop’s layout was choppy. None of the original walls were removed when the residence was turned into a retail store. Liv and Kelly arrived in the area that used to be the living room.
“Who’s that woman?” Kelly asked.
A tall, willowy blonde stood beside a circular rack. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, skimming the Victorian-inspired tiered maxi dress with lace inserts and delicate flutter sleeves in creamy white she wore. Her skin was porcelain, and her gaze was fixated on the black lace dress she held. She was a woman who could wear lace and not look dowdy.
“Bernadette Rydell. Lucky Cove’s resident psychic.” Liv’s tone was cynical, and she usually didn’t do cynical. “She talks to dead people.”
“Seriously?” Kelly swung her head around to look at her friend.
“She does readings out of her cottage on Gull Drive. My aunt Eloisa gave me a gift certificate for one last Christmas,” Liv said.
Kelly’s mouth gaped open. The Morettis were all about holy water, rosary beads, and fish on Fridays. They didn’t do psychics. “No!”
“My mother almost had a stroke when I opened the envelope. You know how she is. She sees psychics as the devil’s handmaidens.”
“I know. What was her sister thinking?”
Liv shrugged. “Eloisa has always been out there on the fringe. I think she wanted to push my mother’s buttons.”
Kelly laughed. She enjoyed Liv’s family. When Eloisa and Geovanna, Liv’s mother, got together, they were a hoot. They were sisters who loved big and fought even bigger. But, at the end of the day, they always had each other’s backs. A twinge of sadness flicked inside of Kelly. She doubted she’d ever experience that type of relationship with her own sister again.
“Did you have the reading?” Kelly asked.
“No. No way. I don’t believe in that stuff. Oh, there’s Carly. Let me see if she needs any help.” Liv dashed away, leaving Kelly alone, mesmerized by Bernadette.
The psychic, if she really was one, had a unique aura around her. Kelly couldn’t quite put her finger on it. While not able to pinpoint what made Bernadette intriguing to her, she did realize she needed to stop lurking and welcome the woman to her shop.
Her shop. That still sounded weird to her. She never thought in a million years she’d own a business, much less a consignment shop. Yet, there she was. Bernadette turned and caught Kelly staring. Not cool, Kell. Bernadette probably thought Kelly was some kind of stalker. Time to act like the professional she was supposed to be.
Kelly smiled as she set forward to introduce herself. She extended her hand. Hopefully, Bernadette would receive her better than Irene Singer did earlier. “Hello, I’m —”
“Kelly Quinn.” Bernadette shook Kelly’s hand. Her grip was firm. “Very nice to meet you.” Her dark eyes with flecks of gold held Kelly’s gaze. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your grandmother is at peace now. She wants you to know that. She’s…she’s proud of you and your decision.”
Her granny was proud of her? All the weight that had been crushing Kelly’s shoulders eased up for a moment. Her granny was proud of her. Wait. Did Bernadette just read her?
“I see you two introduced yourselves.” Liv returned with an armful of clothing. “Carly wants me to hold these for her while she checks out the back room.”
Kelly nodded absently. She was entranced by Bernadette, who still held on to her hand.
“Passing over to the other side is often a welcome relief for people.” Bernadette’s voice was soothing and confident.
“Would you like to try the dress on?” Liv asked Bernadette, gesturing to the garment draped over the psychic’s arm.
Bernadette blinked. “Oh, yes.” She let go of Kelly’s hand and gave Liv the dress. “I was immediately drawn to it.”
“The dressing room is right there.” Liv turned and walked just a few feet to pull back a curtain and hung the dress in the small space outfitted with a mirror and a stool. Bernadette followed and stepped into the dressing room. She pulled the curtain closed.
Liv returned to Kelly’s side. “Cat got your tongue?”
“What? No.”
“Don’t tell me you’re falling for her routine? Lucky Cove is small and people talk. Especially about your granny. There’s nothing she can tell you she couldn’t have learned from the gossip mill.”
Kelly wouldn’t agree that she was falling for Bernadette’s routine, but she was curious. Her first summer as an intern for Ralph Lauren, a fellow intern went to see a psychic in the East Village. Kelly nearly choked on her latte when she found out Bethany forked over a thousand dollars for readings. For a fashion student working only for course credit, that was a lot of cash.
Later she found out the psychic turned out to be right about several things. She nailed the cheating boyfriend, an awesome job opportunity at Tory Burch, and a health scare that landed Bethany in the hospital. So maybe there was something to psychic readings. Who was Kelly to judge?
“You’re falling for it. I can see it in your eyes.” Liv shot Kelly a stern look she’d picked up and honed from her mother. “This could all be some kind of prank to drum up business for her and her soothsayer cousin. Halloween is just a few days away.”
Before Kelly could respond, Pepper came up beside her and leaned close to whisper, “Camille just called and gave me a heads-up your uncle is on his way over.”
“Good grief.” Kelly rolled her eyes. Her uncle Ralph had been hovering around the shop since the day Granny’s will was read, and not because he wanted to lend a hand to help Kelly. Manual labor wasn’t her uncle’s thing, but underhanded business maneuvers were his specialty.
“Do you think he’s up to something?”
Kelly shrugged. “He’s always up to something. Unfortunately, because he’s executor, I have to deal with him. Can’t Camille keep him in the office?”
Camille was Pepper’s sister-in-law and Ralph’s secretary. Both women shared a mutual dislike of the man, as did most normal people.
Pepper shook her head. “No can do. He’s already left.”
The dressing room curtain swept back, and Bernadette stepped out wearing the black dress. Kelly struggled to find a word to describe how amazing Bernadette looked, because she was blown away. Stunning was the first word that popped into Kelly’s head.
Bernadette had pulled her long hair up into a messy bun to show off the scalloped eyelash-trimmed lace bateau neckline, which showcased her elongated neck. The bodice and skirt of the dress, intricately sewn pieces of fabric and lace, skimmed her lean torso and hugged her hips, and the scalloped lace hem gave a tease of her long legs.
Kelly stepped forward. “It’s beautiful on you.”
“Kelly’s right,” Liv agreed.
“Exquisite. The dress is meant for you,” Pepper said.
“I can’t see how you wouldn’t want to buy this dress. If it looked that good on me, I’d buy it in a heartbeat.” Kelly wasn’t trying for a hard sell. She really meant the compliment.
Though, Bernadette didn’t look as excited about the dress as Kelly felt. Bernadette’s face should have been all lit up. Women knew when they looked darn good in a dress. Heck, Kelly had done her fair share of happy dances when she’d found a dress her body rocked. But not Bernadette. The expression on her face was void of any emotion.
“If I were twenty years younger, I’d buy the dress.” Pepper laughed.
Both Kelly and Liv knew Pepper meant thirty years younger, but what woman didn’t want to shave a decade or two off?
“You don’t like it?” Kelly’s brows furrowed.
Bernadette hadn’t moved since coming out of the changing room. She stood there as if frozen in place.
“We’ll find you another dress,” Pepper suggested.
Bernadette shook her head and then shut her eyes. She swayed as she dragged in a deep breath. “There’s something wrong. Wrong with this dress.”
Kelly, Liv, and Pepper exchanged looks. There wasn’t anything wrong with the dress. It was perfect.
“I feel it. It’s happening far away.” Bernadette’s soft and lyrical voice captivated them.
“If she starts to levitate, I’m outta here,” Pepper quipped.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Liv agreed.
Bernadette’s hand flew up and pressed against her chest. And her eyes opened suddenly; her gaze was set dead ahead. “There’s a man. I see a man. He’s far away.”
Kelly, Liv, and Pepper looked around the shop. There weren’t any men. In unison, they asked, “Where?”
A chill skittered along Kelly’s spine. This was getting weird. “What’s going on?” she whispered to Liv, who replied with a simple shrug.
“Do you think we should call someone?” Pepper asked.
“Who?” Kelly looked around, and . . .
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