The next day, the robbery still hasn’t been reported, despite someone seeing something fishy at the jewelry store, and despite the cops going to talk to Eleanor’s aunt after I gave Jared my tip.

Why didn’t she report anything missing?

I took quite a few items. Enough to notice, for sure.

Am I losing my mind? Was it all a dream? It couldn’t have been. Mrs. Olsen and Miss Viola saw me, and that part was reported.

This is unacceptable. I’ve been lucky to buy a couple days from my parent’s machinations, but they aren’t going to wait much longer.

I don’t want to go back to the scene of the crime, so instead I go to the library to dig for intel.

“Hey.” I find Eleanor restacking books in the historical fiction section.

“Hey, you.” She looks different, less buttoned-up perfection. Her hair isn’t pulled back in her normal severe style. Instead, her blond waves are flowing over her shoulders, reaching nearly to the middle of her back. I didn’t even realize her hair was so long. She’s wearing her normal prim outfit but no pearls, and she’s even got on lip gloss.

“You look nice.”

She flushes a little. “Troy likes my hair down,” she says, fingering a strand. “What brings you here?”

“Jared said we’re all going to the gala and I wanted to ask you if you had to be there way early before the event? I thought maybe we could all go out to dinner together first somewhere nice since we’ll all be dressed up.”

“That would be awesome, but yeah, I have to be there about an hour before it starts to make sure all the vendors and everything check in on time, and I think we’ve hired Ben for the bar so he’ll probably have to be there, too.” She frowns.

“Well, that’s okay, maybe some other time.”

I totally knew it wouldn’t happen, but I needed some kind of excuse to talk to Eleanor so I could casually bring up her aunt.

“Oh hey, I met your aunt the other day at the jewelry store.”

It feels so scripted to me, but Eleanor doesn’t seem to notice. “Aunt Pearl is the best. I’ve been helping her at the store when I can on the weekends, and sometimes after work.”

“The store’s been that busy?”

“Not really. But, you know, she’s getting older and she keeps forgetting things.” She shakes her head with a smile. “The other month she didn’t pay the power bill and they almost shut it off. I found a whole stack of unpaid invoices in the desk drawer of her office.” She sighs. “We’re a little worried we’re going to have to shut the place down soon if she gets worse. I had to redo her entire accounting . . .”

Eleanor keeps talking, but inside I’m dying. How am I supposed to pull off a robbery if the victim can’t even recognize she’s been robbed?

“Are you going to her store anytime soon?” I ask.

She grimaces. “I wish I could, but the preparations for the gala are taking up my whole life. Mrs. Smithson—the head librarian—should be helping me more, but she’s having hip surgery in two weeks so everything has been falling to me. Although the Hamptons have been a huge help.”

“I bet they have.” I clench my jaw against a more sarcastic retort, inwardly screaming.

“The problem is they’ve been focused on obtaining the donors, not the back-end paperwork. Which just keeps growing.”

Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen them since my little visit to their house the other morning. I mean, I’ve been avoiding them for sure, but they seem to be able to find me when they want anyway. They’re probably preparing for a counterattack.

“I can help, too, if you need anything.”

“Really?” Eleanor’s face brightens. “That would be amazing. We’ll definitely need help organizing the donations and keeping records of who is pledging what and all that. You would be a lifesaver, Ruby.”

“It’s no problem. I have to balance the books all the time at the shop, so I’m good at it. Let me know when you need me and I’ll be here.”

Plus it might give me access to some of my parents’ information and this scam they’re running. There has to be a way to get the money back to the people of Castle Cove once this is over.

But my current problem is more pressing than this farce of a charity ball. Someone needs to report the theft, and it can’t be me.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

I walk home, my thoughts buzzing. As I turn the corner by Mr. Bingel’s house, I’m stopped in my tracks.

There’s a sleek black sedan parked directly in front of Ruby’s.

My heart stops for a long second before restarting in double time. Wait, it’s not a Mercedes.

Is Ruby back? She’s not due for nearly a month.

I duck behind a hedge and peer carefully through the leaves of the bush.

It’s not Ruby. The owner of the sedan is standing on the porch, knocking at the door. The tall figure is dressed in a suit, his jaw angular and familiar.

It’s Jackson Murphy, the accountant.

Crap. He never called me back after I returned his voicemail. I assumed it wasn’t important. Except now he’s here. Why is he here? What does he want? What could possibly be important enough to warrant a visit all the way to little Castle Cove?

I step out of my hiding place to find out, but I’m too late. Before I’ve made it more than a couple steps, he jogs back to the car, slides in, and pulls away.

“Were you playing hide-and-go-seek?” a little voice asks.

I jump a foot in the air. “Gary. You scared the crap out of me.” I press a hand to my chest.

His mouth drops open. “You said crap,” he whispers.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “That’s all right. Sometimes, when we’re driving with Mr. Bingel, he calls people jack rabbits.”

I nod. “It’s easy to get angry while you’re driving.”

“Do you want to play hide-and-seek with me?” His eyes are wide and innocent and I can’t possibly say no.

Thirty minutes later, I jog up the front steps to find a note taped to the front door.

Charlotte, it reads. I have business nearby, but I’ll be back in town next Saturday. Hopefully we can chat then.

It’s signed with his initials.

Saturday.

The day after the gala.

I rub my head with one hand and crumple the note with the other. I don’t have time for this. That’s less than a week away.