“Yeah,” I replied, steering my bike to the edge of the road. “Amanda Appleton.”
My friends pulled over to join me, and we exchanged worried glances.
“She’s headed toward the lake,” said Lucas. “What if she goes out to the island?”
Calhoun shook his head. “She won’t have time. The book signing starts in an hour.”
Hopping back on my bike, I picked up my pace, arriving at the bookstore just as Aunt True and Belinda finished setting up the chairs. “Sorry I’m late!”
“No worries.” Aunt True’s eyebrows flew up when she looked at me. “You might want to freshen up before the customers start arriving, though. You can borrow something of mine.”
I ran upstairs to her apartment. When I saw myself in her bathroom mirror, I almost burst out laughing. The swim in the lake had cleaned most of the dirt off, but my hair was sticking up every which way, and my T-shirt was torn in three places.
I washed my face and brushed my hair, then rummaged through my aunt’s closet for something suitable to wear. Aunt True and I had totally opposite tastes in clothing. My aunt was a parrot, never happier than when she was parading around in bright colors and wild fabrics. I was—what was I, anyway? A partridge, maybe? I glanced in the mirror again. Yeah, a partridge. Mainly brown plumage, with just a few understated stripes in my feathers.
I settled on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt in a not-too-bright shade of teal, and a pair of sandals that weren’t my usual style, but whose teal beads matched the color of the shirt I’d chosen. On a whim, I added a pair of dangly turquoise earrings. Stripes in my feathers, I thought, smiling to myself.
“Very nice!” said Aunt True approvingly when she saw me. “You should borrow my clothes more often.”
“Guess what?” I started to tell her. “We—”
“You can tell me later,” she said, twirling me around by the shoulders and giving me a little shove. “Right now, see if you can help Belinda at Cup and Chaucer. Things are hopping over there.”
They certainly were. I barely had a moment to catch my breath for the next few minutes as we waited on the crush of customers eager to buy a beverage before the book talk started.
“I’ll take a chai tea latte, please.”
I looked up to see Dr. Appleton standing in front of me. She was dressed in the same outfit she’d worn for the book signing on Cape Cod—the one that screamed I may have been a pirate in a previous life. I blinked. “Uh, sure. Coming right up.”
“Did you have a fruitful day yesterday?”
“Fruitful?” I tried not to sound panicked. Why was she asking? Did she know about Cherry Island and the cave?
“Successful. With your research. The Pirates of Penzance, was it?”
“Oh that!” I nodded, then busied myself with her drink order to cover my relief.
She smiled. “Wonderful. That’s what I love about research—the thrill of the hunt.”
I gave her a thin smile in return as I handed over her cup. Definitely a pirate, I thought, watching as she walked away. And not just in a previous life. In this one too.
“If everyone could take a seat, we’ll get started,” Aunt True announced.
“Go sit down with your friends,” Belinda whispered to me. “I can handle things from here.”
I made my way around the edge of the crowd to the back, where I took a seat between Lucas and Cha Cha. Farther down the row of seats, Calhoun leaned forward and waved. I waved back.
“We have a real treat for you today, folks,” my aunt continued, holding up a copy of Saga of a Ship: The Lost Treasure of the Windborne. “Author Amanda Appleton will be sharing with us the story behind her new book. It’s a stirring tale of piracy on the high seas, of skullduggery under the back flag, and of a mysterious missing treasure. Please join me in welcoming her to Lovejoy’s Books!”
The crowd clapped enthusiastically as Dr. Appleton crossed to the podium. Before she could say anything, though, the bell over the door jangled, and Ella Bellow came in. Bud Jefferson and Lucas’s mother were right behind her, holding hands. Beside me, Lucas’s face flushed pink.
“Plenty of seats down front,” Dr. Appleton told the latecomers. “You haven’t missed a thing—we’re just getting started.”
As they made their way to the front row, Amelia Winthrop scanned the crowd for Lucas. She spotted him with us and blew him a kiss.
“Ooo, Lukey-pookey!” whispered Scooter. “Mommy loves you!”
“Could you please find another hobby, Scooter?” I whispered back, as Lucas’s face went from pink to fire-engine red.
“I’m just teasing!”
“Nobody thinks it’s funny but you.”
I felt something brush past my ankles and looked down to see Memphis stalk by. My aunt’s cat loathed book signings. Too many people. He crouched under my chair, glaring balefully out at the crowd. Miss Marple, on the other hand, was in her element, making her way up and down the rows of chairs collecting pats. My aunt shooed her onto her dog bed by the cash register as Dr. Appleton began to speak.
Her talk was almost identical to the one we’d heard on Cape Cod. She told the audience about herself and her background, explained her research and writing process, and then shared the story of how she got hooked on hunting for pirate treasure, showing off the silver coin on her necklace. This time, though, when she described the Windborne’s final tragic voyage, she zeroed in on Dandy Dan.
“I’ve recently learned that the Windborne’s sole survivor may have a Pumpkin Falls connection,” she told the audience. “It’s an exciting new development that I’m here in town to explore, in fact.”
Ella Bellow’s hand shot into the air.
“Yes?”
“If there is indeed a connection, can we expect an influx of visitors and treasure hunters once the news is out?”
Ella loved tourists. They were good for business, she said, which was true.
The author pursed her lips, considering. “It’s entirely possible. Quite likely, in
