Larceny at the Library

by Colleen Shogan

  We stopped chatting when a Rocklands waiter brought over our food. Doug and Sebastian had gone all out. The table was now filled with baby-back ribs, brisket, chicken, baked beans, and potato salad. I looked down at my feet. Clarence positioned himself at my feet and licked his lips.

  After helping myself to a plate full of food, I picked up our conversation. “I hope Lisa is able to help figure out who did it and why. As far as I’m concerned, there’s a lot of suspects, but I’m pretty short on clues.”

  “For what it’s worth, everyone knows you’re investigating,” said Doug. “Several people mentioned it to me today at work.”

  I winced. “That might not be a good thing.”

  “You’d better be careful, sis.” Sebastian wiped his mouth after polishing off a rib. “I know you’re used to this stuff and you want to clear Doug’s name, but this person means business. No one wants to get caught for murder and grand larceny.”

  “Maybe we should talk about something else,” I said, polishing off a rib. “A topic that’s more. . .” I searched for the right word. “Pleasant.”

  Doug immediately perked up. “How about real estate?”

  I preferred murder, quite frankly.

  “Are you still looking to buy a house?” asked Sebastian.

  As if on cue, Clarence growled softly. Although I’m sure he was eager to have a backyard, his interjection was pure coincidence. Clarence’s mind was on food. I noticed he eyed Murphy warily. Clarence had grown up as an only dog and didn’t like to share, especially when it came to barbecue chicken. I tore off a piece and gave it to him, which spent less than one second on his lips before it disappeared.

  “We’re in the market. Our realtor Jonathan wants to show us a split-level in Falls Church tomorrow.” Doug leaned forward, barely able to contain his excitement. “It has a fenced-in backyard.”

  Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “That’ll be great for Clarence and Murphy.”

  I could almost read Clarence’s mind. First, I have to share my chicken. Now you want me to share my backyard, too?

  “Nothing is settled yet,” I said abruptly. “Quite frankly, we have a lot on our plate right now.”

  Doug lowered his head. “Of course not. But it’s a very good deal.”

  Sebastian forged ahead, blissfully obvious to any tension the current conversation had fomented. “You should really consider an eco-friendly home,” he said, shaking a half-eaten rib at us. “There’s lot of options out there. Solar-powered, harvested rainwater, geothermal heating, compostable toilet.”

  My brother loved talking about the environment. He also detested Wall Street greed, corporate farming, our current immigration policy, and the military industrial complex. But the environment was his all-time favorite cause.

  “I don’t even want to know what a compostable toilet looks like inside a house,” I said. “But thanks for making us aware of the green options out there.”

  “Or you could consider a tiny house,” said Sebastian. “There’s only two of you and Clarence. A tiny house might be a good choice for affordability and the environment.” Sebastian ran his fingers through his dishwater blond hair. Now he was on a roll.

  “Do they have those in the D.C. area?” I asked.

  “They will soon,” said Sebastian. “It would be perfect for me, Lisa, and Murphy.”

  Sebastian’s last comment caught me off guard. “Wait a second. You haven’t known Lisa that long. Don’t you think you’d better take it slow before moving into a three hundred square foot house together?”

  Sebastian drained his beer. “I don’t second guess my feelings, big sister. Not everyone creates a twenty-step flowchart before making a decision.” He winked his eye at Doug.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “That’s not fair, Sebastian.”

  He reached across the table and patted my hand. “You’re right, Kit. That’s not fair. You don’t always create a flowchart. Sometimes you build a spreadsheet instead.”

  Doug chuckled. “Very funny,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with being deliberate or analytical.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Besides, I’m not afraid to act.”

  I’d given Doug an opening and he seized it. “In that case, we’re on for the appointment with Jonathan tomorrow. Since you’re a woman of action.”

  “Fine. We’ll go see the house at lunchtime.” I stabbed a piece of potato salad with my fork and shoved it in my mouth.

  “Terrific!” said Sebastian. I caught him smiling at Doug. I wondered if the two of them had cooked this up on the ride over to Rocklands from our condo. I wouldn’t put it past them.

  “It will have to be a fast viewing,” said Doug. “We’ve rescheduled the big Lincoln congressional event for late tomorrow afternoon. We’re going to display all the items, minus the two stolen pieces. To make up for the earlier cancellation, we’re also going to show Lincoln’s handwritten Second Inaugural Address.”

  “That’s a big deal, right?” Try as I might, I couldn’t always keep up with Doug’s brain. There were only so many history factoids a mere mortal could commit to memory.

  “Certainly. The text of the speech is engraved on a wall inside the Lincoln Memorial,” said Doug. “You’d recognize the famous quotes from it, like ‘with malice toward none and charity for all.’ Many scholars argue it’s Lincoln’s greatest speech, even better than the Gettysburg Address.”

  “Are you expecting a lot of members of Congress? I bet Maeve Dixon will attend, although I wasn’t at the office very much today.”

  “We are,” said Doug. “In fact, since Congress might convene a rare Saturday session, all the House members and senators are staying in town on a Friday. Our event is supposed to be a nice break for them. I think the Speaker of the House is attending.”

  “In that case, I know Maeve Dixon will be there,” I said. The Speaker hand-picked my boss for her current chairmanship. She was her own person but knew where her bread was buttered.

  Doug sighed. “It’s going to be chaotic tomorrow. With congressional leaders attending, there will be security sweeps before the event. Everything is shutting down around noon at the Library so the Capitol Hill police can do their thing.”

  Sebastian had been listening to our conversation intently. Still fairly new to the Washington, D.C. area, he found insider discussions about our government fascinating. “Do they do that all the time for Congress?”

  “There’s always security,” I explained. “I suspect they’re taking extra precautions tomorrow because the Speaker will be attending. She’s third in line to the presidency, you know.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Sebastian. “I totally forgot. I guess I could use a civics review.”

  Our plates were now mostly empty. We packed up the remaining chicken for Clarence and Murphy as leftovers and walked back to Sebastian’s car.

  “Doug, do you want to drive the Prius home?” I flipped him the key. “I wouldn’t mind riding home with Sebastian.” I planned to interrogate him about the seriousness of his relationship with Lisa.

  “No problem,” said Doug. “See you at home.”

  I was about to climb into the front seat when Sebastian motioned for me to stop.

  “Kit, do you mind sitting in the back with Clarence and Murphy? They were a little rambunctious on the way here and it might be better if you sat back there with them.” Sebastian didn’t want to say it, but he was uber-protective of his Tesla. I doubted he wanted Clarence’s slobber on the front seat.

  “Not at all,” I said. My suit would be a magnet for the dog hair, but a trip to the dry cleaner was on the schedule for this weekend. Besides, it was a real treat to snuggle with two dogs.

  We were stopped at a red light on Washington Boulevard when Clarence’s nose went up in the air. He sniffed several times, followed by a low growl.

  “Clarence, what’s wrong?” I
massaged his ears. He responded by shaking his butt and nudging me.

  I followed his gaze and realized he was staring at the doggy box of leftover chicken. It was on the other side of me. Noticeably closer to Murphy than Clarence. Uh-oh.

  “Sorry, buddy. Do you want the chicken closer to you?” I asked.

  “Kit, I wouldn’t do that,” said Sebastian. “As I recall, Clarence really can’t restrain himself.”

  Sebastian’s comment reminded me of an unfortunate incident with pepperoni pizza that happened a while back. Let’s just say that Clarence distinguished himself that evening, and not in a particularly auspicious way.

  Clarence growled again and pawed at my arm. “It’s fine, Sebastian. He just doesn’t want the leftovers closer to Murphy.” Clarence was already wary of another dog taking over his territory. Food envy might throw him over the top.

  I picked up the box and put it on the other side of me. Clarence wagged his tail and sat back down. “See? Problem solved.”

  Unfortunately, my little plan had failed to take Murphy into account. He apparently liked the leftover chicken right where it was. Murphy lunged across my lap in an attempt to return the box to its rightful place. Clarence was having none of that. He intercepted Murphy’s head by grabbing it with both paws.

  “Oh no! Dog fight!” I screamed.

  Sebastian kept his eyes on the road. “What in the hell is going on back there?”

  Murphy was undeterred by Clarence’s attempt to box his ears. He wedged his muzzle next to my thigh, determined to reclaim the leftover container. Clarence burrowed his mouth in the same spot. In short order, they each grabbed a corner of the doggy box. I knew what was coming next, but there was no way to stop it. They both pulled backwards at precisely the same time. The container of barbecue exploded, leaving a half-pound of chicken right on my legs. Without missing a beat, Clarence and Murphy immediately dove on top of me, determined to make short work of the feast.

  “Can someone help me?” I bellowed. “You might want to stop the car.”

  “We’re almost at your place, Kit,” said Sebastian. “No point in delaying.”

  The good news was that the feeding frenzy was over in ten seconds. My black suit pants were smeared with red sauce, and I smelled like I’d just stepped out of a Texas roadhouse. But at least there was no more chicken on my lap.

  Sebastian pulled up next to our condo building. He got out and opened the door so I could crawl out of the backseat with Clarence, who was so busy licking his lips, he didn’t realize we were home.

  Sebastian took a closer look at my stained pantsuit. “Jeez, Kit. Sorry about all of that. I guess even though Murphy is a police dog, he can be rambunctious.”

  I mustered a smile. “Nothing my dry cleaner can’t handle. And if not, then I have ten other black suits inside my closet.” Due to the canine shenanigans, I’d neglected to ask him about his relationship with Lisa. It would have to wait until next time

  Sebastian gave us a salute. “See you around.” Before he put the car in gear, he honked the horn and motioned for me. I went back to the car and stuck my head inside the window.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked. “In addition to the obvious fact that I’m covered in barbecue sauce.”

  “Please be careful, Kit,” he said. “Not all messes can be cleaned up easily.”

  Little brothers can be annoying. As it turns out, every once in a while, they’re dead right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  W

  Friday was usually a delicious reprieve. Most of the time, members of Congress have already departed for a weekend of politicking back in the home district. That typically leaves Washington, D.C. staff with the entire day to catch up with emails, paperwork, and other administrative minutiae that no sane person can possibly stomach while engaged with actual legislative deal-making. However, in the spirit that there’s no rest for the weary, this week offered no such respite. Not only did I have a murder to solve, but Congress had also decided to remain in legislative session. This meant Maeve Dixon was staying put, and it was business as usual. No one was happy about this development, including the entire staff and the Congresswoman herself.

  It was half past seven, and I scanned my closet yet again. Fridays meant casual attire. With the House of Representatives in full operation, I couldn’t get away with tan corduroys and a turtleneck. Luckily, hiding in the far corner I spotted my last clean black suit. I threw it on, thankful to find one final outfit to get me through the week. I was finishing my makeup when Doug walked into our bedroom.

  “Let’s ride to work together today,” he said. “Then I can meet you at noon for our real estate appointment, and we can drive together.”

  I’d almost forgotten the meeting with Jonathan. What could possibly get me through the dreaded tour inside a split-level rambler in suburban Falls Church? Clarence nuzzled my leg as he frequently did when he saw me getting ready for work in the morning. An idea popped into my head.

  “Let’s take Clarence,” I said. “He can come to work with me today. Maeve Dixon is in the office, but she won’t mind. He can visit the open house with us and check out the backyard. Didn’t you say it was fenced in?”

  Doug nodded. “There’s a pretty sizable yard. Even if he can’t come inside the house, it’s warm enough for him to run around outside.”

  “I hate leaving him alone on Fridays.” I rubbed his ears. “Besides, I think Clarence should have a vote about where we live.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” said Doug. “He’ll take one look at the outdoor play space and there won’t be a question.”

  I gave Clarence a knowing look. Doug might think he had our beagle mutt in his pocket, but I knew otherwise. Clarence didn’t cross the hand who filled his doggy bowl on a daily basis.

  Less than an hour later, I dropped Doug off at the Library of Congress, parked my car, and entered the Cannon House Office Building. It always took twice as long to arrive at our suite when Clarence joined me. He had a habit of wagging his tail at anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention to him, so we inevitably stopped for several head scratches and belly rubs before reaching our final destination.

  Patsy caught me on the way to my desk. “As soon as you get Clarence settled, the Congresswoman would like to see you.”

  I knew this wouldn’t be the typical Friday, but I hadn’t expected the craziness to start as soon as I walked through the door. Thankfully, Clarence knew the drill. After helping himself to a drink of water from his bowl, he curled up next to my desk on the cushion I kept for him. By the time I left my office, he was already snoring. A dog’s life, indeed.

  Maeve Dixon wasn’t outfitted in her usual power suit with high heels. Instead, her shoulder-length brown hair was in a ponytail, which matched her workout capris and University of North Carolina t-shirt. She must have seen the curious look on my face. “I apologize for my casual attire. I slept in later than usual, so I’m running behind.”

  It was a nice reminder that even my ultra-disciplined boss was human. “This Friday schedule has everyone off schedule,” I said.

  She nodded as she sipped a smoothie from her eco-friendly water bottle. “Speaking of schedules, that’s why I wanted to talk to you.” She wiped a thin line of green liquid from her upper lip. Maeve Dixon swore by her daily kale shakes for breakfast. I shuddered, finding delicious comfort in my bagel and coffee ritual.

  “The Librarian’s office called me this morning.” She put on her cheaters so she could read her scrawled handwriting. “Miriam Dunlap would like an update on the investigation. Unfortunately, she has a packed schedule today and only has a short window of availability this morning.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” I said. “I have time to walk over to the Madison Building to meet her.”

  “That’s the rub,” said Maeve. “She’s not on Capitol Hill this morning. She’s at
Ford’s Theater. They’d planned an event about Lincoln for this week, and despite the theft, Ford’s decided to forge ahead.” She smiled. “So to speak.”

  I tried to hide my annoyance. Ford’s wasn’t too far away, but I hadn’t necessarily budgeted for a morning trip off-site. “And you think it’s necessary that I speak with her?”

  Maeve took a long sip of her smoothie and sat down on the couch opposite me. “I think so, Kit. We’re deep into this, at least until the bad guy or gal gets caught. If you don’t have any more leads, then tell her. But she must stay informed.”

  “Sergeant O’Halloran is following up on a few alibis for me. Right now, I have a lot of possibilities but no real answers, I’m afraid.”

  “Something will break,” she said. “Or law enforcement will figure out who did this. In the meantime, we have political responsibilities to fulfill.”

  In other words, I needed to get my butt to Ford’s Theater. Pronto. After going over a few more details regarding today’s legislative agenda on the floor, Maeve dismissed me and told me to get the details about Ford’s from Patsy.

  “I’ll see you at the Library of Congress event later today, correct?” she asked.

  I looked at her blankly.

  “The rescheduled show-and-tell of the remaining Lincoln items from the night he was assassinated,” she said. “You are going, aren’t you?”

  Of course, I was. It had completely slipped my mind. “Yes, I’ll be there. By the way, I have a personal appointment at noon in Virginia. After I speak with the Librarian at Ford’s, do you mind if I spend my lunch hour taking care of it?”

  Maeve waved her hand dismissively. “Of course, Kit. I know you work all hours of the day at this job, whether or not you have a murder to solve. Please take the time you need, as long as you’re back for the rescheduled event later in the afternoon at the Library.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” I said. Particularly since I had no plans to spend more than twenty minutes inside the house Jonathan was showing us.