A Firm Foundation

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  “Sounds great. How did your morning go at the library?”

  Kate opened her mouth to tell him what Livvy had said. Then her conscience reared its head. She had promised not to tell anyone, and as difficult as it was, she thought she’d better not confide even in Paul. All it would take was one accidental reference, and Livvy and Danny could find themselves in desperate straits—if the author of that anonymous note was serious about the threats.

  “There’s something odd about the circumstances of the closing,” she said cautiously, “and I want to find out what it is.”

  “Uh-oh. Detective Hanlon is on the prowl again. Look out, America.”

  She grinned at him. Then she remembered her most recent discovery. “Oh! I almost forgot. What is asbestos abatement?”

  Paul stopped in the act of pulling a carton of milk from the refrigerator. “I don’t know. Sounds as if it has something to do with asbestos removal. Where did you hear that?”

  “I overheard two men talking at the library.”

  “Why didn’t you ask them?”

  Kate smiled slightly as she spread mayonnaise on wheat-bread slices. “They didn’t know I was there.”

  “Aha.” Paul chuckled. “What else did you detect?”

  Kate frowned as she thought for a moment. She could legitimately tell Paul about the library closing this way without endangering Livvy’s secret. “A moving van came this morning and started loading furniture. When I asked where they were taking it, one of the men said the things were going to be stored at a warehouse in Pine Ridge. So the library isn’t just closing for a few days, Paul. The library is going to be closed for some time.”

  Paul shook his head. “I don’t understand why no one knows the reason for the closing.”

  “I don’t either. I know it wouldn’t be a popular plan, but keeping the entire community in the dark until the day of the move seems excessive. It makes me wonder if this was planned to occur when the mayor was going to be out of town. Lawton Briddle would have had a few dozen questions for them. It’s as if someone needs it to happen before people can organize to stop it.” Kate built the sandwiches as she spoke. “Which could be exactly what’s going on. It was kept secret as long as possible, but once they started packing, it would only be a matter of time before word got around town. So there’s some urgent reason to get the stuff moved.”

  Kate sliced each sandwich in half and slid them onto luncheon-sized plates. “Those men I overheard were inspecting the building for several different things. I think it’s possible the town council has sold or is selling it. Hence, the library has to move.”

  “But why aren’t they just moving to a new location?”

  Kate opened her mouth, then closed it. “Livvy swore me to secrecy regarding certain aspects of this. But I don’t think she’d mind if I tell you this part, as long as neither you nor I tell anyone else.”

  Paul nodded. “I understand. I won’t breathe a word.”

  Kate set the knife in the sink. “There is no new location.”

  “What?” He sounded genuinely shocked.

  “The town council hasn’t found a new site for the library yet.”

  “I guess that explains the storage,” he mused. “But are they really going to store the entire contents of the library? It’s going to cost the town council a fortune. In addition to the books, there are thousands of dollars’ worth of furniture, electronic equipment, and who knows what else. They’ll have to insure it too, I imagine, and that won’t come cheap.”

  “The town council doesn’t have a fortune to spend,” Kate said. “And they’re never going to find a better location than the one we have now. So if they did sell the property, the town of Copper Mill must need money desperately.”

  “I’m not the detective in this family, but again,” Paul said, “why must the fact that the library is closing indefinitely be kept secret? Because of the community’s outrage? Which would be perfectly justified, I have to say.”

  “The only reason I can think of for keeping it a secret,” Kate said, “is if the sale of the library land benefits someone financially.”

  But who?

  Chapter Seven

  After lunch, Paul went to his office at the church while Kate decided to look into both asbestos and radon. When she had been upstairs in the library the day before, she’d noticed that several of the computers were still up and running, and she hoped to be able to use one of them.

  She was just about to leave the pleasant coolness of the house when the telephone rang. Closing the door on the heat that waited beyond, she quickly went back to the phone in the kitchen. “Hello?”

  “Hey.” It was Livvy.

  Kate set her handbag down. “Hi. What’s up?”

  “I just heard something really interesting.”

  “What’s that?”

  Livvy paused. “The town council has called a meeting at two o’clock this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon?” Kate was surprised. “But it’s Monday. Don’t some of those people work?”

  “If they do, they’re taking time off.”

  “What’s it about?” she asked.

  Livvy sighed. “I tried to call Tosten this morning to ask about getting funding to have these damaged books assessed. It’s imperative that we move quickly before they’re permanently damaged. I couldn’t contact him, so I called the vice president of the town council, Chalmers Petersen, and explained my concerns. He said he’d track down Tosten and get back to me. Next thing I know, Chalmers is calling me back to say they’re calling a meeting at two, and he’ll get me an answer as soon as he can.”

  “Okay,” Kate said slowly, thinking through the new information. “Should one of us go to this meeting?”

  “I can’t,” Livvy said. “I need to be here to supervise the packing. Can you fit it in?”

  “Of course.” Kate changed her plans without batting an eyelash. This was a heaven-sent opportunity to get a good look at the major players involved in this mess. “But am I allowed?”

  “Unless specifically mentioned as a private or closed-door session, the general public can attend.”

  It already was nearly one thirty, so Kate quickly freshened up and went straight over to the Town Hall. Town-council meetings were held in the multipurpose room, as were any other public meetings that needed space.

  She parked on Main Street, across from the row of pretty Victorian homes that lined the street, and walked to the town hall.

  When she entered the building, Kate reveled in the immediate blast of cooler air that hit her as she made her way to the multipurpose room. She paused for a moment in the open doorway. All the members of the council were present, it appeared, standing in small clumps chatting before the meeting began. She knew all of them, by sight if not personally. As she started forward, seven heads swiveled in her direction.

  Tosten Glass was not difficult to miss. Not particularly tall, he was exceedingly portly. His suit vest and jacket stretched tightly across his round belly, straining the buttons. He had a thick, bushy gray mustache that all but covered his top lip. His hair was pitch black and contrasted so sharply with the gray of his mustache that Kate suspected he either used shoe polish or a hair dye of some sort on it. It was thick and frizzy and a little long and equally thick and bushy sideburns curled down in muttonchops nearly to his jawline. She would dearly love to have a chat with his hairdresser, she thought, suppressing a smile.

  He hustled over to her as she crossed to a line of chairs against the wall and took a seat.

  “I’m Tosten Glass,” he said, extending a hand. He wore an insincere politician’s smile. Kate suspected he was incapable of not campaigning, even though he reportedly wasn’t running for office again. “And you are...?”

  “Kate Hanlon,” she said.

  “Ah. You’re the new pastor’s wife.”

  Kate had discovered that “new” was a relative term in Copper Mill. Becoming identified as a local was as tough as being called a native
Texan if you hadn’t had an ancestor at the Alamo. Smiling, she simply said, “Yes.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. How can I help you?” His handshake was disturbingly limp, and his hands were cold and clammy despite the heat of the day. He had a rather officious manner that could set a person’s teeth on edge after very limited exposure, she suspected.

  “Oh, I’d just like to watch the meeting,” she said. “I was in town, and someone mentioned it. I’ve never seen a town-council meeting.”

  Tosten looked taken aback. “Well, er—”

  “Of course you can watch the meeting, Kate.” A second man walked up. “It’s a public meeting.”

  “Hello, Floyd,” Kate said, shaking his hand as well. “Thank you.”

  Floyd Jenkins owned a local nursery. He wore his usual summer uniform, long khaki shorts with a deep green shirt emblazoned with the logo of his business. He was deeply tanned from his many hours of outdoor work.

  “If you’re expecting excitement, you’ve come to the wrong place,” he said, offering Kate a laid-back, friendly smile. A network of wrinkles carved lines at the corners of his eyes as he added, “Council meetings are about as thrilling as watching paint dry.”

  Kate chuckled. “That’s all right. It’s a cool place to sit and escape the heat, which is mighty important to me right now.” Which was true, to an extent.

  “You and me both,” Floyd said.

  As he drifted away, Kate turned back to Tosten Glass. Recalling the article in the paper, she said, “I’m sorry to hear about your personal difficulties.”

  Tosten’s forehead furrowed as he swung his head around to stare at her. With a chuckle that sounded more manufactured than genuine, he said, “I have no difficulties, little lady. My life is just fine...and getting better by the day.”

  “Oh, my mistake,” Kate said. “I saw that you weren’t running for office for personal reasons, and I assumed those reasons had to do with personal difficulties of some kind. It’s nice to hear that it’s the opposite.”

  Tosten didn’t appear to know what to say in response to that. He lowered his head and eyed Kate with a frown. Finally his defensive posture relaxed a bit, and he made a visible effort to offer her a strained smile again. “That’s right. It’s just the opposite.”

  He left her shortly afterward, to Kate’s relief. Standing close to Tosten Glass made her feel as if something slimy had touched her skin.

  She took a seat along the wall as the council members moved to the center of the room and seated themselves at a large round table. From her vantage point, Kate could see almost everyone. Floyd had his back directly to her, but everyone else offered her at least a profile view.

  Tosten opened the meeting by calling the roll. He welcomed Kate, and she got the impression that it wasn’t usual to have visitors observing council meetings, even the open ones.

  Seated next to Floyd was Chalmers Petersen, a retired school superintendent with iron-gray hair and the ramrod bearing of a military man. He was the vice president to whom Livvy had spoken, and Kate had the impression that Livvy liked and respected the man. He said little, but when he did speak, the others paid attention.

  To Chalmers’ left was Tosten, and on the other side of Tosten sat Ben Dean. Kate only knew Ben by sight. He was a huge man with heavily muscled arms that befitted his work as a local carpenter and handyman. His hair was dark, his eyes small and close set, and he sported a thick black beard that nearly obscured his mouth entirely. Like Chalmers Petersen, Dean said little, but his silence held a surly quality, and his tone was disagreeable nearly every single time he opened his mouth.

  In sharp contrast was Eva Mountjoy, the only woman on the board. Eva had been the commercial loan officer at Mid-Cumberland Bank and Trust until her retirement, and despite the fact that Kate knew that her husband had left her the previous year for a much younger woman, Eva’s expression seemed to be permanently fixed in a cheerful smile that practically guaranteed approachability. Her voice was light and sweet, but Kate had heard she had a mind like a steel trap when it came to numbers. Eva handed around minutes from the last meeting, and Kate surmised that she was the group’s secretary.

  Malcolm Dekker, the funeral-home director, sat to Eva’s left. He peered at the others through glasses with unbelievably thick lenses. His slightly prominent teeth were an unfortunate shade of yellow, and his face was long and thin, giving him the appearance of a myopic rodent. Malcolm hated to waste time, Kate noticed, and when someone—usually Tosten—began to natter on too long, he had no qualms about paraphrasing the person’s comments and rushing the meeting forward. The few times Kate observed a faint expression of amusement on Chalmers’ impassive face occurred whenever Malcolm broke into one of Tosten’s monologues. She got the impression that neither Chalmers nor Malcolm cared much for Tosten.

  The final member of the town council was Carey Carver, who owned the local feed store. He was a tall, thin man with a prominent Adam’s apple and a shock of red hair that matched his milky pale, freckled skin.

  Then Tosten announced that the reason for gathering at this unusual time was because of the impact of the previous night’s storm on the library. The storm had been only the second in fifty years to spawn a tornado that did damage in the county, the hail that had fallen was the largest on record, and so forth and so on.

  “What, exactly, was the impact?” Chalmers asked when Tosten stopped to take a breath.

  “Some of the books in the historical collection received water damage when a window broke,” Eva said, her explanation as concise as Tosten’s had been verbose. “I spoke with Mrs. Jenner a short time ago, after Chalmers alerted us to the need for this meeting. She has asked us to authorize funds for the evaluation and repair of damaged historical books. Time is a critical factor because the volumes got wet.”

  “What kind of money are we talking?” Floyd asked.

  “We don’t know.” Tosten took back control of the meeting. “If we decide to fund this, which I am not at all sure is prudent, we will have to set some financial parameters.”

  “Then how can we authorize it?” Malcolm squeaked.

  “I’m against spendin’ any money on old books,” Ben Dean announced.

  There was a general moment of incredulity evidenced by several people rolling their eyes at this spectacularly plebian point of view. Chalmers Petersen actually snorted out loud. Kate noticed Tosten’s expression was curiously blank and unreadable. The others went on just as if Ben had never spoken.

  “Mrs. Jenner spoke with a restoration expert who will assess the books for us and stabilize them.” Eva named a figure that Kate didn’t consider out of bounds in any way. It was greeted with varying expressions of interest or approval, except, of course, from Ben Dean, who Kate was beginning to believe shared a common ancestor with the Grinch.

  There was a pause. “So what do we do?” asked Carey.

  Kate doubted he ever willingly made a decision without someone else leading the way.

  “Someone needs to make a motion,” Malcolm informed him. “Another person seconds it, we discuss it, and then we call for a vote.” Apparently Malcolm was the parliamentarian of the group.

  “I move that we authorize the aforementioned amount to be used by the librarian for the assessment of books damaged by the storm,” Chalmers said promptly.

  “Second.” Floyd leaped on the chance to move things along.

  “I think it’s a waste of money,” Ben Dean groused. “The library’s closing anyway—”

  “Ben!” Tosten’s voice was sharp and overly loud. He immediately dialed down his volume, and his words were restrained, although Kate could tell he wasn’t pleased with the change of subject. “That is a separate issue with which we’ve already dealt. There is no need to go into it again.” He appeared to realize that the entire council was staring at him, and his shoulders hunched forward as he assumed a placatory tone. “It’s over and done with.”

  “Yes, but you said we’d make finding a new place
to house the library a priority,” Eva reminded him, “and we haven’t talked about it at all.”

  “We just met on Thursday.” Tosten shrugged. “It’s only been four days.”

  “Somebody at the post office said the library’s got to be closed by next Monday,” Floyd said. “I guess I didn’t realize when we voted last Thursday that all this was going to happen so fast. If that’s true, don’t we need to find a place for the library pretty quickly?”

  “People.” Tosten’s face was a flaming, furious red, although he still made an attempt to modulate his tone. “May I remind you that Thursday’s meeting was closed and confidential?” He looked pointedly at Kate. “Today’s is not, and we should not be discussing that meeting at this time.”

  “I thought his lawyer was just blowing smoke. Do you really think he’ll sue us if word gets out?” Eva didn’t appear to care about the lack of privacy of the meeting.

  “I know I would,” Ben said in an aggressive tone. “I told you we were dealing with fools.” He glared at Tosten.

  “People! Stop!” Tosten bellowed.

  Silence fell. The council president exhaled heavily and placed both hands on the surface of the table, looking down until he had regained control.

  When he raised his head, he turned to Kate. “Mrs. Hanlon,” he said in a cheery, patient tone in stark contrast to the contentious notes of a moment earlier. “I’m sorry for wasting your time this afternoon. It appears that we are going to need to go into closed session, so we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  Kate smiled at the council members as she gathered her handbag and rose. “Certainly,” she said. “This has been quite interesting. Thank you for letting me observe our democratic processes in action.”

  Was it her imagination, or was there alarm in Tosten’s eyes? Certainly, a gleam of amusement lit Eva’s gaze, and Chalmers Petersen even offered her a small smile. Floyd said, “Thanks for coming, Kate,” as she slipped from the room.

  Kate could hardly contain herself as she closed the door of the multipurpose room behind her.