Angela was exiting the ladies’ room when I stormed into the library with Smoky Joe in my arms.
“Carrie, what’s wrong?” she demanded. “You look upset.”
“I’m very upset.” I set Smoky Joe on the floor. He yowled and ran off. “Even the poor cat’s had enough of his mother today.”
“Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Trish was working in my office. The coffee shop was open, but I didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation. “Come upstairs and I’ll tell you everything.”
We trudged upstairs to the attic. It had once been used as a room where librarians and aides could take a break, but now it was a storehouse of old furniture. I perched on a desk and Angela perched on another. I told her how my father had suddenly appeared at the cottage hours after my party had ended, and wanted me to contact his partner in crime to retrieve his share of some stolen loot.
“The total scuzzball! Sorry, Carrie. I know he’s your father, but what he asked you to do is not something any father should ask of his daughter. Especially after not seeing you for how many years?”
“Too many. But to be fair, he reconsidered two days later.”
“Well, bully for him,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
I let out a deep breath. “His partner in this deal was Benton Parr.”
“The dead Benton Parr?” Angela whooped with delight. “I always suspected he was crooked through and through. I heard he tried to sell his mother-in-law’s jewels. Mariel managed to get them back.”
“I heard that too,” I said.
“You did?” Angela eyed me suspiciously. “I thought that was kept under wraps. I only found out because my mother and Mariel are both active in the garden club and have become good friends. Poor Mariel.” Angela shook her head. “The man was a snake. He ran around.”
“I know.”
“How do you know that? I swear, Carrie, ever since you solved those murders, you’re a walking database of Clover Ridge secrets.”
I laughed. “Last night I overheard a big, burly guy give Benton a punch in the face and warn him to keep away from his wife.”
“Did he have broad shoulders? A rough kind of voice?”
“Yes, why? Do you know him?”
“Not really, but I think I know who he is.”
“Please tell me. Lieutenant Mathers questioned my father as a person of interest. Benton’s assistant found him in the jewelry store this morning, along with Benton’s corpse.”
“Oh, no, Carrie!”
“He says he didn’t kill Benton, and I believe him.” I drew a deep breath. “Maybe this man is the murderer.”
Angela had a pained expression on her face. “I hope he isn’t. I mean,” she quickly amended when she saw my look of shock, “of course I also hope your father’s cleared—of murder anyway.”
“Please tell me the man’s name.”
“From your description, it sounds like Paul Darby, Jennifer’s husband.”
I stared at her. “Jennifer Darby? The gal who works in the coffee shop? I hardly know her, but I’d say she’s only in her mid-thirties.”
“Benton was good at picking them young, sweet, and vulnerable. Paul’s been out of work for some time, and their marriage is shaky.”
“Oh” was all I could think to say.
“Benton wasn’t well liked,” Angela said. “I bet there are plenty of people in Clover Ridge who are happy he’s dead.’
“And who might have killed him,” I said.
* * *
I felt better after talking to Angela. Not that I wanted Jennifer’s husband to be a murderer. But if Benton was half the sleazeball he was proving to be, John ought to know his history and look beyond my father as the only suspect. At any rate, I was able to enter my office and greet Trish like a halfway normal person before beginning my day’s work.
I’d managed to wade through my emails and phone messages, even called back four of the seven people, when Sally stopped by.
“Everything resolved?” she asked.
“Not really, but Uncle Bosco’s taking my father home with him, where he’ll stay until I go home tonight.”
Trish looked up and shot me an inquiring look.
“My father will be staying with me for a while,” I said.
“Really? The man you haven’t seen in years?”
I nodded.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Trish said.
“So do I,” I admitted.
“Do you think he did it—killed Benton Farr?” Sally asked.
“No, I don’t.”
“What?” Trish exclaimed. “Benton Farr was murdered?”
There was nothing for me to do but to tell her. “Chris, Benton’s assistant, found my father in the store this morning, along with Benton’s body.”
Trish’s mouth fell open. “How did he die?”
“Stabbed,” Sally and I said together.
Sally cleared her throat. “Actually, I’ve come here for a much more mundane reason. Christmas is only two weeks away, and we did say that this year we’d have a Secret Santa.”
Trish and I groaned.
“It was a total failure three years ago,” Trish said.
“Sorry,” Sally said. “You voted on it, and the yea’s had it. Not you, Carrie, since you weren’t a permanent employee back in September when we agreed to do this.”
She handed an envelope to Trish and two to me. “Please give Susan hers,” she said. “You’re not supposed to tell anyone who you’re buying a gift for—at least until we exchange gifts at our holiday party next week. And don’t spend more than ten dollars. Fifteen at the most.”
I opened my envelope and glared at Sally. “You can’t do this to me!”
She held up her hand. “Don’t tell me! I have no idea who you got. Marion put each name in a blank envelope and asked me to address and deliver them.”
“What’s the problem?” Trish asked.
“Dorothy, that’s the problem!”
“I thought the two of you were friends now,” Sally said.
“We’ll never be friends, but this is awful!”
“Why?” Trish asked. “What’s the big deal?”
“What if I buy her something she hates? Or, even worse, she gets it in her head that I’m insulting her? Then we’re back to where we were when I started here as head of P and E. I’ll have to dodge her pranks and tricks.”
Sally made a scoffing sound. “Don’t carry on so, Carrie. It’s not like you to be a drama queen over something this trivial.”
I sniffed. “Believe me, it’s not trivial. And I’m not a drama queen.”
Trish laughed.
“Thank you for supporting me.”
“I’m laughing because I agree with Sally. Being Dorothy’s Secret Santa isn’t the big deal you’re making it out to be.”
“Marion’s in charge of Secret Santa, and she said there can’t be any changes,” Sally said as she left the room.
Chapter Six
The rest of the day passed quickly. I checked my cell phone every fifteen minutes, but there were no texts from Dylan. No emails, no phone calls. Good, I told myself. He took you at your word that you never wanted to speak to him again. There was no way I could have a relationship with someone who used me to get to my father so he could charge him with a crime and put him in prison.
Not that Jim didn’t deserve it, another part of me retorted. A father was supposed to be moral and brave, supportive and loving. And, above all, present. A father was supposed to be present in his child’s life, but Jim Singleton was none of the above!
I wondered how the “interview” had gone. My father was too shrewd to give the slightest hint that he’d taken part in the heist. And of course he had none of the gems or the slightest idea where Benton had hidden them.
Uncle Bosco called me midafternoon to tell me that Jim had been released from jail and was now home with him and Aunt Harriet.
“I hope he’s behaving hi
mself.”
“He is,” Uncle Bosco said, but he didn’t sound happy. “He’s regaling us with stories of his travels. I’m sorry to say, your aunt is enjoying them. She just asked him what he’d like for dinner.”
“She’s only being polite,” I said.
“I don’t know. I can’t remember the last time she asked me what I’d like for dinner.”
Trish went home, and a few hours later Susan bounded in, cheerful and eager to work. I asked her to sit at the hospitality desk, where we took turns signing up patrons for various programs and answering questions they might have about upcoming events. She was happy to comply. In the two months since I’d taken over as head of P and E, Susan had evolved from an insecure waif who needed instructions every twenty minutes to a competent assistant. She even looked better now that her long, stringy hair had been cut and shaped to suit her thin face, and she’d forsaken her sack-like dresses for tunics and leggings that flattered her slender figure. I chuckled to think that my own makeover had been just as dramatic, though occasionally I got the urge to color my hair purple and slip into a black Goth outfit.
Smoky Joe came into the office to use his litter box. I fed him and ate the roast beef sandwich and baby greens salad I’d had delivered from the Cozy Corner Café. And then it was time to present the afternoon’s foreign film. I brought it downstairs to the meeting room. While Max set it up, I gave my little spiel to the thirty or so patrons about the director and the accolades the film had won. Then I returned to the paperwork my job always seemed to spawn, trying not to think of what awaited me when I arrived home that evening.
* * *
My father was stepping out of his car, an overnight bag in hand, as I pulled up in front of the cottage. This time I made it my business to give his car a careful once-over. It was a far-from-new dark green sedan badly in need of a wash.
“Hi there, Caro. Have a good day at the library?”
He tried to kiss my cheek as I passed him to unlock the door, but I brushed him aside. He left the overnight bag in the hall and followed me into the kitchen
“Thanks for putting me up. Bosco and Harriet are good people, but I couldn’t last there more than one evening.”
“Let’s hope you won’t have to stay here too long,” I said.
“My sentiments exactly. I hope they find Benton’s killer ASAP. I understand how difficult I’m making things for you.”
“Like a cup of coffee?”
“That would be lovely.” He sat down at the table and stretched out his legs while I started the coffee in the Keurig and then fed Smoky Joe.
“Care for any cookies or cake?”
“Just coffee, thanks.”
While his mug was brewing, I nuked the last piece of lasagna left over from the party and spooned some potato salad and coleslaw onto a plate. Two minutes later, I brought over everything to the table and sat down. Jim sipped his coffee, and I started eating my dinner.
When I was halfway through, I asked, “How did you leave it with Lieutenant Mathers? Are you a suspect?”
“I’m not sure. I heard him talking about blood spatter and the fact that there was no blood on my clothing. I hope that counts for something.”
“I still don’t understand how you let Chris find you at the store. You’re smarter than that.”
“What do you mean?” my father asked. He sipped his coffee, but not before I detected an odd expression in his eyes.
“I mean, were you busy doing something?”
His laugh sounded false. “I told you, I was looking around.”
I gaped at him. “I hope you didn’t steal any jewelry?”
“Of course I didn’t!” He sounded indignant. “I would have been in a hell of a lot of trouble if they’d found any pieces on me when they took me in.”
“Then how did you let yourself get caught?” I asked, marveling at how I knew to ask the right questions. Was it remembering my mother’s interrogating him when I was little? Her constant fear that he was about to be arrested and get us thrown out of whichever apartment we were renting at the time?
“I took a look inside the safe, okay?”
Okay? No, it wasn’t okay. “I suppose they’ll find your fingerprints on the lock.”
He sent me a withering frown. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Caro. I wiped it clean when I locked it again.”
“Were you looking for the gems?”
“Of course I was looking for the gems! But they weren’t in the safe. I wiped my prints clean and was about to leave when that kid unlocked the door and started screaming.”
I thought over what he’d told me. “Can John hold you as a suspect based on what you’ve told me?”
“He can’t. Which is why I’m here and no longer in one of his cells. I’ve answered his questions, nice and polite. No doubt I’ll have to go down to the station to answer them all over again, and then I’ll be on my way.”
I took a deep breath. “And Dylan? What happened when he questioned you?”
“Geez, I hadn’t seen Dylan Avery since he was a kid. He was Jordan’s friend, remember? They used to play together when you kids spent the summer on the farm.”
“I know.”
My father leaned over to pat my shoulder. “I understand you two are dating.”
“Who told you that?”
“John Mathers.”
“He had no business saying that! Besides, we’re no longer going out.”
Jim studied my expression. When I looked away, he reached over and, with one finger, turned my face so he could see me. “Because of me?”
I nodded. “I hate what you do, but I can’t bear to think that someone would pretend to like me because he wants to have at you.”
Jim laughed. “He questioned me about the heist, all right, and I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. This went on for the better part of an hour. He finally said, casually as you like, that he had some emails on record between Benton and me. That was a stupid move on my part. Happened while we were planning our little business venture. Before I could think of a good response, Dylan took a new tack. Mentioned the reward the owners are offering. Half a million dollars to whoever finds the gems and hands them over, no questions asked.”
“Which you can’t do.”
“No, I sure can’t do that.” He yawned and stretched his arms overhead.
“You’re exhausted,” I said. “Where have you been sleeping these last few nights?”
“In my car.”
No wonder I’d found him fast asleep that morning in his cell. “The bed in the guest room is made up. There are towels in the guest bathroom cupboard.” I stood. “I’ll move my computer and let you get a good night’s sleep.”
“Please sit down and finish your dinner. I’ll put your computer in your bedroom.”
“All right. Good night then,” I said.
“See you in the morning.” He bent down. This time I let him kiss my cheek.
I finished my dinner, cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher, feeling strangely adrift. My father was fast asleep in the guest room, I’d broken up with Dylan, and I had no idea what was happening next.
I watched TV in the living room, keeping the sound low so it wouldn’t disturb Jim. The phone never rang. No one called me. I called no one. I got ready for bed at nine thirty, which was early for me, and read. I drifted off to sleep with Smoky Joe beside me. When I awoke in the middle of the night, the cat was gone. I used the bathroom and tiptoed to the guest room. My disloyal kitten was fast asleep beside my father.
Chapter Seven
It was odd but utterly delightful, waking up to the aroma of coffee. I glanced at the clock and saw it wasn’t yet seven.
“You’re up already?” I called out.
“Been up for hours. I fed your kitty.”
I turned off my alarm and went into my bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. Smoky Joe came into the bedroom and kept me company while I got dressed.
I heard my
father whistling before I entered the kitchen. “What are you so happy about?” I asked as I opened the refrigerator.
“Sit,” he said.
I sat.
“To answer your question, I’m glad to be spending time with my lovely daughter.” He set a mug of coffee before me and dropped a kiss on my cheek. He was clean shaven and wearing a tweed jacket over a robin-blue shirt and dark gray trousers. “Toast? Bagel? I see you have both in the freezer.”
Who is this man? He’s never served me breakfast in his life. “I’ll have a slice of whole wheat toast, thanks.”
He dropped a slice of bread into the toaster. “Butter, jam, cream cheese?”
“Cream cheese would be nice.”
“I see you’re well stocked.”
“A lot of it’s leftover from my party.”
I sipped my coffee. My toast popped up and Jim served it to me. As I was spreading on cream cheese, he asked, “What do you hear from your mother?”
I shrugged. My mother, who had never been very maternal, showed even less interest in me since her remarriage to a man twelve years younger than her.
“She seems happy living in Hollywood. The last time we spoke, she was excited because Tom had gotten a small part in a movie. I don’t remember which one.”
Jim laughed. “Hollywood—the land of make-believe and dreams. The perfect place for Brianna.”
My irritation toward my self-absorbed mother shifted to Jim. “Maybe that’s because you never made things easy for her.”
“That’s true. I never did,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “I always hoped…”
“Hoped what?” I demanded.
“That she’d make up for my absence, but it didn’t turn out that way.”
“It certainly didn’t!” Time to change the subject. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“I have a few things to take care of today.”
Ah! Secretive. Vague. The father I knew is back!
“What are you up to, Jim?”
“Always suspicious of your old man, aren’t you?”
“I can’t have you staying here if you’re planning to rob someone,” I said.
“I’m not planning anything of the sort.” He sat down and sipped his coffee. “John Mathers wants me to stop by around eleven for another little chat.”
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