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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Bruce pulled out his infernal notepad. “Why did you suspect your daughter to be the culprit?”

  “She came up behind me.” I crossed my arms. “I’d just seen the store and grabbed a broom in case the guilty person was still here. It was a reflex action. She said she was hiding in the bathroom while the store was being trashed.”

  He nodded. “You didn’t see the person responsible?” he directed at her.

  “No. They didn’t say anything. I heard the glass break and almost came out, but then I could tell they were throwing things around.” She sniffed and, using the wall for support, slid to her feet. “I think there was more than one person, but I’m not sure.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The footsteps sounded different. These walls are pretty thin. It’s actually kind of embarrassing if you need to use the restroom when customers are here.”

  Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Let’s stay on topic, shall we?”

  “Make it quick, Bruce. My daughter is in pain.” Yes, it was my fault, but there was no sense in making her suffer longer than necessary. We should have gone on the treasure hunt.

  Officer Bradford joined us and set to work taking notes on the condition of the store. Personal experience had taught me that the store would be closed for a few days while they did their investigation. No need for us to be fingerprinted. We were experienced at how the legal system worked. Our prints were already on file.

  “What have you been getting into, Marsha? Anything you haven’t told me?” Bruce speared me a glance.

  “No, we haven’t even started to spread any—” Oh, no.

  “Any what?” His face reddened.

  “Nothing.”

  “I can tell from the tone in your voice it’s anything but nothing. Don’t make me call Duane.”

  Oh, the man played dirty. “We were going to spread a little rumor around town that we’d found a treasure. You know, to flush out the bad guy.”

  “You enjoy starting fires, don’t you?” He shook his head. “Don’t forget what I said about meddling in my investigation.”

  How could I? He brought it up every time we were in close proximity with each other. “I haven’t. Spreading rumors isn’t against the law.”

  “Why do you insist on putting yourself in danger? Do you have a death wish?”

  “Of course not. Can we go now?”

  “Not yet. Have a seat over there while we look around.”

  “There’s no one else here.”

  “We’ll be the judge of that.”

  I rolled my eyes and sat in a rocking chair next to one Lindsey claimed. Mom’s eyes flitted from one corner of the room to the other. No doubt she itched to start cleaning and taking inventory. I felt the same way.

  Tears escaped and I rubbed my face on the sleeve of my blouse. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. Only time spent in prayer and a brainstorming session with the family would divulge any results. Mom’s hands might be aching to hold a broom, but my fingers hungered over wanting a pen and sheets of paper. Two people, possibly.

  I stared out the window toward the street. Kids, maybe? It was quite possible the break-in had nothing to do with Mrs. Grimes’s death. If it did, what suspects did we have that were pairs? Norma Rae and Ingrid, Janet and Brad Snyder, those were the only ones. All of whom could have walked up to Stacy on the football field and not raised an alarm in her mind.

  Of course, the killer could have hired a couple of teens to wreck the place. River Valley didn’t have many wayward youth, but there were a few who fancied themselves big city gangers. How could I find out? Lynn had already promised to try and get information from the high school teachers. I doubted she’d want to question the students.

  They probably wouldn’t talk to her anyway. If students behaved as they did when I was in school, not many young people saw teachers as a confidant. Especially when breaking the law. Maybe Duane could put feelers out with the football team.

  I straightened at the sight of Sarah Boatwright staring through the shattered door. Our gazes met for a second before she marched down the sidewalk. Curious. Why hadn’t she asked how we were?

  Lindsey moaned. “I’m thirsty.”

  I leaped to my feet and rushed to fetch her water from the refrigerator in the back. Enough was enough. I grabbed a bottle of water and my purse, then rushed to where Bruce studied a footprint outside the back door.

  “This yours?” he asked.

  “No.” The shoe print was larger and the sole was smooth. The shoes I currently wore had a geometric pattern on the bottom. “I’m taking Lindsey to the doctor. She’s in pain and I’m not having her wait any longer. You know where we are if you need us.”

  “Right. Put your foot next to the print but don’t touch the dirt.” He pointed.

  I hovered my foot over the print. I’d been mistaken. They were the same size. So were Mom’s and Lindsey’s. Mom was wearing ballet flats and Lindsey Converses. “It could be Mom’s print. Mom?”

  She came outside and Bruce had her do the same thing he’d asked me to do. Then he had her step in a soft patch of dirt a few feet away. The prints didn’t match. Finally, a clue. I met Bruce’s gaze over Mom’s head. We were looking for a woman.

  “Don’t go and do anything stupid, Marsha.” Bruce jangled the handcuffs on his belt. “You may now take your daughter to the doctor.”

  “Well, thank you very much.”

  Mom bent over the print that didn’t belong to any of us. I joined her, not really knowing what I was looking for but something about the print seemed off.

  The toe of the right foot was deeper. “Are we looking for someone who is pigeon-toed?”

  Mom shrugged. “I’m not an investigator, but you can bet I’ll be studying people’s shoes more than usual.”

  So would I. We were getting close. It was a race between us and a killer. Who will find who first?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I’m hungry,” Lindsey said. “Can we stop for a burger?”

  “I thought you were in pain.” I turned into the Emergency Room lot.

  “Not anymore. It barely hurts now.”

  She must be in shock. Bruce had kept us waiting too long. I turned off the engine and exited the jeep. Mom was opening Lindsey’s door before I moved around the vehicle.

  “We’re going to have you checked out anyway,” Mom said, glaring at me. “Your mother has a good swing when she wants to. You could have a fracture.”

  “I said it was an accident.” I followed them through the emergency room doors. “You would have done the same.”

  “I. Would. Never. Hit. My child.” With her nose in the air, Mom marched up to the counter.

  To prevent her from opening her mouth and having me arrested for child abuse, I shouldered her aside. “My daughter needs her shoulder x-rayed.”

  “Name.” The woman never looked up.

  Seriously, the customer service at some places. “Lindsey Steele.”

  “Have a seat in the waiting room.”

  Ten people waited on green plastic chairs. We’d be here all day. Maybe urgent care would have been a better idea. We took our seats, Lindsey eyeing the vending machine. I dug in my purse for some change and handed it over.

  “I’ll get it for you, sweetie.” Mom took the money. “You sit there and rest.”

  For heaven’s sake. I punched Duane’s number into my phone and got his voice mail. I left him a message telling him where we were then reclined against the back of the chair.

  Waiting rooms were full of germs. We’d probably all have the flu by the time we left. “Don’t touch anything,” I whispered to Lindsey.

  “They have hand sanitizer over there.” She pointed to the front desk. “Relax.”

  I fidgeted, eyeing the other patients. One man looked as if he could die at any minute. His eyes were closed. A bloody bandage wrapped around his hand. Why was he still sitting here? The one time I’d been rushed to the hospital for eating a poisonous cookie, they’d t
aken me straight back. At least I thought so. I had been a little out of touch with reality.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back and listened to Mom baby talk my sixteen-year-old. The surprising thing was that Lindsey allowed her to. I guess the benefit of a grandmother willing to wait on you hand and foot because your mother tried to kill you was a good thing.

  Lips plastered against mine. I swung, my fist connecting with Duane’s cheek. “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, Uncle Duane. She’s a bit jumpy lately. Almost killed me at the store.” Lindsey reached up for a hug from him.

  “What?” He sent me a questioning glance over my daughter’s head.

  I sighed. “The store was broken into and trashed. I had a broom in my hand as a defense in case the perps were still in the store. When Lindsey came up behind me, I reacted without thinking and hit her.” Much like I’d done when Duane snuck up and kissed me.

  He released Lindsey and grabbed my arm to pull me a few feet to the side. Lowering his voice, he said, “Are you all right? You’re strung tighter than a guitar string. This mystery is too much for you.”

  “No, I’m fine. It was a shock seeing the store like that, and well, with all that’s happened this year, I tend to react before thinking.” The concern in his eyes was almost my undoing. I’d back out of finding the murderer if I could, but I was in too deep.

  “Lindsey Steele.” A nurse appeared in a side door.

  After planting a quick kiss on Duane’s lips, I followed the nurse and Lindsey through the door. Mom scuttled after us.

  “I’ll wait out here,” Duane called.

  The nurse led us to a curtained alcove and proceeded to take Lindsey’s blood pressure. “What are we seeing you for today?”

  “She needs her shoulder x-rayed,” Mom said. “She was hit with a broomstick.”

  “A broomstick?” The nurse glanced at me.

  “It was an accident. She startled me.” I plopped in the padded vinyl chair beside the bed. “Someone had just broken into our business.”

  The nurse narrowed her eyes and studied my daughter. “Does your mother make a habit of hitting you? Don’t be afraid to answer truthfully. You’re in a safe place.”

  Good grief. I rested my elbow on the chair’s arm and plopped my chin in my hand. Now, I’d be labeled an abusive mother. Add that to my resume.

  Lindsey giggled. “No, she usually just yells.”

  “She verbally abuses you?”

  Lindsey’s smile faded. “No, that’s not what I meant. Really, my life is good. Very good.”

  The nurse expelled a sharp breath out her nose. “If you decide that isn’t the story you want to stick with, you can call the local police or this clinic for help.” She undid the blood pressure cuff. “I’ll get the doctor.”

  Tears welled in Lindsey’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know, sweetie. The nurse is only doing her job.” I straightened and waited for the doctor to arrive with his own myriad of questions.

  Thirty minutes later, clipboard in hand, he shoved aside the curtain. “Lindsey? Let’s take a look at you shall we? Would you like your mother and grandmother to give us a bit of privacy?”

  “We aren’t going anywhere, doctor.” Mom crossed her arms. “You’ll only ask her more stupid questions about being an abused child. Which. She. Is. Not.”

  This wasn’t helping. “Do you want us to leave?” I put a hand on my daughter’s arm.

  “No.” Lindsey paled.

  The doctor felt around the area of her shoulder I’d hit, then rotated the arm. “Everything seems fine. It’s most likely bruised but an x-ray won’t hurt.”

  “You can x-ray me if my mom comes, too.” Lindsey lifted her chin.

  That’s my girl. Loyal to the end.

  The doctor sighed. “I don’t think an x-ray is necessary. I see here you don’t have insurance.” He peered closer at me. “Weren’t you in here a few months ago?” His eyes widened. “I recognize you now. You’re the local sleuth.” He shook his head. “It all makes sense now. I’ll get the release papers together.” He shoved aside the curtain again and left.

  “His bedside manner is sadly lacking.” Mom peered around the curtain. “I’m thinking that if you’re going to continue chasing killers, you might want to think about medical insurance.”

  Probably not a bad idea. “Who do you think broke into the store? Do you think it was a warning?”

  “I don’t know.” Mom leaned against the wall. “They didn’t take anything. Not even cash from the register.”

  “Somebody knows we have the map.” I got up and paced the small cubicle. “They may even think we have the treasure. Have you told anyone?”

  “Not yet. There hasn’t been time. Besides, Bruce has the original.”

  “I don’t think it matters. Even the copy shows where the supposed treasure is.”

  “Hot Springs isn’t exactly a small town,” Mom said. “That treasure could be anywhere around there.”

  There was a definitive X marking the spot. A hunter would check there first.

  Quick footsteps passed on the other side of the curtain. A voice yelled out for someone to look where they were going.

  Mom peeked around the curtain again. “Where is that doctor? Oh, here he is.”

  “You ladies are free to go. The shoulder will be bruised for a few days, but ibuprofen should help alleviate the pain. No more swinging brooms, Mrs. Steele.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I helped Lindsey off the bed, relieved I hadn’t done her serious damage.

  Duane was reading a Good Housekeeping magazine when we joined him in the waiting room. Next to him, Leroy read over his shoulder. Upon sight of us, Duane dropped the magazine on a nearby table and stood. “I can’t believe women actually read that kind of stuff. There wasn’t a single sports story in there.”

  I chuckled. “That’s because women are more interested in recipes, keeping a nice home, and looking pretty.”

  “Everything okay?” He glanced at Lindsey.

  “Yes. She’s bruised, but that will heal.” I slipped my arm through his. “She’s also craving a burger.”

  “Wanda’s Diner?”

  “Sounds good. We haven’t been there in a long time.” Lindsey dashed out the door. My daughter would be just fine, and my guilt over her injury would also fade.

  Several minutes later, we all met at the diner and slid into a large corner booth. Through the window, I could see the giant plaster cow that served as a town landmark. That atrocity loomed over the parking lot for the past thirty years. Having once been a barbecue place, Wanda hadn’t wanted to tear it down when she bought the place. Said it added character.

  Wanda strolled up to our table. “Good afternoon. I’m a bit short-handed today. My part-time waitress burned herself in the kitchen and had to go to the ER. What can I get you folks?”

  “Bacon cheeseburgers all around,” Leroy said.

  “I’m looking for a part-time job,” Lindsey said.

  “Perfect. You take the job, and today’s burgers are on the house.” Wanda beamed. “Noon to six on Saturdays and Sundays sound good to you? There might be other times I’ll need your help, but we can start with those days.”

  “I can start tomorrow.” Lindsey practically bounced in her seat.

  “Wonderful. You’re hired.” Wanda put her order pad in the pocket of her apron and rushed off to fetch our orders.

  Lindsey usually helped Mom and I at Country Gifts but I wouldn’t take away her joy at having a real job for anything. She’d still be available for an hour or two each day after school if we needed her.

  “Good job, kid.” Duane clapped her on her shoulder. She winced. He grimaced and apologized.

  “I wonder who got burned?” Mom glanced toward the kitchen. “I haven’t heard of any new help here at the diner.”

  “That Jennings girl,” Leroy said. “The one who also works at the station. I heard she works here on t
he weekends.”

  “Whatever for?”

  He shrugged. “I guess she needs the money.”

  Wanda arrived with iced teas all around. “Food will be ready in about ten minutes.”

  “Is your help Ingrid Jennings?” Mom asked.

  “Yep. I don’t like to talk bad about people,” Wanda said. “but she’s a sullen gal. I’ll probably fire her now that Lindsey’s here. I’ll give her a few more days to change her attitude. If that doesn’t happen, I’m giving her the boot. I don’t care if she’ll have to live with her mother or not.”

  The wheels in my head were spinning faster than a Tilt-A-Whirl. I sipped my sweet tea and stared out the window.

  On the sidewalk outside, Mr. Dean and Mrs. Willis appeared to be in a heated discussion. He stood with his hands deep in his pockets, while her arms flailed with each word. I’d never seen the English teacher so animated. The scene was better than any television drama and served to pull me away from the financial problems of the Jennings. By the time our food arrived, they’d stalked off in opposite directions.

  Full from lunch and ready for a relaxing afternoon, I drove home, minus my daughter who decided to stay and observe Wanda. Mom would be home after running errands with Leroy and Duane headed back to the high school.

  I pulled the jeep into the driveway and was greeted by Cleopatra. I patted her head. “Who let you out of the backyard?” If Lindsey left the gate open, we’d have some words when she got home. “Come on, girl.”

  She followed me up the porch and into a house as trashed as the store.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEN

  After a sleepless weekend and time spent listening to Bruce warn me about an arrest again, the ringing of my cell phone on my nightstand was not a welcome sound. I groped for it, knocking it to the floor, thus having to get mostly out of bed to retrieve it. “Hello? This better be good.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ll think it is,” Lynn said. “How soon can you be at the school? My prep time is in fifteen minutes.”

  “What is it?” I scooted to a sitting position against the headboard.