Hush-Hush

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  “Hey there,” came a deep voice and I jumped, deep in my thoughts.

  It was Grayson Phillips, my neighbor and friend. He was also my perennial crush, who seemed completely unaware (determinedly unaware?) of my feelings. Recently, I’d been seeing more of him, although not really in the way I wanted. We appeared to be “buddies”—I wrote a monthly library column for the newspaper he edited and we’d hike together on local trails near Whitby. He managed to cheer me up no matter what kind of mood I started out in because he was relentlessly upbeat, handsome, kind, and witty. Although in the past, his very presence had turned me into a blathering idiot, I was able to put that aside now. Most of the time.

  Grayson looked apologetic now. “Sorry I scared you.”

  I stood up, stretching in the process. “No worries. I was just focused on what I was doing, that’s all.”

  Grayson glanced over at the window where Fitz was staring intently at him and chuckled. “Looks like Fitz is keeping an eye on you.”

  I snorted. “More likely he’s trying to persuade you to come inside and scratch him under his chin for a while.” Realizing I probably should invite him in, I quickly said, “Would you like to come in?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, I was about to ask if you wanted to join me for a run.”

  He did indeed have athletic clothes on. I’d been trying not to notice how sculpted his body was underneath them. It was tempting, but the fact of the matter was that despite the fact that I needed to do more exercising, I was pretty wiped out.

  “Can I take a raincheck on that jog?” I asked lightly. “It was kind of a busy day at work and I don’t think I’d really be able to keep up.” I brightened with an idea. “But if you wanted to stop by on your way back and have a glass of wine with me, I’d be up for that.”

  He grinned. “Here I am trying to be all healthy and you’re tempting me with alcohol.”

  Well, I had to try to tempt him with something.

  He said, “You’re on. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

  Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to run for that long. I’d have ended up walking back home. I found myself whistling as I continued weeding the garden and shook my head at my transparency. After another twenty-five minutes I disposed of the weeds and went in to wash my hands and pour the wine right as Grayson returned.

  He tapped on my front door and I greeted him with a glass. “Come on in,” I said, stepping back so he could walk through the door.

  He shook his head ruefully. “I’m way too sweaty to sit on your furniture. Do you mind if we take the wine outside?”

  I didn’t mind anything at all when I was hanging out with Grayson. I grabbed my own glass and joined him at a small wrought-iron table in a corner of the front yard garden. My great-aunt, whom I’d inherited the house from, had been quite a gardener and had thoughtfully planted perennials and flowering bushes which were riotous in true English garden fashion.

  I waited for him to start up the conversation, because my typical conversation starters were rife with weather references, books, and my work at the library.

  Fortunately, Grayson was a lot more outgoing than I was. “What was it like growing up in Whitby?” he asked.

  I smiled. “Oh, it was pretty fun for a kid. My great-aunt knew everyone who lived here and she set up playdates and swim dates and enrolled me in camps and the summer reading program at the library. She worked really hard to make sure I was meeting kids and keeping busy.”

  Grayson had a way of listening to you that made you feel there was no one else in the world he’d rather be talking to. He leaned in, his expression interested as he tilted his head to one side. “You speak of your aunt really fondly.”

  “I miss her,” I said. “She gave me this perfect, idyllic childhood once I came here. She didn’t spare me the chores, either! We’d weed the garden together, plant vegetables, and I’d help her out with the housework. It was just the two of us but I never felt lonely.”

  “Plus, you had books, I’m guessing.”

  I chuckled. “Gobs of them. But you’ve been in the house.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Books are in stacks against the walls everywhere.”

  “I couldn’t bear to get rid of hers and then I’ve added a bunch of mine to the mix, too,” I said ruefully. “How about you? What’s your house like?” I’d never been inside and I was curious.

  Grayson made a face. “Typical bachelor mess. Not as cozy as your place. I can’t believe I haven’t invited you in, considering all the things we’ve done together.” He snapped his fingers. “Which reminds me. I did want to make a special July Fourth edition of the paper and include a recreation section. Do you think you could go on another hike with me? We could make it a picnic and take pictures.”

  I knew these hiking trips were strictly friend-zone events, but I always enjoyed them. Grayson was very easy to talk to and I’d always feel myself relax. “Sure, that sounds great. There’s another spot Luna was reminding me of that I’d totally forgotten about. It should be a nice hike.”

  “Perfect,” said Grayson, smiling. There were golden flecks in his brown eyes that seemed to glow.

  Then we heard an unwelcome, raspy voice. “Good to see you two together. I have something to ask you.”

  I drew back with a gasp. Zelda Smith was our homeowner association president and was constantly campaigning to get Grayson or me on the board. I knew I didn’t have any extra time at all to be doing architectural reviews of homeowners’ proposed fences or writing emails upbraiding residents on the grass growing through the cracks in their driveway. I suspected Grayson didn’t, either.

  I was still frozen, but Grayson said in his easy way, “Zelda! Good to see you. Would you like a glass of wine with us?”

  Zelda gave him a disapproving look. “Not right at the moment, thank you. I wanted to mention that we’re going to have an upcoming vote on adding street lighting to our neighborhood. We have it in the budget and think some attractive lighting might help deter crime as well as be a nice draw to the community.”

  “Do we have a crime problem?” I asked, startled. I must have missed that neighborhood update.

  Zelda glared at me and took a cigarette from her pants pocket, lighting it with a lighter from her other pocket. “Not right now, but you never know. We have teenagers in our neighborhood now.”

  “Goodness,” said Grayson mildly.

  Zelda’s eyes narrowed as if she suspected he might be making light of the danger. She shook the lit cigarette at him. “Mark my words, those teenagers will mean trouble. They’ll be breaking into cars, walking into unlocked homes. Spray-painting graffiti! We need to keep our eyes on them.”

  “Will do,” I said, resisting the urge to salute.

  “And, of course, we could use some fresh insight and leadership on the homeowner association board,” continued Zelda, giving us both a hard look.

  Grayson’s and my smiles froze.

  Grayson politely said, “As soon as my schedule opens up, I’ll be sure to give you a call.”

  I had just taken a large gulp of my wine, and it instantly made me start coughing as it went down the wrong lane.

  Grayson patted me on the back as I coughed, and Zelda frowned at me. “Drinking isn’t all it’s cut out to be, is it?” she said smugly. “Lesson learned.”

  She vanished as quickly as she’d appeared.

  Grayson said wryly, “As if smoking is much better than drinking.”

  I finally stopped coughing and grinned at him. “Right.”

  Grayson stood up. “Well, I should be heading along before I get any more pitches to join the homeowner association board.”

  I stood up too. “I’ll keep an eye on you until you get home. Just in case there are any errant teens around.”

  He chuckled and waved as he headed out to the sidewalk. I gathered our glasses and brought them inside.

  I made Fitz some supper—a lovely mix of poultry and tuna in a can which he somehow seeme
d to thoroughly enjoy. For myself, I had an equally-lovely mix of leftovers from the previous two nights. The previous two nights had actually been something I’d whipped up with other leftover ingredients from various suppers, so having the remainders together was pretty much the visual equivalent of Fitz’s odd poultry and tuna mix.

  Then I got cleaned up and found Fitz already waiting for me on the bed, looking pleased with himself. He definitely had memorized my routine . . . but how could he help it when every day was very much like Groundhog Day around here. I picked up my current book, This Tender Land, which reminded me quite a bit of a modern Huckleberry Finn, and settled into the bed. Fitz immediately curled his furry body against me and gave a mew of contentment.

  I fell asleep early which meant I woke up really early, too. It was four-thirty when I finally abandoned my bid for sleep and got up for the day. Fitz barely opened his eyes, giving me a disbelieving look. He quickly decided he’d stay where he was, except to move to the warm spot on the bed where I’d been lying.

  Since I was up so early, I figured I might as well be productive about it. Feeling bad about not exercising with Grayson last night, I put on my exercise clothes to go out for a short run. I stretched and then headed outside, locking the door behind me. The sunrise was just a hint in the sky as I headed out with a slow lope.

  When I came home, I got cleaned up and dressed and fed Fitz, who’d finally abandoned the bed to stand politely next to his food bowl. I fed him, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and then powered up my laptop and answered emails.

  After all this, I looked at the clock and found it was still technically too early to go to work. However . . . the library was my favorite place, especially in the early-morning hours when no one else was there. Fitz liked the quiet there too, although he was definitely more extroverted than me.

  I coaxed Fitz into his cat carrier and we piled into the car and headed out. During the short drive to the library I passed other homes with people starting out for walks and jogs, taking their dog out, or grabbing their newspaper as the small town of Whitby came to life.

  I pulled into the library parking lot and into a space. I frowned at the sight of Ellie’s car in the parking lot. Maybe she’d accidentally left something at the library last night or maybe her car had broken down. I unloaded Fitz, took my keys from my purse, and climbed the stairs to the back door.

  I found the door unlocked . . . the door pushed right open. I grumbled to myself and Fitz looked at me curiously from his carrier.

  “Sorry, buddy,” I said softly. “If Ellie’s at home, she somehow managed to forget actually locking the door. Which is supposedly the most important part of ‘locking up.’”

  That wasn’t all, though. The lights were still on inside. I called out for Ellie and didn’t get an answer.

  I scanned the room and then walked toward the stacks. That’s when I stopped. A huge bookshelf had toppled over—on the lifeless body of Ellie Norman.

  Chapter Four

  After trying to find a non-existent pulse on Ellie’s wrist, I called Burton right away, my fingers shaking as I dialed his number. He answered quickly, sounding like he’d recently woken up. “Ann?”

  “Burton. I just came into the library and the door was unlocked and the lights were on. Someone must have pushed the bookcase over on top of her.” I was fumbling for words, trying to work out what had happened. Those bookshelves wouldn’t just fall over by themselves. Someone must have done it.

  Burton’s voice was sharp. “On Luna?”

  “No, no. On our new librarian—Ellie Norman. It’s Ellie.”

  Relief flooded his voice, just for a moment, before sounding grim again. “Got it. Okay, Ann. Get out of there and wait for me in the parking lot.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed Fitz’s carrier and headed right for the parking lot. The shaking in my hands was now extending to the rest of me and my legs felt weak as I hurried back down the stairs.

  I walked over to my car and slumped against it, waiting for the sound of the siren I could hear in the distance to get closer. I glanced across the parking lot and spotted my favorite library patron, Linus, and his dog Ivy walking slowly up to me. Linus was usually dressed up just about as much as Wilson, but for walking Ivy he had on jeans and a golf shirt. He called out, “Everything okay, Ann?”

  I shook my head and he walked over.

  “Getting a walk in before heading to the library?” I asked, trying to sound light but my voice shook. Linus was a widower who’d fallen into a routine of spending his days at the library, reading in a particular pattern of newspapers, periodicals, fiction, and non-fiction.

  He frowned at the shakiness in my voice and said, “That’s right.” He looked toward the library, which I was clearly not trying to enter, and turned as the sound of the police siren got closer. “What’s going on?”

  “Our new librarian? Ellie? There’s been—I don’t know, some sort of accident or something.” As I said them, the words felt wrong to me. There was just no way that huge bookshelf toppled on its own. I reached down and rubbed Ivy, whose sweet face was looking up at me with concern.

  “And she’s not all right?”

  “I’m afraid not,” I said, a catch in my voice. Ivy reached over and nuzzled me and I rubbed her soft fur some more.

  Linus nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry about that.”

  We both looked quietly at the library until Burton came speeding into the parking lot.

  “I’d better let you speak with the police chief,” said Linus quietly, clicking his tongue at Ivy who quickly trotted toward the direction of his home.

  Burton strode over to me. “Inside?” he asked.

  I nodded. “In the fiction stacks.” I hesitated. “The door wasn’t locked. It couldn’t have been an accident, Burton, not with those sturdy bookshelves. I hate to think the killer is still in there, but be careful.”

  Burton bobbed his head in acknowledgment and headed to the library, hand on the weapon on his hip while I waited restlessly on the sidewalk. I moved Fitz into the shade again as a sunbeam relentlessly sought out his carrier and crouched down to put my fingers through the bars of the carrier. He gently rubbed his face on them. I noticed an expensive sedan had pulled into the parking lot and I frowned. It was too early for patrons to be here and it wasn’t Wilson, who was the only other staff member who ever came in this early.

  After what seemed like a very long time, Burton came out, treading heavily as he walked toward me. He rubbed his face with his hand and sighed. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

  “Not a lot. Ellie traded shifts with me yesterday and locked up instead of opening. I got the impression she was delaying going back home because she and her sister were having a spat.”

  Burton raised his bushy eyebrows. “A spat?”

  “I don’t think it was anything serious. Pris, Ellie’s sister, is living with Ellie right now because she’s going through a divorce. I think they must just be getting on each other’s nerves.”

  Burton nodded grimly. “So, they argued. Ellie decided she’d rather hang out at the library instead of heading home early. And then you were to open up this morning?”

  “That’s right.” I took a deep breath. “I drove up and saw her car was here, which was odd. Then I went up the stairs and noticed the door was unlocked. Ellie should at least have locked the door to the public, even if she’d decided to arrive early for some reason.”

  Burton gave me a wry look. “That’s when you should have called me.”

  “I know that now, but at the time, I figured maybe Ellie had just forgotten to lock the door.”

  “Was she like that? Sort of flighty?” asked Burton.

  I shook my head. “Not at all, actually. But I was willing to ascribe forgetfulness to her because she does . . . did . . . get on my nerves a lot. Anyway, I saw the lights were on, too, and then I really did get alarmed. I mean, forgetting both things was a lot weirder. That’s when I saw Ellie under
the bookcase.” I paused. “I did feel for a pulse, but I didn’t move her or do anything else.”

  Burton said, “I don’t really know Ellie because she’s so new. You said she got on your nerves sometimes. Was it just you, or did others feel the same?”

  “Well, I know Luna felt the same because we even talked about it yesterday. It’s nothing major—just sort of petty work issues. You know the kind—she’d leave early for lunch or take too long at lunch. She was nosy and seemed to get into everybody’s business.”

  “How was she nosy?” asked Burton.

  I shrugged. “She always seemed to be lurking in the stacks, listening in on people’s conversations. A couple of times, I noticed Ellie listening in on the staff’s phone calls.”

  Burton nodded thoughtfully. “That could have made somebody upset, listening in on the wrong person.” He glanced across the parking lot at the expensive sedan that was still idling. “Who’s that?”

  I followed his gaze to the car in the parking lot and tried to make out the person behind the wheel. “You know, I think that’s the guy Ellie has been having lunches with.”

  Burton’s bushy eyebrows flew up. “Really? Well, I definitely want to speak to him, then. Are you sure about that?”

  “Pretty sure. It’s the same car, anyway. Luna has remarked on it, too.”

  “Let’s have a little chat with him before the state police shows up with the forensics team,” said Burton, heading in the direction of the sedan.

  The man in the expensive car had dark, wavy hair and the kind of tan that looked as if he might have acquired it on the golf course. He frowned a little when he saw the police chief and me walking toward him and reluctantly put his window down.