Literally Dead (A Pepper Brooks Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Eryn Scott

  I wrinkled my nose at the memory of Detective Valdez’s cold demeanor and decided to take the book with me, just in case he needed proof. Though, checking a book out would mean I had to go by the front desk.

  Tiptoeing to the end of the row of bookshelves, I peered out until I could see him. He was sitting on the tall circulation desk stool, swiveling back and forth as he concentrated on the paperback folded in half in his hands. Well, there was one point against the guy. Why did some people always feel the need to strangle books, bending them all the way back?

  All I really knew about him was that he’d started working here in the summer, which meant I saw him a lot, being a local and — as you may have guessed — a frequenter of the library especially when I had it almost all to myself. I knew his name was Alex. And he’d said hi to me, twice. Also, his hair was thick, wavy, dark, and sometimes when he was reading it would fall onto his forehead like he was Clark Kent’s Latin younger brother.

  Chewing on my lip as I watched him, I wished I had taken more than six minutes to get myself ready. But just as soon as it came, I shook the thought right out of my head. No. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t dating any more guys from the university.

  It wasn’t like I was celibate or anything, I was simply tired of getting serious with guys only to find out their future plans all involved leaving once they graduated. I didn’t blame them. I’d simply come to the realization I was different than ninety-nine percent of the student population, having grown up here and planning to stay. For a person who loved Pine Crest and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, the words, “once I move back to…” were a deal breaker. I mean, knowing I was going to lose Liv at the end of this school year was hard enough.

  Plus, college was a lot of work. I was super busy with reading and writing essay after essay and… you know… a bunch of other stuff like… taking care of my new dog. My schedule was booked. No time for boyfriends, even ones who have dark brown eyes and skin the color of vintage book pages.

  I blinked, bringing myself back to reality. Hamlet. I had the copy and — I checked my watch — only twenty minutes to get to class. Swinging my messenger bag behind me, I headed down the spiral staircase.

  Sliding the book forward on the counter, I swallowed as I waited for him to look up.

  “Oh, hey,” he said, his brown eyes meeting mine.

  I smiled and held out my ID card. “Hi.”

  He put aside his book, laying it flat on its pages, spine straight up as he took my card and scanned the barcode on the back. I cringed, fingers curling into my palms so I might resist reaching out to save the poor, bent book. I did notice he was reading Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut and forgave his book-strangling tendencies, slightly.

  “Good book,” I said, motioning to his crumpled paperback.

  “I’m liking it a lot more than I thought I would.”

  He grabbed the one I was checking out and moved to scan it, but didn’t get far. Freezing, he glanced at the title of the play and then looked back at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Hamlet?”

  I kicked the toes of my sneakers against the circulation desk as I nodded and kept any Shakespeare fangirling at bay. Liv always told me I came on too strong when anyone asked me a question about books. As much as my stomach fluttered excitedly at the prospect of a literary conversation with the cute library guy, I decided to wait and let him ask the questions.

  “Is this because of that guest professor who killed himself last night?” he asked.

  I sucked in a breath. Oh, I see. Not a literary conversation after all, just regular campus gossip. Slightly disappointed in him, but willing to forgive him again, I nodded.

  “You hear some amateur found him and messed up the whole crime scene?” He rolled his eyes.

  My head shot back, indignant. “Well — um — I hadn’t heard that. I heard she was shocked and didn’t know what she was dealing with at first. Her actions after she figured out he was dead sounded really instinctual, though.” I was suddenly very glad I hadn’t blurted out it had been me who’d found him and even though I still didn’t want him to know, I couldn’t help trying to repair my reputation a little if those were the rumors going around.

  His shoulders settled as he stared at me. “How do you know it was a ‘she’ who found the body?”

  “I’m an English major. That’s my building.” I shrugged, hoping he couldn’t read my mind.

  His gaze deepened for a moment and then his eyes roamed over what he could see of me over the large desk.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” he said at last. “You found the body.”

  5

  Shaking my head noncommittally, I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can I please have my book now?”

  Alex scanned the barcode on the back of the book, keeping an eye on me as he did so. He was moving to hand the book back to me, when his hand stopped. My fingers grabbed at air.

  “What?” I asked, letting my hands fall onto the circulation desk in exhaustion.

  “How else would you know the connection between what happened last night and Hamlet? Word doesn’t travel that fast, not even on this campus.” He stood up from the stool and pushed his shoulders back as he rose to his full probably six-feet-something height.

  My fingers tapped on the cool wood of the counter between us as I tried to think. Something he said clicked in my brain.

  “If word doesn’t travel that fast, how do you know about the Hamlet connection?”

  His jaw clenched down tight for a moment. My eyes widened as I recognized that expression. Tall, tan skin, dark eyes, disapproving looks. It all added up. I glanced at the student ID card clipped to the bottom of his blue hooded sweatshirt, visible now he was standing. Alex Valdez.

  I gasped and pointed. “You’re his son! Detective Valdez is your father. That’s how you know, right? You look just like him, you know, especially when you’re angry.”

  “Hold on, hold on. I don’t think it’s any concern to you who my dad —” His face lit up with realization. “That means I was right. It was you.”

  “Okay, yes. It was me. I found the body.”

  “And what are you going to do with this copy of the play?” He pulled the book back toward him protectively.

  “It’s absolutely none of your business.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “It absolutely is. My father is heading up the investigation.”

  “And?”

  “He doesn’t need someone reading the contents of a victim’s suicide note to the whole campus.”

  Frowning, I said, “That’s not what I’m going to do with it.” I tapped my foot, deciding how much I should tell this Alex character. “I was checking it out so I could show the police, actually.”

  “What are you going to show them? They already have the note.” He shrugged, nodding hello to two students entering the library.

  I picked at the hem of my sweater. “Well, I think that’s kind of police business, actually. Even though your dad might feel it’s okay to discuss a case with you, I don’t.”

  “I am — police, that is. Well, almost.” Alex rolled his eyes at me. “I only have a few more credits to take and then I’m going to go to the academy.” He stood up even taller as he talked about it.

  “Following in Dad’s footsteps, huh?” I didn’t say it in a teasing sort of way, just thoughtful. It was interesting to meet someone who didn’t seem conflicted about following a family profession.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty much what I’ve always wanted to do. My mom was a cop, too.” His eyes shifted down to the counter and he cleared his throat.

  Was. I knew that word all too well, having to use it when I talked about Dad now. It still stung every time. The sullen tone Alex had used made me pretty sure his mom hadn’t just found a different profession. He’d lost a parent, like me.

  Despite the fact I felt a sad kinship with him, the guy was still looking at me like I was a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. I
didn’t press him with any questions about her.

  “So you gonna let me have my book?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I suppose.” He sighed. “But really, what do you think this is going to prove?”

  Maybe it was his churlish attitude, maybe it reminded me of his father, but something made me feel like I could trust him. I paused for a moment before saying, “Well, the soliloquy was written incorrectly. I mean, it was only one word that was slightly different, but it was bugging me all night and I wanted to come check this morning.”

  “Didn’t trust the Internet.” He nodded in approval.

  “Dr. Campbell was a serious Shakespeare nerd. There’s no way he would miss this word. I don’t think he committed suicide. I think he might have been…” I leaned in closer and let my eyes widen for effect. “Murdered.”

  Alex’s face didn’t tense up like I hoped it would at that word. “Huh. Interesting. Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to let the police know.”

  My shoulders dropped in relief. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Alex handed me the book, finally.

  “Thanks,” I said and was about to leave when I thought of something else. “Why do you work in the library then? If you’re studying to be a cop?”

  He shrugged. “I like to read. I was almost done with my courses down in California, so I don’t have a full schedule and this gives me a little extra cash,” he said. I felt like there was something more, but after a few seconds of silence, it appeared he was going to hold onto it.

  Nodding, I pressed my lips together. Alex handed me my ID card back, but not before glancing at it.

  “See you around, Pepper.”

  Smiling back at him, I was thankful he hadn’t said anything about my crazy name. I loved being named after my grandma, but I could’ve done without the teasing growing up and the weird looks now I was older. Also, “Pass the Pepper, please” is only funny like once.

  “Thanks, Alex,” I said and then left. As I walked, I pulled out my phone and messaged Liv.

  “Though he be but hot, he is fierce. #libraryguy”

  Liv responded right away.

  “Fierce can be good… shrugs”

  I shook my head.

  “Not in a smoldery, ‘I’m so into you I must eschew the world and it’s expectations so I may spend my life fighting for you’ way. This was more of an annoyed ferocity.”

  Liv, used to my longer-than-normal texts, replied quickly.

  “Boo. Sorry Peps. :’( Also… you’re such a nerd.”

  I laughed and put my phone away, heading to class.

  I didn’t get a break until the afternoon, so by the time I walked into the police station in town, two blocks south of campus and the complete opposite direction from my apartment, I was about to burst with my information.

  Ernie Mason was sitting behind the large wooden desk in the foyer. He had been the crossing guard at my elementary school growing up, but after a few close calls (namely with the Joshua brothers and their infamous trucks), he’d decided to move to a safer job while still helping the good people of Pine Crest. He’d been the receptionist at the local police station for the past ten years, at least.

  “Why, Pepper Brooks, when did you go and grow up on me?” Ernie walked out from behind the desk and enveloped me in a bear hug, well, maybe a baby bear hug. Ernie was a small man, shorter than my five-foot-five self, and slight as could be. He had a small mustache which barely covered his thin lip, beady eyes, and a smile as wide as anyone.

  “What brings you in here?” His thin eyebrows furrowed together as he let go of me.

  “I need to talk with Detective Valdez, Ernie. It’s really important.”

  The entirety of I knew about criminal investigations was from what I’d read in books, so I didn’t know the protocol about interrupting an officer currently working on a case. However, I hoped he would consider a potential murder worthy of an interruption.

  Ernie shook his head and tsked. “That new one, huh? Replaced George after he retired, you know. Still can’t quite get a read on him.” His blue eyes narrowed as he thought about the detective.

  “Wait. George retired?” So that was why he hadn’t been there yesterday. “Gosh, I must be out of the loop. I didn’t realize that, or how we’d gotten a new detective in town. When did this happen?”

  “Early in the summer.” Ernie set a hand softly on my shoulder. “Oh, it’s okay, Pepper. You’ve been dealing with quite a bit in the last year. We understand.”

  My gaze dropped to my shoes. “Yeah,” was all I could get out.

  I suppose I had been a little out of touch with Pine Crest lately. Heck, I hadn’t even known Naked Newt had bought Bittersweet, our local coffee shop and cafe, from Kathy (Liv and I had been unpleasantly surprised to see him behind the counter the other morning when we’d gone in for our normal fix). Newt was known for starting a new business every few months though, so my guess was he wouldn’t last long in the latte and bakery business.

  “The detective is in the back, in his office, if you’d like to see him.” Ernie motioned behind him with a quick jerk of his head.

  I nodded, then I headed down the hall in the direction he’d shown me. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my fingers around the strap of my messenger bag, slightly buoyed by the knowledge I had the book in my bag for evidence, in case Detective Valdez didn’t believe me.

  His door was shut, so I knocked.

  “Come in.” The words were barked out from behind the glass and I opened it, slipping inside before I changed my mind.

  Growing up in a close-knit community, where everyone had known me since I was in diapers and remembered when I used to make daisy necklaces for everyone definitely spoiled a person. I wasn’t used to adults who didn’t smile when they saw me or comment nostalgically about a time when I’d done something particularly adorable years earlier.

  Detective Valdez looked at me like I was a nuisance instead of a town treasure. And it flustered me a bit.

  “Hey, um — how are you, Detective Valdez?” I stammered, closing the door behind me.

  It took a good few seconds before he glanced up from his computer screen again. A good few seconds I spent growing more and more nervous, more and more unsure of myself. What the heck had I been thinking? Of course the police wouldn’t want some random college student’s help on a suicide/murder case. I shook my head and was about to pretend like I had somewhere else to be right then when he turned his attention to me.

  “Hello.” His dark eyes narrowed for a moment. “Ms. Brooks was it?”

  I nodded.

  “And how can I help you? You forget something?”

  Tipping my head to the side, I said, “Well, not exactly forget, more like didn’t realize until this morning.” I pulled the book from my messenger bag and flipped to the soliloquy. “You see, detective, I’ve been memorizing Hamlet’s soliloquy for fun, Fergie said something the other week about how not enough people memorize things these days and our brains are all going to mush because our phones do everything for us. Well, that’s why I moved his hand.”

  I suddenly remembered Alex saying I had ruined the whole crime scene. Those had probably been his father’s words first. I didn’t look up, knowing the detective’s dark stare would only make me more nervous.

  Swallowing, I continued. “I think it’s why the first line caught my eye in the first place, I’d been so focused on those words the last week.”

  Detective Valdez lifted his hands from the desk and opened them. “And?”

  Yep, he was still wholly uninterested in me and unamused by how I’d interrupted whatever it was he’d been so focused on before I’d come in.

  “It was wrong,” I blurted the statement before I could chicken out.

  The detective’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t show any other interest besides that. “What was wrong, Miss Brooks?” He looked like he was already thinking he didn’t have time for me, for this, for whatever was going to come out
of my mouth next.

  My fingers curled into fists in my lap. “He didn’t kill himself. He was murdered — I think. He wrote down the Hamlet soliloquy incorrectly. It said ‘might’ not ‘may.’ He just — well, a professor who specialized in Shakespearean analysis wouldn’t do that, especially not if they were planning on killing themselves. Those things take time and consideration… I’m told.”

  Valdez ran his hand across his smoothly shaven chin. He was the kind of guy who didn’t seem like he would ever let himself get a two o’clock shadow, let alone five.

  “We already know he didn’t commit suicide, Miss Brooks,” he said at last.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  6

  My eyes went wide. “Wait. You do?” I leaned forward. The man was actually taking me seriously.

  But as soon as my excitement came, it disappeared. He already knew about the clue? Did that mean…? Alex. Had he come here and told his dad what I’d divulged to him earlier this morning? Would anyone stoop so low?

  Anger burned in my chest. Curse being a rule follower and not wanting to skip classes. That sneak had beat me here.

  Unaware I was thinking terrible thoughts about his son, Valdez watched me.

  “Er — oh. Well — so you know about it already. Good.” I nodded.

  The detective’s jaw clenched tight as he returned the gesture, making me thinking, once again, of Alex. The guy was even more of a jerk than I’d first thought. He’d acted as if I had been inconveniencing him, all the while he was stealing my evidence so he could come in here and look like the hero of the day.

  I stood up abruptly, fingers curling around the strap of my messenger bag.