JAMMED WITH MURDER

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JAMMED WITH MURDER Page 2

by Donna Walo Clancy


  Janice crawled in to help Tabby decorate the tree. The lights first, silver garland second, and the ornaments last. The tree was finished off by meticulously placed strands of silver tinsel. Thelma sat at the register instructing the girls in the fixing of any bare areas she spotted around the tree.

  Janice hopped over the partition to help Thelma bring over the wrapped boxes from the wedding table area. They were arranged around the tree, largest in the back to smallest in the front. The wagon was placed kitty corner to the tree and filled with toys.

  Tabby took a can of spray snow and lightly coated the corners of the window, leaving the center clear for viewing the scene from the sidewalk. As she was finishing the last corner, people started running up the street towards the north end of town. Setting the can down, she climbed out of the window space.

  “Janice, I’ll be right back,” Tabby said, heading out the door without waiting for an answer.

  A crowd was gathering in between the police station and the library. Tabby saw Greg on the sidewalk and ran up beside him.

  “What’s going on?” she asked her boyfriend.

  “Those people over there were escorted out of the library. Someone is dead in there; I don’t know who yet,” he answered.

  Gladys Twittle, known around town as The Mouth, was up at the front of the crowd giving her opinion of who she thought it might be. Right beside her was her sidekick, Mrs. Ryan, the second nosiest person in town.

  Sheriff Puckett exited the front door of the library and looked over the crowd. He didn’t look happy as he searched for someone specific. He waved to Tillie Twittle, the assistant librarian, to follow him back into the building. She was crying and had trouble walking to the door as her legs were giving out from under her. Tabby ran to assist her. She put her arm around Tillie’s waist and walked her to the door.

  “I’ll take it from here,” the sheriff insisted.

  “No, please let Tabby come with me,” Tillie sobbed.

  “Fine, have a seat at one of the tables and I’ll be right with you.”

  Tabby led the librarian to one of the study tables and sat her down. Tillie Twittle, daughter of Gladys Twittle, was nothing like her loud mother. She had been the assistant librarian as long as Tabby could remember. Meek, small in stature, and not very pretty, she hid herself in the stacks of books and her job.

  “Do you want a glass of water?” Tabby asked her when she was seated.

  “I found her, you know. I found Mrs. Piper. She was in the basement searching through old newspapers for something,” Tillie whispered. “They’re going to think I did it for her job; I know they are.”

  “Why would anyone think that?” Tabby asked.

  “Because at the last board meeting they asked her to retire and she refused. They wanted to give the job to me which would mean a nice raise and better hours,” Tillie answered.

  “Why did they want her to retire in the first place?”

  “Her mind was going. She was putting books back in the wrong places, forgetting people’s names who have been here their whole lives, and sometimes she didn’t show up for work thinking it was Sunday. Most times, she was a very confused lady,” Tillie stated.

  The sheriff sat down at the table.

  “Judging by the fingerprint bruises already showing on her neck, Mrs. Piper was strangled from behind; she never saw it coming. Tillie, do you know what she was searching for downstairs?”

  “She came in late this morning, all upset about something. She kept repeating, “I can’t believe he’s back.” I looked around several minutes later and couldn’t find her anywhere. I went downstairs to the research area and she was tearing through old newspapers.”

  “She didn’t tell you what she was looking for?” Tabby asked, getting a dirty look from the sheriff for butting in on his interrogation.

  “No, she was acting like a crazy woman and there were newspapers thrown everywhere. She insisted I go back upstairs and man the front desk until I heard otherwise.”

  “How long were you upstairs before you checked on her again?” the sheriff asked.

  “I’m not sure. It was really busy and I was working by myself at the desk,” she answered.

  “Do you know who she was talking about that was supposedly back?”

  “I have no idea,” Tillie answered honestly.

  “I might know,” Tabby admitted.

  She proceeded to tell the sheriff what happened at the diner the previous night. She told him about the conversation she overheard and how Mrs. Piper gasped and turned around and left the diner when she saw the couple in the booth next to Tabby and Greg.

  “Do you know who they were?” Sheriff Puckett inquired.

  “I have never seen either of them before,” she answered. “Bea was their waitress.”

  “When I leave here, I will stop and talk to Bea.”

  “So, you don’t think I did it for her job?” Tillie asked.

  “No, Tillie, we don’t think you had anything to do with Mrs. Piper’s death. But, if you can think of anything else, give me a call,” he said, handing her his business card. “We are closing the library so you can go home for now. Do you have keys?”

  “Yes, I have a set and Mrs. Piper has a set; hers are on a chain around her neck.”

  “You can reopen the library in a couple of days, but when you do, no one will be allowed to go down in the research area until I say so, understand? I also need you to make a list of everyone that you can remember that was in the library around the time of the murder. Can you do that for me tonight?”

  “Yes, I understand, and I will drop off the list at your office in the morning. Do you think I am in danger, too?” she asked, timidly.

  “I think you’ll be fine,” the sheriff said, patting the back of her hand. “Tabby, would you escort Tillie outside and close the front door behind you? I’ll be down to your shop for my afternoon coffee.”

  “Tabby, will you walk home with me, please?” Tillie asked.

  “Sure, come on and don’t let your mother get to you outside,” Tabby warned. “You know she’s going to want you to tell her everything.”

  “Please, don’t talk to Gladys or anyone else for that matter,” the sheriff pleaded. “I don’t want any information about the murder released until we figure this out.”

  “Come on, Tillie. We can sneak out the children’s entrance at the back of the building,” Tabby advised.

  “Good idea. I’ll talk to you later,” Sheriff Puckett said, on his way back downstairs to the murder scene.

  Tillie walked along slowly, in no hurry to get home. Tabby assumed that the young librarian was afraid to be at home alone, fearing she would be next to be murdered.

  “Do you remember seeing anyone you didn’t know in the library?” Tabby asked, taking advantage of their time alone to further question her.

  “No, I knew everyone that was in there this morning.”

  “How long were you downstairs? Could someone have slipped in then?”

  “I suppose they could have. No one was at the front desk until I returned.”

  “Did you happen to glance at what Mrs. Piper was looking at?”

  “The only thing I saw was a newspaper article that was up on the viewer. It was a Whipper Will Daily News dated 1994,” Tillie stated. “I didn’t see the specifics of the article, just the date.”

  “That’s a good start,” Tabby said. “Can you remember anything else?”

  “The article had a man’s face.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “All I can remember is he had black hair.”

  “That will help when the sheriff goes back and looks through the old papers,” Tabby said. “Here we are. Go in and have a cup of tea and relax. Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone you don’t know; just as a precaution.”

  “Thank you for walking me home. You are the only friend that I have in this town, no one else cares,” she said, sadly.

  “I’m sure many people care,�
�� Tabby insisted. “Go have your tea and I will check on you tomorrow.”

  Tabby hustled back to the shop as she had been absent much longer than she had planned. Thelma was already gone for the day and Janice was eating her lunch at the bridal table.

  “Is it Mrs. Piper like Gladys blabbed?” Janice asked, in between bites of her salad.

  “Yes, it was,” Tabby confirmed, pulling out her cell phone to call Greg to let him know what was going on. She agreed to meet him at the diner at six-thirty.

  Customers wandered in and out of the store for the next few hours. Janice took a break and walked to The Tilted Coffee Cup to pick up a coffee for herself and Tabby. She went out the door as Sheriff Puckett walked in. He wandered into the backroom to get his daily cup of coffee and then walked around the shop waiting for the customers to leave.

  Tabby spoke up first, relaying all the information she had gathered while walking Tillie home. She also told him that she was afraid to stay home by herself figuring she was next to be murdered. He assured Tabby that he would have a patrol car pass the house once an hour to keep an eye on Tillie.

  “Did you talk to Bea?”

  “Yes, I did, but she didn’t know who the couple was either. She had never seen them before last night. We are searching for them.”

  Janice returned from her errand and handed Tabby her coffee.

  “I’ll be out back opening up the rest of the Christmas decorations,” Janice said, disappearing through the lace curtains.

  “I’m going to top off my coffee and see how my guys are doing at the murder scene,” the sheriff said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  He said goodbye to Janice and left. The girls had an hour left to work on decorating the interior of the store. What they didn’t get done, they would finish the following day.

  White glitter snowflakes were strung from the ceiling and reflected the light as they twirled around. A powder blue tablecloth was placed over the bridal table. A large fluffy snowman with a black top hat and a blue scarf holding a jar of jelly was placed on the table as a centerpiece. Smaller matching snowmen were placed around the shop on various shelves in amongst the items for sale.

  They decided to call it quits and began closing the store. Janice left for the night and Tabby went out to bring in the open flag. As she was rolling it up, she glanced across the street. The couple who sat next to them the previous night at the diner were walking hand in hand up the street.

  Tabby threw the flag into the shop, locked the door, and took off up the street after them.

  CHAPTER 3

  * * *

  “Excuse me!” Tabby yelled as she ran after the couple. “Hello; excuse me.”

  The man turned first, eyeing Tabby suspiciously. The woman turned and they stopped walking, waiting for her to catch up.

  “Can we help you?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you last night at the diner and knew that you were new in town and just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Tabitha Moon, owner of Jellies, Jams, and Weddings back there on Main Street. People around here call me Tabby.”

  “I’m Samuel Benson and this is my wife, Sandy. We just moved here and you’re the first one that has introduced yourself to us,” he said.

  “Don’t judge the whole town by that. It just takes people around here time to get to know you, that’s all,” Tabby said, smiling. “Where are you living?”

  “We rented a small house at the end of Emblem Street from a Mr. Wells.”

  “That’s where my boyfriend Greg lives; on Emblem Street. He rents from Mr. Wells, too,” Tabby said, trying to be friendly and gain their confidence. “You should meet him. He owns the Smells So Fine Flower Shop.”

  “Maybe we will someday,” Samuel replied. “Excuse us as we are on our way to dinner.”

  “Are you going to the diner? Greg and I will be there at six-thirty. Maybe we can sit together,” Tabby suggested.

  “Maybe some other time,” Samuel answered. “We must be on our way.”

  “Okay, some other time then. Nice meeting you,” Tabby said as they walked away.

  She returned to the shop and finished closing. The cats followed her around, meowing. She climbed the stairs with the cats in tow, gave them their supper and left for the diner.

  When she entered the diner, the Bensons were sitting in a booth eating. She waved, but got no response back. Plopping down in the booth opposite Greg, she let out a sigh.

  “Why the sigh? What’s up?”

  “I tried to talk to the new couple and they were very stand-offish. I invited them to eat with us and they said some other time. They live on the same street as you; down in that little house on the end of the cul-de-sac.”

  “I saw a moving truck parked on the street this past weekend. It must have been them moving in,” Greg confirmed.

  “Don’t you find it kind of weird that the day after Mrs. Piper recognizes them that she winds up dead?” Tabby asked.

  “Kind of, I guess. I never really thought about it,” Greg replied. “I’m hungry. That’s all I’m thinking about right now.”

  “You’re always hungry,” Tabby said, chuckling. “Then again, Tillie said that the library board had asked Mrs. Piper to retire and she refused. She said that lately, Mrs. Piper was confused and her mind was not all there.”

  Before Greg could comment, Bea came to take their order. She told them that this coming weekend she was going to help Jenny decorate the Until the Book Ends Bookstore for Christmas. Her daughter was almost back to her old self after being poisoned and was now looking forward to the holiday season.

  Jenny Jones had been Tabby’s best friend since kindergarten. Bea was like a second mother to her. After almost losing Jenny to a serial killer, Tabby vowed she would never let another week pass without staying in touch with her best friend.

  Bea also mentioned that thanks to Greg’s analytical mind and his working so hard to figure out how much Alex had embezzled from the bookstore while Jenny was sick, and that the money that Tabby had recovered in the secret room was almost dollar for dollar what had been stolen from the store; minus a little over a thousand dollars. The money was being held as evidence and would be released to Jenny as soon as the criminal case was over.

  As Tabby and Greg ate dinner, Tully, Dave Tullinson, the town locksmith, came in and sat at the counter. He waved to Tabby and then picked up his menu.

  “I didn’t know Tully ate supper here,” Tabby stated. “I’ve never seen him here before, have you?”

  “Not that I can recall,” Greg said. “And I used to eat here almost every night. Maybe he just usually eats earlier than we do and is already gone by the time we get here.”

  “Or, maybe he got tired of his own cooking,” Tabby joked, picking up her mocha frappe.

  “Talk around town is that your front window is a winner,” Greg said. “People are calling it an old-fashioned Christmas window; something right out of Norman Rockwell’s calendar pages.”

  “I have to admit, it is beautiful,” Tabby replied.

  “The other talk around town is that Mrs. Piper was one of the secret judges. Now they have to find another judge,” Greg stated.

  “What a shame. Mrs. Piper had never been a judge before and she so loved Christmas. Her house lit up the whole street where she lived it had so many Christmas lights on it. Several years ago, she decided she was getting too old for ladders so she started leaving the lights up year-round. She left them unplugged until Thanksgiving night when everyone would gather around her house and the lights would be turned on for the first time. It was kind of the unofficial start to the Christmas season in Whipper Will Junction. You were in Larsen with your aunt so you missed it.”

  “I wonder if the new owners of the house will do the same thing?” Greg pondered.

  “Depends on who buys it, I guess,” Tabby replied.

  The Bensons got up to leave. Sandy waved to Tabby as they left. She waved back and Sandy smiled. Tully watched them until
they were out the door. Only Tabby seemed to notice the locksmith’s interest in the town’s new residents.

  CHAPTER 4

  * * *

  It was Thelma’s day off so Tabby had to stick close to work. She was upstairs cooking while Janice was finishing the interior Christmas decorating around the shop. She would use her lunch hour to go and check on Tillie.

  At one o’clock, Tabby finished cooking and went down to cover Janice for lunch. She decided to do a quick inventory of what was left on the shelves. As she walked and wrote, the bell chimed on the door to let her know someone had entered.

  Sheriff Puckett stood there with an empty coffee mug.

  “I’m here for my usual,” he said, walking to the backroom where the coffee machine was kept.

  “Anything new on Mrs. Piper’s murder?” Tabby asked.

  “Not yet. We are going through all the newspapers that she threw around and that takes time. I also called the editor of The Whipper Will Daily News and gave him the date and picture information to see if he could speed up the process using his records to find what she was looking at when she died,” he answered.

  The door’s bell chimed again; this time Tabby was shocked at who entered the shop.

  “Hi, Tabby. I had to come see your shop,” the woman said, as she walked up to the pair.

  “I’m glad you decided to visit. Sheriff Puckett, I’d like you to meet one half of Whipper Will Junction’s newest residents; this is Sandy Benson. Sandy, Sheriff Puckett.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” she replied, extending her hand.

  “No one around here calls me sir,” he chuckled. “Just call me Sheriff; it’s used more than my first name.”

  “Okay, Sheriff it is. Tabby, I have a favor to ask of you. We want to buy and not rent, but we don’t know a good real estate agent for the area. Do you have any recommendations?

  “I thought that you were all settled in on Emblem Avenue?” Tabby asked.

  “Oh, we are for now. We really want to buy our own house in the near future. We only signed a lease for six months,” she replied.

 

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