The Book in Bellhallow

Laura Collins glanced once again at the folded over newspaper in her hand, the one that currently withstood the pressure of the immense force she unknowingly exerted upon it, and re-read the listing for the umpteenth time.

Kathleen Brown

5/1/1989 - 4/28/2023

Kathleen Brown, born on May 1st, 1989, found missing and presumed dead as of the 28th of April, 2023, is preceded in death by her parents, Tracy and George Brown, and brother, Thomas Brown. She is survived by two aunts, Sarah Blackwood and Marla Brown, an uncle, Christopher Brown , and several nieces and nephews. Kathleen arrived in Bellhallow in 2010 and resided here until vanishing sometime during the final week of April, 2023. Though known to be a secluded and introverted personality, Emily Charlan, Frank Pilter, and Mary Elkins held a special place in her heart; she frequented their establishments commonly. Kathleen Brown had a penchant for environmental care and would often be found walking the beach to collect trash during and after peak visitor seasons. Her work was obscure, remote and within the field of design. Her semi-frequent appearances and kind services for the community will be missed. A Celebration of Life will be held on May 2nd, 2023, graciously sponsored by Mary Elkins, at her Bookstore, The Nook, located at 21168 Sparrow St. Suite A, Bellhallow, CA, from 1-4pm.

These weren’t her preferred kind of cases, missing persons, presumed dead. They did often seem cut and dry, especially on paper, but she knew better, and the bureau knew she knew better. It wasn’t her fault the truth would frequently leech out, snaking its way to find her, and urging her to pursue the trail that no one else could sense. It felt like a responsibility to her. Since she could do this, gift…shouldn’t she use it? Once the Bureau of Supernatural Occurrence and Conclusion had found out about her abilities for solving these oddities, the way she could fill in the gaps on stories that just seemed…incomplete – she’d been snatched up and made their ‘closer’ of sorts.

The Nook, 21168 Sparrow St., Laura checked the paper and then the address on the building, then the suite number on the building, and back to the paper, Suite A.

Whatever had happened to Kathleen, Laura knew ‘presumed dead’ had been a hasty assumption. Though anyone that knew her or lived and worked with her might not have any inkling, Laura felt the invisible draw; a tethering feeling of unfinished business that pulled her along.

Looking through the large front window, Laura watched a woman behind the counter taking payment from a customer. The woman had adorable short curly hair that bounced with her movements, and a smile that spanned the width of her face. Her aura radiated the warmth of bright springtime flowers and green meadows, and Laura sighed. Time to dive in, no more lollygagging.

Laura waited until the tail end of 4pm, catching only the conclusion of the Celebration of Life. Experience had taught her it was best to be wary walking into these sorts of situations, and less attention meant less risk. She saw her opportunity when a small group leaving the premises ambled their way through the door. The bell cheerily dinged their departure while they chatted in somber tone, and Laura slid behind them to snag the door, scooching her way inside.

The sounds of outside faded and only the hushed and infrequent segments of conversation could be heard from what must be just a handful of people that remained. Laura took a deliberate stride towards the first aisle of books, past several plush looking chairs, and disappeared down the tall length of packed shelves. She noticed how inviting and comfortable the place felt. Tavernesque signs stuck out from the books intermittently, indicated genre specific section breaks, and paintings were hung in abundance wherever wall space permitted. Well lit, the bookstore felt warm and enticing, ‘comfy’ had been the first thought that came to mind.

Amid the row of books, she heard people conversing in gentle tones, and paused to listen.

A man’s voice met her ears first, sounding grateful but cracking with emotion. “It was just really nice of you to help organize and set all of this up, is all.”

“Oh don’t think anything of it, I knew Mary would want to do it if the idea was sent her way, and lord knows there was no way I’d let you host such a morbid affair. It’s already enough that she’s just gone, how are we, how are you supposed to just…put this behind you? It’s so…unreal. I mean she was just over at your place last week talking about that new book that she’d picked up, and now it’s the only personal item they find? Not even her purse? Or her keys?”

A wet sniffle and rough throat clearing were the only response the woman received.

“I’m sorry,” she went on, there was a long pause before she continued. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I know it’s not fun to keep talking about these things, it’s just such a shock, I just can’t belie- “

He stopped her, “Past five now, maybe we should head out…”

A quiet pause, broken only by more sniffling, before she finally replied, “Right. Right, well, let’s go say goodbye to Mary then.”

Laura heard them walk towards the front of the store and continued her way down the row. Something in this bookshop hid the secret of where Kathleen had disappeared to, and Laura would find it. The conversation she’d overheard further fueled her suspicions that it would likely be a book, probably the very book Kathleen had read before going missing, but time would tell.

The back of the bookstore proved fruitless. Briefly, when she’d entered the shop, she’d felt a spark of energy, like static in the air, the kind that raises the hair on your neck when you stand close enough. Back here she felt nothing and continued around the aisle into the next row.

Her ears picked up hushed goodbyes at the front of the store, and once again the small lilting bell chimed their departure, and the conversation subsided.

Just before clearing the end of the row, the hair on the back of her neck rose. Laura knew the source had grown nearer, and with each step she closed in on it.

Returning to the front of the shop, Laura took in the small round table that held a picture of a woman in her mid-thirties. Alongside the picture lay an open and wide landscape booklet, a pen, and a hardcover novel, that by all accounts, lay unassumingly alongside it. The soft, brown-eyed gaze and gentle timid smile of the picture’s occupant looked back at her, and Laura meandered closer to the ensemble.

Upon Laura’s approach, static built and the hair on her arms began to lift, just like the hair at her nape had done. Bingo.

“Oh,” a surprised voice broke her attention, and Laura looked up to see the curly haired shop attendant addressing her, “didn’t realize anyone else was still in here. I’m closing up for the evening, sorry There was a special event today for the town, kinda somber, just don’t think much business will happen past what’s already come through this morning.” She noticed Laura heading towards the memorial table and said, “you can totally sign the memory book if you didn’t get a chance to! Even if you don’t have a specific memory with Kathleen, just any sentiment you can share about her would be enough. She didn’t have much family that we knew of, but I know Fred will appreciate having all the kind thoughts about her when I deliver it to him at the end of the week.”

What would he say if she brought Kathleen back at the end of the week?

Laura found that her mouth had opened, and she replied before even putting a thought into it, “sure, I’ll sign it.” Ooph, and say what? ‘Kathleen will be tickled pink to see how kindly all her fellow townsfolk think of her, great work guys’?

The woman, Mary, smiled at her with the same beaming joy she’d radiated when Laura had seen her through the window, and continued her business behind the register. “Go on right ahead, I still have some things to finish back here, no rush doll.”

Laura grabbed the pen and thought about it for a moment, watching Mary out of the corner of her eye to see if her attention still faced her way.

The book cover shifted in Laura’s peripheral vision. She blinked a few times to clear the blurriness. If she hadn’t been convinced before, she was now entirely certain the book had a part to play.

Brushing her hand gingerly over the cover, a small jolt of electricity ran from her fingertips to her shoulder. So…this book is the source of all the trouble.

Laura tucked the book quietly into her satchel and scribbled a note on a page in the book of memories. She flashed a genuine smile towards Mary and gave her a little wave. Making her way to the door Laura left, hearing the telltale sign of the chime once more as she made her escape before the books’ absence could be noted.

When Mary finished behind the counter, she unloaded some boxes from the back, waited to be certain no straggling customers would come in, and closed the shop. Off went the custom large round neon-purple ‘open’ sign, and down came the curtains, to protect the front of the shop from the early morning sun. Only when she made her way around the counter, shouldering her purse and intent on finishing locking up, did she notice the memorial table no longer held Kathleen’s book.

Mumbling, “well that’s odd…”, Mary walked over to the table and noticed where the woman had scrawled in a flourish of elegant lettering;

“Hope you don’t mind my intrusion, but it would be dreadful bad luck if this were the last adventure you found yourself amongst the pages of.” The sign off, Mary found, was equally perplexing, and just as ornate with looping cursive scrawl, “here’s to finding a better end to the story, your humble servant, Miss Collins.”