coffee and a latte later, Agnes, Rose and Mildred entered the bakery.
âGood news.â Agnes was all smiles. âWeâve secured our visitor a room at the Lambridge Bed & Breakfast. Welcome to Harmony Valley.â
Who said Harmony Valley wasnât progressive? Just this morning thereâd been no B&B in town.
Wait a minute. Lambridge ? Tracy glanced at Phil. That meant...
Euniceâs penciled-in eyebrows rose, as if she was just catching on, too. âButââ
âLeona Lambridge is the proprietor,â Agnes cut Eunice off, looking as calm as if she lied through her teeth every day of the week.
Leona Lambridge was also the town killjoy. Sheâd never bowled for the pumpkin queen crown. She didnât even hand out candy on Halloween!
Maybe not such a good idea to book Mr. Sarcastic there. âHey...uh... Agnes...â
Agnes paid no heed to Tracy either. âSheâs expecting you,â Agnes said to Chad. She proceeded to introduce Chad to everyone in the bakery.
âAre there other hotel choices in town?â That tone of voice. It said Chad was suspicious. It said heâd love for something hinkie to be going on.
Was it wrong to think Chadâs intelligence was hot when he was the villain here? Probably about as wrong as Tracy thinking she might actually help save the town.
Save it? Who was she kidding? The only people the older town residents listened to were their doctors, and that was only half the time.
To her credit, Agnesâ smile never wavered as she answered Chad. âAt the moment, the Lambridge B&B is our only offering.â
Rose was doing a slow grapevine in front of the pastry case, eyeing the scones that sheâd passed on earlier. âYouâll find a great many painted ladies in town, not just the Lambridge place.â
Phil made a hacking noise, as if he was coughing up a hairball.
Mildred had planted her walker seat by Philâs table and seemed lost in thought as she stared at the back of Philâs head, perhaps pondering the need for a slap to dislodge that hairball of Philâs.
Rose held a pose at the end of the bakery case, an aging ballerina poised to leap in cargo pants and hiking boots. âYouâll be here ten days, correct?â
Ten days? They were doomed.
The mayor jumped back in the fray. âPlenty of time to experience everything that makes Harmony Valley special.â
True that. Special and weird and wonderful.
However, chances were slim the villainous Chad would recognize wonderful if it sashayed up to him and kissed his cheek.
The reputation-ruiner cast a glance Tracyâs way. Could Chad tell Tracy knew who he was?
Would it matter if he did?
CHAPTER THREE
S OMETHING DIDN â T SMELL RIGHT .
And it wasnât the Poop Monster.
Everyone was suddenly too nice. Too kind. Too helpful.
Had someone researched who he was? The only one heâd seen using a cell phone was Tracy, and no one was paying attention to her. She had a tendency to talk slowly and hesitate over her words. Was that why the mayor had snubbed her? Was that why she lived in such a far-flung location?
The need to defend Tracy rose like smoke from a struggling flame. With a puff of exhaled air, he ignored it.
âMayor Larry will drive with you to the B&B,â the short, spritely old woman was saying. Her name was Aggie or Agnes or something.
âNo need to trouble the mayor. Tracy can show me.â Had Chad just said that? He glanced at the coffee barista. He had indeed.
Tracy sported a horrified look. She skimmed her hand over a bakery case. âIâm working.â
âIâll cover for you.â Eunice leapt to her feet without so much as a quiver of her purplish-gray curls.
âBut...â Tracy glanced at each resident in turn.
âYou forgot my lumbago, Agnes.â Larry reached for his back. âItâs why I walk nearly everywhere.â
âSorry, Tracy. Weâve got a game
Stephani Hecht, Amber Kell
William R. Forstchen, Newt Gingrich