“We’re sorry to have to tell you this,” Heather said. “But he was murdered, and we’re looking to catch his killer.”
Maureen dropped her shopping bag. “He’s dead?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Heather.
She helped the distraught woman to her door, and the Maureen led them inside. There was minimal seating, but they made due. Heather made sure that Maureen was seated.
“I can’t believe this,” Maureen said. “I finally meet a nice guy, and he winds up dead.”
“He might not be exactly what you thought,” Amy cautioned. “Remember how I mentioned two names?”
“What can you tell us about him?” Ryan asked.
Maureen took a deep breath. “Henry was wonderful. He was charming and funny. He had great stories. That made sense though because he was a writer.”
“He told you he was a writer?” Heather asked.
“He was a writer,” Maureen said. “Or he was going to be. He’s been working on a novel and was just about finished. It’s going to be a best seller. It’s about a woman who discovers that she has the power to grant wishes. However, it’s a big responsibility. She needs to decide which wishes to grant and which ones might only cause trouble. It’s also a character piece about how she deals with the guilt for ignoring some requests.”
“It sounds like an interesting premise,” Amy said. “But I’m surprised this guy was writing it.”
“Did he mention anyone who might want to hurt him?” asked Ryan.
“No,” Maureen said. “I guess we mostly spoke about happy early date things.”
“Like what?” asked Heather.
“Well, we shared some stories about bad dates we had been on. His was the worst I ever heard.”
“What was it?” asked Amy. “Because I’m pretty sure I just heard one that can top it.”
“I doubt it,” said Maureen. “His begins with getting a flat tire and having to walk for miles in the rain. Then he finds out that his date is actually his second cousin and she throws up on him. Does your story beat that?”
“Not beat it exactly,” Amy said slowly.
“Miss Cortez, do you own a gun?” asked Ryan.
“No,” she said. “I thought that I lived in a safe neighborhood. But I guess I was wrong if my date was just murdered.”
“And where were you on Saturday night?” Peters asked.
“I was at work,” Maureen said. “I work at a restaurant in town.”
Ryan nodded. “We’ll check on that.”
“Sure,” Maureen said. “Go ahead. I didn’t have anything to do with his death. I was falling in love with Henry. I’m going to be completely heartbroken when the realization settles in.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Heather said. “But we do appreciate your help.”
“Please catch whoever did this,” Maureen said. “Henry might have been my soul mate.”
“Should I tell her that his name is really Donald?” Amy whispered.
Heather shook her head. She turned back to Maureen. “We will catch the person responsible. We promise.”
Stories
“Come on,” Amy said. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“I don’t feel like walking,” Heather said.
“Too bad,” her bestie replied. “Your glum thinking face is bumming all the customers and your assistants out. We’re going to get some fresh air and see if that gets the gears in your head turning.”
Heather relented and let her friend lead her out of Donut Delights. She hadn’t realized exactly how down in the dumps she looked. However, when she caught glimpses of her concerned assistants’ faces, she realized that she must have looked pretty sad. She made sure to smile at them as she and Amy walked out the door.
“Where are we going?” Heather asked.
“Anywhere and nowhere,” Amy replied. “Let’s just walk down the street for a bit and see if it improves our moods.”
“Solving this case would improve my mood,” Heather said, sighing.
“I know,” Amy said. “Me too. But I don’t know how to do that right now. But I do know how to put one foot in front of the other.”
Heather followed suit and the two friends started walking. However, Heather couldn’t resist discussing the case as they walked.
“The problem with this case is that we don’t know the motive for why the victim was killed.”
“Besides that it wasn’t just a robbery,” said Amy. “Because this barista didn’t have much money.”
“And because Donald Hen presented himself as a different person to every person that he was trying to impress.”
“Right,” Amy agreed. “Even changing his name to something he thought sounded better.”
“And he stole other people’s stories,” Heather continued. “His bad date story was really Charlotte’s. And I think his stalker story was Delilah’s.”
“And he lied about his jobs. Pretending he worked at a different place down the street. Or at the library he visited. Or importing coffee.”
“In a way, I feel sorry for him,” said Heather. “He didn’t feel confident enough just to be himself. He needed to hide himself in constructed lies and steal other people’s funny stories.”
“But could any of this have gotten him killed?” asked Amy.
“Maybe,” said Heather. “Do any of the people we talked to seem like viable suspects?”
“His wife didn’t have a good alibi,” Amy reminded her. “The two dates he went on had decent alibis and claimed they were crazy about him.”
“Besides the fact that I don’t think Bernadette could have killed anyone, she was with us and then at Bella’s on the Beach when he was killed.”
“His co-workers were only mad at him after he didn’t show up for work,” said Amy.
“And the librarians don’t seem to have a real motive,” said Heather. “So, what does that leave?”
“It leaves us more street to walk down,” said Amy. “I have no idea who did it this time.”
“I don’t either,” said Heather. “But we’re about to pass Bernadette’s Beachy Books. I guess we should stop inside and see how she’s doing even if we don’t have much to report.”
They walked into the shop and Bernadette greeted them with a smile. She wasn’t quite as cheerful as she had been when they delivered donuts before her date, but she was looking more like herself.
Heather commented on it, and Bernadette blushed. “I am still bothered by my date’s death and that the killer hasn’t been caught yet.”
“We are working on fixing that,” Amy said.
“But I’m feeling a bit better for two reasons. One is that I realized that things would never have worked out with Henry. I would never have wished what happened to happen to him. But I wouldn’t have gotten my heart broken by his lies down the line. And I had a bookish idea recently. I’m going to ask Delilah about it soon.”
“The librarian?” asked Amy.
“Yeah,” Bernadette said. “I think we might become friends. There are a few books that I’ve been having trouble selling. I told her I was thinking of making a donation to the library to see if anyone would like to read them for free.”
She patted a small stack of books on the counter. They had artistic covers, and a blue ribbon was attached to each one to use as a bookmark.
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Heather said. “And I bet Delilah appreciates the offer.”
“She did, and we got to talking. She told me all about the book that she’s working on. It’s about someone who can grant wishes. It’s about how someone can deal with shouldering that responsibility. It sounds like it’s going to be a great book. I might sell it in my shop someday.”
“It sounds like the book that Donald Hen was telling people he was writing,” said Amy.
“Well, I guess he stole that story too,” said Heather.
“That’s terrible,” said Bernadette. “Delilah has been working on this story for a long time. And it’s j
ust about finished. She even added her dedication page to it she said.”
“And who did she dedicate it to?” asked Heather.
“Pauline,” answered Bernadette. “Apparently, Pauline was the one who encouraged her to start writing her own book. And Delilah is one of her only friends, so she knows that this will mean a lot to her.”
“I’ll dedicate some of the paintings that I do to you,” Amy said to Heather.
“Thanks,” Heather said, but then her gaze landed on the stack of books, and she found that she couldn’t look away.
Bernadette noticed her staring. “Those books aren’t even the big idea that I wanted to run past her.”
“I’m sorry,” Heather said. “I don’t mean to interrupt you. But I think I just figured something out.”
“The case?” asked Amy. “Did you solve it?”
“At least part of it,” said Heather. “About the red thread that Peters found at the crime scene. He said it belonged to a ribbon.”
“Right,” said Amy. “That’s originally why we thought a woman might be involved.”
“I still think a woman is involved, but,” Heather said slowly. “I think the ribbon was a bookmark in a book.”
“Like these?” Bernadette asked, gesturing to the stack of books.
“Exactly.”
“So, was Donald Hen returning a book that night?” asked Amy.
Heather thought about it, and suddenly a few things clicked. “This case was very complicated, but I think Bernadette might have just provided us with a vital clue. Something that goes to the reason that the victim was killed.”
“I did?” Bernadette asked.
“You definitely did,” said Heather. “I need to call Ryan. And we need to figure out a way to prove this.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Bernadette said. “I just wish I knew what I did to be so helpful!”
Amy laughed, but Heather was already calling the detectives to put a plan into action.
The Arrest
Heather and Amy followed behind Ryan and Detective Peters as they entered the library. Pauline began to shush them but soon stopped after she saw the police badges and their serious expressions.
Delilah adjusted her glasses. “Can we help you, officers?”
“Yes,” Ryan said to her. “You can come down to the station with us.”
“We know that you killed Donald Hen,” said Peters.
“But that’s ridiculous,” said Delilah. “Why would I kill him? He was just somebody who came to the library. He wasn’t an enemy.”
“But he was going to steal your book,” Peters said. “He was passing off your novel idea as his own and telling people about it.”
“I didn’t know about that,” said Delilah. “I certainly wouldn’t have told him about it if I knew that was his plan.”
“Of course, you knew about it,” Ryan said. “And that’s why you killed him. You didn’t want your years of hard work to be stolen by this liar.”
“But I didn’t kill anyone,” Delilah said.
“You lured him to the library, and you shot him,” Ryan continued.
“Yes. We know all about how you got the gun,” said Peters.
“Your mistake was leaving some threads from a library book’s bookmark,” said Ryan. “And now we really have to insist that you come with us.”
Delilah reluctantly started walking away with them. Heather and Amy stayed near Pauline.
“It sounds like an ironclad case,” Heather said.
“Oh yes,” said Amy. “She’ll be going away for life.”
“For life?” Pauline said. “Wait! Officers, wait!”
Ryan and Peters turned around to face her. Heather and Amy were close by.
“You can’t take her,” Pauline said. “Delilah didn’t do it. I did. I was the one who killed Don. Take me. Not her.”
“You’re just saying this to protect your friend,” Ryan said.
“That’s right,” said Peters. “There’s no way you could have done it.”
“But, I did,” Pauline protested.
“But, Delilah is the one who has the motive,” said Heather. “Her book was about to stolen away.”
“That was part of the reason why I did it,” Pauline said. “Part of it was for you. I began to realize what Don was. That he was a liar. That he was a thief. I knew he was going to steal your book and I couldn’t let him do that. Not after all the work you put into it. I couldn’t let him do that to my friend.”
“But he couldn’t have stolen it,” Delilah said. “He might have known the idea, but he didn’t have the manuscript. And even if he did take it, I would have been able to prove that I wrote it. I have many witnesses in my writers’ group who can attest to the journey that my story as taken.”
“That’s why only part of my reason was for you,” Pauline said. “The other reason was for me. Because of what he did to me.”
“What was that?” asked Heather.
“He used me!” cried Pauline. “I thought that we had feelings for each other. I thought that he liked spending time with me and that’s why he kept coming in for new books. I didn’t realize that he was looking for information to keep up his lies. And when he started asking for help finding romantic quotes, I thought that was his way of flirting with me. I thought he wanted me to hear the quotes. But he was using them to bamboozle women on the internet. He didn’t know any of those love lines without me. He didn’t know anything about love.”
“And that’s why you killed him?” Heather asked quietly.
“Yes. He used one of our computers the day before I did it. He went on his dating profile, and he forgot to log off the page. I was able to see everything. All the information I told him, he was saying to other women. And he was telling people about a stalker like you had, Delilah. And he was saying that he was writing your story. It made me so mad.”
“Pauline, I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Delilah said.
“He had the nerve to call up the library on Saturday. He said that he knew we were closing at five, but would it be possible for me to stay late and meet him that night. Because he left that webpage up, I knew that he had a date that night. He was looking for more tidbits to use to impress her. He had been leading me on, and now he wanted me to stay after work to help him hook up with another woman. What was I supposed to do?”
“You sound somewhat convincing,” Ryan said. “But I know you’re still just saying this to protect your friend.”
“Yeah,” Peters agreed. “Delilah was the one to drop the ribbon threads.”
“That was me,” Pauline said. “I hid the gun behind a book so Donald wouldn’t see it. It was a romantic book with a red ribbon bookmark. Some threads must have ripped off at some point.”
“And when we visited,” Heather said. “You listed The Portrait of Dorian Gray as a book that Donald Hen was still borrowing to throw us off the scent?”
“I wanted you to think that this was a robbery. That’s why I took the wallet originally. Then, when you were asking about valuable books being a motive for the murder, I just wanted to make sure that one book on the list couldn’t possibly be found at his house. I just chose one at random. I didn’t realize that it was a book that Delilah knew where it was.”
“I don’t know,” Ryan said, turning to Peters. “What do you think, partner?”
“I think it all comes down to the gun,” said Peters. “We know where Delilah could have gotten a 9mm.”
“But I have one too,” Pauline said. “In fact, it’s in the glove box of my car. I hadn’t decided what to do with it yet.”
“You’ve convinced us,” Ryan said.
He and Peters left Delilah and read Pauline her rights.
Delilah watched stunned as they lead the other librarian away. She turned to Heather and Amy.
“I can’t believe Pauline was the murderer,” she said. “And I can’t believe that you thought it was me for a little while.”
“Well,” Heather s
aid with a slight smile. “We had to make it look convincing.”
Writers’ Group
“Are you sure these will be okay?” Heather asked.
“Everyone loves your Peanut Butter Chocolate Donuts, and these aspiring writers will be no different,” Bernadette assured her.
“In that case, I have another question. Will this be enough?”
“They won’t be if I stick around,” Amy said, grabbing one of the donuts.
The women laughed. They were at Bernadette’s Beachy Books, where Bernadette had offered the space for the evening to Delilah’s writing group. They were happy to have a new place to meet, especially because of the dessert that this location provided. Heather said that Donut Delights would be happy to provide catering for the events, and they could have a weekly sampling of her new flavors.
Heather made sure that the table display of the donuts was all set, and then she turned to Bernadette.
“Are you doing all right?” she asked.
“I am,” Bernadette said. “I was pretty disappointed about everything that happened with Henry. It seems like another bad experience in a long line thwarted romance.”
“At least you didn’t find out he was your second cousin and have him throw up on you,” said Amy.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Well,” Bernadette said. “I was feeling sad, but I do like to look for the silver lining within these experiences, and I think I found one.”
“Delilah?” asked Heather.
“I think we’re going to be great friends,” said Bernadette. “And hosting the book club here has inspired me to start doing some writing myself.”
“That’s inspired!” said Heather.
“I used to write poetry, and I’ve decided to pick it up again,” Bernadette said with a smile. “I think it will be a fun thing for me to do with my new friends. And it’s something that I can work on when I’m feeling blue about not having a date for the night. That is when I’m not having a girls’ night with you.”
“I promise the next one won’t be interrupted by us running to a crime scene,” said Heather.
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