Grand Prize: Murder!. Vivian Conroy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ “He claims to be a reporter out for an interview with Bella.”

      Alain said, “Must be some paparazzo. His camera doesn’t have a real big lens though. It’s more like a holiday kind of camera.”

      Vicky made a dismissive gesture. “Maybe he’ll bring a photographer to the interview he wants to do? It doesn’t matter really. As long as he doesn’t bother Bella. Thanks so much for coming to see the sign being unveiled, and I’ll be in touch about dinner.”

      She hugged Diane and watched as the couple walked away, hand in hand, down the busy street.

      Then, involuntarily, she scanned for the brash Mr. Giverny again. He was outside the diner, pretending to read the menu on the chalkboard beside the entrance. He held a cell phone to his ear and was talking fast, excitedly. Probably reporting to his newspaper that he had found Bella Brookes.

      Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Bella was used to attention and judging by her determined way of handling things, she’d be quite able to deal with the press.

      After a long, loving look at her brand-new sign Vicky went back into the Country Gift Shop.

Chapter Three

      Marge had put the laptop on the counter and was working the keyboard with two fingers. Still it produced a sound as if someone was typing with ten. Marge only had one speed: full tilt.

      Claire had sat down in a chair by the fireplace with the dogs in her lap and called out that computers were a mystery to her. “I don’t trust them.”

      Ms. Tennings nodded in agreement. She sat opposite Claire with a wooden tray on her lap. On the tray were a dozen small soaps she was decorating with ribbons, each in a matching or contrasting color. “I do use email to stay in touch with some old friends in the UK,” she confided, “and I know how to pay bills electronically, but I can’t work out all the functions of such programs.”

      “Aren’t there courses for senior citizens at the community center?” Marge said as she clicked on the touch pad.

      Ms. Tennings grimaced. “Yes, but going to one of those makes me feel quite helpless. I’ve been the teacher for all of my life, you know.” She held up a reddish soap with a white ribbon to Vicky. “How do you like this?”

      Vicky came over for a closer look. “Great. I’m also thinking about some finishing touches. Maybe a sprig of lavender and herbs from the garden? I really want to make the gifts stand out so I’ll get more orders for hen parties.”

      “When are you delivering this order?”

      “Saturday morning at the hotel where the bride-to-be and her family are staying.”

      Ms. Tennings nodded. “We’ll do the finishing touches then. I can bring material from my garden as well so we have enough. Everything else is arranged for?”

      Vicky enumerated on her fingers, “For each guest to the hen party a small soap from my exclusive collection, a scented candle in a glass holder with heart decoration and a mini book with quotes, appropriate to their connection to the bride-to-be. So quotes on motherhood for Mom, being sisters for the sisters, friendship for the friends et cetera.”

      “You forgot to mention,” Marge said, “that the bride-to-be mailed us a list with everybody’s favorite color and favorite scent so we can customize the whole thing. Imagine this: Monica likes red so she has to have the strawberry-scented candle and the soap with the reddish tinge and then the book on friends. Oh no, she is a sister-in-law so she has to get the book on sisters.”

      Vicky laughed. “You make it sound so terrible. My client just wants bespoke presents.”

      Marge grimaced. “I’m used to bulk orders. If you had ever washed the outfits for a Little League team, you’d know what I mean.”

      Vicky laughed even harder. “So Kev made the promise to the trainer and you are doing all the work?”

      Marge sighed in resignation. “They are also coming to our place to eat after training. I’ll be making about a hundred pancakes.”

      Vicky cringed. “Then I’d rather do the hen party order. Each to his own, right? What on earth are you doing anyway?”

      “I’m using Bella’s cover with the London skyline because it’s so familiar. Then all I need is some catchy text. For the posters, to advertise the scavenger hunt.”

      Vicky and Ms. Tennings came to stand by Marge’s side as she put pictures in place and added text.

      SEE BRITAIN AND DIE author Bella Brookes

      signs at the Glen Cove Community Center.

      Be there for a chance to win a trip for two

      to that capital of crime

      LONDON!

      “How’s that?” she asked, staring at the screen in concentration.

      Vicky whistled. “Where did you learn to make things like that?”

      “The library needed promotional material last year, and I offered to make it. You can hire someone for it, but you know how we are budget-wise. So I taught myself all I know. I’m not too hot on courses either where the computer whiz makes you feel like you can’t keep up. Now I can make as many mistakes as I like and repair them without anyone looking over my shoulder.”

      Marge grinned at Ms. Tennings, then turned to Vicky again. “Anything you don’t like about this design? I can still change the font size for instance.”

      “Yes, maybe we should put the date and time in a different font. Or maybe even in a different place on the poster? To draw attention? If people walk past it, they don’t have much time to grab the essentials.”

      “Right. Where would you like it? How big?”

      Vicky leaned over and pointed out a few more things that Marge changed with a mouse click or two.

      After all changes were done and the end product fully approved, Marge printed off one full-color version on the store’s printer and handed it to her with a bow. “Your master copy, ma’am. Multiply it at the Joneses and we can spread it around town.”

      Claire sat up already, eager to do her part. “I’ll take some posters along for Marjorie’s B&B and the fishmonger. I’m picking up dinner there anyway.” She brushed the head of Mr. Pug, who looked alert and ready to jump into action as well. “We don’t have much time to get people talking about this.”

      At Jones General across the road, Vicky was met by Mrs. Jones’ cousin, Bob, a nice-looking guy in his mid-thirties who was a favorite with the senior citizens to whom he delivered groceries. Bob was always eager to help change a lightbulb or look at a leaking faucet. He drove little old ladies out to their bridge nights or to the bank. He taught them how to use email so they could contact their grandchildren with ease or how to make a digital photo album of their family snapshots. There wasn’t a whole lot that Bob couldn’t do.

      Now, with a wide smile, he asked Vicky if he could show her how the copying machine worked.

      Acknowledging СКАЧАТЬ