“Wouldn’t I then need a tattoo to show for it?” Lindsey asked.
“You’re right.” He smacked his forehead. “Hey, maybe you should go get one so you have it in advance.”
Lindsey shook her head. Charlie had been pestering her to get a tattoo since she moved in.
“I’m not getting a tattoo,” she said.
“Why not? Naners has one,” he said.
9
Lindsey turned wide eyes to her landlady.
Nancy’s blue eyes twinkled at her. “It’s true. It’s a tramp stamp right on my . . .”
“It is not!” Charlie protested with a laugh.
Nancy grinned. “Well, that would be something, wouldn’t it? And I think your uncle Jake would have approved.”
“Your tattoo is much more romantic than that,” Charlie said with a soft smile.
Nancy’s husband, Jake Peyton, was a ferry boat captain who had gone down with his ship. Nancy had never really gotten over it and during really bad storms she frequently had nightmares. Charlie lived in the middle apartment in her three-family captain house, to keep watch over his beloved aunt.
“My tattoo is a small lighthouse, just an inch tall,” Nancy said. “It’s on my right hip, where Jake always kept his hand when he slept. I had it put there to lead him home.”
Lindsey felt her eyes get wet and her throat tighten up. She looked at Charlie and saw he had a suspicious sheen to his eyes as well.
“Aw, Naners,” he said on a sigh. He opened his arms and pulled her into a solid hug.
Nancy patted his back. “Don’t fret, Charlie, I’m okay.”
“I’m not.” Charlie let out a sniff, which made both of them laugh, breaking the sadness that had begun to envelope them. Then he looked at Lindsey and said, “See? Tattoos can give you an insight into the most significant moments or relationships of a person’s life.”
“Tell that to all the guys who got Celtic armband tattoos in the eighties,” Lindsey said.
“Tattoo art was just developing then,” Charlie protested.
“Fine, but I still don’t see me getting one,” Lindsey said. “I can’t even commit to a shade of eyeliner, never mind a permanent-ink pictorial. And don’t even get me started on where I’d have it put. Too many decisions.”
“We’ll see,” Charlie said.
“And on that note, I have to get ready for work,” Lindsey said.
“Come on, buddy,” Nancy said. “We’re baking coconut bars today.”
Heathcliff hopped up and wagged. He did love spending his days with Nancy. Since Heathcliff’s arrival the previous winter, he had chosen Lindsey as his primary caretaker, but Nancy and Charlie had quickly become a part of his pack as well. It made Lindsey feel much less guilty when she had to be at work all day.
• • •
When Lindsey arrived at the library to start her shift, she found Ms. Cole already at the circulation desk checking in the materials from the book drop. She tried to reconcile the forbidding-looking woman at the desk with the one who had been sharing coffee with Milton. It was almost as if they were two different people.
“Good morning, Ms. Cole,” Lindsey said.
Ms. Cole nodded at her, which Lindsey knew was the best she could hope for. She shook her head and headed into her office. She had several book orders to submit and had been thinking about offering an e-reader class at the library, since they had been spending more and more time trying to help patrons use their e-readers to download books.
She owned an e-reader herself, but the book-loving part of her felt the same surge of panic she always felt at the thought that all books in the future would be in electronic form and there would be no more cloth bindings and paper pages to be held, but then she shook it off.
The electronic book was not going to eradicate hard-copy books. There was an art to the book that would never disappear, and the mere fact that it didn’t require batteries would keep the book alive. She was sure of it . . . mostly.
The morning passed in a blur of e-mail, book orders and program planning. Lindsey wasn’t sure how they could teach a class when there were so many different types of e-readers out there. Frustrated, she decided to take a break and went out to the library to see what was happening.
The library was eerily quiet. In fact, as she scanned the room, there wasn’t a soul to be seen. Not even Ms. Cole.
“Hello?” Lindsey called out.
The sound of applause was her only answer. Frowning, Lindsey followed the noise to the story time room in the back of the children’s area.
Lindsey glanced through the window in the door and saw that the room was packed with kids, parents and staff. At the front of the room, Robbie Vine was giving a performance for the kids. The overhead light shown on his reddish-blond hair and his dimples flashed as he grinned at the kids, who squealed with excitement.
Lindsey eased the door open and crept into the room to watch. Robbie was magnetic. Even on this small stage in this cramped room with an audience of wiggly toddlers, he commanded his audience’s attention, giving off an energy that made it impossible to look away.
She leaned against the back wall and watched, enraptured. When Robbie finished his piece, which had been a recitation of classic nursery rhymes, the room broke into enthusiastic applause and Robbie took several deep bows. When he rose, he glanced across the crowd and his gaze met Lindsey’s.
It was like getting hit with a bolt of lightning. Lindsey felt it all the way down to her shoes. Oh, this was bad. She could not be here, looking at him, feeling this feeling.
She glanced down the wall and saw Ms. Cole at the back of the room, as well as their part-time library assistant Jessica Gallo, who should have been minding the reference desk. She tried to make her voice sound stern and said, “I think we all need to get back to the main library.”
“Yes, you’re right. Sorry,” Jessica said.
Ms. Cole said nothing but merely led the way out of the room. Lindsey followed, and did not look back.
“Isn’t he brilliant?” Jessica gushed. “He had the kids entranced while he performed. It was amazing.”
“Yes, he’s a wonderful actor,” Lindsey said, although she wasn’t sure who she was reminding, Jessica or herself.
Once the others were back at their desks, she returned to her office. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t hiding, but she knew it was a lie.
She had no business being attracted to a man like Robbie Vine. He was married. He had a girlfriend. He was married. He was an actor. He was married. She put her head down on her desk and tried to figure out where her common sense had gone.
A knock on the door made her snap upright.
“Come in,” she said. She began to straighten her already meticulous desk.
The door opened; it was Charlene. Lindsey was disappointed that it wasn’t Robbie, and was annoyed with herself for her reaction. She smiled even brighter at her friend, determined to get her head on straight.
“Charlene,” she said. “What a surprise.”
Being a television news reporter kept Charlene so busy they rarely saw her unless it was for their Thursday crafternoon meetings, and even those she occasionally had to miss.
“Hi, Lindsey.” Charlene came in and shut the door behind her. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you? Always,” Lindsey said. “Sit down.”
Charlene took a seat across from her desk, and Lindsey noticed that her friend’s usually flawless face had small worry lines pinching the corner of her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked.
“I’m worried about my mom,” Charlene said. “This production, the bad press, my father sending that vile reporter here, I think it is too much for her to have to handle.”
“So, you think your father did have a hand in sending Harvey Wargus here?” Lindsey asked.
>
“I don’t know,” Charlene said. “I’ve been trying to investigate without my father finding out, but so far, no luck.”
“Why would your father want to pester your mother now?” Lindsey asked. “She’s retired from Broadway; she lives a quiet life here in Briar Creek. I just don’t see what he has to gain by antagonizing her.”
“He doesn’t like to lose,” Charlene said.
“But didn’t he lose when he chose not to be a part of your life?” Lindsey asked.
Charlene gave her a warm smile. “Spoken like a true friend.”
“No, I don’t have to be your friend to see what he lost,” Lindsey said. “Look at you. You’re a beautiful, charming, intelligent woman. You’re an excellent reporter, an amazing wife and mother and a fabulous friend. I pity your father.”
“Well, I thank you,” Charlene said. “But I don’t think this is about me, and if it is, it is only in a peripheral way.”
Lindsey gave her a questioning glance.
“Mom’s birthday was back in July,” she said.
“Yes, we had the luau.” Lindsey grinned. Then she frowned. Sully had been there, too, and they hadn’t spoken once all night. Very annoying.
“Well, do you remember the flower delivery that she got?”
“Oh yeah, the purple roses,” Lindsey said. “Kind of hard to forget a bouquet as big as a Buick.”
“I think it was from my dad.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Charlene just looked at her and Lindsey said, “Oh. Oh. Oh!”
“I think he wants to get back together,” Charlene said. “There have been other things, too.”
“Do you think she’s interested?”
Charlene gave her a fretful look. “I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything.”
“Have you asked her about this?” Lindsey pressed. She leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. “You and your mother are so close. You know you can talk to her about anything.”
“Except what if she wants to see him again?” Charlene asked. “I don’t think she’d tell me because she knows how I feel about him.”
“She’d tell you,” Lindsey said. “Violet is the most honest person I know, and you are the most important person in the world to her. She’d tell you if she wanted to see your father.”
Charlene was quiet for a minute. Then she nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I did have one other theory. It’s in the exact opposite direction.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, if my mother rejected my father completely, do you think he might be out for revenge? And that he might sabotage the show to get even?”
10
“Whoa,” Lindsey said. “You did say your father doesn’t like to lose. Is he vindictive like that?”
Charlene shrugged. “I don’t know that I have the most objective opinion of him.”
They were both quiet for a bit. Lindsey told herself she was just asking questions to be thorough, but she knew there was a silly part of her that was fishing. She chose to ignore it.
“Have you talked to Robbie about all of this?” she asked. She was pleased that her voice sounded perfectly casual.
“Actually, I stopped by because I heard he was here, but I must have missed him.”
“Oh, is he already gone?” Lindsey asked. She refused to acknowledge even a flicker of disappointment that he hadn’t stopped by her office.
“Beth said he was meeting his understudy on the pier to run over some lines,” Charlene said.
Lindsey thought about how unhappy Dylan’s mother would be to hear this. She had made it very clear that she didn’t like Dylan spending time with the theater people. Then she realized that this was probably why Dylan and Robbie were meeting at the pier. It would be very hard to be seen out there, especially if they practiced on one of the lower docks.
“Well, maybe you can catch him out there,” Lindsey said. “He and your mother seem close enough that she would tell him if she was worried about your father messing with the production.”
“True,” Charlene said. “Mom and Robbie are very close.”
“And if not Robbie, then maybe Nancy knows,” Lindsey said.
“I thought of that, but since Nancy is Mom’s best friend, I didn’t want to put her in an awkward spot,” Charlene said.
“Oh, well, than definitely ask Robbie,” Lindsey said. “He seems to thrive on awkward spots.”
Charlene tipped her head and studied Lindsey. “He likes you, doesn’t he?”
Lindsey glanced down at the top of her desk. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Charlene laughed. “Yes, you do. Robbie likes you and he’s got you all flustered, doesn’t he?”
“Ugh.” Lindsey thumped her head down on her desk. “I feel like such an idiot. He probably does this to every woman he meets, and let’s not forget that he’s married.”
Charlene reached across the desk and brushed back the long, curly strands of Lindsey’s blonde hair in a comforting mother-to-a-child sort of way.
“Robbie’s marriage has been over forever,” she said. “Just not legally.”
Lindsey turned her head to the side and gave Charlene a baleful look. “And he has a girlfriend.”
“Oh, no, they broke up months ago,” Charlene said. “Lola is just sort of a barnacle. She’ll keep clinging to Robbie until she finds someone else to attach herself to.”
Lindsey sighed and pushed herself back into a seated position. “Still, it’s too complicated for me.”
“Maybe,” Charlene said. She stood and crossed to the door. “But maybe you don’t need to get involved with Robbie. Maybe having him interested in you will motivate a certain boat captain we know to get his act together.”
Lindsey clapped her hands over her face. “Oh, horror. That scenario requires entirely too much drama.”
“Well, it is theater season,” Charlene said with a laugh. “Thanks for listening, Lindsey.”
“Anytime,” she said. “Let me know what happens.”
“I will,” Charlene promised.
She closed the door softly behind her, and Lindsey forced herself to get back to work. It was a relief to have her brain taken up with concrete matters like dispensing the budget and cataloging old issues of newspapers and magazines. Lindsey found it very comforting to be able to instill order in at least one part of her life.
• • •
“You will bend to my will,” Lindsey muttered. “Or I will use the snips on you.”
“Do you find that threatening chicken wire makes it more pliable?”
Lindsey whirled around to find Robbie standing behind her. He was grinning, and she tried to ignore the way it made her heart skip. She was determined to maintain a healthy boundary with the actor.
“Well.” She cleared he throat. “I tried bribing it with the immortality of being a donkey’s head, but that didn’t seem to work.”
“Perhaps it finds the prospect of life on Brian’s buggery head more than it can bear,” Robbie said. He was holding his usual bottle of coconut water, and unscrewed the cap and took a long drink.
“I inadvertently overheard your tiff the other day. Brian seemed unhappy with you,” Lindsey said.
“He thinks I slept with his wife,” Robbie said. “Ridiculous!”
“So you didn’t?” Lindsey asked before she could think better of it.
He gave her an exasperated look. He crossed his arms over his chest, and she noted that his long-sleeved T-shirt sat well on his broad shoulders.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asked. He wasn’t smiling now; Lindsey wondered if she had hurt his feelings.
“You do have a reputation,” she said.
“Most of which I haven’t earned,” he said. His green
eyes studied her face and he leaned close and whispered, “Now, if I could earn the reputation of being the plunderer of pretty, blonde librarians, well, that’s a reputation I could live with.”
A small squeak came out of Lindsey’s mouth, which she tried to cover with a cough. His grin was decidedly wicked now, and she had the sinking feeling that she was in way over her head.
“Lindsey!” a voice called from behind her.
She turned to find Sully striding toward them. Robbie straightened up, and Lindsey felt a hot heat fill her face. Again, she had a twinge of guilt, which was ludicrous, since she and Sully were no more.
“Yes?” she asked. She hoped she sounded casual but judging by the flat stare Sully was giving her, she didn’t.
“Nancy sent me to find you,” he said. “She’s holding a meeting for costumes in the back room.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Lindsey turned back to Robbie. “Sorry, I have to go.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “We’ll talk more later.”
How did he make such a simple sentence sound so laden with innuendo?
“All right,” she said. She turned back around and went to pass Sully, who fell into step beside her.
The theater had several back rooms used for storage and rehearsals that ran along one side of the building. She pushed through the door on the far side of the theater, which led to a dark, narrow hallway. She had assumed Sully would return to the backstage area where the set crew worked, but he didn’t. Instead he stayed right beside her.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and felt her heart pinch. His jeans and T-shirt were covered in sawdust, and his thick, mahogany curls were pushed back by a blue bandanna he had tied around his forehead, probably to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes. His jaw was set tight and his mouth was in a narrow, straight line. He did not look happy.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said. The room where the meeting was to be held was on her left, and the hallway would take Sully back to the loading dock.
“No problem,” he said. His voice made it sound as if it was anything but.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked.
Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) Page 7
