Past Due for Murder

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Past Due for Murder Page 17

by Victoria Gilbert


  Pocketing my phone after my call, I took several deep breaths to slow my racing heart. I wasn’t looking forward to facing Delbert Frye again, but I knew I had to go back inside and make small talk and smile and not betray what I had done.

  No matter how difficult it would be, I couldn’t allow Delbert, or anyone in that kitchen, to know that I’d just made a call that might end in his arrest.

  Chapter Nineteen

  At work the next day, I heard the news that Delbert Frye had been taken in for questioning from at least five patrons before I told Sunny that I needed to go straighten the shelves.

  “I just did that yesterday,” she said, but I mumbled something about the Nightingale having made the rounds as soon as we opened and headed for the stacks. I knew I’d done the right thing but still felt conflicted. Running my finger along a row of books and silently reading off call numbers didn’t entirely block the image of an old man delicately plucking the strings of a dulcimer, but at least it was a distraction.

  “Ms. Webber, could I talk to you for a moment?”

  I turned, a book I’d discovered shoved behind the others on its shelf clutched in my hand. “Oh hello, Hope. What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted …” Hope stared down at her bright-red high-top sneakers. “I need to tell you something is all.”

  “Okay.” I placed the book on the cart I’d rolled over to collect misshelved items and motioned toward the reading area. “There’s a free table by the windows. Let’s head over there.”

  Hope followed me, glancing around. “It’s a little personal. I mean, I don’t want anyone overhearing us.”

  I paused to survey the area. There was only one patron and he was seated at one of the sturdy oak tables on the other side of the room. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dinterman won’t be a problem. He isn’t much of a snoop, and anyway, his hearing isn’t that good.” I sat down, pushing aside the bronze library table lamp with its green glass shade.

  “I wouldn’t bring this up, except that no one knows when they can bring Lacey out of the coma”—Hope took a seat across from me—“or even how aware she’ll be after they do. Her parents told me she might suffer lasting effects.”

  “You mean brain damage? I certainly hope not.” I used my finger to trace the faded outline of a heart and arrow etched into the tabletop—“B and W forever.” I had no idea who “B” or “W” might have been, or how long their forever had lasted, but when I’d taken over as library director, I’d resisted the suggestion that the etched memory be sanded away. Which just proved I was as much a romantic as anyone, I supposed.

  “They can’t be sure.” Hope drummed her fingers against the table. “Sorry, but this is difficult. I just thought you should know, because …”

  “Because?” I asked, as Hope chewed on her lower lip. “What is it? Something to do with Lacey?” I leaned forward, wondering if Hope was about to reveal the truth about Lacey’s real purpose in hiking the Twin Falls trail alone.

  If she knows about the gold coins and thinks Lacey was searching for the treasure … I gave Hope an encouraging smile. “It’s all right. I won’t judge, whatever it is. I promise.”

  “Okay.” Hope drew in an audible breath. “It’s just that I’ve spent a good bit of time talking to Lacey’s parents at the hospital. There’s a lot of sitting around doing nothing under those circumstances.”

  “Yes, I know that quite well,” I said, recalling the events of the past summer and fall.

  “Well”—Hope tugged at one of her tight braids—“they mentioned something about Lacey dating a mysterious guy for some time now. Apparently, they’d had words about it because it was an older man. Considerably older. That’s the one thing her parents could figure out even though Lacey always refused to introduce him to them. She said that she couldn’t. So I thought that perhaps there was something to that idea that she and Mr. Muir …”

  “What?” I sat bolt upright in my chair. “No. That’s ridiculous.”

  “I’m sorry, it just seems to fit. According to her mom, this relationship started up around the time that Lacey first worked with Mr. Muir two summers ago, when she danced in some one-off collaborative performance sponsored by the music and dance departments.”

  “But that was before …” I tightened my lips over my gritted teeth.

  Soon after Richard and I had met, he’d told me about a short-term program he’d participated in at Clarion—something related to the university wanting to foster cross-discipline events. I remembered this because he’d also mentioned how much he’d disliked Charles, who’d provided the music for a piece that Richard had choreographed. Richard had claimed that Charles had been rude to his dancers, even bringing some of them to tears. Which was why Richard had refused to ever work with Charles going forward and had never again allowed him to play for any of his dance studio performances.

  No, it couldn’t be. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging my upper arms. Although I could picture Richard comforting a distraught dancer, especially if someone as acerbic as Charles had cut them down …

  “That’s impossible,” I said, meeting Hope’s questioning gaze with a lift of my chin. “You can’t imagine that they were involved all this time, or that Richard had anything to do with Lacey’s disappearance.”

  “I don’t know. It does seem strange, but her parents were so sure that she was seeing someone, and in secret. So when I heard about Lacey running out of Mr. Muir’s office in tears …”

  “He explained that to me. It had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

  Hope narrowed her brown eyes. “That’s what he told you, anyway.”

  I shoved back my chair and leapt to my feet. “This is all supposition and innuendo. There are plenty of older men on and off campus who could’ve been involved with Lacey.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mr. Dinterman looking up from his magazine.

  “Maybe,” Hope said, standing up to face me. “But there’s talk on campus. And with what Lacey’s parents said … well, I just wanted to put you on your guard. I may be young, but I’ve hooked up with a few people and I know sometimes you don’t see things clearly when you’re in love with someone. It’s easy to fool yourself and pretend someone is something they’re not.” She shrugged. “Done that myself a couple of times.”

  “This is totally different.”

  “Probably. But I thought I should tell you what Lacey’s parents said, mainly because I didn’t want you to be blindsided if there was any truth to it. Sure, just because it was an older man doesn’t mean it’s Mr. Muir, but he does fit the profile, and Lacey does interact with him on a regular basis. She always talked about how much she likes him too, which is the other thing that made me wonder. You know how people like to mention someone they’re involved with, even if they have to keep the true depth of the relationship a secret. Anyway, it just seemed like something you should know.” Hope looked me over. “I like you, Ms. Webber. That’s the only reason I came here today. If there’s any truth to the rumors, I don’t want you to be the last to know.”

  I thrust my hands into the pockets of my slacks to hide their trembling. “Thank you for your concern, Hope. But if that’s all, I need to get back to work.”

  “Sure. You just take care of yourself, okay?”

  “I will. Now, excuse me.” I turned away and practically ran back to the circulation desk.

  Sunny poked her head out of the workroom. “Was that Hope Hodgson?”

  “Yeah.” I shifted a stack of books from one end of the desk to the other.

  “What did she want?”

  “Nothing, really. She was just updating me on Lacey’s condition,” I said without looking at Sunny.

  “Which is?”

  “Same.” I turned to her. “Do you mind if I take the afternoon off? I’m not really feeling too well.” I pressed my palm against my forehead. “Headache.”

  Sunny examined me with a critical eye. “Okay. I took off the other day, so it’s onl
y fair.”

  “You already paid me back by covering yesterday afternoon, but thanks. I really need the break. I’m just going to check something on the staff computer and then I’m heading out.” I slid past Sunny and dashed into the workroom before she could say anything else.

  Firing up the computer, I typed in a search, then peered at the screen, half hoping I’d get no results.

  But there they were—photos of Richard with members of his dance studio. Mostly group shots, but there was one of him with his arm draped around the shoulders of a blonde girl. True, the information linked to the photo said it had been taken when Lacey won some sort of prize for her junior year choreography project, but …

  I clicked away from the images and slumped in my chair. The idea that Richard could have been involved with one of his students went against everything I thought I knew about him, everything I believed in my heart. It wasn’t possible.

  Yet I’d been wrong before. A little over two years ago, when I had still been involved with Charles, I would’ve never imagined that he would cheat on me with the violinist in his new trio.

  I could write that off as Charles being fundamentally unable to be faithful to anyone. Except … as far as I knew, Charles and Marlis had lived together as a couple until her death, so it seemed he was capable of maintaining a longer-term relationship. Just not with me. Maybe Richard wasn’t capable of monogamy either, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Perhaps he also needed more than I could offer—with someone who could truly share his love of dance.

  I stared blankly at the screen saver for a moment, then leapt up and grabbed my jacket and purse. “Taking off,” I called out to Sunny before shoving my way through the workroom’s exterior door.

  I needed clean air and quiet. I had to escape, and to someplace where I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. Thankful that I’d driven to work, I circled around the building to reach the parking lot and jumped into my car. I took off, not certain where I was going until I drove outside of town and onto the road that led to the Twin Falls trail.

  * * *

  When I reached the small parking lot at the trailhead, I slipped my keys and phone in my pockets and locked my purse in the trunk. I was dressed for work, not hiking, but decided that it made no difference. It isn’t important, I thought. I won’t walk far.

  I also didn’t care that my leather loafers were getting scuffed by the rocks and twigs under my feet, or that the sweat dampening the armpits of my ivory cotton blouse would probably leave stains.

  It doesn’t matter, I thought as I stormed down the trail. It just doesn’t matter.

  I was so wrapped up in my own anxiety that I didn’t hear the man walking up behind me.

  “Amy,” he said, “what are you doing out here?”

  I wheeled around and stared up into Ethan Payne’s handsome face.

  “Oh hello.” I tugged my rumpled blouse down over the waistband of my black slacks. “Just taking a walk.”

  Ethan’s gaze swept over me. “Not really dressed for it, are you?”

  “No, I guess not. I came out here on a whim.”

  “Well, be careful,” Ethan said, pointing at my feet with the butt of his rifle. “Those shoes aren’t suitable for this trail.”

  He was wearing camouflage pants and a tan shirt, with a fluorescent orange vest and hiking boots.

  “You look ready to stalk some game. But I thought you said it wasn’t hunting season.”

  “It isn’t. I just bring the gun along in case I run into any copperheads or rattlers. Or bears,” he added, giving me a significant look. “There are some up here, you know. Bobcats too, although they usually aren’t prowling around in the middle of the day.”

  “So you’re just taking a hike as well? Without your dog this time, I see. And … how did you get here exactly? I saw another vehicle parked at the trailhead but didn’t notice you behind me until you suddenly appeared.”

  “I left Callie at home today. Didn’t want her chasing off after critters again. As to your other question, there’s another path that intersects with this one a little farther up the trail. It comes out on that road near Delbert Frye’s property. I parked at the trailhead and circled around to that path and then cut through the woods.” As Ethan shifted his gun to his other shoulder, he opened his clenched fist.

  A gold coin glinted against his calloused palm.

  “Where’d you find that?” I blurted out before thinking. That was foolish, Amy. If Ethan was searching for the treasure, he might not appreciate your interest. And he has a rifle. The type of gun that killed Mona Raymond.

  Ethan closed his fingers over the coin. “In a gulley in the woods.” He gazed up and over my shoulder. “Looks old, so it was probably dropped by someone crossing the mountains long ago.”

  I studied his profile. He was tall and well-muscled. He could easily overwhelm me if he wanted, and just as easily dispose of my body.

  But that was foolishness. Surely this young firefighter wasn’t a killer. I decide to test my theory of his true mission. “Out treasure hunting then?”

  Ethan dropped his gaze and stared intently at me. “What? No, I just saw something glinting in the dirt and checked it out.”

  As I met his piercing stare, I noticed his clenched jaw and realized that he wasn’t going to admit that Chris had told him about the old letter, even though I was convinced that’s what had happened. I wanted to question him further, but his glower silenced my curiosity. “I imagine that happened more than once. There must’ve been a lot of people who crossed these mountains toting all their worldly goods.”

  “Right,” Ethan said sharply as he pocketed the coin. “Why’d you say you were up here again?”

  “I just needed some fresh air.”

  “And you couldn’t get that in town? Taylorsford might be a little too built-up on the edges for my taste, but it still has clean air, as far as I can tell.”

  He wasn’t buying my story. Maybe he suspected I was another treasure hunter, searching for those gold coins. If Chris had told him about discovering the letter in the archives, Ethan could easily have surmised that I’d also seen it. I inched backward as the wind picked up, circling dead leaves around my ankles.

  “You really shouldn’t be up here right now,” Ethan said, shouldering his rifle. “It isn’t safe.” He made a grab for my arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your car.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I said, sliding my cell phone from my trouser pocket.

  Ethan reached for me again. “I really think you should come with me. I can’t be responsible for what happens if you don’t.”

  I backed away and held up my phone. “I said I’ll be fine. As a matter of fact, I have the sheriff’s office on speed dial.”

  Ethan stared at my cell phone as if it were one of those rattlesnakes he’d mentioned earlier. “Have it your way. But there’s a storm brewing. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Just making that call,” I said, punching in numbers before holding the phone to my ear.

  Ethan swore under his breath and strode off in the direction of the trailhead.

  After he’d disappeared from view, I hit the “end” button on my call, but not until after hearing the weather service alert. There was a storm coming. I looked up through the canopy of leaves over my head and noticed that the sky had darkened to an ominous purple.

  I considered making a run for my car, but Ethan had headed off in that direction and I didn’t want to encounter him again. Maybe he had no intention of harming me, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance. People had tried to shoot me before. People I’d never have expected to be killers before they’d turned on me.

  Ethan had mentioned a cutoff from the main trail. I hurried on, searching for it, but before I found the intersecting path, the wind had risen to a dull roar and raindrops pelted my bare head.

  If this trail ends at Delbert’s property, it’s also close to Charles’s house, I thought, dodging flying leaves and twigs ripped
from the trees as I jogged down the path. Even if he wasn’t home, Charles had a covered porch, which had to be a better spot to wait out the storm than the middle of a forest.

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time I reached Charles’s property, I was soaked to the skin. After banging the front door knocker, I plucked my blouse away from my body. The light fabric was plastered to my skin, outlining everything down to the lace trim of my bra. Taking additional inventory of my condition, I noticed that not only were my black slacks clinging to my legs like baggy tights, but they were also splashed with bits of dead leaves and mud. I sighed. I probably looked like a drowned rat, but I knew I couldn’t allow that to deter me. I banged the knocker again.

  Charles cracked the door open and peered out, his blue eyes widening with surprise.

  “Thank goodness you’re home. Could you give me a ride to the start of the Twin Falls trail? I left my car there before I foolishly took off on a walk.”

  Charles looked me over. “Of course, but first come inside and dry off.”

  “No, no, I don’t want to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother, and”—Charles offered me a smile—“if you need more motivation, I really don’t want you dripping all over my leather seats.”

  “Right,” I said as I slid by him and stood on the rectangle of ceramic tile that separated the front door from a shining expanse of hardwood flooring. “I guess the first thing I should do is take off these shoes.”

  “Good idea. You do that while I grab a towel.” Charles sprinted off toward what I assumed was a bathroom.

  I slipped my feet out of my squelchy loafers before balancing on one foot and then the other to peel off my dripping socks.

  “Just leave those on the tile and wrap up in this,” Charles said, handing me a white towel so large and fluffy I was sure he must’ve stolen it from a luxury hotel.

  Nonsense, I thought as I vigorously rubbed my head. He has the money to buy such things. After blotting some of the water from my hair, and no doubt turning it into a tangle resembling Medusa’s serpent locks, I wrapped the towel around my upper body.

 

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