Ten frozen minutes into the walk, I realized my purse wasn't on my arm. I knew it was still under the desk. Inside was not only the book I planned to read but even worse, my house keys! After being first distracted by Jason, and then humiliated by my costume, I'd forgotten to collect my purse before I left.
Sheltering under the cover of a tree, I looked back in the direction of the library, quickly calculating the options. I could walk back ten minutes and get my purse, and then walk the twenty minutes it took to return home, which meant I would be spending a total of thirty more minutes in the snow. Or I could continue home for ten more minutes and look forward to a very boring evening as well as an embarrassing phone call to my mom to ask for my spare keys. I sighed at my conundrum. I really wanted to read that book. The last chapter was a cliffhanger and now, there was no way I could wait until tomorrow's lunch break to find out who was stalking the heroine. Plus, taking a hot bath when I got home would certainly steam off the extra exposure to snow. More importantly though, I wouldn't have to call my mom and make her come out in the cold before enduring a lecture from her that if I could find a nice man, then someone else would have a spare key.
My mind made up, I turned back, walking double-time on my return trip to the library. Halfway, the snow stopped. The sidewalk, slick with snow and ice, was slippery and as I made the turn, I glided on the dark path leading to the library doors. I was temporarily forced to slow down as I pulled my keys from my pocket.
On the threshold, I stopped dead, slurries of snow sloshing my ankles. The door hung slightly open, and icy water was pooling on the parquet floor inside. Did I forget to lock the door? I tried to remember as I pushed it open. No, I definitely locked it! I'd been careful because the door stuck and I remembered turning the key while my cheeks still burned at the thought of Jason raking a look over me in the tight Supergirl costume.
"Bree?" I called as I stepped inside, flicking on the lights and illuminating the racks. Only Bree had the other set of keys. Perhaps in her hurry to leave, she forgot something, just like I did? "Bree, are you still here?" I called out again, louder this time.
No answer.
From upstairs came a muffled thud.
"Bree?" I called again, walking a few steps further inside. Worry churned my stomach. It was that uncomfortable gut feeling I invariably got when something was awfully, horribly wrong. Having only had that feeling a few times in my life, here it was again, and instantly recognizable. Was Bree in trouble? Had she hurt herself in the snow and stumbled back here?
I walked towards the stairs, slowly going up, my heart rate racing. I couldn't see Bree as I walked around. "Bree?" I called again, more worried now. What if the thud weren't from Bree? What if someone else were inside? Images of violence raced through my head. Who would break into the library? There weren't a lot of valuable items inside. The computer system was ancient and cranky. The grandfather clock would require two or more men and a truck to transport. The only thing worth stealing was a particularly good collection of mystery paperbacks.
I stopped at the top of the staircase and something caught my eye.
A foot was barely visible in the rare books section, and the leather ankle boot seemed awfully familiar. I admired the style several times. Rushing forwards, I kept trying to ignore my mounting fear.
The foot was attached to a leg.
The leg was definitely part of a prone body.
I stopped, a terrified cry rising in my throat. Blood pooled from a head that was turned away from me, and the tumbling, dark brown hair lay limp on the floor.
I screamed, only for it to be cut off when a large pair of arms closed around me.
Chapter Two
"How well did you know the victim?"
I looked up, blinking with the vaguest recollection that it wasn't the first time Detective Logan had asked me that question. This time, I forced the words into my dry mouth. "Not well. Bree only worked at the library for three months," I told him.
"Were you friends?"
"Yes."
"What can you tell me about her?"
"She had an apartment on Oak Street. She was twenty-seven years old, same age as me, and she..." I stopped. I wanted to say something else about Bree but when I scrabbled around in my mind for something significant to tell the detective, I realized I didn't know anything! I could describe some things about Bree; I could tell him her height, her hair, her eye color and how she liked her coffee, but I couldn't actually tell him anything about her. I didn't know anything. How could that be true? "I don't know," I said, cringing at how lame I sounded.
"You don't know anything about your friend?" asked Detective Logan. He raised a hand to his forehead, brushing back the snow. His hair was so dark red, it was a handsome shade of auburn. His green eyes watched me.
"I, uh..."
The hand holding mine squeezed me reassuringly and I suddenly remembered how long we'd been holding hands. Far longer than necessary, I thought, even if he was warm. "She's in shock," said Jason. "Shock makes it hard for a person to concentrate on any details. Sara just found her friend dead."
Detective Logan turned his suspicious eyes on Jason. The two men were the same height, forcing me to look up at them as they continued their stare-off. "And you are?"
"Jason Rees. I'm with the property management firm redeveloping the lot the library sits on."
"Uh-huh." Detective Logan gave him a long look but I couldn't decide if he were annoyed at that snippet of news or just puzzled. "And you're here… because?"
"I was driving past the library when I saw someone running out. The door was wide open and I knew it was past closing time so that was odd too. It was highly unlikely that anyone would have left the door open in this weather so I thought I should check it out."
"Did you get a good look at this person?"
Jason shook his head. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because it was dark and snowing!" Jason sounded exasperated. "I think it was a man. He was almost as tall as me and as broad, but I wasn't expecting to give anyone a witness description later."
"Maybe it's a good job you turned up when you did," said Detective Logan, shooting a sideways glance at me. I shivered.
"I guess," said Jason.
"Sara could have been hurt too."
"I know," said Jason with a worried expression.
"I didn't see anyone inside," I told them. I didn't dare to imagine what could have befallen me if Jason hadn't arrived when he did. I was sure I heard someone moving upstairs, but I was also sure now that it couldn't have been Bree.
"Are you positive about that?"
"Yes. I didn't see anyone. I thought I heard a thud upstairs though."
"Could it have been Bree?"
"I don't think so. She looked..." I trailed off and Detective Logan nodded knowingly.
"It could have been creaks in the old building or the footsteps of her killer," said Detective Logan. "She hasn't been dead very long."
A wave of nausea washed over me at the thought. Had I really been so close to a murderer? Was he still in the library when I came through the door? What if I'd been here a few minutes earlier? And what if Jason hadn't turned up when he did? I couldn't help screaming when I saw Bree's body, and that was almost the exact same moment Jason grabbed hold of me. I screamed again then until I realized who it was. He got one look at Bree before he practically carried me out of the library, comforting me and holding me close to him as he phoned the police.
That brought up two more questions. Why did Bree return to the library? And why was Jason hanging around?
"I don't know why she was even there still," I said, and my jaw started to tremble as the cold seeped through me. Jason took the blanket the EMTs draped over my shoulders and tucked it in before wrapping an arm around me. His other hand returned to lace his fingers with mine. If someone had told me two weeks ago that we would be locking fingers, I would have told them crossly that it would never happen! However, now it was strange
ly comforting. I just hoped I wouldn't burst into tears on him.
"She wasn't locking the doors?" asked Detective Logan.
I quickly shook my head. "No. Bree left ten minutes before I did and I locked up. I definitely locked the door behind me because it sticks and I had to pull it hard. She shouldn't have been there."
"Should you have been there at that time?"
I shook my head. "No, I should have been home already. But I was in such a hurry to get home in the snow that I forgot my purse. I had to go back and get it."
"So Bree could have forgotten something too?"
"I don't know. Maybe. She had her purse on her though when she left. I remember seeing that," I said, shivering.
"Did she have a key to the library?"
"Yes, she opens it every morning."
"Could she have been there for any other reason?"
"C'mon on, Detective! Can't you see Sara is in shock? I should take her home! She shouldn’t be standing out here in the cold, answering endless questions. She's shivering! She needs a hot drink right now and some warm, dry, clothes."
Detective Logan studied Jason, and then, me. "How long have you two been together?" he asked.
"We're not!" I squeaked in protest. I shivered again and pushed back a damp strand from my forehead. Despite Jason's umbrella, it could not shield us from the onslaught of snow, and my hair was dripping wet. Perhaps I should have taken up the EMT’s offer to sit inside their van.
Detective Logan looked down at our intertwined hands and nodded, clearly full of disbelief. Color spread across my cheeks. I pulled my hand out of Jason's and stuck it in my pocket. "How are you getting home?" asked Detective Logan.
"I usually walk. My house isn't too far and it's never worth driving."
"I'll drive her," said Jason. "My car is just over there." He pointed to a black SUV across the street, the only vehicle not confined by the ambulance or patrol cars.
"Just so long as you don't try to fly," said Detective Logan, nodding to my costume, which he managed to glimpse from under my coat. I suppressed a sigh as I resolved to burn the costume just as soon as I could. It was fast becoming the source of far too much amusement for the adult population of Calendar, and a total embarrassment for me, even if the kids liked it. "I'll need to question you, possibly at length, again. Both of you," he added. "Don't leave town until then, Mr. Rees."
"Am I a suspect?" asked Jason, sounding surprised.
"Should you be?" countered Detective Logan, his eyebrows rising.
"No."
"Stick around anyway," he said in a warning tone before he turned away, leaving the pair of us alone.
"You don't have to drive me home," I told Jason. I shrugged off the blanket from the EMT and dropped it into the nearby ambulance. Jason followed me with the umbrella, shielding me without being asked.
"You heard the detective. You're not allowed to fly."
"Ha-ha. Very funny. I can still walk."
"You have got to be kidding, Sara. There's a killer out there! And you want to walk home in the dark? You're already soaked to the bone and you're still shivering."
When he put it like that, I had to admit he had a good point. I did not want to run into a murderer, however unlikely that might have seemed. Then again, I supposed Bree hadn't thought it was very likely either. I glanced back toward the library where her body lay. What on earth could have happened to Bree?
"Come on," said Jason. He stepped away from the ambulance and held out a hand. I took it begrudgingly because the last thing I needed now was a face-plant onto the wet tarmac. With my hand in his, he hesitated, and seemed at a loss over what to do next. I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. It wasn't everyday that a person got interviewed about a murder. Jason probably regretted his decision to pull over and see what was wrong. After a moment, he inclined his head, and guided me to his car, placing one arm around my waist. He opened the door and closed it after me. I didn't know how badly I was shivering until he climbed in behind the wheel and turned the heat on full blast. "Are you okay?" he asked as he deposited the closed umbrella into the rear footwell.
I nodded mutely.
"Really?" he pressed, looking at me more closely.
I stared back at him, unsure of how to answer. Instead I stared at the snowflakes clinging to his eyebrows. One slid down, rolling past his eyes. I didn't realize how brilliantly blue they were until then. I shook myself. Jason's eyes weren't the topic I should have been focusing on at that moment. "Just shocked and upset and... I can't believe someone would hurt Bree. She is so... she was so nice," I corrected myself, shivering again.
"I'm sorry. That was a horrible way to die." Jason started the car, sliding past the police cars just as lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the library. The wipers were running at full speed, splashing the snow to the sides. Jason drove carefully, a little under the speed limit, and we didn't speak until he pulled up outside my house.
"How did you know where I live?" I inquired. I knew I hadn't told him and he never asked.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes!"
He shrugged. "It's a small town. I bet you know where I'm staying too."
I wanted to say I had no idea but instead, I nodded. Bree had already told me a week ago. She was picking up a couple of books the hotel employees discovered in their sitting room and she saw him eating breakfast through the big picture window. "The Maple Tree Hotel," I said. I had gone there several times. My mother took me to lunch there for my last birthday and we sat outside, beneath the famous maple trees the hotel was named after.
"I'm staying there for the duration of this trip."
"You mean, until the escrow closes on the library?" I asked, rephrasing the statement.
Jason's jaw stiffened. "A bit longer than that but yes, that's part of it. Let's not talk about it now. It's really not the best time."
I wanted to say if he were around, it was always the best time, but I also remembered my manners. He was being nice enough to drive me home while I dripped water all over his smart leather upholstery; and there was the other possibility that he might have saved me from being killed too. He was right, it wasn't the best time to argue about the library. There was always tomorrow, and every day after that until one of us won the fight.
"Thanks for the lift," I said, a little bit more stiffly than I intended.
"I'm glad you're okay," he said at the same time, our words meshing together. He started to say something else, but then stopped. He turned off the engine, his hands pausing on the steering wheel like he was still deciding if he should speak. Apparently choosing not to, he got out of the car, walked around and appeared at my door. He opened it and offered me his hand. I took it, frowning at the unexpected chivalry, and he helped me out, closing the door behind me before stepping towards the narrow path that led to my front door. Evidently, he intended to walk me the whole way.
"You really don't have to escort me," I protested but I was too cold to hesitate or stop. I just wanted to get inside. I also hoped Jason didn't expect to be invited in. I wanted to shed my wet things, run the bath, and try to banish the awful sight of Bree lying dead on the floor. Detective Logan gave me my purse but I couldn't imagine reading my book now, not after a real crime had just happened.
"I know," said Jason, continuing to walk next to me.
When we got to the door, I felt as awkward as a teenager. What was I supposed to do? Shake his hand? Invite him in for coffee and hope he said no? Offer to pay him for the gas? After a moment's hesitation, I remembered exactly why Jason Rees was in town. He intended to close the library, and nothing more. Bree's murder would probably manage to help his cause in some horrible way. He was being nice only because he had to. By tomorrow, everyone in town would have heard about the murder and collectively agree that the library should be closed for good. A leaking roof and rattling windows were one thing; murder was quite another. Plus, if he were anything less than polite to me, everyone would soon know that too. C
alendar wasn't famous for its ability to stifle idle gossip.
"I appreciate the lift and thank you for looking after me," I said, opening the door with wet, shivering fingers after stabbing at the lock a couple of times. Tears stung my eyelids and a wave of fear and shock returned in a rush. I needed to be alone. "Good night," I said, my voice shaking as I shut the door before Jason could reply.
I waited on the other side of the door, cringing at my abruptness. So I wasn't exactly warm but Jason could hardly expect me to be the welcoming committee even if he were being kind. He'd already brought me enough bad news earlier, and I dreaded to think what he might return with tomorrow after imparting this latest event to his firm. So while I appreciated the lift, and his timely arrival to the library, and waiting with me while the police and the ambulance arrived, and propping me up while Detective Logan asked all of his questions, I refused to be duped into thinking he was some kind of savior.
Or handsome.
As soon as I thought it, I pulled a face and exiled the concept right out of my head. I definitely was not going anywhere with that on my mind.
Instead, I switched on the lights, walking from room to room in my small house, filling it with light and closing all the curtains. The last thing I wanted now was darkness. The dark would only remind me of Bree lying alone on the library floor, her blood pooling under her head, and her lifeless eyes staring at something no one on this earth could see.
Detective Logan's question came back to me: What can you tell me about her?
I filled the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil while I busied myself with finding a cup and some sugar. Waiting for the water to boil, I grabbed a cookie from the jar and nibbled on it, thinking about the question that I still couldn't answer.
Bree first turned up at the library three months ago, asking about the job I posted on the notice board in the entryway. It was a job no one else applied for, leaving me to run the library almost entirely alone for over a month. Tired and desperate for any help, I interviewed Bree over a cup of coffee. She bubbled with enthusiasm about books and reading, while eagerly endorsing all the events I was planning to entice new readers and old, even throwing in a few ideas of her own. Best of all, Bree could start right away. Moving to Calendar in order to seek a new direction in her life, she said that even though she had never worked in a library before, she insisted she would love it. I was so tired and relieved that I instantly offered her the job on the spot.
Jeopardy in January Page 2
