Book Fair and Foul (Ashton Corners Book Club) - Softcover

“What are we waiting for?” I said. “Let’s go.”

GRACE TAKES OFF—JULIE HYZY

“Iknow we are here to celebrate Stephanie’s birthday, and I do not want to take any of the shine away from your day, honey, but I was wondering if we could take a few minutes to go over the final plans for next weekend.” Molly Mathews looked around the table at the other three women, Lizzie Turner, Sally-Jo Baker and Stephanie Lowe, and they all nodded their agreement.

“Good. But first off, a most happy birthday to you, Stephanie. You have had quite the year and, I say this truly, I am so happy you have become part of our book club. No, it is more than that. I am happy you are our friend. I hope this coming year will bring you true happiness.” Molly lifted her wineglass in a toast. “To Stephanie.”

Stephanie’s grin covered most of her face. Lizzie hadn’t seen her so excited since her baby, Wendy, was born the previous Christmas. Once again she looked so much younger than her now twenty years. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail showing off her new dangly red earrings, a gift from Lizzie; she’d started wearing more colorful eye makeup after the birth; and her figure had quickly gone back to a size six, as emphasized by the clingy white tunic top and black stretch pants she was wearing.

“To Stephanie,” Lizzie repeated. “I can’t imagine the Ashton Corners Mystery Readers and Cheese Straws Society without you.”

“Nor A Novel Plot,” Molly added. “You are my star bookseller.”

“Oh, stop it all now. Y’all are going to make me start crying. I don’t know what I did to deserve such wonderful friends.” Stephanie swiped at the corner of her eye before a tear could fall.

Sally-Jo clinked her glass against Stephanie’s. “It’s all true. However, I’d be cautious if I were you. Never know what extra duties might flow your way next weekend once we have you good and buttered up,” she added with a chuckle.

Stephanie waited until the server had placed the three-tier cake stand filled with fancy tea sandwiches and scones in the center of the table. “I’ve always wanted to come to the high tea here at the Jefferson Hotel. It’s all so elegant and”—she spied the dessert tray at the next table—“fattening.”

They all laughed. “But I gotta tell y’all,” Stephanie continued, “I’m so excited about the mystery fair that I’m starting to lose sleep. It will be such fun meeting big-name authors and spending the whole day just talking mysteries. I’m sure glad you decided to do it, Molly.”

“It was not my decision entirely. I would not have taken it on if the entire book club had not been so enthusiastic. Even with everyone pitching in, I had no idea how much work it would be.” She said it with a smile but Lizzie felt concerned that the oldest member was the one doing the most work.

“Is there something else we can be doing, Molly?” Lizzie asked. Not that Molly couldn’t handle it. At seventy, she could match even Andie Mason, the youngest member of the book club, in the stamina department any day. Of that, Lizzie was certain.

Molly shuffled through the papers on the table next to her place setting. Lizzie could hear the clatter of teacups threaded with the soft din of voices. One didn’t want to speak too loudly in the hotel’s Echo Lounge.

“I don’t think so,” Molly finally answered, having found the page she was searching for. “You will be able to stop by the Quilt Patch Bed and Breakfast on Thursday after school? I’ll try to get there by about two P.M. I can’t imagine that Margaret Farrow and her husband will arrive any earlier. They said they would be leaving Columbus after lunch and just take a leisurely drive over.”

“I’ll be there. You can just text me when they arrive.” She grinned as Molly frowned. Although Molly was resisting learning to text, Lizzie had a feeling that she was also secretly intrigued by the idea. Lizzie would get her on board sooner than later. “When did you say the other authors are arriving?”

“Well, A.J. Pruitt said in the evening and Lorelie Oliver won’t be there until Friday afternoon. I sure hope she arrives in plenty of time for the evening dinner I have planned. Gigi Briggs should also be arriving early Friday afternoon. That’s the four of them. I can’t imagine keeping track of any more authors than that.” Molly sipped her tea.

Sally-Jo moved the sandwiches closer to Stephanie and, after she’d chosen a smoked salmon pinwheel, helped herself to one of the same before passing the tiered stand over to Lizzie. “I’ve heard there’s often a bit of tension between Lorelie Oliver and Margaret Farrow, or Caroline Cummings as she’s known in the mystery world.”

“Really?” Molly asked. “I hadn’t heard that. Oh dear. Let’s hope we do not have a couple of divas on our hands.”

“Well they both have series with a Southern belle as protagonist,” Lizzie said. “That could put them in competition, don’t you think?”

“They do, but Lorelie Oliver has a fashionista and Caroline Cummings writes about a caterer. You’d think that would provide enough distinction between the two,” Sally-Jo ventured. “I understand they’re pretty much Southern belles themselves.”

“Now that could make things mighty interesting,” Molly reflected. “Does anyone know anything about A.J. Pruitt?”

“Only that Bob is extremely happy that we’ve got one writer on the list who has a police procedural. I haven’t heard any gossip about him,” Sally-Jo added as she tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear. She’d started growing out her pixie cut but constantly complained about it getting in the way. Lizzie secretly hoped she’d go back to the shorter style, which totally suited her small build and large green eyes and hot pink glasses frames.

“According to their promotional flyer, the three of them have appeared together before, so it seems to me that they should be able to cope. I just hope Gigi Briggs doesn’t get lost in the fray.” Lizzie had worried about adding the much younger author to the guest list but it had been hard to turn down an enthusiastic writer who made such an earnest appeal to be included.

“Well, we’ll all see that that does not happen. Isabel Fox is moderating their panel on Saturday morning and she will just have to keep them under control. Perhaps you could give her a heads-up, Lizzie?” Molly suggested.

“Yes’m,” Lizzie managed to say, her mouth full of goat cheese and watercress sandwich. She glanced around the room as she ate. She was lucky to have been able to schedule all her appointments for the morning, which proved easy enough to do since most people, she realized, have an aversion to Friday afternoon commitments. Except if they involve food. As the reading specialist with the Ashton Corners Elementary School, her days consisted mainly of meetings with students, parents and teachers. A far cry from the very chic lounge where they now sat, enjoying the ever-so-special high tea.

Trust Molly to choose something so beyond Stephanie’s usual activities as a birthday treat. In fact, Molly had insisted on treating them all. The room was full even on this Friday afternoon and the variety in ages spoke to the fact that gracious rituals still appealed to a wide range of women. The crisp white linen tablecloths, edged in a taupe trim, the plush taupe chairs, the crystal chandeliers and the expanse of window overlooking the back gardens made the setting idyllic. Lizzie realized how happy she felt to be in this place, at this time, and with her close friends.

“The food arrangements are all confirmed, Sally-Jo?” Molly asked, pulling Lizzie out of her reverie.

“They are. The Ladies’ Guild of St. John’s will prepare a salad and cold cuts buffet for lunch for the participants, and the Baptist Women’s Group at Bethany Church have a yummy menu for the afternoon tea break.”

“Now, try to visualize it,” she continued. “You’re in the Picton Hall at the Eagles Center. We’ll have the authors sitting onstage and the audience seated theater-style facing them. That should take up about half the floor space. At the opposite end of the room, we’ll set up the tables for lunch and leave them up for the break, too. It’s really spacious, so nobody should be crowded.”

“That’s excellent. And both groups will attend to cleanup?”

“They will. And they’ll supply all the dishes and linens. I think we really lucked out here.”

Lizzie snagged another sandwich before the serving plate was removed and a bone china tray filled with squares, cookies and cakes put in its place. “I managed to get some great donated items for our gift basket draw at the end of the day. And, I confirmed with George Havers at the Colonist that he’ll have both a reporter and a photographer at the hall first thing next Saturday morning. We’ll do a photo op with the authors to start and then he’ll wander around and take pictures of the attendees for a couple of hours. If there’s space, George will devote about half a page to the event in the following Thursday’s newspaper.”

“The authors should be very pleased,” Molly said, adding, “not to mention that it’s great publicity for the bookstore.” Since Molly had bought the closed store several months before, she and Lizzie had been working on rebranding the store away from the former owner and her misdeeds. It even had a new name, A Novel Plot. The fact that almost everyone in Ashton Corners knew Molly and thought well of her for her many philanthropic ventures made the task easier than it might otherwise have been.

Stephanie let out a low moan. “Oops, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, looking sheepishly at them. “It’s this chocolate thingy. It’s just the most delicious treat I’ve ever tasted. I had no idea. What’s it called?”

Lizzie looked at the menu. “That must be the Viennese Chocolate Sable. I’ll have to try some, too.”

Molly reached over and snagged the final mini vanilla meringue and placed it on Stephanie’s plate. “Enjoy this, too, my dear. In fact, all of you enjoy today because come next Thursday, we are headed for a weekend of mystery and mayhem.”

Chapter Two

The important thing was I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

ARSENIC AND OLD CAKE—JACKLYN BRADY

Lizzie pushed herself from a yoga-style sitting position on the floor, where she’d been reading off book titles to Sally-Jo, who perched on a wicker chair with the master list in hand. “What a difference a day or two makes,” she said with a grin. “Friday we’re taking tea, all posh and gentle, today we’re taking inventory in Molly’s store, dressed in jeans and T-shirts.”

Sally-Jo laughed. “We can’t do glam every day, Lizzie.”

“I hear you gals. I might remind you that the men in the book club were not included in Friday’s outing,” Bob Miller said with an exaggerated air of aggrievement.

“Am I to believe you would have actually enjoyed high tea at the Jefferson Hotel, Bob Miller?” Molly asked as she walked past the girls on her way to the front desk, her arms filled with books.

“That would be carrying togetherness a bit too far,” Bob said quickly. “Now, this here is more my style. Where would you like this box deposited?”

Molly took a moment to brush back a stray strand of gray hair that had escaped the French roll that had been a tidy hairdo earlier that morning. “I guess right by the back door, Bob. I think I’ll end up with several boxes to be tossed. I thought I’d donate some to the Bargain Bin. I like that their profits go to help the food bank. The rest will go to the library. It seems their budget is never quite elastic enough.”

“Great idea, Molly,” said Jacob Smith, from his perch on top of the ladder. He’d been busy dusting off the top of the shelves, a task that needed to be done on a more regular basis, Molly always said, though she could never quite follow through on it.

“Well, y’all know how grateful I am to you for giving up your Sunday to help with this inventory. Lizzie and I did it when I bought the store but I guess it does make sense to do it twice a year. That way, I can keep better track of inventory changes.”

“Uh, you mean losses, don’t you?” Stephanie asked. She and Andie had just finished with the children’s section and she presented the paperwork to Molly. “I just can’t get my head around the fact that people really do swipe books. I mean, they’re books, for crumbs’ sake. Aren’t all readers honest people?”

Molly patted her arm. “I’d like to think so, honey, but you never know what some people will do.” She looked around at the store walls. “It looks like we’re making good progress here. How about if I send you two across the street to the deli to pick up the lunch and drinks I’ve ordered? Then we’ll all take a much-deserved break.”

By the time the girls arrived back, bags of food in hand, Molly had cleared off the worktable in the back room. They set the dishes of food out along with paper plates and plastic cutlery.

“This is just like a picnic,” Andie exclaimed, spooning some pasta and artichoke salad onto her plate.

Molly laughed. “Without the blanket and the ants. Just grab a seat anywhere and enjoy your meals. Sally-Jo, maybe while you are eating you could fill the boys in on our plans for the book fair.”

“Happy to, Molly.” She filled her plate, grabbed a can of cranberry juice and sat on the wicker love seat in the rear of the store. “You do know it’s in the Picton Hall at the Eagles Center, which has a stage, a large floor space and a kitchen at the opposite end of the room. We’ll have chairs set up onstage for the morning panel portion of the day, along with theater seating for the audience. And it should be easy to switch it up to an intimate setting with two easy chairs, one for the author and one for the interviewer, for the afternoon program.”

She scanned the faces of the members of the Ashton Corners Mystery Readers and Cheese Straws Society to make sure they were all in agreement.

“What about someplace to sell the books?” asked Lizzie.

“I’m thinking along the right-hand wall. There’s plenty of room for a few tables and chairs for Stephanie and Andie. They’ll want to sit down in between dealing with customers. And the signing tables can be on the opposite wall, the one with the entry door. We’ll also set up the registration desk along that wall, too. Does that sound about right?”

“I think that will work out perfectly,” Molly enthused. “Do you foresee any problems, Bob? You are our logistics person, after all.”

He took a while to answer, looking like he was enjoying his food. “Nope. I think it’ll be an easy setup, which is good since it’s only Jacob and me doing the heavyweight stuff.” He grinned. “The chairs will take the longest but I’m sure we can get it all done if we get there, say, an hour before the doors open.” He looked over at Jacob, who nodded.

“Good.”

“Will all those heavy book boxes be here at the store for pickup?”

Molly shook her head. “No, I had them delivered to my home. They’re in the garage. That worked out well for Teensy Coldicutt’s launch, except for the initial glitch.” She smiled ruefully. “The back room here is so crowded already, as you can see.”

This was Molly’s first big event as new owner of the only independent bookstore in town. Molly had spent the last few months doing some rejiggeri...