“Something better than fiction.” Mary-Lou leaned closer, a reliable sign that she was about to impart a priceless nugget of gossip.

Because she didn’t have anywhere to be for the next hour, Melanie leaned in, although why they were whispering she had no idea. There were three other people browsing the shelves, all of them tourists who weren’t likely to be the slightest bit interested in the antics of the locals.

“Is this about Mrs. Highgate’s poodle? Because I already heard all about it.” The much-pampered pooch had escaped the day before and dug up all the neighbor’s newly planted begonias. The neighbor being Edna Casey, that little adventure had resulted in a visit from the police. Mel had heard about it from Greg, who had taken the call before breakfast.

“This is bigger than Mrs. Highgate’s poodle. Don’t you watch the news?” Mary-Lou beamed at the tourist hovering behind Melanie. “How can I help you?”

“I’ll take these two, thank you.” The woman handed over two paperbacks.

News?

Melanie waited, foot tapping, while Mary-Lou rang up the purchases and made small talk about the weather and the various attractions that the woman should see while she was in town and, by the way, had she read the next three books in the series she was buying?

As a result of that exchange the woman left the store carrying five books, rather than the two she’d originally intended to purchase, and Mel glanced at her friend in admiration.

“Choose two, get sold three more?”

“It’s a solid sales strategy and a guaranteed way to stay in business.” Mary-Lou leaned forward again. “Have you really not seen the news this morning?”

“I told you, I was handling a major domestic incident.” Mel grabbed a thriller from the shelf closest to the desk. “How about this one? Any good?”

“Yes. Don’t you watch TV?”

“The news creates tension. I’ve been listening to Mozart. Supposed to be good for stress levels. I’m the mother of a teenager. My stress levels are always high, without making things worse. I doubt even Mozart is going to crack it but I’m willing to give it a try if he is. If that fails I’m probably turning to alcohol.” Mel flipped the book over and read the back. She took her time because she knew Mary-Lou was burning to share whatever news Mel had missed and she didn’t see why she shouldn’t have a little fun once in a while. “So what’s happening?”

“Cliff Whitman?”

Mel’s good mood drained away. She slapped the book down on the counter. “What about Cliff Whitman?”

Mary-Lou drew her finger across her throat and Mel frowned, confused.