He frowned. “Are you sure the caps lock key wasn’t on? Maybe you exceeded the number of incorrect logins.”
“I know the passwords, Reed. The only way we could be locked out is if Cecily locked us out on purpose. I think you need to face the fact that she’s done this in retaliation.”
“No. No way would Cecily endanger my business because she’s angry at me. She’s not a vengeful woman.”
Except he knew she could be when properly provoked. She’d gone after Norah’s asshole ex to garner a confession and taken on Annelise purely to put her in her place. She’d said herself she had an overdeveloped sense of justice. He’d just only been aware of it in conjunction with protecting the people she cared about. Still, he couldn’t imagine her trying to tank his business.
But what other explanation could there be? The passwords didn’t change themselves. The social media content didn’t spontaneously morph from a midlist author to one of the biggest names in publishing. In ten hours, they were going to be besieged by customers who would think they’d pulled some kind of bait-and-switch.
Reed felt a little sick.
Brenda’s voice was small. “I’m sorry things turned out like this. I’m sorry I pushed you into doing something that led to her walking away.”
He sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. There was no sense in staying pissed at Brenda when the blame lay squarely on his own shoulders. “It’s not your fault. There were a dozen points I could have done things differently and didn’t. That’s not on you. Let’s just deal with this however we can."
“What are you going to do?” In the background, he could hear the shop bell jingle as someone opened the door.
He shook his head, not that she could see. “Hell if I know. Make signs? Put up fliers? Norah might be able to put something out on the city’s social media. But it won’t get everybody.” Cecily was too damned good at her job for them to undo this. And maybe that had been the point. To give him some kind of crisis to deal with so he couldn’t possibly come after her right now. Except here he was, over a thousand miles from home.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Reed Campbell,” a muffled voice said.
Brenda made some kind of eep and began to stammer. “I…um…he’s…here.”
There was a rustle and then the new voice came on the line. “Mr. Campbell?”
“Yes? How can I help you?”
A rich chuckle rolled. “Oh, Mr. Campbell, the correct question is how I can help you.”
“Who is this?”
“Dinah McClure.”
Reed actually pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it, as if that would allow him to see into his bookstore. “Am I being punked?”
“Far from it. I am here for both rescue and reconnaissance.”
Did anything this woman said make actual sense?
Evidently copping to his cluelessness, she spelled it out for him. “Cecily sent me to rescue your signing.”
“Is she a
ll right? Where is she? I need to talk to her.”
“Calm down. She’s safe. As to all right, that’s a far more subjective question.”
He sank back into a chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. Okay. Okay, that was a start. And the fact that Cecily had—even when furious with him and hurt beyond belief—sought to help him with his business, had to mean something. Didn’t it?
“Now if you’ll come on in to the store, I’ll be happy to talk more with you about all this while I sign stock for tonight’s reading.”
Aware of everyone’s gaze on him, he struggled to pull himself together. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. I’m in Greenwich.”
“Are you now?” Dinah purred. “Are you still at the estate?”
“I—yes.”
“Put me on speaker,” she ordered. “I want to say hi to Juliet.”