The Librarian's Last Chapter (A River Valley Mystery, Book 3)

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Now, all we need is to find the perfect shoes.” Lynn drew in a deep breath. “But lunch first.”

  “Let’s go to the tea shop on Main Street.” I might as well get in a little sleuthing.

  The others were in agreement. After putting a deposit on the gowns, we headed back to River Valley and stepped into an overly decorated front room of yet another renovated Victorian. Norma Rae greeted us, dressed in vintage clothing to fit the era. She led us to a small round table in an alcove. Other than one other woman, we were the only customers. Probably because we had to slide into our seats sideways because of all the decorations surrounding the tables. Folks wanted to eat with elbow room, not have to worry about knocking a knickknack onto the floor.

  “Ask her if business is okay.” I elbowed Mom when Norma Rae left to fetch tea and sandwiches.

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “Like that’s ever stopped you before. Do it. We’re trying to establish our suspect list.” Since Norma Rae knew Mrs. Grimes very well, it stood to reason that the woman might also know about the treasure map.

  Norma Rae returned several minutes later with Turkey and white cheddar sandwiches and pomegranate tea. “Enjoy.”

  “Dear,” Mom glanced around the room. “This is such a darling place. How’s business?”

  “It could definitely be better.” Norma Rae’s chin quivered. “I’m in danger of losing my home to be honest with you. I live upstairs. Not to mention that Ingrid may have to move in with me if she doesn’t find a way to pay off her mound of debt. I love my daughter, but can’t abide the thought of sharing my small space with her. Oh, why am I burdening you with my troubles?” She straightened and glanced at each of us. “It’s my business. I’ve something in the works that will take care of everything. Let me know if I can serve you further.” She whirled and stepped through a curtained door.

  Well, the woman definitely seemed to need a chunk of money. Thus, a motive for murder under the right circumstances. I sipped the fragrant tea. Quite good.

  “Are you happy?” Mom wiped her mouth with an embroidered napkin. “We’ve probably ruined that poor woman’s day by reminding her of her problems.”

  “We could always give her suggestions for running a successful business, but I doubt she’d listen.” I picked up my sandwich and dwelled on what type of shoes I might want to go with the dress. Maybe a champagne colored pair of sandals with a kitten heel?

  “I’m going to offer anyway,” Mom said. “It’s the least we can do. You know how I like to help those in need.”

  “If she says yes, you can prod her for more information.”

  Lynn sighed. “Can’t we have an outing without gathering clues? I’m sure Lindsey isn’t interested.”

  “Yes, I am,” Lindsey said. “We’re the three Callahans, a crime-solving group of three generations.” She lifted her tea cup in a toast. “Mom and Grandma may no longer be Callahans, but that stubborn blood runs in all of our veins.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” Lynn shook her head. “Fine. What do you want me to do? I might as well get in on the fun. I’ve managed to stay out of it for months.”

  “Seriously?” I straightened, not believing my good fortune. “Can you ask around the school to see whether anyone held a grudge against Mrs. Grimes? Subtly, of course.”

  “Of course.” She set her cup on its saucer. “I can tell you right now the woman wasn’t very liked by anyone, except for maybe Cheryl. She likes everyone, but I can bring up the murder during prep and lunch time and see what others say.”

  I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “You’re the best friend ever.”

  “Don’t you forget it, either.” She returned the squeeze. “Just don’t get me held at gunpoint, okay? I’ll freak out.”

  “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

  “I need some gum.” Lindsey grabbed my purse and opened it. “Mom, why do you have a gun in here?”

  “Shhh.” I grabbed my purse. “Don’t announce it to the world!”

  “You think someone is going to try to kill you again, don’t you?” Tears welled in my daughter’s eyes. “I’d kind of like my children to have a grandmother.”

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m perfectly safe this time.”

  “What about that car running us off the road?” Mom raised her eyebrows.

  “You told me you slid in a puddle of water.” Lindsey tossed down her napkin. “Can’t you snoop without making people mad at you?” She stood and marched toward a door that said restroom.

  The rest of us watched her go. I shrugged. “You can’t solve a murder without danger.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sunday afternoon, I took a break between church and supper to finally dig through Mrs. Grimes’s journal. Her penmanship looked like a typewriter font. Her entries were about Sir Galahad, the cat, mostly. Sometimes she mentioned frustrations with the “insipid fools” from the book club. Way to win friends and influence people, Mrs. Grimes.

  Another entry mentioned a deep burning desire to quit her job at the school and run off to Mexico with the man of her dreams. Surely she didn’t mean Mr. Dean. I gagged. Reading someone else’s private thoughts was both entertaining and embarrassing, yet I couldn’t stop. When I reached a particularly intimate moment with her boy toy, yes, she actually called him those words, I skipped to the last few pages of the book.

  Bingo! Mrs. Grimes saw the fulfillment of everything she’d dreamed of in the form of an old pirate’s treasure map stuck between the pages of a book. While the book itself wasn’t worth a lot of money, she trusted the map to be real and was searching for someone knowledgeable about old maps.

  I closed the journal and stared out my bedroom window. I’d have to give Bruce a copy of the journal and the map. Once he found out I’d taken something from the victim’s home, he’d arrest me for sure. I never should have told him about the map. I could mail the journal anonymously, but he already knew I had the map in my possession. Or, I could just put the journal back into her house. That would definitely impede the investigation, though. I couldn’t do it. I’d have to take my chances and pay him another visit. Two hours in the dental chair sounded like more fun.

  Grabbing my purse from the dresser, I checked my hair, then shuffled out the door, sure I’d be spending the night in jail, or at least a few hours until Duane or Mom bailed me out. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t keep the journal and map, not when it might provide Bruce with the information he needed to solve the case.

  I stopped in the home office long enough to make a copy of the map on our printer. Then, I folded the original, stuck it in the pages of the journal, and headed to my rental car. Bruce wouldn’t be working on a Sunday, not with a rookie on the force, so instead of heading to the police station I drove to his modest ranch house on the outskirts of town.

  When I pulled into his driveway, Bruce sat on his front porch in basketball shorts and a white tank top. I shook my head to try and rid my mind of his bony legs poking from the bottom of the shorts. At least he wasn’t in uniform. It might be easier to hand the things over to him if he looked like a regular citizen. I exited the car, tucked the journal under my arm, and marched toward him.

  “It must not be good news if you’re coming to my house.” Bruce met me at the steps to his porch.

  I handed him the journal. “Here is Mrs. Grimes’s journal and the treasure map. I hope it helps you find the person who killed her.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “How did you get this?”

  “Mom found it when we went to fetch the cat. His name is Sir Galahad.” I straightened my shoulders and put my hands behind my back. Maybe if he didn’t see them, he wouldn’t be tempted to cuff me.

  He sighed. “You read it?”

  “Most of it.”

  “And you feel it contains something of importance?”

  Well, duh. “It gives a motive. Mrs. Grimes received the treasure map along with a shipment of antique books. Whether or not the map is real,
someone most likely thinks it is.”

  “Who do you suspect?” Bruce leaned against the railing.

  Was he actually asking for my opinion? “I have too many to mention at this time, but rest assured, I have spies digging for information.”

  “I’m sure you do. You probably also kept a copy of the map, correct?”

  “I plead the fifth.”

  “Does this mean you’ll stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

  Right. Dream on. “No, it means I’ll share whatever information I find. Have a good day.” I flashed him a grin and almost skipped to my car. He hadn’t arrested me. I drove on clouds all the way home.

  When I went in the house, everyone was in the living room watching the Hogs play football. I perched on the arm of the chair Duane sat in and kissed the top of his head.

  He grabbed my hand. “Where were you?”

  “Turning evidence over to Bruce.”

  “Are you feeling sick?” Duane chuckled. “This has got to be a first.”

  I punched his shoulder. “I always turn things over when I’m finished with them.”

  “Now we can’t find the treasure.” Mom handed me a diet soda.

  “Oh, I kept a copy of the map.”

  “Treasure? What treasure?” Leroy perked up. “Let’s see that map.”

  I rushed to the office and grabbed the photocopy, but not before printing off two more copies and slipping them into a file marked bills. “This belonged to Mrs. Grimes. Does it mean anything to you?” I held out the paper as I dashed back into the room.

  Leroy studied the map. “This shows the location of all the places Jesse James and his brother stashed their loot. Supposedly, there are four locations in Arkansas. One in Hot Springs, one around Paragould, one in Springdale, and one around Mena. More fools than you’d see at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade has looked for these treasures.”

  “So it isn’t real?” I plopped on the sofa.

  “The map is real all right.” He handed it back to me. “I just doubt whether there’s anything there. I’m sure Jesse James’s cohorts retrieved this stuff a long time ago. Everyone and their Grandma have gone looking for these treasures.”

  “But what if?” Lindsey pulled her gaze away from the television. “It could be there or at least one of the places. We could be rich.”

  “Someone killed for this map,” Mom reminded her. “You’ll have to stay home when we search.”

  “That’s so unfair!” Lindsey pouted. “I’m not a child, you know.”

  “No one is going anywhere,” Leroy said. “It’s a wild goose chase.”

  What if it wasn’t? What if the killer somehow knew the treasure was still there and only needed the map in order to retrieve it. In desperation, they could have threatened Mrs. Grimes and when she didn’t cave, they killed her. Some people would do anything for money.

  Leroy ripped the map into shreds. “Now, none of you crazy females will go looking for something that will get you killed.”

  Mom and Lindsey’s mouths dropped open. I clamped my mouth closed and did my best to look furious. Good thing I made extra copies. Sometimes, I surprised myself with my intelligence.

  I met Mom’s gaze. From the determined look in her eyes, we’d be heading to the spots on the map at the first opportunity. From the look on Duane’s face, he realized the same thing, and with all four places on the map scattered from one corner of Arkansas to the other, we’d have to find a way to be gone for a few days. Something I couldn’t do. Not with organizing the book fair. “There’s no way I have time to check this out.”

  “I’ll take you to one on Saturday.” Duane pulled me from the sofa and into his arms. “If I don’t, you’ll drive yourself crazy thinking about it.”

  “We can make it a family trip.” Mom jumped to her feet. “This calls for tea.” She raced to the kitchen, leaving the rest of us laughing.

  I wrapped my arms around Duane’s neck. “Saturday sounds wonderful.” I’d have to work overtime on the fair during the week, but it would be worth it if we found something.

  “Saturday is our busiest day of the week,” Mom said. “But I guess it wouldn’t be good to take off church on Sunday to go treasure hunting. I’ll put a sign up tomorrow so we give our customers plenty of notice.”

  “I’ll post something on the website, too,” Lindsey said. “Regardless of what y’all say, I’m going with you. This is the coolest thing in a long time. We can use grandpa’s old metal detector.”

  I’d forgotten about that old thing. Mom had kept all Dad’s things in the guest house, and I’d gone through it all before moving in there until Mom married Leroy and we changed places. I’d put all the keepable things in the back closet. “That’s a good idea. Oh, and the wedding colors are ivory and vintage rose.”

  “Pink?” Duane frowned. “You want me to wear pink?”

  I pulled back. “It isn’t pink. It’s rose.”

  “Same thing. Can I wear all black?”

  I tweaked his nose. “You can wear anything you want.” I meant it. He’d be gorgeous in jeans and a tee-shirt. I lowered my voice. “Want to elope?”

  “And risk your mother’s wrath? I don’t think so.” He gave me a quick kiss and sat back down to watch the game. I counted myself lucky I was able to drag him away for even a couple of minutes.

  I moved to the kitchen and spread out my notes on the book fair. Things were falling into place. Cheryl had emailed me with the list of attractions: face painting, darts, a bounce house, a fish bowl toss, and the final extravaganza was the haunted hall leading to the library. Duane and Leroy would build it, also acting as macabre characters. Lindsey said all her friends were looking forward to it and she hoped it wouldn’t be lame. I promised to do my best.

  Now the task to make it exciting loomed in front of me. Maybe a horde of zombies that wandered the hall and a chainsaw welding maniac would keep things lively. I’d also need monsters that popped up from hidden places. Maybe an acted out scene or two of some grisly medical procedure that participants would watch. I jotted down my ideas.

  Why didn’t today’s teens enjoy the simple things like three-legged races and ice cream socials? We still had the milder forms of entertainment at church every year and they seemed to enjoy themselves, but Halloween was an entirely different matter. Today’s youth wanted to be scared spitless. Maybe a scene of hell and brimstone with a laughing Satan would do the trick. That was certainly enough to scare me.

  Having organized my notes, I turned to my list of suspects. Mr. Dean was the only name on the page. I added the members of the book club, having a strong feeling that Mrs. Grimes had blabbed to them about the map. I tapped the ink pen against my front teeth, and then added the small amount of PTSO members. If the librarian was as prolific with her verbal words as she was with the written ones, she’d most likely told anyone close enough to listen that she might soon be in possession of a treasure.

  I prayed this mystery wouldn’t see another death. The body count on the last two had been several with me almost being one of them. So far, God had kept me and my family safe from my nosiness. How long would that protection last when I actively put myself in harm’s way?

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” I headed to the foyer and opened the front door.

  A serious faced Bruce stood on the front porch. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” I stepped outside and pulled the door closed. “Am I in trouble?”

  “I got this taped to my front door. I hope you’ll heed the warning.” He handed me a slip of yellow computer paper.

  “Tell Marsha Steele to stay out of it.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The craft group was in full swing making quilts for the nursery of River Valley’s homeless shelter. Their laughter and conversation kept me entertained as I refilled the pitcher of sweet tea.

  “Marsha knows what I’m talking about,” Dottie Baker, the woman I’d saved from a maniac a few months ago said. Bless her h
eart. She’d been my advocate ever since.

  I lifted the tray with the pitcher and small sandwiches and waltzed into the back room. “I know what?” I set the tray on a side counter.

  “That people will kill for money.” Dottie waved a curved quilting needle in the air. “We know first hand the evil that resides in men, and women. Gertie was telling us about a treasure map you found that belonged to Mildred. It’s got to be about money. Half this town wouldn’t turn down a fortune.”

  “I still say that most people are honest and hardworking.” Betty Larson, the oldest of the group at eighty, stabbed her needle through the yellow quilt. “I refuse to think otherwise.”

  “I agree,” I said. “But if someone is in dire straits, some will kill. Who in this town needs money in a bad way?”

  “Get your notepad, girlie,” Dottie said. “And we’ll tell you.”

  “Thank you. You ladies were a great help with the last mystery.” I grabbed a notepad from a drawer and sat down.

  Mom got up and closed the back door. “No sense in letting anyone within hearing distance get an earful.”

  She most likely meant Leroy if he wandered by. Poor man. He hadn’t gotten used to the idea yet that his new wife was a Jane Marple wanna be. Me, I preferred Nancy Drew.

  “Okay.” Dottie set down her needle. “First off, there’s Norma Rae Jennings. She’s about to lose that over-decorated tea shop. If she does, then her mouse of a daughter, Ingrid, will have to live with her. Those two are like a rabbit and a snake, if you get my meaning. Then, there’s Brad and Janet Snyder. Everyone knows they’re up to their necks in debt because of Brad’s gambling habits. Mr. Dean has a secret, but no one here has been able to ferret it out.”

  She took a dramatic gulp of tea. “Estelle Willis, the English teacher at the high school, hates teaching, or so I’ve heard. Wants to retire somewhere exotic and write her own murder mystery. Then, there’s the school office manager, Sarah Boatwright, who spends money like she’s dropping breadcrumbs.”