A Drunkard's Path by Clare O'Donohue Read Free Book Online Page B

I was now the one with the scrunched-up face.
    “Whatever you want. Something to do with the shop, or whatever.” I could see she was hopeful.
    I stared at the wall. A mural. Suddenly I was filled with ideas—coffee cups and a New York skyline, blacks and browns and creams, with bright colors like teal showing up in unexpected ways. But when I glanced away from the wall at Carrie’s excited face, reality set in.
    “What if I screw up?”
    “You’re an artist. You won’t screw up.”
    “I’m an art student.”
    Carrie wasn’t going to take no for an answer; I could see it in her eyes. “There’s no pressure. I’ll paint over it if you don’t like it,” she said. “But I won’t have to, because it will be amazing.” She put her arm around my shoulder, and we both stared at the wall, imagining the possibilities. “Do you think you can have it done in four weeks? With school and everything.”
    I nodded.
    “Then at least something will be ready for the opening.” She sighed and took a sip from her coffee.
    Carrie was in her forties, a former hotshot stockbroker who had moved to Archers Rest, married the local pediatrician, and now had two kids. After years of talking about it, she was finally opening her own business. But her ever-present insecurities were getting the best of her. I smiled as reassuringly as I could.
    “You’ll be fine. The opening will be great, and the place will be a huge hit,” I said.
    “Well, you’re my role model.”
    At that I nearly did a spit take. “Me? Good Lord. You have Bernie with the pharmacy, my grandmother with the quilt shop, Maggie who raised seven kids and served as town librarian for something like forty years, and I’m your role model?”
    “You came up here a heartbroken wreck of a thing, jilted by your fiancé, bored with your life,” she said. “And now look at you.”
    I got up and gave myself an exaggerated once-over in the store’s window. “All I can see is that I could use a facial,” I said.
    She threw a napkin at me. “You’re going after your dream. That’s huge. When I saw that you were willing to do whatever it took—”
    “You said, ‘If that idiot can do it ...’ ”
    She laughed. “Exactly.”
    Of course I hadn’t really done anything yet, except attend one day of class. But I didn’t bother explaining that to Carrie and dampening her hero worship.

    I headed back to the shop with two paper cups of coffee balancing in each hand. When I saw Susanne out front, I was relieved. But then I saw the near-panicked expressed on her face.
    “What? Is something wrong? Has Kennette done something in the shop?”
    “No, heavens. She seems lovely. Don’t you like her?”
    “I guess. I don’t really know her. She needed a job and I figured—” I couldn’t get the last words out before Susanne interrupted.
    “That’s nice of you, dear.” Susanne pulled me farther from the shop. “I’ve been mulling this over all afternoon. I knew I couldn’t say anything in front of your grandmother, so I’ve been waiting for you to come in.”
    “There is something wrong.” I tried to wriggle out of Susanne’s grasp but couldn’t. She was holding tight.
    “No. I don’t know. I want you to talk to my nephew.”
    I stopped struggling. “The one who discovered the body?” Susanne nodded. “I’m not going to say anything. I don’t want to color your view of what he told me. I want you to listen to Richie and judge for yourself.”
    “If he knows something about the girl’s death, he should go to Jesse,” I said. I was curious, and even a little tempted to run over to see her nephew immediately, but I also knew that if I did Jesse would kill me.
    “That’s the thing that’s so weird,” Susanne whispered, as if the whole town were bugged. “He tried. Jesse won’t believe him. In fact he just ignored him.”
    I nodded. It seemed Jesse was doing that a lot lately.

CHAPTER 8
     
     
     
     
    T he teenagers of Archers Rest had no mall to