“Running?” Keira laughed airily. “I’m sorry for getting your hopes up, but I’m honestly just passing through.”
Zoe gave her an intense deadpan glare. “Cut the crap. Tourists don’t buy a lifetime supply of rice and potatoes. And you could have been following the CIA’s training manual for how to not draw attention to yourself. I didn’t even see you until you were standing in front of my counter.”
Damn. She’s quick. Keira’s smile faltered, but she fought to keep her voice light. “This is going to be a disappointment, but I really don’t have any answers. You said something about a face outside your window?”
Zoe folded her arms on the table and leaned closer. It was a mirror of the pose she’d adopted in the store, and Keira had to sink back into the couch’s cushions to preserve her personal space.
“C’mon,” Zoe said, her eyes intense under lowered eyebrows. “I’m not a moron. You twitched when I asked who you were running from. Is it an ex? Your parents? Interpol?”
Keira didn’t answer. Her heart thundered and her clenched palms were sweaty. She glanced toward the door. It was close. I could run.
“Hot chocolate,” a flat voice said, and a large mug hit the table in front of Keira, making her jump. “Caramel latte. And two reasonably priced muffins that are in no way disgusting.” Marlene, the sallow barista, dropped the food on the table, then tweaked Zoe’s ear. “You’re being weird again. Stop scaring my customers away.”
Zoe glowered at the barista’s retreating back. “I am not being weird.”
You sure about that? Keira glanced at the door again. Running meant she would have to abandon her food at the general store.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry.” Zoe tilted to block Keira’s view of the door. Her face had lost the fanatical glow, and an awkward, apologetic smile took its place. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Don’t go.”
“I don’t like being accused of lying.” The edges of Keira’s voice wavered, but she managed to keep her tone even.
Zoe exhaled. “Sorry. I can get carried away when I’m excited. Is there any chance we could start this whole interaction fresh?”
After all that? Keira searched her companion’s face, but the apology seemed sincere.
“I’m Zoe Turner.” Zoe’s wide smile was back in place, and she stretched a hand forward. “Nice to meet you…?”
Keira hesitated for a second, then swallowed. “Keira.” She shook Zoe’s hand for the briefest second possible, then drew back to pick up the hot chocolate. It smelled delicious, and she was hungry enough to swallow a scorching mouthful.
Zoe leaned back into her seat and picked up her own mug, though she made no move to drink it. “Look, I don’t know your deal, but I might be able to help. I know Blighty like the back of my hand, and at least half its secrets too. Take this place. Has Beans is run by Myrtle Kennard. Her sister, Polly, owns the florist’s down the road. Wanna know what she calls it? Two Bees. Get it? Has-been and to be. Isn’t that just the worst set of puns you’ve ever heard?”
Keira couldn’t stop a smile from cracking her expression. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad.”
“Well, get this. The two sisters opened their businesses twenty years ago with money they ‘inherited’ from a ‘benevolent’ and ‘extremely wealthy uncle.’” Zoe made air quotes around the phrases. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, “Except the uncle never existed. I’ve been right through the family records—he’s fictional.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But incidentally, Myrtle and Polly are near-perfect matches for the description of a bank-robbing duo from the eighties.”
“You’re kidding.”
Zoe lifted her shoulders in a carefree shrug. “I can’t prove anything. And I wouldn’t want to if I could. Myrtle and Polly are nice people. And the bank robbers never held hostages or did shoot-outs or anything; they just passed a note over the counter demanding money, took the cash, and ran. They hit eight banks over a three-month period, then disappeared about two months before the sisters moved to Blighty.”
Keira glanced back at the counter, where Marlene was somehow pouring three coffees at once. That’s too crazy to be real. Isn’t it?
“Anyway, my point is, I can keep a secret. If you want to tell me what’s happened, I can maybe even help.”
Keira couldn’t smother a laugh. “You just shared a secret. I can’t say it’s done much to build my trust in your restraint.”
“Ah, but think about the hundreds of secrets I haven’t told you!” Zoe winked. “Yet.”
She’s ridiculous. Against her better judgment, Keira was starting to warm toward the strange, energetic woman. Taking a long drink of her chocolate, she considered how much she should share and decided on the safest option. “You said you saw something outside your window. Tell me about that first.”
“Fair enough.” Zoe shoved both muffins toward Keira. “Eat. You look like Skeletor and that guy from The Machinist had a baby, and that’s not a compliment.”
Keira made a show of grumbling about it but broke off an edge of one of the muffins. Warm, gooey sugar filled her mouth, and she had to stop herself from shoving the whole thing in.
Zoe had leaned back in her seat and was staring at the ceiling. “You were here for that crazy storm last night, right? Blighty’s a pretty wet town, but it’s been a while since we’ve had something that heavy. My whole backyard flooded. Anyway, I woke around two in the morning. It was toward the tail end of the storm, but it was still loud enough to keep me from falling back to sleep. So I turned on a lamp and started to read my novel. I was about ready to try napping again when I heard a branch snap outside my window.”
Keira’s plate was empty. The second muffin waited nearby, but she stopped herself from reaching for it. “Go on.”
“Well, I didn’t think it was weird at first; it was a storm, and plenty of branches were breaking everywhere. But I looked out my window anyway, just in time to see this…thing walking past. He was so close and looking right at me. I sort of froze. Then lightning flashed and he disappeared.”
“You said it looked like a dead person.”
“Yeah.” Zoe spread her hands. “I know it sounds crazy. And it was dark, and my window was foggy. He was only there for a second, so I guess you could argue I didn’t see him clearly…but his face was bone white and all angled and narrow and horrible. Just like a skeleton.”
“Huh.” Keira scratched a hand through her hair as her mind whirled. It was an odd description, but the idea of a man slinking through the storm, on private property, peering into windows… They were looking for me.
“And before you ask, it wasn’t a nightmare.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “That’s what everyone has been trying to tell me. But I swear, I was awake. I can even remember where I stopped reading. It was one of the steamy parts in my book; the duchess was just about to take Lord Frederick’s—”
“I believe you,” Keira said quickly. “I was just thinking. The face…could it have been a mask? Or paint?”