A Likely Story: A Library Lover's Mystery

by Jenn McKinlay

  She finished rewinding the film and put it away in its small box. She thought about showing the names to Milton, but the image of a teary Ms. Cole stopped her. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—do anything to put Milton in harm’s way or upset Ms. Cole again. She would have to find someone else.

  She pulled out the metal drawer that housed the film and refiled the box. She was tempted to take another and continue her research, but she thought better of it. She would show the names to Sully tonight at dinner. Given that he’d spent his childhood on the islands, maybe he could give her some insight into the families of the people who had attended Dr. Rosen’s funeral all those years ago.

  She resumed her seat at the reference desk and willed a patron to come and ask her a question, any question. She’d even be happy to do in-depth research on the Connecticut state statutes if it meant she could stay busy and ignore the constriction in her chest that seemed to get tighter every time her gaze inadvertently landed on Ms. Cole.

  The early afternoon dragged, but later, a crowd of students filled the small library to bursting, for which Lindsey was profoundly grateful. Midterm papers were under way, and she spent her afternoon helping fifty kids choose their science fair projects. They had it all going on with everything from manufacturing a manmade cloud to hair-raising projects with static electricity.

  Milton arrived, and Lindsey noted that Ms. Cole gave him a frosty glare and then turned her back on him. Milton looked crestfallen, and Lindsey felt her chest get tight again.

  This was her fault. She crossed the library and joined Milton in the room where he was setting up for his chess club. She knocked on the doorframe, and he glanced up from the board he was laying out with a hopeful expression. When he recognized Lindsey, he was clearly disappointed but quickly tried to hide it.

  “Sorry,” she said. “You were hoping for someone else?”

  “Eugenia is a bit put out with me,” he said. “She’ll come around . . . eventually.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lindsey said again. Truly, she felt as if all she’d done was apologize today.

  “Not your fault,” he said. He gave her a stern look. “It was my idea to linger after the meeting and my bad judgment to go outside without letting you know what I was doing.”

  “That’s not—” she protested, but he waved her off.

  “Yes, it was foolish. There’d been a murder, a cold-blooded murder, and I waltzed out into the night without even considering that it could be dangerous.”

  “Why would you?” Lindsey entered the room and picked a pawn up from the game board. She turned it over in her fingers. “We aren’t criminals. We don’t think like they do. Why would you have suspected danger when by all accounts it was a person in need of aid? It’s not your fault any more than it’s mine.”

  Milton gave her a closed-lip smile. “We’ll shoulder the blame together then?”

  “The burden will be lighter that way,” Lindsey said. She gave Milton a half hug. “I am so glad you’re all right. I couldn’t bear it if you’d been more seriously injured.”

  “Me either,” he said and then laughed.

  The door banged open, and members of Milton’s chess club began to stream in. Lindsey waved at him as she walked back out into the library. She could feel someone watching her as she crossed the room, and she didn’t have to look to know it was Ms. Cole.

  Time, she assured herself, refusing to look and see the hurt or accusation in the lemon’s eyes. It was just going to take time.

  Lindsey hurried out of the library at five o’clock on the dot. Sully’s truck was parked at the curb, and he hopped out to open the door for her as soon as she appeared.

  Sully gave her work outfit, a skirt and heels, an appreciative look as he helped her into the truck.

  “I am pretty sure librarians didn’t look like you back in the day,” he said. “I would have noticed.”

  “Mr. Tupper was your town librarian for thirty years,” Lindsey said. “I’m pretty sure he never showed this much leg.”

  “Thank heavens,” Sully said, and Lindsey chuckled.

  He shut the door after her and circled around the front. It was a very short drive to the Blue Anchor, but since they had no idea if the two collectors would show up or when, they were planning to be there for the long haul, and this way Sully could take Lindsey home afterward.

  They parked in the lot next to the restaurant. As the cold chased them toward the building, Lindsey could hear the sounds of voices raised in chatter and laughter. The distinct smell of the restaurant, a savory combination of fried fish, malt vinegar and lemons, greeted them on a puff of warm air as Sully hauled the door open.

  He gestured for Lindsey to go first, and she led the way into the dimly lit, lively restaurant. The bar was full, save for two seats on the far end. Sully made for them, gesturing for Lindsey to follow. Lindsey scanned the tables, which were mostly full, just to be sure that Hodges and Perkins weren’t already seated.

  As her gaze swept the crowd, she saw Carrie Rushton enjoying dinner with Dale Wilcox. Carrie was the president of the Friends of the Library, and Dale was an ex-con. They were an unlikely pair, but since Dale was a very well-read ex-con—he had even named his boat Pilar after Hemingway’s—they did have common ground in the bibliophile sense.

  Carrie saw Lindsey and waved, and Dale gave her a nod. Lindsey waved back and returned the nod, but Sully had her hand in his and was moving toward the two seats as if they were a checkered finish line, so there was no time to chat.

  Lindsey shrugged off her coat and dropped it on the back of her stool while Sully did the same.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you,” he said, “but I didn’t want to lose prime seating.”

  “No, I’m with you there,” she said. She slid onto her seat. The view of the front door was spot-on. “These are perfect.”

  “Well, now my bar is the prettiest in the state,” Ian Murphy said as he swabbed down the wood in front of Lindsey and Sully.

  “I try,” Sully said. He ran his fingers through his dark curls and fluttered his eyelashes.

  “Oh please,” Ian said. “A face like that is only good for making babies cry. I was talking about Lindsey.”

  “Making babies cry?” Sully gave him a look of mock outrage. “That may be, but it’s better than that glass shatterer you call a mug. Honestly, how my sister wakes up to that every day, I’ll never know.”

  “All right, you two,” Mary said as she joined her husband behind the bar. “We all know that once you boys get started with the insults, the pair of you can go on all night, so I’m stopping it right now.”

  “He’s just jealous of my rugged good looks,” Ian said.

  “Stop,” Mary said. She threw a bar rag at her husband. “Go be useful and get these two their usual.”

  She glanced at Lindsey and Sully to confirm, and they both nodded.

  “Ian is awfully chipper today,” Sully said. “Anything happening that a big brother should know about?”

  “What do you mean?” Mary asked. “The man only has two emotions: happy and giddy.”

  “It’s true,” Lindsey said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a foul mood.”

  “It’s not in his nature,” Mary said. “Which is one of the many reasons why I love him.”

  Sully was studying his sister with a narrowed gaze.

  “What?” she asked.

  Lindsey watched the two of them face off. They had the same profile, same reddish brown curls, although Mary’s was much longer, and the same blue eyes that missed nothing. But the clincher was the similarity in their expressions.

  They shared a way of tilting their head, of smiling more on one side than the other in a charmingly lopsided way, and of forming a vee out of their eyebrows when they frowned, sort of like they were doing now.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” S
ully asked. He leaned forward into his sister’s personal space.

  “Nothing.” She leaned in as well, meeting him halfway across the bar.

  Lindsey was so taken with the sibling stare-off that she forgot to watch the front door. Sully and his sister reminded Lindsey a lot of her relationship with her brother Jack. He had been in town for the holidays but had gone back to Boston to finish working on a project that had gone sour in South America.

  He had promised to come back to Briar Creek before jetting off to another distant spot on the globe. Since he hadn’t gone anywhere, Lindsey wondered if his newfound inertia had something to do with his coworker Stella, whom she was pretty sure had been upgraded to girlfriend status.

  She hoped so. She liked Stella. She had a feeling the woman knew exactly how to manage Jack and, boy, did he ever need it.

  The front door swung open, and Lindsey immediately remembered why they were there. She tugged on Sully’s sleeve.

  “Sorry to break up the staring contest, but we need to focus,” she said.

  “You’re right,” Sully said. He dropped his gaze from Mary, who looked triumphant right up until he added, “We’ll talk later, sis.”

  “It won’t do you any good,” she said. “Chef is working on his new recipe for baked stuffed scallops. I’ll order it for you two if you’re interested?”

  “Yes, please,” Sully and Lindsey said together.

  Lindsey glanced back at the front of the restaurant.

  “I don’t think we missed anyone coming in,” she said. She scanned the bar and the tables, but it looked to be the same crowd as before.

  Ian returned with a glass of wine for Lindsey and a pint of beer for Sully. He opened his mouth to say something but was hailed by a customer at the other end of the bar. He hurried off, and Sully watched him with a narrowed gaze as he went.

  “The two of them are up to something,” Sully said.

  “Such as?” Lindsey asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” he said.

  Lindsey shook her head at him, and he frowned.

  “Are you waving me off?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “But—” he began to protest, but Lindsey interrupted him.

  “She’s your sister, and he’s your best friend,” she said.

  “So?” he asked.

  “So, they’re married and you don’t get to be in the middle of it.”

  Sully pursed his lips. Then he gave her a pointed look and said, “You’re right. I suppose it would be a lot easier to mind my own business if I had some business of my own to mind.”

  “What’s that supposed to—” she began, but this time he interrupted.

  “They’re here,” he said.

  Lindsey glanced at the door. Sure enough, Hodges and Perkins had just walked into the restaurant and stood stomping their feet on the rubber mat while glancing around the room for an empty table.

  Ian noticed Lindsey and Sully watching the two men, and he waved them over to the empty table right behind them. Ian exchanged a look with Sully, who nodded.

  “Do you two even need to speak to each other to know what the other one is thinking?” she asked.

  “Only to insult each other,” he said.

  He grinned at her, and Lindsey shook her head. With his dimples fully engaged, the handsome boat captain was pretty irresistible.

  As the two collectors took their seats at the table behind them, Lindsey spun around on her stool and feigned surprise at seeing them.

  “Oh, hello,” she said. “Mr. Perkins and Mr. Hodges, we met at the library the other day. I’m Lindsey Norris, the director. I didn’t realize you were still in town.”

  The men exchanged a glance, and Kevin Perkins said, “Chief Plewicki asked us to stay for a couple of days on the off chance we could help locate Stewart Rosen.”

  “She did?” Lindsey asked.

  “Asked, ordered, six of one,” Mr. Hodges began.

  “Half a dozen of another,” Mr. Perkins finished. He glanced at Lindsey and said, “Please, call me Kevin, and this is Calvin.”

  “Lindsey,” she said. “And this is Sully.”

  The men exchanged handshakes. There was an awkward moment, and then Lindsey decided the best strategy was to go on the offensive.

  “I’d like to talk to you about your work,” she said. “Do you mind if we join you?”

  “Please do.” Kevin gestured to the available seats, and Lindsey and Sully grabbed their glasses and moved to the small square table.

  “Smooth,” Sully whispered in her ear as he pulled out a chair for her.

  Lindsey knew he was teasing her, but she didn’t care, since she’d gotten what she hoped for, which was the opportunity to find out more about the collectors’ connection to the Rosen brothers.

  Mary stopped by their table and took the food and drink order for the two men. She looked puzzled that Lindsey and Sully were sitting with them, but Lindsey met her gaze and shook her head to indicate that she would explain later. Mary gave her a tiny nod and headed back to the kitchen.

  “So, have you managed to do any collecting while you’ve been here?” Lindsey asked.

  “Some,” Kevin said. “There’s a huge barn over in Madison that was loaded with stuff.”

  “Including rats,” Calvin said.

  Lindsey shuddered. “You must meet some fascinating people in your line of work.”

  “A fair few,” Calvin agreed. “Some are more hoarder than collector, but it’s amazing what you can find when you start digging.”

  “What sort of things are you looking for?” Sully asked.

  “I’m partial to anything manufactured in the U.S., you know, back when the U.S. was a manufacturer,” Kevin said. “Mostly, I like vehicle-related items, but really anything from old pottery to tin toys. Of course, I especially love its resale value.”

  “And how about you, Calvin?” Lindsey asked.

  “The same,” he said.

  He seemed reluctant to say any more, and Lindsey wasn’t sure how to keep asking questions without sounding like she was interrogating him. Then she thought of Stewart possibly kidnapped or out wandering in the cold, and she realized she didn’t care if she sounded belligerent.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Sully stepped on her foot. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a cautious look. She wanted to huff out an impatient breath, but she respected him enough to listen to his advice even when it squashed her toes.

  “I imagine you’ll find items of value here. The heyday for the Thumb Islands was the turn of the century,” Sully said. “Most of the islands had small Victorian houses on them until the hurricane of nineteen thirty-eight hit and wiped most of them clean.”

  Both men studied Sully closely, and Kevin asked, “Are you a native?”

  “Yep, I’m a Creeker,” Sully said with a small smile. He then went on to tell the men a shortened version of the same spiel he gave when he took people out on his Thumb Island boat tour. Lindsey watched him talking and realized he was building a rapport with the two men, getting them to trust him so they would be more open to answering their questions.

  “Did you grow up in the town or on the islands?” Calvin asked.

  “I grew up on Bell Island.”

  “The one with three houses on it?” Calvin asked.

  “That’s it,” he said. “My parents still live there.”

  “Our parents,” Mary said. She hefted her tray onto a nearby stand and dished out their dinners.

  “My sister, Mary,” Sully said by way of introduction. Both men nodded at her in greeting.

  “Have they lived there long?” Kevin asked. “I mean, it must get a bit claustrophobic living on an island.”

  Sully and Mary exchanged a look, and then they both shook their heads.r />
  “You get used to it,” Mary said. “Well, in our case we were raised there, so we didn’t know anything else. I think so long as you have a boat, you’re good. With Briar Creek right here, it’s not much different than driving your car into town.”

  “Back in the day, way before our time, there was a grocery store, a movie theater and even a bowling alley on Watson’s Island,” Sully said.

  “I would have loved to have seen that,” Lindsey said.

  “Watson’s is the large, flat one in the center of the archipelago, isn’t it?” Kevin asked.

  “Yes,” Mary said. “That woman Evelyn Dewhurst has been trying to buy it, but the Travers family won’t sell it. Their grandfather ran the grocery store, so even though the buildings are long gone, they are sentimentally attached to it.”

  Lindsey could tell by Mary’s sympathetic tone that she was on the family’s side. She glanced at the others to see if they noticed. Sully and Kevin looked at Mary in understanding, but Calvin looked . . . odd. Lindsey studied him a bit longer than was polite, because she couldn’t quite get a read on his expression.

  As if he sensed her stare, he turned to look at her, and when his gaze met hers, she gave him a small smile and looked away. As she did, she realized that he looked anxious. Now why would that be?

  “We’ve heard about Mrs. Dewhurst,” Kevin said. He paused to put his napkin in his lap and pick up his fork. “The officer who took our statement mentioned her. He seemed to think her contribution to the islands is exceptionally generous.”

  “Well, she is preserving the islands that have fallen into disrepair,” Sully said. “She’s given new life to several of them.”

  “But at what cost?” Mary asked. “Islands that have been in the same families for generations are losing their history.”

  “I don’t know,” Kevin said. “I buy up the old and worn out, refurbish it and sell it to people who value it. I sort of see where she’s coming from.”