"Yoo-hoo!" cooed a familiar voice I knew only too well.
I pulled my hand from Jason's abruptly, standing up so fast, I nearly tumbled down the stairs. Instantly, Jason's hands were on me again, holding me steady. I looked up at him, my heart beating faster when he gazed at me. I dared to cast an eye toward his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
"There you are!"
Lifting my eyes from Jason, the moment was shattered and I took a step away. My cheeks were already a deep shade of pink as I looked down. "Hi, Mom," I called out to her when my mother approached the base of the staircase.
"I have the coffee and tea urns in the car if you... oh, hello," she said, catching sight of Jason.
I wasn't expecting to make any introductions today, but my mother waited patiently, apparently expecting one. "Mom, this is Jason Rees. Jason, this is my mother. Nadine Cutler."
Jason hurried down the stairs, extending his hand politely. "Hello, Mrs. Cutler," he said, as she reciprocated with her hand, pumping his enthusiastically.
"I didn't realize the library was already open again," said Mom.
"It isn't," I said, taking a moment to collect our cups and the muffin bag from where we left them on the steps. "Jason just stopped by with coffee."
"You must be the nice, young man who took my daughter to dinner." Mom hung onto his hand, fixing him with a “you can tell me everything” look.
"Actually no. I haven't had the pleasure yet," said Jason. Behind him, I shook my head frantically, wishing my mother were silent.
"Ah," said Mom, blundering on. "Are you here to help with the party preparations for tonight?"
"I don't believe so, I haven’t been invited," said Jason without looking at me.
I squirmed, and the ensuing awkwardness made me wish I could climb into a book and disappear. "It's not a party, Mom, and Jason isn't here to help. He wants to close the library."
"You're the man who wants to relocate the library to a new building that doesn't leak and creak?" said Mom. "You're not nearly as awful as my daughter made out. Will the new library have modern heating?"
"Mom, you can give Jason his hand back now," I reminded her, waiting until she dropped his hand.
"I'm sure the library will be everything the town expects it to be," he said. "I'll see myself out. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cutler. Bye, Sara."
"Bye," I muttered weakly as he took off without waiting for me to hand him his barely-drunk coffee.
"He seems nice," said Mom. "Why didn't you invite him tonight?"
"Because I'm trying to save the library and he wants to close it! He will close it too if we don't get all the support we need."
My mother looked around and frowned. "Is that really such a bad thing?"
"Yes! Mom! Look at this place. It's so beautiful. It just needs fixing and preserving, not being torn down."
My mother cast a critical eye over the library. "It could use some new books too."
"We have a budget for new books," I pointed out, and not for the first time. "If you ever borrowed a book, you'd know that already."
"You know I don't have any spare time for reading. How you ended up becoming such a bookworm, I'll never know."
"It'll remain a mystery to us both," I agreed. "Take me to the urns. I'll get them set up and return them tomorrow."
"You know, maybe we shouldn’t call them urns, given the circumstances."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, some people associate urns with the vessels to hold the cremated remains of dead bodies." Mom pointed to the ceiling. "If you keep talking about them as urns, people might mistake what you mean."
"The police already took Bree's body away. They certainly don’t plan to bring her back!"
"Has anyone appeared to claim her yet?"
"None that I know about."
"How sad that there’s no one to care."
"We don't know that for sure. Detective Logan is still looking for her family."
"Is Detective Logan coming to the party tonight? He's rather handsome and still single, from what I hear."
I sighed. "What's your point, Mom?"
"You could do a lot worse than dating a handsome detective."
I rolled my eyes. "I am not even remotely interested in Detective Logan! He's very nice but no more my type than I am his."
"Oh? And what about Tom?"
"Tom is very nice," I told her, ushering her towards the door. "We've only been on one date though and it was... pleasant."
"Pleasant? Is that all you can say? Can't you think of anything else to say about him?"
"He is very nice," I repeated.
"And Jason?"
"Jason? He's..." I stopped and began thinking about him as a man. Jason was more than handsome. He was also warm, generous, and kind-hearted. His unexpected presence a few nights ago might have even saved me from Bree's killer. He also picked me up when he could have left me stranded at the roadside. Well, not exactly stranded but definitely in need of assistance. We ate brunch together and talked almost non-stop. When I was pressed up against his chest just a few minutes ago, he smelled amazing. His mint-fresh scent still clung to me. He held my hand and made my heart race.
"He's planning to close this place down," I said with finality and a wave of disappointment I wished I didn't feel. There was no point in me thinking about Jason at all. Not when as soon as he finished his job here, he would pack up and leave. I would probably never see Jason again. A few days ago, that thought would have made me happy. Now, however, it made me feel strangely heavy.
"And give you a whole new library," Mom pointed out again. "Not many men would do that."
"It's his firm, not him."
"So why are you blaming him?"
"Why are we even talking about this?" I asked. I shivered as we stepped outside into the cold.
"Because I want to see you happy."
"I am happy, except that my friend was killed, my job is being threatened and my favorite building is going to be torn down."
"Is it too much to ask if there's a second date with the other man on the horizon?"
"There might be a lunch date. We haven't confirmed it yet." When we did, I would definitely ask him what kind of business had brought him to town and how long he planned on staying.
"Did you invite him to the party?"
"Again, it's not a party. It's an event; but yes, he said he would come."
"Hmm," said Mom but this time, she beeped open the car and reached into the backseat to pass me one of the heavy urns. I wrapped my hands under it and hefted it inside. Placing it on the big, wooden console that I usually reserved for an assortment of pamphlets and bookmarks, I returned to the car for the second urn and set it next to the first.
"Thanks again for bringing these."
"Sara? Are you in there?" Candice stepped inside, craning her head around the door, and smiling when she spotted me. She held up two large grocery bags, that made a clinking sound inside them. "Ally at the Belle Rose restaurant asked me to bring these, and she also said she'll try and stop by later."
"What are they?"
"Wine! A dozen bottles! She is also letting you borrow the glasses they use for parties at no charge."
"That is very generous of her!" I exclaimed, hurrying over to relieve her of one of the heavy bags. I had only spoken to Ally McKellar a few times and she never visited the library. All I knew about her was that she returned home to Calendar to open Belle Rose after moving away years before. Her generosity was completely unexpected and utterly pleasing. "I never expected anything like this."
"When I told her about the event tonight, she said she wanted to help. Isn't it great? I'll make the snacks this afternoon and bring them over later. Shall I bring the wine glasses inside?"
"Yes, please," I agreed, nodding enthusiastically. I could hardly believe my luck. The tea and coffee would have made pleasing refreshments, but the wine and snacks almost guaranteed the guests would be very happy.
&nbs
p; "Lots of people said they'll come," Candice continued. "Jaclyn insisted on taking over at the café and I know she's telling everyone that comes in to show their support. I might have to bake some more items, otherwise we'll probably run out."
"How many is a lot?" I asked.
"Oh, everyone I spoke with!" Candice grinned. "Isn't it wonderful how everyone pitches in to support the library? Those pamphlets you and that handsome guy distributed around town really got people talking about it. I think you'll have a great turnout tonight. Do you want me to put the red wine on the table? We could put the white wine on the porch to chill?"
"Sounds great and yes, we're setting everything up on this table."
Candice added her grocery bag to the table and unpacked the wine before hurrying outside to collect her other items. My mother raised her eyebrow at the accumulating bottles. "Sure looks like you’re having a party," she said. She leaned in and kissed my cheek, and we hugged briefly. "See you tonight."
"Isn't your mom staying to help?" asked Candice, returning with several cardboard boxes stacked in her arms. She passed them to me to unload.
"She probably has someone else to organize," I laughed. "But she'll be here tonight."
"Was that Jason Rees I saw outside in his car?"
"He was here earlier," I told her, "but I thought he left already."
"Did you invite him to the party too?"
"Now you sound like my mother! No, I didn't, but my mom practically did and it got a little awkward."
"I'll bet! I know he's the big, bad villain around here right now, but I kind of like him. Although I feel guilty for admitting it."
"I know what you mean," I told her. The phone in my office began to ring and I excused myself, leaving Candice to continue bringing in the baked goods by herself.
"Calendar Library," I said on answering, expecting a patron on the other end of the line, or maybe someone inquiring about the event.
"Is this Sara?" asked the woman. Her voice had a slightly Southern accent.
"Yes, this is she. How may I help you?"
"I think you know my sister," she said, almost hesitantly. "Her name is Brittany but I think you might know her as Bree. I hope you don't mind me calling. I spoke with Detective Logan and he told me my sister was working for you when she..." The woman broke off, sobbing.
"I am so sorry," I told her, my heart twinging with an unexpected pang. News of Bree's family was something I hardly dared to hope for after the visit with her former roommate. "Yes, Bree and I worked together. I'm so sorry about what happened."
"I can hardly believe it. It's just awful. I can't imagine anyone who would hurt Brittany. I thought she had gotten her life together… and for this to happen... It's so sad."
"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you and your family."
"Oh, it's just us," said the woman. "Brittany and I haven't seen our parents in a long time and she and I weren't very close. She probably never even mentioned me. I'm afraid I was pretty hard on her for not improving her life more so we didn't keep in touch often. That affected our relationship."
"I'm sure she understood," I murmured, unsure that Bree did. I searched my mind for any mention of a sister, but if Bree ever spoke of her, I couldn't remember when. Besides, everything she did tell me was a lie.
"That is so kind of you. I wondered if we could meet? I'm coming into town tomorrow and I would appreciate it so much. I'd really like your help in trying to make some sense of all this."
"Absolutely," I agreed, knowing I couldn't possibly refuse. "When would be a good time?"
"Can I call you as soon as I get there? I couldn't find a local bed and breakfast with a vacancy so I'm planning on staying at a motel just a short distance from town. We could meet there or somewhere else if you like?"
"Wherever is convenient for you. Let's exchange phone numbers and then you can call me anytime," I offered. "I didn't get your name?"
"Angela Daniels. We don't have the same surname because I'm married," she explained. "Thank you so much for your help."
"If there is anything I can do at all, please call me," I urged her. "I can't imagine how devastating this must be for you. I considered Bree my friend."
"I am very happy to hear she made a friend. I can't wait to meet you and learn all about Bree's life there," she told me. "See you tomorrow."
I replaced the handset and leaned back in my chair. Finally, someone who knew Bree! Angela might have been looking forward to hearing anything I could tell her but I feared she would be disappointed when she learned how little I could say. My only hope was that Angela would be more forthcoming about the darker things Bree was mixed up in. Perhaps she even knew the boyfriend Bree was apparently so afraid of that she ran away. Tomorrow, I hoped to find out as much as I could.
Chapter Seventeen
"Is that where it happened?"
"Do you think the killer was still inside?"
"I wonder where the treasure is?"
I overheard the incessant questions, repressing the desire to put the owners of the whispers to rights. The steady flood of guests had initially been very pleasing. Seeing so many people show up, on such short notice too, just to support the library was wonderful, but until I actually paid attention to their comments, I naively assumed their interest was purely in saving the library. That, or to enjoy Candice's baked goods and the free wine that Ally from the Belle Rose restaurant had so generously donated.
"Why are you hiding back here?" asked Meredith. She was dressed in a very stylish pair of black trousers and a black cashmere sweater. Somehow, it made her the most glamorous person in the room. "Shouldn't you be out there rallying the troops?"
I glanced up from the glasses I was organizing, somewhat pointlessly since there was nothing wrong with their original formation. "Have you heard them?" I asked, certain that my discomfort showed.
Meredith hesitated. "Okay, yes, I've heard their chatter, but does it really matter? There will always be gossip and those that flock to it."
"But they only came tonight to gawk at the spot where a murder happened! They don’t intend to even support the library in Bree's memory. It's terrible!"
"They would probably be a lot kinder about the gossip if Bree hadn't turned out to be a master criminal with millions in loot! She may have come here rather anonymously and lived quietly but everyone in town knows who she really was now."
"Did you know someone was digging in the library garden earlier? Like Bree would’ve stashed her loot there."
Meredith shrugged. "Who knows where she hid it? It's not like any of us guessed what she was up to when she came here. I'm sure it'll be the most fascinating thing to happen in Calendar in years, maybe even decades."
I paused, reflecting on that. "I know but it doesn't make it any less... dispiriting," I settled on a word that summed up my disappointment. "I just wish most of the people came here tonight to save the library, not to speculate over the murder."
"I suggest you use the advantage, since they're here for your benefit," said Meredith. "You need to make a speech and be sure to encourage every single person to sign the petition. I can help circulate the petition for you or I can even stand at the door and pounce on people as they come in or exit."
I hesitated. Meredith had a good point. "Do you think so?"
"Absolutely! If you really want to get them to sign, stand on the staircase and refuse to let anyone pass until they add their signature."
"Why the staircase?"
"Because all these people want to have a fleeting glimpse upstairs, if you get what I mean."
I grimaced as I realized her meaning. Having done my best to hide the remaining bloodstain by sliding one of the racks to one side slightly, I shifted a small loveseat from the other end to act as an end cap for the bookcase. Between the two, I was sure nothing was still visible. Hopefully, everyone who ventured upstairs would be so distracted by the new display I fashioned by the window, they would forget about it.
It fe
lt strange to change the last display Bree had created but it had to be done some time. Putting it off until the day the library doors had to be closed would have been much worse. While waiting for Jason to bring the coffee, I'd taken the opportunity to create an ode to the town under the glass display case. Surrounding a large sepia photograph on the day the library first opened, I added local history books and a memoir a local resident had written. I left it open to the page where he described visiting the library as a child. Some old-fashioned tickets and other little mementos that were unearthed when the floors were fixed a few years ago completed the exhibit. I thought it was charming enough to tug a few heartstrings.
"That's a really good idea," I agreed, immediately doubting myself. "But isn't that shameful trickery? If they're not sincerely concerned about the library, why would they sign it?"
"People will sign anything, given the right motivation. Plus, can you imagine the outcry when the library gets torn down and they realize they did nothing to save it when they could have?"
"Maybe they want a new fancy library with pulp fiction and audiobooks and a permanent coffee cart."
"You can put all those things here! This place will always be the most beautiful library anyone has ever seen." Meredith laid a hand on my arm. "Don't let the gossip affect you. This is your event, these people are here, and you can make them help save it." She handed me the clipboard with the scarce, few signatures on the petition, and grabbed another one for herself before turning me around and giving me a little push towards the stairs. "Go now and make that speech," she directed. "And remind them all why they're really here tonight."
Public speaking wasn't my forte, which was probably why I made a career in telling people to "shh" a lot. At least, that's what I liked to joke, but Meredith was right. The evening might not have started out as I planned but I had to take advantage of the people milling around here and the chance to let them know how losing the library would affect them. If I could turn their attendance into real signatures, I might have one last chance to save the library.
Jeopardy in January Page 15
