“Only the really great ones. Speaking of which...” She nodded toward the next aisle.
Logan followed her.
“Here are yours.” She waved at the four books lining the shelf, numbered and tagged with the Brookhollow Library category logo. “I’ve read them all, twice.” The admiration was back in her eyes. “I just love Van and Piper.”
The detective partners in his books were essentially the main characters, though the series was titled for Van. Piper Kelly was more or less Van’s sidekick and Logan had only introduced her midway through the second book, under the guidance of the publisher. Adding in the coed working relationship was supposed to increase his female readership. “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed them.”
“Very much.” Her hand suddenly went to the pen behind her ear. “Hey, would you sign them?”
He glanced at the cast on his hand. “As soon as the swelling goes down and I can hold a pen a little better, sure. I’ll stop by again before I leave town.”
“Great. Oh, excuse me for a second.” She went to help a petite blonde waiting at the information desk, and as Logan perused the shelves, he could feel two sets of eyes watching him. By ten everyone would know he was there. Why had he given out his address?
“Um, Mr. Walters?” Kate called a moment later.
Barely suppressing a groan, reluctantly he walked over to the desk where the librarian gestured toward the other woman, who was holding a stack of novels. “Hi,” he muttered, struggling to be gracious.
“Hi. I’m Randi Carter, the principal of Brookhollow High,” she said.
Crap, he felt a favor coming next.... He waited for it, hoping he was wrong. “Kate was just telling me that you’re a bestselling mystery writer. I apologize—I barely have time to read for pleasure and I’m unfamiliar with your work.” She followed his gaze down to the books in her arms. “These are for the homeroom classes.”
“I haven’t produced anything in a while actually, so...”
“Will you be in town long?” she asked.
He hesitated. But then thought, he’d pretty much already blown his cover, anyway. Giving away more of his coveted private information couldn’t hurt. “A few weeks.” His original goal had been two. Now he hoped he could make his deadline, which was a little over three weeks away.
“Great. Well, what we were just discussing, and wondering, is if you might be available to do a school visit while you were here?”
And there it was. “A school visit?”
“Yes, for my grade-twelve creative-writing class.”
He looked from her back to Kate, the librarian, who was nodding her encouragement. “You want me to come talk to the students?”
“If you could. We rarely...okay, never...have your caliber of writing talent in Brookhollow and there are a few students in that class that show real promise. I think getting to meet you would be a great honor for them, and any knowledge you can impart to them would be greatly appreciated.”
“Oh...um...” Coming here to avoid reminders of how much he missed Amelia had certainly backfired. There were children everywhere—more children than adults in Brookhollow. The B & B and the day care next door were unavoidable, but purposely going into the school? He’d have to be crazy.
“Only if you have time, of course,” Kate said, earning a frown and a shhh from Randi.
Both women were staring at him expectantly. As if he should be excited to do his duty by the local school and support such a worthy cause. Sure, at seventeen he would have killed for this kind of opportunity. But now... These two didn’t understand that he had three weeks to write this book, finish the series that had made his name. Find a way to support his child and win back custody. Three weeks.
Why wouldn’t they stop staring at him?
Finally, slowly, he said, “I’ll be there,” wondering how he could possibly agree to this and still get what he wanted—needed—and leave Brookhollow in just three weeks
Three weeks.
* * *
“LOGAN, WHAT DOES THIS say?” Leigh squinted at the smeared scribbled ink on the back of a tiny ripped piece of napkin, stuffed among the pages of notes. She turned it over in her hands. “Isn’t this from Jack in the Box?”
“Inspiration always hits when I don’t have a real piece of paper,” he replied. “Let me see.” They were sitting side by side on the bench inside the—thankfully heated—gazebo that evening. They were making progress, and the night before they’d managed to get through the remaining handwritten notes he’d left to type in. During the day, he’d worked on more content, as well as he could. “Oh, this was new dialogue I’d thought of to add to scene three in chapter four. Thanks, I was looking for this.”
She suspected he’d forgotten he’d even written it, but she kept the thought to herself.
Taking the laptop from her, Logan scrolled back to find the spot in the fourth chapter. Then he slid the laptop back to her. “I’ll read it to you.”
“Okay, go.” Leigh popped a piece of lemon-poppy-seed muffin into her mouth and got ready to type. She turned to look at him when he remained silent. “What?”
“How are you not two hundred pounds eating all of these muffins?” He stared at her. “I mean every night we work together, you consume, like, half a dozen.”
She arched an eyebrow.
He held his hands up. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it.... It just amazes me. You must have an incredible metabolism.”
Hmm...maybe she should allow him to think she was one of those lucky people who could eat anything they wanted without gaining weight. Instead she said, “It’s my grandma’s secret ingredient.”
“Which is?”
“I can’t reveal it,” she said through another mouthful.
“Who am I going to tell? Seriously, do I look like I’m going to run out and open a competing bakery in Brookhollow?”
She studied him. “Maybe I should make you sign something.”
“Ha.” He rolled his eyes. “Funny lady.”
Leigh coughed on crumbs as she suppressed a laugh. “It’s protein powder.... Plus she uses a sugar substitute.” She pushed the basket at him.
He reached inside and took one. He hesitated, examining it. He sniffed it. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me these were healthy to eat before now,” he said through a mouthful.
“Excuse me, I hadn’t realized you were trying to keep your boyish physique.”
Now it was his turn to choke on his muffin. “Okay, let’s continue,” he managed to say.
“Ready.”
He remained silent behind her.
“What now? Time’s wasting.”
“I know, I just noticed how small your hands are. No wonder you type so slow. Can you even reach all the keys?”
Leigh glanced at him, eyebrow raised yet again. “Are we typing or not?”
“Sorry. Okay, so the first line of dialogue is, ‘Don’t go down there.’”
“Wait,” she interrupted.
“What?”
“Who’s saying this?”
“The detective.”
She frowned and pursed her lips.
“What?”