by Amy Lillard
“The library,” Camille breathed. “If these journals came from the donations they more than likely came from the Lillyfield library—”
“Then the rest of the journals should be in the library too.” Fern’s nod was even more confident than before. And Arlo hated to, but she agreed with their logic.
“Not that it matters,” Helen said. “How in the world are we supposed to get into the library at Lillyfield?”
“I’ve got it,” Camille said. “We knock on the door and say that we had a flat tire and our cell phones are dead and that we need to use their phone. And when they take us to use the phone, we sneak into the library and look for the books.”
Fern turned to Helen.
Arlo’s guardian shrugged.
Fern turned back to Camille. “That has more holes than Swiss cheese.”
“It’s better than your idea,” Camille countered. “Because you didn’t even come up with one.”
“We could go by Chloe’s and then somehow manage to wander onto the estate. With a house that big, they can’t keep every door locked, can they?”
Arlo cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, they can.” But the ladies were too far gone into making their plans to give her much notice.
Chapter 17
Thankfully, Monday passed without any major events concerning Lillyfield. The book club continued to discuss ways to get into the mansion, but Arlo let them talk. As long as they were discussing, they weren’t doing. She supposed it was the rain that kept them at the store instead of running off to Lillyfield, but she still said a small prayer to whatever god might be listening and thanked her lucky stars while she was at it.
Sam came down on Tuesday morning, and they made plans to go bowling on Friday night, the big night when everyone would get to meet Joe. Arlo tried to not make it weird, but somehow it was more than strange. She couldn’t decide if it was something between her and Sam or the fact that they had already seen Joe. Even though they hadn’t technically met him, they knew the others were in for a big surprise.
“Check this out,” Fern said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a Ziploc baggie filled with something milky white, though at this angle and distance Arlo couldn’t tell what it was. “What you think of these?”
“I’m not sure I can say until I know what these are,” Helen said.
“Ditto for me,” said Camille.
Fern looked positively heartbroken. “Really? Neither one of you know what these are?” She turned her eyes toward heaven. “Lord, save me from the idiots in my life.”
“I’m going to ignore the fact that she just called us idiots,” Camille said. “And I’ll ask you again, what are they?”
“Glow-in-the-dark stars,” Fern gushed.
“Whatever for?” Helen asked.
But Arlo knew.
“You put them on things and they absorb the light during the day. Then when you turn off your lights they glow. All the little boys like them.”
Helen began to nod. Arlo’s guardian had caught on quick. “And you think we should go decorate Jayden’s room with these?”
“Exactly,” Fern said. She turned to Camille.
“At the cottage, of course,” Camille said.
“Naturally,” Fern added. And the cottage was on the Lillyfield property and right next to a muddy field where a VW Beetle that had been pulled from the lake bed sat sadly ignored by law enforcement. At least according to these three, it had been sadly ignored. They might not have found a way into Lillyfield, but they were still exercising their meddling muscles.
“Chloe?” Fern held up the bag for her to see. “Can we go and decorate Jayden’s room with these? I thought it would be fun to hang them on the ceiling. Then at night it’ll almost be like looking up at the stars.”
Chloe smiled. “I think he would love that.”
Fern stood. “It’s settled then. Who wants to go with me to Lillyfield, er, I mean, who wants to go with me to Chloe’s cottage?”
Helen and Camille’s hands shot into the air.
“Little cottage,” Faulkner squawked. “There’s always a little cottage. Right at the woods. Don’t go in the woods.”
Seriously, Arlo was going to have to watch the patrons and the attention they paid to Faulkner. It seemed his vocabulary was growing stranger by the day.
“I think you should tag along,” Chloe said as Arlo made her way to the coffee bar. None of the book club ladies heard. They were too busy discussing whose car they were going to take, which route they were going to drive, and how exactly they were going to hang the stars in Jayden’s room. Their conversation was a little too loud and a little too animated for her to believe it real. Which meant the whole deal was a cover-up to get out to Lillyfield and dig around inside the little Beetle.
“I suppose you’re right.”
* * *
And that’s how Arlo found herself standing in Jayden’s room in Chloe’s cottage half an hour later.
She hadn’t made any sort of excuse as to why she was tagging along with the ladies, just told them that she was going. They had cheered like they always did and made room for her in Fern’s Lincoln.
Now as they bickered back and forth and hung the stars, she just wondered when the ladies would make a break for the Beetle.
“Don’t you find it terribly interesting that that poor little car is just sitting out there?” Fern asked.
All three ladies turned to her.
Arlo sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Me? Why would I find it interesting?” But she knew the expedition had begun.
“You’re a literary person,” Camille started.
“The connection to Wally’s book. Uh-huh.”
“If you’re so sure there isn’t a connection, then put your money where your mouth is,” Helen said.
Here it comes.
“A bet?” Fern clapped her hands in excitement.
Helen shook her head. “We go see what Mary Kennedy left in her car. Maybe there’s a clue there as to how she disappeared.” She gave a delicate shrug. “Who knows what’s out there.”
“We’ll never know if we don’t go look in that Beetle,” Camille continued.
Stars hung, the ladies had been biding their time to get to now.
Arlo sighed and stood. “Look at this.” She motioned them into the living room and over to the window. “See the lake there?”
“I see a mud pit,” Fern grumbled.
“I can’t see anything,” Camille said.
“Fine,” Arlo led them to the front door and out onto the lawn. “Now you see the lake?”
“Again. Mud pit,” Helen said. She crossed her arms, a sure sign she was growing irritated with the whole thing.
“Well that mud pit is half on the Lillyfield property and half on public lands.”
“We know this.” Fern frowned.
“See the marker at the edge on both sides?”
“I see them,” Camille said cheerfully.
“And look at what side the Beetle is sitting on.”
It was clearly on the Lillyfield land, but none of the ladies wanted to admit that.
“I’m fairly sure that Judith Whitney is already having a fit that the car is on her land to begin with. Not to mention all the memories that it has to be dredging up for her.”
“I suppose,” Helen agreed.
“I don’t think it would be a good idea to push our luck and go trespassing on her land to find clues to a mystery that may or may not be there.” Arlo held her stance.
“We were invited here,” Camille said. “And we have a friend here.”
“That’s right,” Fern agreed. “That friend invited us, and we came over, so we can’t be trespassing.”
“Good enough for me.” Helen started toward the car.
“Elly, wait!” Arlo took o
ff after her guardian with Camille and Fern gleefully trailing behind her.
“We can’t all go digging in this car.” Helen slung her braid over her shoulder when she reached the Beetle.
“You and I can look for clues,” Fern said. “And Camille and Arlo can watch for security.”
Arlo looked at the car, back to the cottage, and over to where Lillyfield mansion towered like a watchman over the land.
It wouldn’t be long before somebody came out. If she was guessing right, whoever it was would not call police because that would just be extra publicity. She was also fairly certain that extra publicity was something they didn’t want. If so, they would probably just ask the ladies to leave. Maybe the best thing she could do would be to allow the ladies to have their look, let them be told to leave by the mansion’s security, and they could all tromp back to the Books and More.
Arlo checked her watch, interested to see just how long it would be before someone from the mansion came down and forcibly escorted them from the property.
“I don’t see a purse or anything,” Helen said.
“A purse would be brilliant,” Camille chirped. “Lots of clues. If she was murdered, it might still be here in the car.”
What else would a killer do with his victim’s handbag?
“Are the keys still in the ignition?” Fern asked.
“Good idea,” Camille said not willing to be completely left out of the investigation. “Maybe there’s something good in the trunk.”
A second passed. “Nope,” Helen replied.
“We’ll have to pry it open.” Fern’s voice was emphatic.
“No,” Arlo returned. “It’s one thing to be out here digging around in it. And another thing altogether to vandalize it.”
Fern deflated like a week-old party balloon. “I guess you’re right.”
Helen braced her hands against the top of the car. “Wait. The trunk is in the front of the car. It think it would be awkward if she put her purse there. I think she took it with her.”
“Why would she put her purse in the trunk anyway?” Camille asked.
Helen shrugged. “I put my purse in the trunk all the time.”
“Do you even have a trunk?”
Helen shot Fern a withering look. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”
“Well, unlike your car, this car has a back seat, so if she didn’t want to set it in the front seat next to her, she could put it behind her. Not like a two-seater.” Camille nodded.
“The point?” Fern asked.
“If she took the purse with her, then she left of her own accord,” Helen surmised.
The ladies were about to debate the topic when two burly men in military black and dark sunglasses headed down the hill.
“Gather your things, girls,” Camille said.
“I’ll handle this,” Helen said.
Thank heavens. Arlo was scrambling to find the right explanation to give to the security guard, and she would gladly let Helen handle it. Especially considering the fact that Helen was about the same height of the men coming after them. Nothing like a little physical intimidation to brighten the day.
“Should I shut the door?” Camille asked.
Arlo shook her head. “This is how we found it.”
Camille and Fern waited next to her as Arlo watched Helen walk up to meet the security guard. They were halfway between Lillyfield and the mud pit that had once been a pretty little lake. The trio was close enough to see but not close enough to understand.
They talked, gestured, pointed, and when Helen braced her hands on her hips, Arlo knew the conversation was over.
“It’s time to go.”
“I do hope this doesn’t cause any problems for Chloe,” Camille said.
Arlo hadn’t thought about her friend’s status as a resident/tenant on the Lillyfield property. She was sure the Lillyfield budget didn’t need the money they got from renting her a little cottage, and asking her to move out immediately would do no harm to their fiscal health. For Chloe, it would be nothing short of devastating. Especially since Jayden had just moved in.
Helen finished her conversation with the security guards, and Arlo considered it a good sign that they turned on their heels and started back toward the mansion.
“What did they say?” Fern called before Helen was even halfway back to them.
Helen shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together as she returned.
“They advised us to leave immediately,” Helen said when she returned to their side.
“And that’s exactly what we should do.” Arlo pointed toward the side of the cottage where they had left the Lincoln. “We don’t want to give them any excuse to change their minds.”
“I guess,” Camille said. But the two words held such dejection. She sounded like a little boy who dropped his ice cream and lost his dog all on the same day.
“I guess Judith Whitney can see the car from her bedroom window,” Helen said.
“What makes you say that?” Fern asked as they trudged up the hill toward the cottage.
“He said that lady of the house requested that we leave.”
“He was just saying that,” Camille said.
“Or it was Pam. Maybe he thinks she speaks for Judith,” Arlo put in.
“Or Anastasia,” Fern added.
“Maybe. But I got the distinct impression that Judith was spittin’ mad to have the car sitting on the grass and even madder that that we were out here,” Helen explained.
Fern shrugged. “Understandable.”
“Which is the exact reason why I thought we shouldn’t do this,” Arlo reminded them.
“I’m sure I didn’t raise you to be a wet blanket,” Helen said. But neither one reminded the other that raising only included sixteen until now.
“But the funny thing,” Helen continued, “is I got the impression from the guard—the big, hunky one—that even though she can’t walk or talk or even write, her mind is sound.”
Fern looked back toward the spot where the guards had disappeared. “They were both hunky.”
“Focus,” Camille snapped at Fern, then to Helen, “Like she’s trapped in a body that doesn’t work?”
“Exactly,” Helen said. “He didn’t come right out and say it, but it seemed like that’s what he was implying.”
They all slipped into Fern’s Lincoln, and she started the car.
“Lock the cottage?” Helen asked.
Fern nodded as she pulled the Lincoln out onto the short drive. A few moments later they were back on the road to the Books and More.
“I wish we knew if what you think about Judith is true,” Camille said.
“What difference does it make?” Arlo asked.
“Wet blanket,” Helen singsonged.
Arlo sighed and sat back in her seat. She supposed trying to be the voice of reason was getting her nowhere, so at least she should be the person who did her best to keep them all from getting arrested. She didn’t know what such a person was called. According to Helen, a wet blanket.
“There’s only one way to know that,” Helen said. “And that’s to get back into Lillyfield.”
“No,” Arlo said. “You call me a wet blanket until the cows come home and dance with the chickens, but you are not going to force your way into Lillyfield and bother Judith Whitney.”
“But—” Camille started.
“No.” Arlo said.
“It’s okay, girls,” Fern said. She shifted in her seat as they started through town. Only a few more minutes and they would be back at the Books and More. “We still have to figure out what this means.” She held up her hand, and dangling from her fingers was a diamond necklace.
Chapter 18
“I still can’t believe you took that necklace without telling anyone,” Camille huffed half an hour later.
“Too bad we can’t go see if it works,” Fern lamented. Someone—Mary Kennedy, they presumed—had rented a room at the Moonlight Motel and left the keys in the glove box of the Beetle.
In the seventies, the Moonlight was something of an embarrassment to the town. The seedy motel rented rooms on the short term and was situated next to the old highway. Arlo had even heard once that the local madam had run her business from one of those rooms. But when the new highway went in, the Moonlight was taken down, leveled to make way for future businesses.
Along with the key, they found a leather pouch with a few papers stuffed inside. Lucky for them, the glove box on a Volkswagen was about as sealed as the car itself, but the pages hadn’t survived for years underwater without some trauma. As soon as the ladies got them back to the Books and More and Fern had explained that she had found those in addition to the diamond necklace, Helen had grabbed the pouch, opened it, and started spreading the damp papers out on the coffee table in the reading nook.
“You have a hairdryer, don’t you?” Helen asked.
“At home,” Arlo said.
Helen looked like Arlo like she had somehow committed a grave offense.
“Why would I have a hairdryer at the bookstore?” Arlo asked.
“I don’t know. I just thought maybe you would.” Helen gave a negligent shrug.
“I have one.” Sam.
Arlo closed her eyes for a brief moment and spun around to face her ex-sweetheart. “Why do you have a hairdryer?”
“Hey, Sam. Good to see you.” He quirked a brow at her but otherwise his expression remained the same.
“Yeah, yeah,” Arlo said.
“Can I borrow it?” Helen gestured toward the papers spread out on the coffee table.
“What have you got there?” Sam walked over to investigate.
“Papers,” Fern said triumphantly. “I’m hoping they’re journal pages or love letters from Weston Whitney to Mary Kennedy.”
Sam propped his hands on his hips. “Interesting stuff.”
“Found them in the car this morning.” Fern gave a self-satisfied nod. “Along with this.” She held up the necklace for Sam to see.
