This is one of those times when my gift feels like the worst curse in the world. If I was like everyone else, I’d be blissfully unaware that my good friend and business partner, a woman I admire, has just lied to me.
I swallow hard. “Oh. Sure. That makes sense.”
Sarah smiles at me, but it’s the same kind of smile that you’d give to your dog before you take him to the vet to get neutered. Trust me, I’m only doing this for your own good. She leads Heidi back to the kitchen area, leaving me with a brain full of disturbing images, most of them centering around Heidi either sabotaging my oven or stealing my recipe box. It’s like we’ve let the fox inside the henhouse. What’s Sarah thinking?
The door to The Bistro opens, and in walks Victor Marino. “Good morning, Lucy!” At the sound of Victor’s voice, Paco slinks down, trying to make himself smaller. I really hope Victor isn’t going to pester me this morning about involving Paco in a séance. I’m mentally preparing to turn him down again when Victor says, “Glorious day, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be alive.”
Okay. Something is definitely not right here. Victor is one of the more upbeat members of the Sunshine Ghost Society, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so downright cheerful. But it’s that last statement that feels off. Happy to be alive? Victor lives for the day he passes over to the other side and becomes one with the spirit world (his words, not mine).
I look out the window facing the gulf. “It’s actually a bit overcast, but yeah, not too bad.”
He chuckles. “I’m in such a good mood, I didn’t even notice.”
“Really? Been communing with the spirits?” I ask, fully expecting to be regaled with a story about his latest ghostly encounter.
“Not exactly.” He glances around like he doesn’t want to be overheard. “Can you keep a secret?”
Uh-oh. I’ve heard this before. “Sure.”
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone yet, but I think I’ll burst if I can’t share my good news. I’m going to be published! I’ve secretly been working on my autobiography for the past two years. Oh, I know that face,” he says at my expression. “Autobiographies can be so dull. Never fear. It’s the story of my life, ye
s, but it’s hidden in a very intricate fictionalized plot not unlike the … The Da Vinci Code. Not that I would ever compare my writing to an author as famous as Dan Brown.”
“Don’t tell me J.W. Quicksilver is going to help you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” He frowns. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.” I wave him over to the edge of the counter, where we won’t be overheard. “I’m sorry to be indiscreet, but did you give him money?” Victor retired from a forty-year career at the post office. I hate to think of even a dime of Victor’s hard-earned pension in the hands of that smooth-talking fraud.
Victor’s cheeks go red. “I really can’t discuss the fine points of our contract.”
“You signed a contract? Did you have an attorney look it over?”
“I wasn’t born yesterday. Hoyt isn’t just an attorney. He specializes in literary contracts.”
“Hoyt? As in Hoyt Daniels?”
Victor looks pleased. “You’ve heard of him too? He was at the signing last night. Mr. Quicksilver is one of his clients. He only represents big authors.”
“I’ve heard of him all right.”
“Please don’t tell anyone, Lucy. Hoyt says that these contracts can fall through for anything.”
I nod, too angry to think about anything other than how many more Victors are out there this morning. I wonder if Travis has had any luck with the photo I sent him?
I take Victor’s order, then head into the kitchen, where Jill is by herself, assembling a sandwich. “Where’s Sarah? And Heidi?” I ask.
“They’re in the pantry going over inventory.”
Sarah is showing Heidi our inventory?
Something Sarah said to me yesterday reruns through my brain. When Sarah offered me the money I borrowed from Will, she said she had a few ideas about how I could pay her back, only I didn’t get a chance to ask her what she meant by that.
“Everything okay?” Jill asks.
I shake away the bad juju from my brain. I’ll deal with this after tonight.
“Sure. Everything’s peachy. Do you mind if I cut out early? We close in twenty minutes, and there’s no one at the counter. I need to see Travis.”