For a moment the pelican just stared, unaffected, but finally it stretched out its wings and took flight. Violet followed its trajectory with her eyes, afraid to check the step where it had been standing. When the bird disappeared behind the canopy of trees, she lowered her gaze.

Yet another set of fish bones.

It was similar to the ones before, with an eye hole, gently curved spine, and slender tail bones. The pelican had left them behind. Threat, hint, or warning, it didn’t matter. As Violet charged up the steps, her anger mixed with a side of fear, and she sent the bones careening into the azalea bushes.

* * *

All day at the shop, Violet was fidgety and clumsy. She dropped a set of hand-painted wineglasses a customer was in the process of purchasing, dripped a blob of cocktail sauce down the front of her shirt as she ate a quick lunch behind the counter, and accidentally knocked a rack of note cards off the counter with her elbow while she was dusting.

At that last fumble Trudy approached and helped her gather the scattered cards. As Violet stood and set the rack back on the counter with a little too much force, Trudy crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“I’m fine.” Violet brushed her hair back off her forehead and adjusted her glasses on her nose. “Just a little out of sorts today.”

The door jingled and Emmajean ambled in with her bag full of books over her shoulder. “Afternoon, ladies,” she chirped.

Every day after her shift at the library ended, Emmajean headed down Water Street to Two Sisters and settled herself in one of the chairs in front of the windows. If a customer came in while Trudy and Violet were busy, Emmajean would take it upon herself to educate the customer about the pieces for sale and help the customer fill up her shopping bag, the fuller the better.

Emmajean set her bag next to her usual seat in the curve of the bay window and headed for the wooden table at the back of the shop that held the teakettle and a pitcher of ice water. A few moments later, she dropped down into her seat with a sigh. She dunked her tea bag up and down in her mug, sending scents of lemon and spice swirling above her.

“Any more lovebirds at the library?” Violet asked as a gentleman opened the door to leave, his purchase in a bag on his elbow. The bell jingled his good-bye.

“Not today, thank the Lord. Just a fella trying to steal half a dozen books.”

Another regular customer browsing through a selection of books by the door took a few steps toward Emmajean. “What do you mean, ‘steal’?” the woman asked. “They’re free, aren’t they?”

“They’re free as long as you check them out before you leave with them. But this guy chose to bypass the checkout desk, and let me tell you those circulation managers love it when the alarm goes off when someone tries to leave with a pilfered book. Usually the patron will stop and go back to the desk, but this guy decided to make a run for it.”