She looked at him, feeling hurt. “That’s not true,” she said. “It’s not even fair to say something like that.”
He groaned. “Not everybody is a social butterfly,” he snapped. “So just keep it under control.”
After that, she tried hard to keep her natural enthusiasm down, but it seemed even harder today. Instead of being shell-shocked and lifeless from her nearly catastrophic event up on the mountain, it seemed like she’d been energized by it instead. She frowned at the thought. Just then, one of the customers came up and said, “Hi, I was looking for a book on the history of Aspen.”
“Sure,” she said with a bright smile. “Let me show you where those are.” She walked her around to the section where the local books were and pointed out two that discussed local history. The woman picked up one and bought it. Later in the day Gabby remembered she’d wanted to look at the same thing herself. When a lull in the bookstore’s traffic came, she headed back to the two books she had pointed out to the woman. Gabby wanted one for herself but winced when she saw the price of them.
Of course, as was so very typical of the bookstore, these were thirty dollar books. She needed to find something less expensive to match her measly income. She flipped through the first book and didn’t find anything too interesting, and then, as she picked up the second one, her boss came by and said, “If you’re looking for a good book on the history of Aspen, there’s another one, only it’s about the dark history.”
“Oh,” she said, “where do you keep that one? I don’t remember seeing it.”
“That’s because I don’t sell it,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because things like that shouldn’t be perpetuated. It’s gruesome.”
“And yet,” she said, with a slight smile, “you’re telling me about it, so I can go look it up.”
“Yes, but then that’s you.”
Frowning, she didn’t know what to say to that but made a note of the book he was talking about. “Is it something we can order in?”
“Probably,” he said. “Anything like that has a great sell-through rate.”
This just made her itching to again ask why he didn’t carry it here, but she held her tongue because either he was in a weird mood or she was. It didn’t matter. She thought she’d go by the secondhand bookstore when she got off work. Seemed like the wrong thing to do, but she couldn’t afford to pay for brand-new books. By the time the end of the day rolled around, she still wasn’t the least bit tired. She had enough energy to spare that she could easily walk the few blocks over to the other bookstore.
Saying goodbye and leaving Jerry to lock up, Gabby headed out the door and down the street and turned at the corner. She’d been into the secondhand bookstore a couple times, and the woman there knew where she worked. As she walked in, Emily looked up, smiled, and said, “You’ve only got a few minutes. I need to close up on time tonight.”
“Yeah, you usually open and close a half hour later than we do,” she said. “I was looking for a book on the local history,” she said and gave her the title that her boss had mentioned to her.
“Ah, you’re talking about The Dark Past. That’s its actual title.” She walked over to one wall, quickly thumbed through several books that she had there, then nodded and said, “Here we go, one copy.”
“Oh, perfect,” she said. “How much is it?”
“Well, it’s in nearly perfect condition,” she said, “so it should be fifteen dollars.”
At that, Gabby winced.
“But, for you,” she said, “how about ten?”
“That would be great,” she replied, smiling with relief. “I can just about manage that.”
“I’d suggest you get another job, but I know jobs in town are hard to come by.”
“They are if you can’t do restaurant duty,” Gabby said. “I’m just way too klutzy for waitress work.”
At that, Emily laughed and said, “Here you go. Enjoy the book.” She handed it over, after ringing up the sale.
With the purchase tucked inside her oversize purse, Gabby headed home. The snow had picked up, and it was blustery out. But still it was a beautiful day. She just loved Aspen, almost dancing along on her way home.
As she neared her apartment, she thought she heard her name called.
You’re mine, Gabby.
But she didn’t understand what that meant.
Oh, you understood, the voice in her head said. You just don’t want to listen.
Then it disappeared.
*
Damon drove through town, heading toward the apartment that Gabby had listed as her address. He had stopped in at the bookstore at the end of the day but had just missed her. As the owner of the bookstore had said, she’d left already. He took a few minutes to walk the area and then hopped into his vehicle to give her enough time to get home. But, once he arrived at her place, nobody answered.
He waited in his car until she showed up, and, when she did, she looked quite pleased with herself. She ran through the snow, bouncy and fresh looking. He wondered at that. He hopped out and called to her. “Gabby?”
She immediately froze, a frown taking over her features, but she didn’t acknowledge Damon.
“Gabby?” he called out again.
She stopped, turned, and looked at him. He could see that she recognized him, and then she bolstered up a smile for him.
He sighed. “Hey, I’m just checking in to make sure you’re okay from yesterday.”
Immediately the fake smile disappeared, and she beamed at him. “I’m doing great,” she said. “Thank you very much.”
“No aftereffects?” he probed gently.
“No, I feel really great,” she said.
“I figured you’d be home, spending the day recuperating in bed.”
“No, not at all,” she said. “And you’re not the first one to point that out to me. But I feel fine, honest.”
“Well, that’s good,” he said, frowning. “I really expected you to have some residual effects today. You know? Bruises, abrasions, sore muscles, something. That was a hell of a fall.”
“Hey, I got a second opportunity at life. I’m determined to live it.”
“But do you really realize how lucky you were?”
“Yes. I’m trying not to dwell on the accident part,” she said, on a more serious note.
He nodded to himself. At least she understood how close she’d come to losing that life she found so precious. “So,” he said, crossing his arms, hating that he did it defensively, but finding it hard not to. “Yesterday you said that you were pushed.”
“Yes,” she said immediately. “I was. I know it.”
“Did you see who did it?”
“I already told you that I didn’t,” she said. “You just don’t like the other answer I gave you.”
“Not when it doesn’t make sense,” he said.
“Well, I can’t make it make sense for you, can I?” she said. “You’ll have to investigate and make it make sense for me.”
He stared at her in confusion.