Later Sebastian moseyed over and sat on the corner of her desk. “Want to go to lunch?”
“It’s awfully gloomy,” Janet said. “We could have something delivered.”
“Yeah, we could. Or we could go around the corner to the diner and have their wonderful beef stew and crusty sesame bread.” He smiled. “Now truly, which sounds better?”
Janet laughed. “The diner it is.”
“Looks like Chelsea’s going to be tied up for a while,” Sebastian said. “Why don’t you check and see if we can bring her something? I’ll ask Amanda.”
He turned away and headed toward Miss Austin’s office.
Janet yanked her coat from her locker, grabbed her purse from the messy bottom shelf and kicked the metal door shut. She stopped by the table where Chelsea’s calm voice was mediating a disagreement between the students doing a report on Moby Dick. She lifted her head when Janet spoke her name.
“Can I see you for a moment?” Janet asked. Chelsea excused herself and walked away from the table.
“You okay?” Janet whispered. “I mean after last night.”
Chelsea grinned and nodded. “Did you sleep?”
“A little.”
“We’ll talk later,” Chelsea said and motioned toward the table. “I need to get back before they go at each other.” She rolled her eyes. “Of all the things to disagree on—a silly fish.”
“You going to be long?” Janet asked.
“Looks like.”
“Sebastian and I are running around the corner for lunch. Can I bring you something?”
“That’d be great, I’m starved.”
“Beef stew?”
“And a salad and a double order of bread.”
Janet laughed. “You are starved.”
“Burgling makes me hungry,” Chelsea said with a wink. “I’ve got to keep my strength up in case another caper’s called for.”
Janet grinned. “At least we didn’t get caught.”
“And lived to burgle another day,” Chelsea said with a chuckle.
Sebastian was winding a muffler around his neck as he joined Janet. Chelsea waved as they went out the door and turned back to the students.
The Shamrock Eatery was alive with a noisy crowd and luscious odors of onions and basil and freshly baked bread. The plate glass windows were fogged from the heavy, moist air. Janet trailed Sebastian to a back booth and shortly a server appeared and took their order. Moments later their food arrived.
“So.” Sebastian lifted a spoon filled with potato chunks and tender beef. “How’s it going?”
“Going?”
“Well, you always seem to be heading off in a dozen directions at once—you and Chelsea. What do you two find to keep yourselves so busy?” He admonished her with a bony finger. “I hope it’s nothing illegal.”
Janet flinched and looked into the clear innocence of his eyes: if he only knew.
“And I understand you have a young man.” He waved his spoon in the air. “Stephen—was that his name?”
“Prescott. How did you know about him?”
“Oh, I’ve heard his name mentioned a time or two. I didn’t mean to listen in to yours and Chelsea’s conversations, but sometimes the library gets pretty quiet and I can’t help but hear.” He smiled, showing tiny teeth. “Amanda mentioned he came in one day but didn’t stay long. Why don’t you have him come back now and then? Sometimes I get to feeling downright lonely being the only male in a roomful of females.”
“He stays busy and has to be out of town a lot.”
“Business?”
Janet nodded. “He’s a writer.” As if that explained it all.
“I see,” Sebastian said, as if he understood.
They turned their attention to the food.
“How about you?” Janet finally asked. “Anybody special in your life?”
Sebastian shook his head and the mop of copper-colored hair glistened. His eyes looked weak and delicate behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “Having someone special in my life right now isn’t important. I have other things that mean more to me.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, lots of things: new job, new people to get used to, new things to accomplish.”
“It must be scary to pull up roots from one life and try to plant them down in another.”
“One does what one must,” he said with a grin. “I’ve learned to make do.”
Janet laughed. “And an excellent do at that. You and Miss Austin have hit it off. That’s an accomplishment in itself.”
“I understand her. We’re like two wayward spirits.”
“I never thought of her as a spirit—wayward or otherwise.”
“Oh, but she is.” He smiled. “We all are.”
“I’m glad you two are friends.”
Sebastian grinned. “Amanda’s much like asparagus, she’s an acquired taste.”
“I like her,” Janet said, feeling a little guilty at the slight fib. “But she seems to have little use for me. I’ve often wondered why.”
“Maybe she’s just put off by your station.”
“Station?”
“You know, Lancaster. Money. Power.”
“Me, power? Wrong!” She tapped her chest. “No power here. No more than Chelsea and certainly not nearly as much as Miss Austin, for that matter.”
“Maybe not—as you see it. But sometimes perception is everything.”
“How about you?”
“Me? I don’t perceive—anything. I know what I know and, more important, I know what I don’t know.”
Janet glanced at her watch. “This has been fun,” she said. “I like talking to you, let’s do it again.”
“Anytime,” he said, reaching for the check.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Janet snatched the bill from his fingers. “You see if Chelsea’s take-out’s ready, I’ll get this.”
Sebastian smiled. “Do you always get your way?”
“Not always—but I do this time,” she said and gave him a push toward the pickup window.
When they got back to the library, Sebastian shoved through the front door and held it for Janet, who had her hands full.
“Soup’s on,” Janet called to Chelsea and continued on to the lounge.
“Great.” Chelsea followed along behind them. “I’ve worked up some appetite.”
Miss Austin was tossing a crumpled wrapper and paper plate in the trash can when Janet placed the food on the table, and turned to hang up her coat in her locker.
Chelsea plopped down and began opening containers, while Sebastian leaned against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. Janet dumped her purse, then pitched her coat toward the hook. The coat missed its mark and fell to the floor of the locker. She bent to pick it up just as her eye caught a glimpse of something peeking out from beneath a pile of old magazines.
“What’s this?” she said, digging into the stack.
Sebastian stepped forward. “What’s what?”
Janet’s eyes flew wide as she lifted the box.
“The cashbox,” Sebastian said.
Chelsea bolted from her chair.
“How—” She clapped a hand over her mouth.
“See there, I knew it would turn up,” Sebastian boasted.
Miss Austin turned from the sink.
“That may be all well and good, but can somebody explain how it ended up in Janet’s locker?” Her cold eyes scanned the crowd then landed on Janet. “Well?”
Janet carried the illusive box to the table and slammed it down. “You expect me to explain—like maybe I put it there?”
“Well, it didn’t crawl in by itself,” said Miss Austin. “It had to have help.”
“And you think I did it?” Janet’s voice rose in anger. “I’ll tell you one thing right now, and make no mistake about it. If I had stolen the box I certainly wouldn’t have left it in my ratty old locker where, I might add, the door hangs open most of the time and the whole world can see what’s ins
ide. And for another, I just happen to know—”
“Janet!” Chelsea exploded. “Of course you didn’t take the box.” She reached Janet’s side and took her hand.
Janet’s blue eyes glistened and she knew she was about to lose control.
“You know what I think,” Janet sputtered. “I think we should call the police. Let them come in and take fingerprints. Maybe hook us up to one of those lie detector machines or give us truth serum. Heck,” she said, sweeping her arm around the room, “let’s have the boys downtown check out the whole blooming place and find out what’s going on—that’s what I think.”
Miss Austin gave a faint chuckle.
“Really Janet, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why the publicity alone would probably shut us down for no telling how long.”
Sebastian held up a cautioning hand. “We should all take a deep breath.” His voice was soothing; calming. “I have a feeling that it’s been a prank. After all, not all our library patrons are little angels. Somebody must’ve gotten teed off with one of us and played a little trick.” He smiled. “Most of them know where the cashbox is kept—they’ve had to pay into it often enough.”
“That makes sense,” said Miss Austin.
Janet jerked around. “But—”
Chelsea grabbed her arm. “Janet, that’s probably what happened—makes sense to me.”
Amanda Austin picked up the box and headed toward the door.
“Then I suggest we get back to work, and Chelsea, finish your lunch. It’s probably cold by now.”
By five-thirty the threatening sky had given way to a heavy downpour. Janet and Chelsea left the building together and darted toward the parking lot.
“I’ll call soon as I get home,” Chelsea said before slamming her car door.
Janet was still trying to calm down as she drove home. She parked and made a mad dash for her front door. Shucking off the wet clothes, she pulled on a quilted robe and slid her feet into a pair of lime-green slouch socks. After towel drying her hair into a wild sunburst, she rolled a cotton scarf into a long tube, tied it around her head and made a big floppy bow on top. She had just started to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She opened the door a couple of inches and held it there.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello, Stephen.”
“Can I come in?”
Janet eased the door forward. “I’m not dressed.”
He touched the latch. “You look dressed to me.”
“I’m really pooped,” she said as a rush of fear chilled her body. Surely he wouldn’t try to force his way in. “I don’t feel like having company tonight.”
“Janet, is something wrong? I realize I’ve been tied up a lot lately, but you know how important the book is.” He shivered against the rain as a keen streak of lightning flashed in the distance, outlining him against a harsh sky. “You haven’t even asked how it’s coming along.” He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
He’s a good actor, Janet thought, and imagined he packed the house when he was on stage. Her hand tightened on the door. She could not allow herself to give in to his words. After all, words were his business. She had to be strong.
“I just think we need to stop seeing each other for a while. We were spending too much time together.”
“But I was looking forward to spending more, not less. Besides,” he said and gave a sheepish grin, “I was going to ask if we could go back up to Heather Dow—”
“No.” Her voice cracked and she lowered her head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not? You act as if it’s out of the question. All I want to do is have another look around, maybe spend a little more time than before. The book’s really taking off and I’d like to see the mansion and the shot tower again.” He laughed. “I can’t always trust my memory, and my notes look like a foreign language.” He stepped closer to the door and away from the rain that was splashing the legs of his trousers. “Come on,” he said with a grin, “say we can go.”
“I’ can’t talk about this right now. Goodnight, Stephen.”
Janet shut the door before he could reply. She stood with her hand on the latch and fought against the urge to call him back, to have him explain away all her suspicions. But the rumble of thunder and the pounding of the rain only increased her sense of danger.
After a light supper she burrowed into the covers of her bed and tried to concentrate on the new Nora Roberts novel she’d started. But images not on the printed page kept floating in front of her eyes: Stephen’s face when he first saw Heather Down, his enthusiasm for the shot tower, his love of old cars. But she couldn’t forget the other things: riddles on the phone, a mountain road covered with snow, a dead rose. The phone rang and broke her concentration.
“So tell me,” Chelsea said, “how did the cashbox get in your locker?”
“Seems to me it had to be put there by the same no-account rascal who had it last.”
“Stephen.”
“The same. By the way, he was here. I wouldn’t let him in.”
“Didn’t he think that a little strange?”
“He seemed confused.”
“Do you think he suspects you’re on to him?”
Janet gave a harsh laugh. “Lordy Chels, I have no idea what he thinks.”
“What are you going to do?”
Janet threaded her fingers through her tangled hair.
“I don’t know. He wants to go back up on the mountain.”
“You’re kidding. Janet, you’re not going to?”
“How can I? Hell’s bells, Chelsea, we broke into his apartment and found the torn photograph and all the other things, so we know he’s not who he says he is. Then, like the miserable rat he is, he tried to frame me with a handful of coins.”
“How did he do it—get in the library to put the box back?”
“He picks locks. Remember?”
Chelsea remained silent, as if words were beyond her.
“And now I can’t even let him in my house, so how can I go to that isolated place with him? What would you do, Chels? You know as much about the situation as I do.”
“Same as you—I don’t have a clue. Two crime solvers, we’re not. Just be careful, Janet. Don’t trust anybody—well, maybe me, but that’s all.”
“You’re right. But I’ve got to get my mind off this whole mess or I surely will be a candidate for a rubber room. Want to see a movie on Sunday?”
“Can’t. Got a date with Ethan.”
“Well, maybe I’ll go alone. I really want to see that new thriller.”
“Don’t. Ethan and I already saw it and believe me it’s not a movie you want to see by yourself.”
“Okay, how about the new Disney movie? Do I have your permission to catch the matinee?”
“You may. We saw that, too.”
“You’re seeing a lot of him, aren’t you?”
Chelsea laughed.
“Is it anything serious?”
Janet could hear Chelsea take a deep breath. “Serious? Now that you ask, I guess it is. At least on my part.”
“And Ethan?”
“Who knows,” Chelsea said. “Who the heck ever knows anything about men?”
Janet chuckled. “Certainly not me. Later, ’gator.”
“You too,” Chelsea said and hung up.
Janet lay awake for most of the night. Around three she padded to the kitchen and made a cup of hot cocoa. Just before daybreak she drifted off to sleep.
SIXTEEN
Sunday morning Janet slept late. Her body and brain were exhausted and she needed the extra fuel the rest would bring in order to get up and running. It was around noon before she stirred enough to toast a bagel and warm over day-old coffee. She sat on the sofa and ate from a paper napkin. As she nibbled, she glanced around the room and was surprised at the neglect surrounding her. When had she allowed the hateful events taking over her life to affect her natural inclination for tidiness?
She hopped up and
whirled into action. An hour later, furniture gleamed and the carpet look fresh-vacuumed. Now all that was left was the menagerie to groom. She carried the tiny figurines to the kitchen and placed them into the sink she had lined with a towel. Keeping a running commentary, she apologized for her thoughtlessness while she washed and rinsed and polished. Then she returned each one to its designated place.
“Now,” she said to the sparkling little faces, “with your permission I’m going to have a quick snack and then trot myself off to the movies.” She smiled. “I’ll see you guys later.”
At three-thirty she gave her hair a cursory whack with a brush and ignored any need for lipstick. She pulled a jacket on over her jeans and drove five blocks to the mall. Praying silently that she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew, she bought her movie ticket and stood in line for popcorn and a drink. She was trying to decide which size bucket of popcorn she wanted, when a hand touched her shoulder.
“She’ll have the large,” said a voice behind her.
Janet turned and looked into the smiling face of Sebastian.
“Thank you, kind sir. I always hate to make decisions.”
“First rule—you must be bold; second rule—and this is the most important—you must be daring.” He glanced at the boy behind the counter. “Make that an extra large with butter. We’ll share.” Then he pointed at the drink dispenser. “And two medium Cokes.”
Janet forgot all about her less-than-perfectly groomed appearance and was just happy to let Sebastian take charge. He held the huge tub between them during the movie and when they reached the bottom they ended up tossing the old maids at each other.
Moonshadows Page 18
