“Evelyn.” I shook my head. “I’d say that’s more Dorothy’s style than yours.”
“Please, Carrie! You know I’m nothing like Dorothy.” Evelyn looked like she was about to cry.
We stared at each other for a long minute.
“I promise to listen in on all Haven House conversations and continue to listen in on conversations in the library,” Evelyn said. “And to report what I hear.”
“Good!” I said heartily, but my faith had been shaken by two people I’d looked up to until now. I’d just discovered that Sally might have embezzled money from the library, and Evelyn, whom I was counting on to help me solve two homicides, could be less than kind.
* * *
I left Smoky Joe in the library while I went to meet Gillian for dinner at the Cozy Corner Café. Angela was working late and promised to check on him occasionally. So did Susan. The Café was crowded, and Gillian and I had to wait for a table. We chatted as we stood near the cash register.
“What got you involved in Haven House?” I asked.
“I was kind of floundering after Ryan and I broke up. I thought it would be nice to do something that benefited our community.”
“I kind of felt the same way,” I said. “Once the cold weather set in, the homeless started coming to our library, and some were wreaking havoc. When I heard about Haven House, I thought it was great that a group of residents were generous enough to want to set up a daycare center for people in need.”
Gillian shot me a knowing look. “Of course the word is out that these very same residents will be making a bundle of money under the guise of their act of charity.”
The hostess beckoned to us and led us to a table near the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” I asked when we were seated.
“To start with, they wrangled it so that a state agency supplied a handful of cash to help pay for the place. And the fundraiser at the Clover Ridge Country Club will bring in lots of money—more than the cost of the renovations. So will the extravagant fundraisers in the works.” Gillian raised her eyebrows. “Then there’s talk of Haven House being used for other activities.”
“What other activities?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.
Gillian waved her hand. “High-stakes card games, for one.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
Gillian laughed. “Carrie, you look like I just told you there is no Santa Claus. Why do you care how Haven House is used at night? Those big money card games take place all over. What does it matter if a few take place at Haven House? As for their glamorous fundraisers—lots of rich people are happy to attend. They get a nice tax write-off and an evening of entertainment. Nothing in this world is free, and if that’s what it takes so the homeless in this town can have a daytime place of their own, then we can do our part and look the other way.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I was glad that Evelyn had promised to observe the activities planning committee meeting, because I had difficulty keeping my mind on track. I sank back in one of the conference room’s well-padded leather chairs and considered what a terrible judge of character I’d turned out to be. I was fool enough to take people at their face value when their true natures were more devious. Sally and Evelyn had murky secrets, and now Gillian couldn’t care less what illegal activities went on in Haven House when the homeless people were gone for the day.
Maybe everyone had murky secrets, and I was naïve to assume that the people I cared about were as upright and honest as I believed them to be. Maybe everyone had a dark side but put on a fake front for the public. After all, my father, who had been a thief for most of his life, was charismatic and loving, despite his thieving ways.
“What do you think, Carrie? You haven’t said much this evening.”
I jerked to attention. Reese Lavell was smiling at me from the other end of the table. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Could you please repeat the question.”
“It’s not a question, exactly. We were discussing what electronics to buy for the Haven House people. We’ve agreed to put a TV in at least three of the rooms and a computer or two in another.”
“And they’ll be well secured so no one can walk off with them,” said one of the two men present.
“The library will be happy to contribute books and magazines,” I said, “as well as some older CDs and DVDs—as long as DVD players and stereo systems are provided.”
“We’ll have to get a few of those too,” Reese said.
“I think it would be nice if we brought in cookies from time to time—to serve with coffee and tea,” Francesca said.
“Which brings up an important question: Who will be overseeing the activities?” Gillian said as she glanced at me. “The library’s had their problems with some of these people.”
“I suppose we’ll have to raise money to pay people to run the place and supervise,” the other man said.
“We hope to get a counselor here part time from the health department,” Francesca said. “And some of us can volunteer to spend a few hours a week helping out.”
“That will be difficult for those of us who work during the day,” Gillian said.
Having made my offer, I tuned out. The more I thought about Haven House, the more I agreed with Uncle Bosco. Haven House, by its very nature, was bound to have problems. And if Gillian was right about the evening activities, it would only be a matter of time before they were discovered. And when they were, the entire project might go down the drain.
Reese finally brought the meeting to a close. “Thank you all for coming. You’ve come up with wonderful suggestions and raised very important questions that I’ll be sure to bring to the attention of the board.”
The six of us got to our feet and began bidding one another good night. Francesca made a big show of hugging us all as we were leaving.
“She thinks she’s our hostess,” Gillian murmured.
I laughed and started gathering up coffee cups for Susan, who would be coming by to clear the room of debris as soon as she realized the meeting had ended.
Gillian and I hugged good night.
“I’ll call you Saturday when I’m leaving for the country club,” I said. “This way we’ll arrive close to the same time.”
“Good idea,” Gillian agreed. “I’d feel like an idiot, standing around with no one to talk to.”
I slipped on my parka and reached for my pocketbook. I had to skirt around Francesca because she was hugging her husband, who had just made an appearance, in the most theatrical manner. Oh no! What’s he doing here? Next to Gerald stood Ernie Pfeiffer.
“Well, hello, Carrie Singleton!” Ernie greeted me. “So nice of the library to open its arms to help our Haven House project.”
Our Haven House project? “Of course,” I said, relieved that my voice didn’t betray my agitation. “It’s a wonderful venture for the benefit of the community.” I hope. “I had no idea you were involved.”
He smiled dismissively. “Only in a small way.”
Gerald, who had released himself from his wife’s embrace, patted Ernie’s shoulder. “Let’s give credit where credit’s due. Ernie here is one of our biggest contributors.”
“How nice.” I smiled at them both and wished them a good evening.
“We hope to see you at the next meeting,” Gerald called to me. “Next week. Here, if it’s all right with your boss.”
I drove to my cottage, my nerves jangling like a loose bicycle chain. Gerald Benning and Ernie Pfeiffer were both involved in the Haven House project! Gillian had said there were rumors that the project was a front for criminal activities. Now that I knew Ernie Pfeiffer was a contributor, I was certain of it. Which meant Gerald was crooked. I shook my head in disbelief. Was the whole world on the take?
At home, I fed Smoky Joe a late dinner and made myself a mug of hot chocolate, something I only drank when I needed comfort. My world, which I’d believed to be warm and caring, was looking pretty bleak and corrupt. I was surrounded by every kin
d of deceit. Even Evelyn was capable of spite. I wondered what sinister secret Harvey Kirk was hiding. I’d always thought he was a nice person, but how well did I know him? The fact that he was on Dorothy’s list meant he’d done something reprehensible or illegal.
I changed into my nightgown and slipped into bed with the book I’d been reading. My cell phone jingled. I reached for it eagerly, hoping it was Dylan. The meeting he’d had to attend that night must have finally ended.
“Hello, Caro, honey. I hope I’m not calling too late.”
“Oh, hi, Dad.”
“You don’t sound very happy to hear from me.”
“I am! Really. It’s just that I thought you were Dylan.”
“I just left him.”
“You were at his meeting?”
“I was. I told Dylan I’d be calling you tonight since we haven’t talked in a while.”
“How’s the job? You still like catching thieves instead of being on the other side of the fence?”
My father laughed. “The truth? I love it! I helped Dylan out on his last case. Ask him—I figured out every one of the perp’s moves.”
Perp? My father’s beginning to sound like a cop. “I’m glad you’re no longer in your old business.”
“Naw. That’s all in the past. I’m glad to be on the right side of things, for a change.”
“I wish I were,” I said.
“Why? What’s going on, Caro?”
I sighed. “Nothing. Everything. I’m finding that people aren’t who they claim to be. They all have bad sides. Secret sides. Even this project I’ve gotten involved with—Haven House. It’s supposed to be a place where homeless people can spend the day, but the people funding it are planning to use it to make lots of money for themselves.”
“Does John Mathers know this? Let him do the investigating.”
“Good idea, Dad. I’ll call John and tell him what I know, but it’s more than that.”
I told my father about finding Dorothy’s list of people she’d been blackmailing. “Some of the people on the list work in the library. Which means they must have done something dishonest.”
“So?”
“So?” I was shocked. “Maybe they stole—or worse. Who knows what they’ve been up to? It makes me realize I’ve been naïve to think that people are basically good.”
“Caro, honey. People are basically good. I know it sounds strange coming from me—but most of them are basically honest. Everyone’s done something they’re ashamed of at one point in their lives. Don’t give up on a person because of one or two mistakes.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Hey, kiddo. You didn’t give up on me.”
“That’s true,” I said.
I heard a woman’s voice in the background.
“Good-night honey. We’ll talk soon,” my father said.
“Who’s there with you?” I asked.
Too late. He’d disconnected.
I found myself smiling and shaking my head at the same time. My father had managed to calm me down and improve my outlook on everything. I fell asleep shortly after our conversation. I woke up at my usual time, to see snow falling. Sally called to tell me that, because of the weather, the library would be opening at eleven instead of nine o’clock.
Great! I jumped out of bed, fed Smoky Joe, then made myself a batch of blueberry pancakes with real Vermont maple syrup. Highly energized, I hummed as I put the kitchen back in order and went outside to clear off my car. Jack Norris was plowing the private road that coursed through the Avery property. I waved to him as he drew closer to the cottage.
“Thanks for clearing the road so I can get to work,” I said.
“Are you kidding!” He shot me a grin. “The boss called me last night. Said to make sure I was out plowing as soon as the snow stopped so you could be at work on time.”
I went inside and called Dylan. He picked up immediately.
“Hiya, babe. I was just about to call to see how you’re faring with the snow.”
“It stopped and Jack did a great job of clearing the road. I don’t have to leave for work for another hour. Because of the snow, we’re having a late start.”
“Good. I would have called last night to ask about your meeting, but I was beat. Fell asleep as soon as I got into bed. Speak to your dad?”
“Yep. Sounds like he loves his new job.”
“That he does. Jim knows all the angles thieves use to pull heists and some of the places where they fence their goods.”
“He should,” I said wryly. “Does he have a lady friend?”
Dylan laughed. “He won’t say, but I suspect he does. I tried to get in touch with him a few times in the evening, and he didn’t pick up.”
“Really? Well, I hope she’s nice,” I said.
“So says the possessive daughter.”
“I’m not—” I stopped. “I just don’t want him to get mixed up with the wrong sort of woman.”
Dylan laughed. “Do you hear yourself?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “How was your meeting last night?”
I told him what Gillian had heard about the project and my assumptions after seeing Ernie Pfeiffer there with Gerald Benning.
“Now don’t go playing detective. Tell John what you heard and suspect. Let him handle things.”
“I will.” After the dinner dance.
“Sorry I’m missing the gala,” he said as if he’d heard my thoughts. “I’ve mailed the check. You should receive it today or tomorrow.”
The new snowfall gave the streets and lawns a crisp, clean look, and the reflection of the shining sun made the morning look especially bright. The library’s late opening had created a festive holiday air. When I freed Smoky Joe from his carrier, he made a mad dash for the children’s room. Marion must have been giving him special treats.
Sally was sitting at the hospitality desk. She waved me over. “How did the meeting go last night?”
“All right.”
“You don’t sound very happy about it.”
Are my emotions that easy to read? “We’ll talk about it later—in private.”
“Well, okay.” She seemed perplexed as she turned to a patron who was waiting to be helped.
Trish came in a few minutes after I’d settled down to check my email. We talked about the snow and the day’s programs. Evelyn wouldn’t make an appearance until she found me alone.
I walked around to check the ongoing programs. Despite the weather, every teacher and programmer had shown up, along with close to the usual number of participating patrons. I stopped by Sally’s office and told her of my suspicions regarding Haven House.
“I thought it was too good to be true when a group of residents decided to create a day center for our homeless,” she said. “And to think the state provided funds to help renovate the place.”
“Maybe things will turn out all right after all,” I said.
Sally smiled. “I’m glad you haven’t lost your optimistic outlook. I’ve come to depend on it.”
“Really? Lately I’ve been having some dark and gloomy thoughts.”
“Maybe the snowfall washed them away, and you’re thinking positively again.”
I wanted to run to the other side of the desk and hug Sally, but she’d think I was going bonkers. Sally was my friend, and I hated suspecting her of having done something illegal or of killing Dorothy. I was going to have to ask her some tough questions, but now wasn’t the time.
Instead of going out for lunch, Angela and I ordered in sandwiches from the Cozy Corner Café, which we ate in our small staff room. Gayle and Sally joined us. Sally was elated because all of Norman Tobin’s references had given him glowing reports. And his present director was willing to release him, which meant that our new reference librarian would be able to start work right away, on Monday morning.
We chatted for a while—about the new librarian, the snow, and our plans for the weekend—until Gayle noticed the time, and the three of them took off in
a flurry of activity. I checked the email on my phone and was about to leave too, when Harvey Kirk entered the staff room.
“Hi, Harvey,” I said.
“Hi, yourself,” he said and poured himself a cup of coffee.
He reached inside our small refrigerator for a brown bag that held his lunch and set it on the table. My pulse raced as I tried to figure out the most effective yet tactful way to question him about Dorothy.
“Did you have trouble driving in this morning?” I asked.
‘Nope.” Harvey unwrapped his sandwich and took a huge bite.
“I didn’t either,” I said. “They cleared the roads quickly. Besides, I don’t think this snow will last long. They expect warmer weather the next few days. I bet it starts to melt soon.”
“Mmm.”
Harvey wasn’t one for small talk, which made things more difficult. I smiled as I suddenly got a brainstorm.
“Did you hear the news? Sally’s hired a reference librarian to take Dorothy’s place. His name’s Norman Tobin, and he starts on Monday.”
“About time. Now we can stop filling in for reference.”
“I hope Norman’s a nice person. Not like Dorothy.”
A scowl darkened Harvey’s face. “What a bitch she was. I’m glad someone decided to take her out.” He chomped another bite out of his sandwich.
“I heard she was blackmailing people,” I said, hoping for more from Harvey, but his mouth was too full of food to answer. “I wonder how she managed to learn all that stuff about her victims.”
“Figure it out. She was a reference librarian. Research was her specialty.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I agreed. Time to leave. “Well, see you. Have a good weekend.”
Harvey looked up from his sandwich and shot me a wicked grin. “Carrie, I hope you’re not trying to find the person who killed Dorothy. Some murders are best left unsolved—for everyone’s sake.”
My hand shook as I opened the door. I stood outside the staff room, too dazed to move.
“What’s wrong?” Evelyn demanded. “You look like you’ve seen a—something scary.”
Buried in the Stacks Page 15
