Death Overdue

by Allison Brook

  I allowed a break for conversation and refreshments and then introduced the storyteller. Trish dimmed the lights. Though Natasha spoke softly, she knew how to project her voice so that everyone in the room could hear her. Still, we all leaned forward for fear of missing one word of her riveting tales.

  Eerie and peculiar they were—of boys wandering into the woods never to return, of a ghost that haunted a brothel. I heard sighs when she brought the last story to its sad ending.

  When the lights were on again, I announced that the costume parade would begin in twenty minutes, and all those participating were to line up against the sidewall. I checked on the coffee and dessert situation and asked Susan to come with me to the utility room to help carry out more cookies and platters of cake.

  “This is such fun,” she said.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  Trish came to join us. “We need more milk and hot water.”

  “I’ll get them,” I said.

  “I will.” Trish gave me a meaningful look. “You go out there and mingle.”

  The meeting room buzzed with chatter. Sally was speaking to a young man wearing a cap. Somehow I knew he was the reporter from the local paper.

  I’ll mingle, all right. I went over to them. “Hello,” I greeted him in my friendliest tone. “Are you enjoying our Halloween party? I’m Carrie Singleton, the head of programs and events.”

  “Ah!” His attention strayed from Sally to me. “I’m Terry Egan. I was hoping to speak to you. This year’s party really pops. Can’t wait to see the costume parade.”

  I answered his questions as Sally drifted away. Then I tried to excused myself to see to a few things.

  “May I first snap a photo for tomorrow’s edition?”

  “Of course.” I beckoned to Trish and Susan, who were on their way to replenish the refreshment table. “I hope you don’t mind including my two assistants.”

  His eyes lit up when he caught sight of Susan. “Certainly not. The more the merrier.”

  I allowed Terry to shoot a few pictures and left him chatting with Trish and Susan. I smiled as patrons came up to me, telling me what a wonderful time they were having.

  A man in a bear suit nodded at me. “Carrie, I want you to know I’m having a ball.”

  “I’m glad.”

  The man lifted the bear head and tucked it under his arm. “It’s me, Roy Peters. Trish’s dad.”

  “Oh.” I started to laugh. “I didn’t recognize you.”

  “Trish tells me you’re doing wonders here in the library.”

  “Did she?” I felt a stab of pleasure. “Actually, Barbara chose the magician and the storyteller. I think they were terrific.”

  “They sure were, but I’m talking about the costumes and decorations. The food. The entire party atmosphere. Trish loves the way you include her and Susan whenever you can.”

  “The truth is, I need their help.”

  Roy’s expression turned somber. “Too bad your first event turned into a tragedy.” He shook his head. “I miss Al sorely, and not just because we’re one man short in our poker games and still looking for the right replacement.”

  “I only met him that night, but he made me feel safe and cared for. Silly, isn’t it?”

  “Not silly at all.”

  Suddenly I was curious. “What made Al start drinking all those years ago?”

  Roy grimaced. “One night, he and his partner were chasing after a suspect in a bad part of town. From nowhere, someone threw a metal rod down on Al’s back. Caused him awful pain. Whatever he tried brought no relief, so he started to drink. And he was no pretty drunk. Which was why Thelma finally left him.”

  “What made him clean up his act?”

  “One of the fellas invited Al to fill in at our poker game on the condition that he didn’t drink that night. We got friendly. I convinced him to go to AA and see my pain management doctor. Dr. Bailey tried several ways to deal with his pain. Finally, acupuncture worked.”

  Someone touched my arm. Aunt Harriet was holding a plate of spider cookies. “Carrie, your party’s a big success!”

  “When did you get here? And where’s Uncle Bosco?”

  “We arrived a few minutes ago. Your uncle’s lined up to take part in the costume parade.”

  I giggled. “Really? What is he wearing?”

  Aunt Harriet winked. “You’ll see. It’s to be a surprise.”

  Max and Pete had removed several chairs and were turning those remaining to face a wide center aisle, while Sally kept order among the patrons lined up for the costume parade. Time to get the show under way!

  Three of the four judges—Angela, Marion Marshall, and the head of the computer department—were already seated at their table. I hurried across the room to relieve Sally so she could take her place as the fourth judge. I’d progressed no more than a couple of feet when an older woman dressed as a bee approached to tell me what a wonderful time she was having. I smiled and said I was glad and moved on. A few more people stopped me to say how much they were enjoying the party. Suddenly, I no longer felt obliged to rush them along.

  My job is to be in constant communication with the library’s patrons. I need to know what they like and don’t like in order to set up programs and events they’ll enjoy.

  “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

  I snapped out of my daydreaming and met the angry glare of Wonder Woman, whom I’d been trying to avoid all evening.

  “What do you want, Dorothy? Why do you always have to cause trouble?”

  “I want you out of here!”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

  Her sly smile made my stomach turn. “We’ll see about that.”

  Shaken, I finally reached Sally and told her to take her place with the other judges.

  “What’s wrong, Carrie? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  A ghost’s niece. “Nothing.”

  Sally smiled. “Relax. The Halloween party is a huge success.”

  “I’m glad. We’re ready to start the parade. As soon as you join the other judges, I’ll give the intro and then give Trish the signal to start the music for the parade.”

  I forced myself to erase Dorothy from my mind and not dwell on all the possibilities of how she could ruin this, the final segment of the party.

  Would she pull a fire alarm?

  Shut down the lights?

  Set off a stink bomb?

  I asked the first person in line—a lion with a glorious mane and tail—to wait until I gave the signal to begin and then went to stand before the judges’ table.

  “Good evening, my fellow ghouls and ghosts. I hope you’re having a wonderful time.”

  The applause and cheers were deafening.

  “We’re about to begin the Clover Ridge Library Halloween costume parade.” I nodded to Trish to start the music at the lowest volume possible. “We have four judges to award the best male and female costumes and the funniest male and female costumes. Each contestant will have a solo moment, and the judges will take your applause into consideration when they make their choices.”

  “What if we can’t tell if the person is male or female?” a wise guy called out.

  “Do your best.” There was laughter. “It’s the judges’ responsibility to decide.”

  I nodded to the lion to begin, slowing him down as he came toward me. I instructed Trish to raise the volume and Susan to switch on the strobe light and then took my seat to watch the parade.

  “Psst, Carrie,” a fat man in a red suit stage-whispered as he passed me.

  My mouth fell open at the sight of Uncle Bosco in full Santa Claus regalia. Then I grinned at him—at all the contestants in their marvelous array of costumes. It looked like this time, Dorothy’s threats against me were no more than posturing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The party ended at nine fifteen. I thanked everyone for coming, thanked Trish and Susan and the judges for their work, and as
ked the four contest winners to stay a moment to give me their e-mail addresses so I could send them their prizes. Several patrons made a point of hugging me good night and promising to attend more library programs in the near future. I told my aunt and uncle I’d be home in half an hour or so, after I saw to the leftovers. Both Trish and Susan offered to stay with me, but I shooed them home after I told them once again what a wonderful job they’d done. I was exhausted but exhilarated. The party had been a success.

  There wasn’t much food left, so I told Max and Pete to take what they liked. I yawned as I lifted the huge coffee urn to wash it out in the utility room.

  “We’ll see to that, Carrie,” Max said. “Go on home.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Of course. Let us do our job.”

  “In that case, good night.” I headed for the door. I was happy to leave, as I was scheduled to be back at the library first thing in the morning.

  Only a few dim lights were on upstairs in the main area of the library. The bookshelves cast shadows, making me uneasy. What if someone was lurking behind one of them, waiting to hit me over the head? Maybe Laura and Al’s murderer was waiting to attack me for trying to discover his or her identity.

  “I say, that was one hell of a party!”

  I jumped, then shook my head in exasperation when Evelyn manifested. “You didn’t have to scare me like that.”

  “Sorry, but it is Halloween, Carrie. The time for ghouls and ghosts, as you said.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You were too busy to notice me bobbing around, listening to comments. I wanted to tell you that tonight was an important event.”

  “It was? I’m glad everyone seemed to have a good time.”

  “Now you’re the library’s darling. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “How do I do that?”

  Evelyn grinned. “By connecting to the patrons. Talk to them. Give them programs they love. You’ll have a few duds, but that’s to be expected.” She started to fade. “See you soon, Carrie!”

  Too late, I realized I wanted to speak to her about Dorothy.

  I pushed open the back door to the parking lot, glad for the four bright beams lighting my way. The car beeped as my door unlocked. I was about to slide in when I let out a groan of dismay. The window on the passenger’s side had been smashed in, spraying shards of glass all over the front seat.

  Dorothy did this! My fury rose like a volcano about to spill over with boiling lava. I slammed the door shut and started walking home. As I crossed the Green, I plotted all sorts of revenge on Dorothy Hawkins. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bosco were in the kitchen drinking tea. They turned to me, their faces glowing with pride.

  “That was one wonderful Halloween party!” Uncle Bosco was now in his pajamas and bathrobe. “Patrons came up to me saying what a wonderful job my grand-niece is doing.”

  “What’s wrong, Carrie?” Aunt Harriet asked.

  “Someone smashed a window of my car.”

  “That’s terrible!” Uncle Bosco exclaimed. “Sally told me some teenaged boys were about to deface the front of the library in the early evening. Maybe they vandalized a few cars in the parking lot too.”

  “I wonder.” Aunt Harriet watched me closely. “Carrie, do you have any idea who might have done something like this?”

  Of course I do! I wanted to shout. Instead, I shook my head. I couldn’t involve my aunt and uncle. That would only give Dorothy more fuel for her crusade against me. I had to resolve this on my own.

  “Leave me the key. I’ll have someone from Bailey’s Garage pick it up in the morning and make sure they fix the window ASAP. You’ll need your car for your move out to the cottage.”

  I handed Uncle Bosco my car key and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Thanks for taking care of it. I’m going to bed.”

  * * *

  News of my smashed window was already circulating around the library when I came to work the following morning.

  “Sorry about your car,” Angela said.

  “Was there damage to other cars?” I asked.

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  We exchanged knowing glances. While I hadn’t complained to Angela about Dorothy’s behavior, she’d seen a few of her actions for herself. I liked Angela. She was smart, and she was sassy.

  “Want to go out for lunch today?” I asked.

  She grinned. “Love to. The café around the corner?”

  I shook my head. “Someplace we can talk quietly.”

  Her eyes lit up with interest. “What about that new Indian restaurant on Mercer? Their food’s terrific, and I love their curved booths. They’re never busy at lunchtime.”

  “Awesome. Can you leave at twelve thirty?”

  “I’ll wait for you here, and we can walk over.”

  Sally stopped by my office to tell me again what a big success the party had been. “Terry’s article will be in Friday’s paper.”

  “That’s nice.”

  She shot me a puzzled look, but I refused to pretend I was happy when I was furious with Dorothy. “Well, I thought I’d let you know.”

  “I appreciate it, Sally,” I called as she left.

  I sat at my desk, mulling over the Dorothy situation. Confronting her wouldn’t help. She’d only deny it. Sally refused to hear a bad word against her bosom buddy, and I refused to bring Uncle Bosco into it. Retaliation would only make things worse.

  I forced myself to check through my e-mails. The many messages from patrons complimenting me on the Halloween party got me out of the doldrums. I had to do something about the Dorothy problem, but my job was my priority. As Evelyn put it, I had to relate to the library’s patrons and provide programs they’d enjoy.

  An idea suddenly occurred to me: I could have local chefs give cooking demonstrations at the library. The patrons would love it, and the chefs would have an opportunity to promote their restaurants and sell their cookbooks, if they’d written any. I switched tabs and Googled restaurants in Clover Ridge and neighboring towns. I pulled out a legal pad and began jotting down names and phone numbers. It was probably too early to call them, but Trish could start phoning them this afternoon.

  “Hello, Carrie. How are you this morning?”

  I glanced up. Evelyn perched on the edge of the chair across from my desk.

  “Not very good. Someone smashed my car window last night, and I think that someone is your niece, Dorothy. She threatened me at the party.”

  Evelyn’s face took on a strange expression. “She did?”

  “She told me she wanted me out of here, and then my car was vandalized. No other car was touched. Only mine.”

  Evelyn bit her lip. “Did you tell your uncle?”

  “No, but I’m tempted to, especially since Sally won’t hear a word against her best friend.”

  “I tried to stop her,” Evelyn said, “but she couldn’t hear me. I’m sorry, Carrie.”

  “You saw her break my car window?”

  “Alas, I did. I tried to grab her arm, but she never saw me or felt my presence.”

  “Oh.” Instead of upsetting me, Evelyn’s confession brought me solace. I was glad to know she’d tried to stop her niece. Though I couldn’t call on her as a witness, I now knew for certain that Dorothy was guilty.

  “She’s out of control!” Evelyn cried. “I can only hope and pray that she didn’t—”

  “Didn’t what?” I coaxed.

  But Evelyn refused to say. I’d never seen her so upset. She muttered “The foolish girl” again and again under her breath.

  “What time did Dorothy do this?” I asked. “And what were you doing in the parking lot? I’ve never seen you anywhere but inside the library.”

  “I can’t talk about it!” Evelyn’s hands fluttered to her face. For the first time, I realized that, ghost or not, she was almost as old as my aunt and uncle.

  A moment later, she was gone, leaving me with several questions that required answers.

/>   * * *

  “I know Dorothy smashed my car window, but I’ve no way of proving it,” I said when Angela and I were seated in a semicircular booth. The restaurant was perhaps a quarter full. Tasteful art decorated the pale-pink walls. Human-sized statues of Hindu gods and goddesses stood in the far corners of the room.

  “She’s a nasty piece of work. And shrewd. Very shrewd,” Angela said. “You’ll need evidence to prove it to Sally.”

  Our waiter approached to ask what we’d like to drink. I ordered a mango lassi. Angela shot me a quizzical glance, and I explained it was a mango-yogurt drink. She ordered one too.

  We decided to go for the buffet, which was set out in metal chafing dishes along one of the sidewalls. I picked up a plate and promised myself that I would not overeat. I needed to stay alert this afternoon in order to do my work and keep an eye on Dorothy.

  I skipped the mulligatawny soup and checked out the various chicken, lamb, and vegetable offerings. I put two small mounds of basmati rice on my plate, over which I ladled chicken tandoori and chicken tikka masala. I served myself dollops of palak paneer—yummy cheese cooked with spinach—and a lentil dish mixed with onions and peas. I passed up the salad and returned to our table.

  Angela joined me a few minutes later, her dish piled high with a bit of everything except dessert.

  She giggled. “Thought I’d try everything while I’m here.”

  I glanced at her tall, slender figure. “Why not?”

  When our naan arrived, I dipped it in one of the sauces our waiter had placed on our table. “Delicious. Light and fluffy.”

  “I’m glad you agreed to come here,” Angela said. “So many of my friends say they don’t like Indian food because they don’t like curry. It’s hardly in most dishes. Besides, I like curry.”

  “Me too.” Wanting to return to the subject on my mind, I asked, “How do you know Dorothy’s a nasty piece of work?”

  “Are you kidding? Everyone on staff knows to keep out of her way. They warned me when I started working at the library. The only person who could control Dorothy was her aunt, Evelyn. She worked at the library.” A faraway look came into Angela’s eyes. “Everyone liked Evelyn. I did too, though she died a few months after I started working there. Poor thing, she slipped and fell one night getting into her car. They didn’t find her until the following morning.”