The town hall was housed in an old redbrick-style Federal building with public offices like the water department, tax assessor and recreation on the first floor, while the mayor and his minions were housed on the second floor. Lindsey always figured the mayor liked to keep a layer of bureaucracy between him and the public, but in a town as small as Briar Creek, it really wasn’t much of a front line.
The offices on the first floor had closed at five, but the building was still open for First Friday and would be until nine o’clock when Trevor Watson, the maintenance man, ushered everyone out—usually by grabbing a sweeper broom and literally brushing them in the direction of the exit, after which he closed and locked the building for the evening.
Lindsey led the way up the stairs and past the mayor’s office. She saw Sally Kilbridge, his secretary, sitting at her desk and waved. Sally waved back but when she recognized Robbie Vine, she made a squee noise and then hid under her desk.
“Nice to know I’ve still got it,” he said. Lindsey gave him a side eye and he said, “That is how most women react to me.”
“And it never gets old,” she said.
“Never,” he agreed.
Herb’s office was next. The door was open. He didn’t have a secretary, so Lindsey peeked around the corner, knocking on the doorframe to get his attention.
He glanced up and then looked concerned, cautious and even a bit leery. “Hi, Lindsey and, er, Mr. Vine.”
“Call me Robbie.”
“All right, Robbie.” Herb extended his hand. “I’m Herb.”
“Pleasure,” Robbie said and shook his hand.
To Herb’s credit, he didn’t squee and hide under his desk, for which Lindsey was ever so grateful.
“What can I help you with?” he asked.
“Summer reading, actually,” Lindsey said. She handed him the manila folder.
“Oh, well, fantastic,” Herb said.
He looked vastly relieved as he gestured for them to sit and he resumed his seat behind the desk. Lindsey realized he had probably thought she was coming here to question him about his brother. Well, she was still going to do that, but at least he’d have a few minutes of normalcy before she ruined his day.
He reviewed the numbers for spending for the summer reading program. He was very enthusiastic about books for prizes and seemed to think they could squeeze any extra money they might need out of the budget. He promised to talk to the accounting department and get back to Lindsey within the week.
“Excellent,” Lindsey replied.
She noticed that Herb’s gaze kept straying from her to Robbie and she wondered if he was trying to figure out their relationship. She felt like she needed to explain Robbie’s presence in that she didn’t want Herb to get the wrong idea. They were not a couple. They would never be a couple.
Herb hooked a finger in his collar as if to loosen his tie. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. This was not the look of a man worried about her relationship; this was the look of a man who found himself in an unexpected hot seat.
Lindsey turned and glanced at Robbie. He was studying Herb through one narrowed eye as if trying to get his measure. He had his elbows on the armrests of his chair with his hands in front of his chest with fingertips meeting like he was holding an invisible grapefruit or something. Lindsey had seen this considering gesture before, usually from a bank officer or the like right before he stamped DENIED on a loan application.
Robbie glanced quickly at her and Lindsey shook her head ever so slightly to indicate that he should let her handle this. Robbie shook her off like a pitcher shaking off a catcher’s signal. Why, oh why, had she allowed him to come with her?
She figured she’d better move quickly before this whole thing unraveled on her.
“So, you think the budget will be okay even after all of the revenue we lost because of amnesty day?” she asked. She was hoping to segue into the discussion of amnesty day returns.
“As you pointed out when you asked to have an amnesty day, I think our gain in returned items far outweighed any revenue we might have lost and it’s encouraged people to return to the library,” Herb said.
Lindsey noticed that his words looked rehearsed, as if he’d been practicing them for just this sort of conversation. She had planned to coyly ask him if he had returned any overdue items but Robbie beat her to the punch.
“How about you there, Herb?” Robbie growled. He leaned forward in his seat and glared.
“I’m sorry,” Herb said. He looked at Robbie like he had no idea what he was talking about. Lindsey could tell it wasn’t an act; even suspecting Robbie’s purpose, she wasn’t clear on what he was trying to achieve.
“Admit it.” Robbie slapped his hand down on the desk, making them all jump, and then pointed at Herb. “You had overdue books to return!”
“What? No!” Herb protested. He looked at Lindsey in shock. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I never!”
Lindsey raised both of her hands in a calming gesture. “Let’s all just calm down.”
Then she leaned close to Robbie and hissed, “What are you doing, auditioning for True Detective? Knock it off.”
“I’m just trying to get answers,” Robbie said. “He’ll crack, you’ll see.”
“No, I won’t because you’re stopping this right now,” Lindsey protested, but it was too late. Robbie rose from his seat and stalked around Herb’s office like a caged panther. He rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand and circled Herb’s desk, even walking behind it once before he spoke.
“Tell us the truth,” he said in a menacing voice as he leaned over Herb, blocking the poor man in with one hand on the back of his chair and one hand on the desk. “Whitley’s book came from your house, didn’t it?”
“No, I swear!” Herb protested.
“You returned it for your brother, didn’t you?” Robbie continued.
“No, I didn’t return anything on amnesty day,” he said. “Nothing. I’m a very good borrower.”
“How long have you waited to get rid of that book? How long did you know that your brother stole the book from a dead woman, a woman he murdered, and hid it at your house? How long?” Robbie was practically frothing at the mouth, but Lindsey saw Herb’s face go pale then grow flushed. He looked like he was on the brink of an episode and Lindsey did not want to be a part of the fallout.
“Robbie, that’s enough—” she began, but Herb interrupted.
He rose from his seat. He shoved Robbie back, sending the man staggering, then he loomed over him and yelled in his face.
“My brother is innocent!” he yelled. “He loved Candice. He was going to ask her to marry him. He never got over losing her, never. So don’t you dare accuse him of harming her. He didn’t do it and he’s lived his life banished from his hometown and forced to start over, all for a crime he didn’t commit. I would stake my life, my reputation, my everything on it.”
Herb stood with his fists clenched and his chest heaving, looking like he wanted to smash something, probably Robbie’s face. Lindsey had known Herb for a couple of years now and even when the town had been shut down by a blizzard, he had never lost his cool. To her, it proved more than anything that his brother was innocent, or at least that Herb was sure his brother was innocent—especially if he was willing to put his reputation on the line. Herb’s reputation was everything to him.
“Okay, well, we’re really sorry to have disturbed you,” Lindsey said.
She rose from her seat and grabbed Robbie’s arm. While he tried to continue his stare down with Herb, she yanked him across the room and then got behind him and pushed him out the door.
“You’ll let me know when you talk to accounting, then?” she asked.
Herb blinked, looking confused.
“About the book prizes,” she said.
“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” he sai
d.
Lindsey gestured to the door where Robbie lurked. “Sorry about that.”
“No, no,” Herb said. His shoulders slumped as if all the fight had gone out of him. “He just said what everyone is thinking. I know they are. All these years of working to put the past behind us, hoping we could salvage my brother’s reputation, and for what? A book shows up at the library checked out to Candice on the day she died and all the old suspicions come roaring back to haunt us.”
“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said. She saw Robbie step forward as if he was going to come back into the office and she waved him away. “It was never my intention when I brought the book to Emma to stir up bad memories for you or your family. I really felt I had no choice.”
“I know,” Herb said. He sat on the edge of the desk and ran a hand over his precisely cut hair. “It was the right thing to do and I would have done the same. It’s just . . . It’s been a bit of a shock to have it all come back.”
“I imagine it has,” Lindsey said. “Have you been in touch with your brother? Does he know?”
Herb gave her a searching look.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just wondering out loud. It’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s fine. I have spoken to him, in fact,” Herb said. “He lives in a small town up in Maine. He hasn’t been down here in years. He seemed to think it was a good thing that the book was returned. He actually sounded optimistic about what it might mean.”
“He did?”
“Yes, he thinks the case is overdue for being solved,” Herb said. “But I just can’t get swept up in it all again. It was agonizing for my parents the first time and now they’re older and they’re tired. They have enough to deal with since their house was robbed.”
“Oh, no!” Lindsey said. “Recently?”
“Yes, they are one of the rash of burglaries that have happened,” he said. “Which is why I wasn’t eager to have Emma’s attention be taken up by an overdue library book. We really need to get a handle on these burglaries.”
“I agree,” Lindsey said. She felt a prickly feeling at the base of her neck. First she learned Judy’s house was one of the ones that was robbed and now Herb’s parents. If she were Spider-Man, she’d say her Spider-Sense was tingling.
“Thank you,” Herb said. “I appreciate the support since the overdue book is really more your issue. I can see where you think it might take precedence.”
“No, I think you’re right. The burglaries are important, even more than I realized.” Lindsey turned and strode to the door. She didn’t slow down as she called over her shoulder, “Thanks for your time, Herb.”
“Where to next?” Robbie asked.
“For you? Home,” Lindsey said.
“Oh, come on. We’re clearly a great team,” Robbie said. “I’m the bad cop and you’re the good cop. Look at how we got that bloke singing like a bloody canary.”
Lindsey looked at him as if he was cracked. “He didn’t confess to returning the book or anything. How do you figure he was singing like a canary?”
“He talked about his brother,” Robbie said. “That was significant. His little brother was definitely the prime suspect back in the day and getting him to talk about him was key.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?”
Lindsey kept striding forward. She was on a mission now.
“Hold up there, librarian,” Robbie said. He caught her by the elbow and forced her to stop. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked. “Don’t deny it. I can hear the gears grinding and I’m pretty sure I smell smoke.”
Lindsey thought about not telling him, but she knew he’d just badger her and badger her until she relented.
“Four burglaries have happened in the past few weeks,” she said. “One was at Herb’s parents’ house and one was at Judy Elrich’s mother’s house. What do these people have in common?”
“No idea.”
“They are the parents of people who were very close, the closest actually, to Candice Whitley. Benji was her boyfriend and Judy was her best friend. I need to know who else was robbed and whether or not they have any connection to Candice Whitley.”
“Oh, this is good,” Robbie said. “So, where are we going?”
“The police station to talk to Emma,” Lindsey said. “Do not under any circumstances try your bad-cop routine on her. Am I clear?”
“As the water in the Thames,” he said.
He strode forward and Lindsey followed, frowning. She was pretty the water in the River Thames was not clear, not at all.
Lindsey tried to catch up to him but his stride was longer and he was moving at a clip. When they got to the front door, only his ingrained manners to hold the door open for her allowed her the advantage of getting inside ahead of him.
Officer Kirkland was manning the front desk and he glanced up when Lindsey entered with Robbie on her heels.
“Evening, ma’am,” he said. He glanced past her and added, “Sir.”
“Hi, is Chief Plewicki here?”
“She was in her office a little bit ago,” he said. “I’ll check.”
“Thanks.”
Kirkland ducked through the door that led to the back office. Lindsey took the opportunity to tell Robbie one more time to behave himself.
He raised his right hand as if swearing on it, but Lindsey would have felt better if there was a judge present, or a minister, or Robbie’s mother—basically, anyone with some power over the charming actor.
Kirkland reappeared and opened the half door that led to the back. “Come on in.”
Lindsey gave Robbie one more warning look before she led the way through the door. He grinned at her, and she got a very bad feeling about it.
He didn’t wait for Lindsey to enter Emma’s office first but rather strode into the space like he owned it. Emma glanced up from her computer with a smile that quickly morphed into a frown as Robbie sat in one of the two guest chairs facing her desk and propped his feet on the corner of her desk.
Lindsey went to take her seat, shoving Robbie’s feet off as she went. She glowered. He looked unrepentant.
“Lindsey, Robbie, what’s up?” Emma asked. She glanced at them in turn as if trying to figure out what would have brought the two of them to her office.
“Murder,” Robbie said.
He was using his dramatic actor voice and Lindsey had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Emma did not suppress the urge, but instead rolled her eyes and huffed out an impatient breath, as if she were a teenage girl being told to go back to her room and change her outfit.
“You think that’s annoying?” Robbie asked. “Really? A woman is dead and you’re not interested in what we’ve discovered.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at him and turned to Lindsey. “Is this a new murder or the cold case?”
“Cold case.”
“You discovered something?” Emma asked.
“Maybe,” she said.
“We have been working the case and found a connection between the burglaries and the dead girl,” Robbie said.
Emma frowned at him. “Why are you here?”
“Helping,” he said.
“Oh, is that what you call it?” she asked.
Lindsey glanced back and forth between them, watching the verbal sparring match. She had thought Emma and Robbie were friends, especially since they had worked together before to thwart a would-be murderer, but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe there was no love lost between the officer and the actor.
“Yes, that’s what I call it,” he said. He leaned forward in his seat and glared at her. “What do you call it?”
“Hindering an investigation,” she said. “Or in your case, being a nosey parker.”
Robbie gasped and sat back in his seat as if she’d slapped him. “You cut me t
o the quick.”
“Not yet,” she said. “But if you push me, I might shoot you.”
“Are you threatening me?” Robbie asked.
Now he rose from his seat, planted his hands on Emma’s desk and stared her down. Bad move. Lindsey could have told him that but she doubted he would have listened. Just as she expected, Emma rose up from her seat and met him halfway across the desk until they were nose to nose.
“I was thinking it was more of a warning, but you can call it whatever you like,” she said. “You are a civilian—a celebrity civilian, which is the absolute worst kind—and you need to steer clear of anything happening with the police. We have a hard enough job without you bringing the paparazzi to our front door and making our lives a misery.”
“You’re discriminating against me because I’m famous!”
“No, I’m not,” she argued. “I just don’t want you anywhere near this case, stirring up all sorts of trouble.” She pointed to Lindsey. “She does enough of that!”
“Hey, I’m not in this!” Lindsey protested.
“But with my status, I can protect you,” Robbie said. “You know, make sure the media reports it the right way and puts you and your people in the most positive light. And if things get dangerous, I can watch your back and save you if you get into a jam.”
“Save me?” Emma shook her head as if she must have heard him wrong, then she patted the gun strapped to her side. “I think I’ve got all of the protection I need.”
“Well, that’s subtle,” Robbie said.
“Listen, I’m not going to argue with you,” Emma said. “This case is none of your business and you need to butt out.”
She pushed back from her desk, putting some distance between them. He took the opportunity to sit on the corner of her desk and cross his arms over his chest. He did not look happy.
“Well, then I guess you don’t want to hear what we have to say,” he said.
“No, I’ll be happy to hear what she has to say after you leave,” Emma said.
Better Late Than Never Page 11
