“Maybe the new day program will open before then,” I said. I turned to Marion. “Can you text me the phone number of the person who’s involved in the group? I’d like to attend one of their meetings.”
“Of course.”
Sally brought the meeting to an end. As I stood to leave, she said, “Carrie, I’m glad you’re going to find out more about this day program for the people living in the shelter. If the group needs a place to meet, this conference room is available most evenings. They’re welcome to hold their meetings here.”
“Thanks, Sally.” I smiled at her, glad to know that she was as concerned about the homeless people as I was.
* * *
Saturday morning, Dorothy surprised all of us by hobbling into the library on crutches.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I took her pocketbook and the canvas bag dangling from her shoulder and accompanied her to the reference desk. “I thought you were supposed to stay home for another week.”
She made a face. “I couldn’t bear to stare at the walls in my house one minute more. I was turning into a shrew.”
Turning into? “Did Fred drive you here?”
“No.” She grunted as she positioned herself in her chair behind the desk. “I told him I could manage very well on my own, and he was free to go back to work.”
I set her pocketbook and bag on the desk. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“There is one thing—the books you brought me to read are in the canvas bag. Please return them for me.”
“Will do.” I set off to the circulation desk to do her bidding.
“Dorothy’s back,” I told Angela as I handed her the three mysteries and the bag.
“Aren’t we lucky?” Angela said. I laughed and turned to leave, when she said, “Hey, you doing anything this evening?”
I made a face. “And what should I be doing with Dylan still away, you on your wedding-go-round, and my aunt and uncle in Florida?”
“Want to join Steve and me for dinner tonight at that new pub? We hear they have great burgers.”
“Sure. As long as it doesn’t turn into another strategy session about wedding plans.”
“It won’t. I promise. Though we still haven’t decided on our honeymoon. We’re considering Hawaii and—”
“Surprise me!” I said, making a beeline for my office.
“We’ll pick you up at seven,” she called after me. “Be ready!”
The day moved along faster, now that I had plans for the evening. I couldn’t wait for the following weekend, when Dylan was scheduled to fly home.
At five minutes to five I locked my office door and went in search of Smoky Joe. I found him lounging in the children’s room, receiving the royal treatment from two little girls. Their mothers were trying to get their daughters to stop petting the cat and put on their jackets as my spoiled feline purred happily away.
“Come on, Smoky Joe. Time to go home,” I said.
He ignored me, so I reached down and scooped him into my arms. Both girls sounded a complaint.
“See, even the kitty cat has to go home,” one mother said.
Reluctantly, the girls stood and got ready to leave the library.
“Goodbye,” I said. “See you all soon.”
“You’re getting heavy,” I told Smoky Joe as I positioned him over my shoulder. I walked past the reference desk to see if Dorothy needed any assistance, but she had gone for the day.
Chapter Eight
“So, when are you and Dylan thinking of tying the knot?”
“Steve!” Angela punched her fiancé’s shoulder. “You don’t say things like that. Not appropriate.”
“Sorry, Carrie,” the unrepentant Steve said to me. He turned to Angela, “Do we add that to your very long ‘not appropriate’ list?”
“We do.”
I gazed across the table at the two of them, grinning at each other like two people madly in love. They were madly in love, and the upcoming wedding was putting them in full romantic mode. They were both tall and slender with dark curly hair and flashing brown eyes and would make a handsome couple when they exchanged their vows in front of friends and family in a few months.
I sipped my beer then declared, “You guys will have beautiful children.”
“Carrie!” Angela admonished me. “Now you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
I grinned and bit into my avocado cheeseburger. “But to answer your question, Steve, Dylan and I have no plans to get married any time soon. We just started going out in late November, and we’ve been apart most of the time since then.”
“But he’ll be starting up his own agency soon—right here in town,” Angela said. “Then you can see each other as often as you like.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Do you want to get married?” Steve asked, suddenly serious. “I mean, not everyone wants to these days.”
An image of Julia and Randy popped into my head. “Of course I do. And I’d love to have kids. But not right now.” I grimaced. “My parents’ marriage wasn’t a happy one. I’m only now finally getting away from its impact on my life.”
“Think of your aunt and uncle, how happy they’ve been together,” Angela said.
I smiled. “Coming to Clover Ridge last May and living with them was a rebirth of sorts. As for Dylan and me—we’ve lots going for us, but we’ll have to see what unfolds.”
Our conversation turned to other topics.
“Fran told me about your meeting this morning about the homeless,” Angela said.
“It’s a tough situation for the library, but even tougher for the people who end up sleeping in a shelter. I did some research this afternoon. Many of them have mental issues or addiction problems.”
Angela shivered. “Then there are folks like Doris and Henry Maris. How can people like them manage to shut their eyes at night in a place like that?”
“Shelters can be dangerous places,” I agreed. “And Henry is becoming senile if he isn’t already. He needs care and attention.” I made a mental note to discuss the Marises with Uncle Bosco as soon as he and Aunt Harriet returned home. Hopefully, he’d have an idea, some way to help them.
The waitress came to clear the table and asked if we’d like to see the dessert menu.
“Of course!” Angela said before I could object.
We ordered two desserts to share—a slice of chocolate pecan pie and a serving of chocolate bread pudding. I hadn’t planned to, but I ended up eating at least my third of each.
When the bill came, Steve insisted on treating me. He winked at me. “You’re my Angie’s bestie, which means now you’re my bestie too.”
I thanked him and hugged them both. We drove home, chattering about nothing important. I arrived back at my cottage feeling cared for and befriended—a relatively new feeling for me and one I cherished. I called Dylan and went to sleep early, dreaming of a dessert party in the library. Not a bad idea for a special occasion!
I spent Sunday morning going through email and straightening up the cottage. There wasn’t much for me to do since Mrs. C, who cleaned Dylan’s manor house, also cleaned the cottage and changed the linens. She also ran my clothes through the washer and dryer, which she then folded and put away in ready-to-wear condition. All of these indulgences left me few chores to see to besides shopping for food, making meals, and looking after Smoky Joe.
Marion texted me her neighbor’s email address, and I shot off a message to the woman, saying I’d heard about the plans for the day program and would love to attend the group’s next meeting. I included my cell phone number. Five minutes later, my phone’s distinctive jingle sounded.
“Hi, Carrie. This is Reese Lavell, Marion’s neighbor. I’m so glad you’re interested in the day program project we’re calling Haven House. We sure can use more volunteers.”
“Hi, Reese. I am interested in attending your next meeting. When will that be?”
“We’d planned to meet next Thursd
ay evening in the house itself, but it turns out the town says we can’t because of health and safely rules.”
I grinned. For once things were working out well. “We could meet in the library. The conference room holds about twenty people.”
“That would be great! We’ve numbered between fourteen and seventeen at the two meetings we’ve held so far.”
“The library closes at nine thirty.”
“In which case, we should start at seven thirty. I’ll notify the others. Thanks so much, Carrie! You’ve been a big help already.”
“See you next Thursday evening,” I said, pleased that the library was able to offer its services to a worthy enterprise like Haven House.
* * *
I was feeling cheerful Monday morning as I lifted Smoky Joe’s carrier from the car and brought him into the library. The sun was shining, there was no snow in the week’s forecast, and Dylan had called the night before to tell me he’d be flying home late Friday afternoon.
As soon as I released Smoky Joe, he dashed off to visit with patrons. Or to beg for a treat in the coffee shop. He was definitely gaining weight, and I suspected that Katie and some of her customers were feeding him. Maybe I’d ask Evelyn to observe him and tell me who the guilty parties were so I could ask them politely not to feed the cat. I smiled. How Evelyn hated to spy—as she put it—but I’d stress the fact that I was concerned about the little fellow’s health.
I wasn’t ready to settle down to work, so I decided to stop by Sally’s office to tell her that the group initiating the day program for the homeless would be meeting in our conference room Thursday evening and that I planned to attend. As I walked across the reading room, it occurred to me that once the program went into effect, the group could set up a liaison with the library. We could send them some of the books, magazines, and tapes that we were discarding instead of selling at our annual book fair.
I raised my hand, about to knock on the door, when I became aware of shouting coming from inside the office. First one woman’s voice, then another. Sally and Dorothy were arguing, but I couldn’t quite make out the words. I stepped back as the door flew open, and Dorothy stormed out—as quickly as one could exit on crutches.
“What was that all about?” I asked Sally.
She shook her head. “That woman! She’s a menace to everyone she knows.”
“Oh.” Clearly, she wasn’t going to tell me why they had been arguing.
“Did you want something?”
I gave a start. It wasn’t like Sally to be so brusque. “I wanted to tell you I contacted Marion’s neighbor about the day program being set up for the homeless. They’ll be meeting here next Thursday night, unless there’s a problem.”
Sally turned to her detailed schedule stretched across her bulletin board. “No problem,” she declared.
“Thanks. I’m planning to attend. I have some ideas how the library could help out with this project.”
“Good thinking. I look forward to hearing your ideas on the matter.”
I was clearly dismissed. “Okay, then. See you later.”
I headed back to my office, puzzled by what had just happened. Angela had told me that Dorothy made it her business to gather dirt about everyone she worked with. Probably everyone she knew. Before she returned to work, she’d had plenty of time to do research via her computer at home. Had she unearthed something that had happened in Sally’s past before coming to Clover Ridge, something Dorothy had tried to use as leverage to get what she wanted?
I shuddered. My job was the one thing she wanted more than anything else.
Evelyn appeared as I was finally settling down to work. Today she wore navy trousers and a pale blue sweater set. “Morning, Carrie. Enjoy your weekend?”
“It was okay. Did you happen to hear what Sally and Dorothy were arguing about just now?” I asked.
Evelyn looked affronted. “I most certainly did not. I don’t go around listening in on private conversations.”
I scowled at her. “Well, maybe it’s time that you did. Sally was upset when I spoke to her afterward. I think your niece is up to her old tricks.”
Evelyn drew back her shoulders. “I don’t feel comfortable spying on people.”
I met her gaze. “Do you remember, when I first took this position, you told me you thought you were meant to help me, but you weren’t sure how?”
“Ye-es,” she reluctantly agreed.
“I believe you’re meant to help me solve mysteries and problems that arise in the library. In the past, you’ve held back on sharing information because you were afraid that Dorothy was involved.”
Evelyn nodded slowly. I was well aware of her divided loyalties—to the library and to her niece, both of whom she loved. I needed to convince her that the library required and deserved her support.
“The library has been through a lot of turmoil these past few months and doesn’t need any more problems. I’m asking you to be observant. Be on the lookout for anyone that causes trouble.” I fixed my gaze on Evelyn. “And that includes Dorothy. Right now I sense she needs watching.”
“I will,” Evelyn said as she vanished. It made me sad that she couldn’t wait to get away from me, but I knew I’d done the right thing by convincing her to overcome her scruples about spying, especially on her favorite niece. A few times in the past, she’d neglected to tell me what she knew about certain issues that had almost prevented me from finding a killer.
I was going over the list of possible programs to add to our May calendar, when Evelyn reappeared. I was a little nervous because Trish was scheduled to arrive within the next few minutes.
“I apologize,” she said, looking shame-faced. “I must be more vigilant and find out what people are hiding so I can share it with you.” She sighed. “Perhaps if I’d have done so, we could have prevented a murder last month.”
I felt a chill as I put an arm around her transparent shoulders. “Let’s look forward, shall we?”
Evelyn cleared her throat. “As for my niece, she’s been wearing a Cheshire Cat smile all morning. You’re right! She’s up to something. I’ll do my best to learn what it is and let you know.”
“Thank you, Evelyn.”
She looked at me gravely. “You certainly have grown into your job here. Of greater importance, I consider you the guardian of the library. Goodbye, Carrie. I will get back to you soon.”
I smiled as Evelyn faded from view, pleased that from now on she’d be watching out for trouble and keeping me informed. I was especially touched by her compliment. I loved the Clover Ridge Library and was determined not to let anyone make mischief if I could help it.
* * *
Evelyn was true to her word and reported back to me a few times that afternoon. “Dorothy’s been in a good mood. She’s even smiling at patrons.”
“Interesting.”
Later she joined me on the stairs as I was on my way up from presenting the afternoon movie, to tell me that Sally had been rather short with Marion Marshall and with someone on the telephone. And that the few homeless people in the reading room were quietly leafing through magazines.
“Thank you, Sherlock,” I teased her. “I don’t need an hourly update. But I would appreciate a report on Smoky Joe. I think someone’s been giving him treats despite the signs I’ve posted saying that no one is to feed the library cat. The coffee shop’s the most logical place to start.”
She returned as soon as Trish left and before Susan arrived, as animated as I’d ever seen her. “I found the culprit!”
“It’s Katie, just as I suspected,” I said. “She has three cats at home, and two of them are overweight.”
“Nope! Harvey’s been slipping him treats—whenever he takes a break in the coffee shop.”
“Really?” I was shocked.
“He and Katie talk cat talk whenever he goes there. He loves cats but never got another after his died two years ago. Katie’s been trying to convince him to adopt a cat. She even offered to go with him to pick
one out.”
“Is that so?” I mused. “Katie and Harvey are both single. Do you think …?”
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Evelyn said as she left, a bare three minutes before Susan came sailing into work.
* * *
Tuesday morning the library opened a few hours later than usual, because snow had fallen during the night. I made it in easily because Jack Norris, the handyman who looked after the Avery property, had plowed me out as soon as the snow had stopped at daybreak. First Dylan and then Aunt Harriet called while I was getting ready for work, to make sure I was okay.
I was surprised to see Dorothy hobbling in right behind me as I entered the library from the parking lot.
“Morning, Dorothy. Did Fred drive you to work today?”
She sniffed. “He wanted to, but I told him I was perfectly fine getting from the house to the library on my own. As soon as he cleared our driveway, off he went to work, same as me.” She lifted one of her crutches. “I can manage fine with these.”
“When will you stop using them, do you think?”
“The doctor said maybe next week.” She zoomed off, as if to show me her superior crutch-walking skills.
I had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so I worked until six o’clock instead of leaving at five as usual. At home, I fed Smoky Joe and made myself an omelet for dinner, then settled down in front of my computer to check my email, Facebook, and Instagram. Afterward, I crept into bed and was deep in a mystery by one of my favorite authors, when my cell phone jingled. I smiled. Since it was close to eleven, I expected to see Dylan’s name appear. Instead, Lieutenant John Mathers was on the line.
“Hello, Carrie. It’s John. I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news.”
My heart lurched. “Oh no! Not Dylan! Or Uncle Bosco … or my dad.”
“No, my dear. It’s no one close to you. I know, you’re thinking then why am I calling you?”
“Uh-huh.” Someone died. Who died?
“I know it’s late, but can I come over? Won’t be five minutes.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll explain everything then.”
I stood on trembling legs and slipped on my robe, then walked slowly to the kitchen. Automatically, I turned on the faucet and filled the teapot to boil water for tea or coffee—whichever John preferred. I usually preferred coffee, but when it came to emergencies like this, I yearned for a hot cup of tea.
Buried in the Stacks Page 6
