Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries

by K L Montgomery

  Wow, was it just me, or was that introduction just a little bit over-the-top? If I thought the room exploded in applause for my first spiel, the introduction blew the roof off the building. Fortunately, the waving, smiling mayor, who was several inches shorter than his wife in her skyscraper heels, raced up to the podium and snatched the microphone out of my hand so fast, he nearly knocked me over. I was thrilled to slink back into the crowd as he began to drone on and on about all the books he had ever read in his entire life.

  I whipped out my camera and began taking pictures for Anna Cooper, my favorite patron, and the rest of the folks who followed the library on social media. Running our social media pages was another of my responsibilities. I didn’t mind it, and it could be fun at times. It was yet another way I strived to make myself indispensable—and if we didn’t collect enough money tonight, maybe it would be enough for me to keep my job.

  Three

  After the mayor’s impassioned plea for donations to the library, my fellow committee members and I went around collecting cash and checks in little metal pails, which we locked in the workroom behind the circulation desk to count after dinner.

  “You’ve done such a great job with this event!” my mother said. Molly and Evangeline had gotten up to “mingle” (though I could hardly imagine Evangeline doing anything of the sort), and my parents snatched up their seats. Their table had been served first, so they’d eaten eons ago now. I was still finishing up.

  “Thank you guys for coming.” After recovering from my brush with death, I mean public speaking, my appetite returned full force, and I was able to stuff my face with the delicious catered meal.

  “So that dark-haired girl you and Molly are hanging out with…that’s Evangeline?” My mother glanced around, seemingly to make sure she wasn’t coming back for her seat.

  “Yeah, oh, sorry, I should have properly introduced you. I forgot you’d never met her in person before. She’s our cataloguer…”

  “What does that mean, exactly?” my dad jumped into the conversation.

  “She catalogs books,” I answered, which was met with blank stares from both of my parents, like I was speaking a different language. “So, librarians have to classify the books, right? So they can get shelved by subject and author?”

  Now they nodded.

  “So you can search for books in the library catalog,” I went on, “and that’s only possible because a cataloguer has documented all the metadata for each book.”

  Nope, I’d lost them again. Oh, well.

  “She seems…different,” my mother observed.

  Evangeline was quiet and introverted, but we’d gotten to know each other well through the years. “She is different,” I agreed, “but she’s nice, I promise.”

  “Okay,” my mom relented, but I could tell she was still a little uneasy about my friend. I was forty-two years old, and my mother was still concerned about the friends I was hanging out with.

  “Did you get enough to eat?” I asked her and my father, and this time they nodded vigorously. Subject changes for the win!

  My father rubbed his stomach with a satisfied grin on his face. “It was pretty darn good, too, wasn’t it, Nancy?”

  “The chicken was a little dry,” my mother countered.

  Oh no. This could be the start of another one of their infamous arguments.

  Fortunately, I was saved when one of my colleagues put a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to find Jada Booker looking down at me. “Hey, Sunshine.”

  “Hey, Jada, what’s up?” She and Evangeline hung out from time to time since they were both part of tech services, but I hadn’t really gotten a chance to know her yet. She was younger, probably in her early thirties, fresh out of library school, and this was her first job in management.

  “Um, the mayor’s wife is looking for you?” She shrugged like she didn’t appreciate being forced to play messenger.

  “Camille?” I looked around the room but didn’t see the statuesque blonde anywhere.

  “She said it’s time to count the donations so her husband can announce the total,” Jada reported.

  “Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Sure, whatever.” She rolled her eyes and walked away on four-inch heels that complemented her sleek, form-fitting fuchsia dress. Ah to be young and able to walk gracefully in heels again! Though I wasn’t sure there’d ever been a time in my life that I could have been called “graceful.”

  I turned to my parents. “Well, guess I gotta go.”

  “We’ll see you later, honey.” My mom covered my hand with hers and gave me a pat.

  “Hope you’ve got a million bucks sitting down there!” my dad said, his bushy gray eyebrows waggling as he grinned at me.

  “Million bucks? That’d be nice, but it would take us all night to count!” I joked, pulling my chair out. When I got to the doorway, I glanced back at the room, taking in all the townsfolk mingling and enjoying themselves at the party I planned. Did this group look like they’d just dropped a bunch of money to support the library? I couldn’t tell, but I sure hoped so.

  Soon, Susan would usher them all back downstairs for another performance from the magician and then dancing. I’d asked Molly to take some photos for me so I could post them on our social media. Then we’d give the mayor the final tally, and we’d all celebrate the library’s good fortune—and my job being safe.

  Minutes later, I was tucked away in the workroom behind the circulation desk tallying up the spoils while everyone else partied it up on the first floor, where the DJ was spinning oldies like records never went out of style. I was a little sad that I was missing all the elder townspeople’s dance moves—always the best part of the night, but I was also anxious to see what kind of moolah we’d been able to rake in.

  We’d been at it for about thirty minutes when the mayor’s wife poked her head back in the room. “Well, what’s the final count?”

  I noticed she, Rosita and Heather had neglected their counting duties in favor of dancing. It spawned another trip down memory lane, back to high school, where I always ended up doing the work for group projects all by myself. At least I had the other committee members there to help me this time—and the mayor’s wife’s absence, as well as that of her clique, was painfully obvious to them as well.

  Trying not to dwell on it, I gathered the piles of bills and checks counted by Harriett, Chris, Clara, Melanie, Daniel and Fred. They’d each slapped a bright pink Post-It note with the total of the pile on top. I began adding everything up on a calculator that was probably older than me. I wasn’t sure I could trust its math, to be honest, any more than I trusted math that came out of my own calculator (i.e. my brain.)

  When I did finally arrive at a number, I must have been wearing quite a look of shock because Melanie Cho exclaimed, “I can’t tell if your expression is a good sign or a bad sign, Sunshine!”

  “Uh, I think it’s good? Hold on a sec…” I hastily re-added all the numbers again and arrived at the very same result. My heart pounded, thudding against my ribs as I realized that the total far exceeded my expectations.

  If this figure was accurate, we’d just pulled off the most successful gala in the history of the library. It was my first time at the helm, and I managed to achieve results far beyond anyone else’s. I kept looking down at the calculator to make sure the number hadn’t changed. Nope, it remained the same. As waves of joy crashed over me, I sent up prayers of gratitude for making our event so successful.

  “Well, don’t hold us in suspense,” Camille snarked, flanked by her clique in their sparkly, too-tight gowns.

  “It’s actually…wow…” I shook my head, still trying to get past my shock and wrap my head around the figure displayed on the calculator. “Including the donations that were collected before the event, we raised nearly a hundred thousand dollars,” I gasped.

  Everyone was silent for a moment, their jaws hanging open in awe. Then Camille’s face scrunched up. “A hundred thousand?�
� She looked at her friends and then planted her suspicious glare right on me. “The most we’ve ever raised in an evening is seventy-two. A hundred can’t be right. Let’s recount.”

  “I already added it up twice, and we don’t have time to do it again,” I argued. “Susan and the mayor are expecting me to give them the figure before ten o’clock so they can announce our final count before everyone goes home. It’s 9:50 right now.”

  “There was a particularly large donation from Willa Bryce Monroe in my pile,” committee member Fred Hillary pointed out. “Very substantial, actually.”

  I’d never been privy to the actual checks as they were received from donors, so I didn’t know what the usual amounts were, but Mrs. Monroe was the wealthiest person in Bryce Beach. A widow, she lived on a property listed in the National Register of Historic Places, and she had traced her ancestry all the way back to town founder Nathaniel Bryce. I had to admit, my eyes bugged out a little when I saw the size of her donation. It was far bigger than anyone else’s.

  Camille rolled her eyes at her friends, then turned her focus to me. “Fine, you better hurry up and get out there. But let me go out first. Bull won’t want to announce my total until I’m by his side.”

  My total? I fought very hard not to roll my own eyes at her dramatic insinuation that a) the donations were hers and b) the mayor needed her beside him to announce the results of the committee’s fundraising efforts, even if she was the chairwoman. I succeeded in my attempt by the skin of my teeth, then followed the trio out of the room, the final tally written on a pink Post-It note I stuck to my index finger.

  Most of the party-goers were still mulling about the makeshift dance floor, but the energy levels had significantly waned now that the evening was nearly over. I saw Susan talking to Tom, Barbara, Jada and Evangeline across the room, so I headed over to join them, giving Camille ample time to take her place next to the mayor. Besides, I was excited to share the news with my colleagues of how much money we’d brought in.

  I didn’t even realize how much relief that huge number brought me until I glanced back down at it. We received a number of grants and some state and city funds, but we hadn’t received enough money for raises or to increase our budgets for collections for a year or two now. And it always seemed to be the YA collection that suffered the most.

  I was petrified that if our gala didn’t go well, and Susan was forced to let a staff member go, it would be me. Their potential arguments rang in my ears: Teens don’t need the public library! They have plenty of other places to hang out. They have a library at their school. They hardly even come in here.

  It was true that our youth patronage had gone down in the past year, but most of it was because I’d lost my programming budget, not to mention half my budget for buying new books and magazines. With this chunk of money, I’d have a little to play with, and I could start luring the teens of Bryce Beach back into the library in no time!

  “What do you have, Baker?” Susan called me by my last name.

  My eyes narrowed, unable to understand why people did that. Being called by my first name was bad enough, but it was intolerable to be called by my last name. I ignored that and focused on the pink Post-It, waving it toward her. “I think you’re gonna like this figure!”

  Her eyes lit up when she peeled it off my finger and absorbed the number. Her eyes never lit up. She was truly impressed. I was so getting a raise!

  “I’ve gotta go make sure the activities room gets cleaned up,” she said. “Why don’t you take this over to the mayor? He might even let you make the announcement.”

  “Me?” I stood there, frozen in place.

  “Yes, you did a good job with the welcome and mayor’s introduction. And you pulled off a very successful event.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Congratulations.”

  My boss had never praised me. Ever. If I was shocked over the figure we’d collected, this was even more momentous. I watched her head up the stairs to the second level, my comfy flats still glued to the floor.

  Molly and Evangeline were at my sides in a flash. “What just happened? How did we do?” they both talked over each other.

  Camille was giving me the stink-eye. “I have to get this over to my husband so he can announce it.”

  They both kept asking me questions, but I waved them off. There’d be plenty of time to celebrate after we let everyone know how much we’d raised.

  Now with laser focus, I marched those comfy flats over to where Mayor Steyer and Camille were standing, schmoozing with Willa Bryce Monroe and a few other swanky townsfolk. “We have our final number,” I interrupted their conversation.

  “I already told him,” Camile said, turning to me with a smug smile.

  I ignored her and directed my attention solely to the mayor. “It’s time to make the announcement. Do you want me to do it, or would you prefer—”

  “I’ll do it!” Bull Steyer exclaimed, standing up straight and adjusting his tie. “C’mon!” He looked down at me with a grin that told me to follow him to the DJ booth. Camille huffed out something that I didn’t hear, then I saw her whisper to her two besties before she slipped down the hall.

  Where is she going? I wondered as the music faded out and Mayor Steyer took the microphone from the DJ. The crowd started to quiet down and turn their attention to the DJ booth.

  I thought Miss Important had to be by her husband’s side as he read off the figure?

  The mayor announced, “We have our final figure for tonight’s donations. Before I tell you the amount we raised, I just want to reiterate how important the library is to our community and remind you of all the vital work that goes on within these walls. Our town is lucky to have such a great library staff and leadership, and everyone who worked really hard to pull off tonight’s event.”

  The crowd applauded, even though he hadn’t given the number yet. Talk about Great Expectations!

  My parents flashed me a look that said, “We’re proud of you no matter how much it is!”

  Willa Bryce Monroe wore a happy grin as if she had a good idea her donation had rocketed us to a never-before-achieved amount.

  “Ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and fifty-two dollars!” the mayor announced, and the crowd erupted in applause, cheers, and general merriment. For an older crowd who was likely nearing their bedtimes, the noise they generated was pretty impressive.

  “Well, golly, I’ll chip in the other forty-eight bucks myself to make it an even one hundred grand!” Mayor Steyer continued as the DJ struck up “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang.

  Everyone was smiling, joy blossoming on their elated faces as they exchanged hugs and high-fives and rather exuberant whoops and hollers. And then…

  The sound of a door slamming shut and glass shattering brought all the chaos to an immediate halt.

  The entire crowd moved from the makeshift dance floor set up in the reference and reading area to check out what had happened. I was at the back of the pack, but as soon as I saw the source of the shattering sound, a bolt of panic ripped through me.

  The Founders’ Bible, the most priceless relic in Bryce Beach, given to the library upon the dedication of the building in the 1950s, was gone. The glass case where it was on display for decades had been smashed to smithereens, and broken glass glittered like diamonds all over the floor.

  My first instinct was to look around for Susan. She would know what to do. Then I remembered she’d gone to the activities room upstairs where they’d served dinner to supervise the cleanup.

  My head swiveled toward the mayor, who was animatedly talking on his cell phone. Evangeline and Molly appeared beside me moments later.

  “Oh my gosh! Did anyone see what happened?” Molly asked, looking around.

  Our gala guests had found their voices, and a panicked chatter was welling up among the crowd like a distant siren growing closer and closer. The mayor slid his phone into his pocket and used his fingers to produce a shrill, ear-piercing whistle, instantly quieting everyon
e gathered around the broken display case that had held the now missing artifact.

  “The Bryce Beach PD is on their way,” he said. “No one goes anywhere.”

  That was when I remembered that the mayor’s wife had disappeared right before his speech. I turned to my friends. “Did anyone see where Camille went right before the figure was announced?”

  Molly’s eyebrows quirked as she pressed her lips together thoughtfully. Jada shook her head and looked down at the floor.

  Evangeline shrugged. “I thought I saw her head down the hall toward the offices. Maybe to the restroom?”

  There was a staff restroom down the hallway to the right of the circulation desk. But also down that hallway was a back entrance to the office area that could otherwise only be accessed through the gate at the circulation counter. My heart started to flutter in my chest as a sudden worry about the donations cycled through me—the money was in the workroom in that office area, and no one was guarding it.

  “Come on,” I said to my friends. “Follow me.” As stealthily as possible, I wormed my way through the dumbfounded crowd, who had already started to chatter again amongst themselves. My two colleagues were hot on my heels.

  We lifted the gate to the circulation desk and slipped into the staff-only area, weaving around some bookshelves where we kept holds for patrons and staged returned books for shelving. I used my key to unlock the offices, then made my way back to the workroom, where we’d counted the money. We’d left all the cash in one metal pail and the checks in another.

  As soon as I turned on the light, my worst nightmare came to life:

  Both pails were sitting on the counter, completely empty.

  Four