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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “I guess the meeting is adjourned.” Cheryl picked up her purse from the floor at her feet.

  “Sweetie,” Mom said. “I’d say the club is disbanded.”

  Cheryl shrugged. “Well, I have a lot on my plate right now. It’s just as well. See the two of you at the PTSO meeting.”

  Why did I keep forgetting they’d added the S into the PTO? “Mom, I’m starving. Can we grab a burger before heading to the school?”

  “Sure thing.” We left the building, turning the lights off behind us.

  What a strange twenty minutes. I couldn’t say I’d miss the club since I only joined to try and dig up information on Mrs. Grimes’s death, but it was an interesting time for sure. I thanked God for relieving the item from my stress-filled plate and got into Mom’s boat of a car.

  After stopping for a burger and fries, we arrived at the school a few minutes early. I carried my supper into the library with me. I sighed. The new librarian had already set up the book fair tables and books. No decorations were threaded throughout the items for sale. Nothing showed that there would be a carnival of sorts in a few days. I still had a lot of work ahead of me.

  The attendees for tonight’s meeting were small, consisting of me and Mom, Mr. Dean, Cheryl, Estelle, and the Snyders. I supposed that Sarah Boatwright no longer wanted to attend due to being fired as office manager. To my surprise and delight, Duane waltzed in moments after Mom and me.

  I grinned and motioned to the seat next to me. “This is a surprise.”

  “I figured since this meeting is about the fair, I might as well attend and let everyone know how the main attraction is progressing.” He glanced around the room. “I thought there’d be some decorations in here.”

  “I guess that’s up to me.”

  “I’ll handle this,” Mom said. “I’ve plenty of plastic pumpkins and greenery to spruce this place up before the big night.”

  “We’ve already had a few sales,” Cheryl said. “If everyone will take their seats, we can get started. The sooner we do, the sooner everyone can head home.”

  Sounded good to me. I gave her my utmost attention.

  “First up,” Cheryl glanced at her notes, “is Marsha Steele. Marsha, please fill us in on the progress.”

  I hadn’t known I’d have to speak. My mouth filled with cotton. “Well, everything is looking good. All jobs are filled, fliers in teacher’s boxes, and Duane is working on the tunnel along with my stepfather, Leroy Bohan. We have plenty of student council members to work the haunted tunnel and each class is doing a booth of some kind. I’m confident it will be a wonderful night for the school.” I exhaled sharply and sat back in my seat.

  “Coach? How is the tunnel coming along?” Cheryl motioned for Duane to speak.

  “It’s almost ready. We’ll set it up the night before, and Officer Barnett has promised police coverage for the night.”

  Cheryl’s eyes widened. “Is that necessary?”

  “We don’t want any students goofing off any more than usual,” Duane said. “It’s only a precaution. There will be a lot going on that night. Extra eyes will be appreciated. I’ve also commissioned the football team to help with clean up.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Cheryl cast him an appreciative look. “I don’t think we’ve thought of clean up.” She frowned at me.

  Hey, I didn’t ask for all the responsibility. Only some of it.

  “Mr. Dean, do you have anything to add?” Cheryl asked.

  He raised red-rimmed eyes. “No. Look’s like it’s all taken care of. You’ve done a good job.”

  She beamed under his praise. Estelle huffed. Surely the elderly teacher wasn’t jealous of Cheryl? She was young enough to be Mr. Dean’s daughter.

  A closer watch of the wanna-be author might be in store. Especially if Cheryl appeared to be in any trouble. We didn’t need any more deaths in the name of research.

  Mom dropped a pencil and spent a lot of time under the table looking for it. I yanked on her shirt tail. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at people’s shoes. Why else would I bother coming to this meeting if not to squeeze in some sleuthing.”

  “Well?”

  “Cheryl is wearing flats, but I can’t see the soles. Same with Estelle and Janet Snyder. What happened to women wearing heels?”

  “Flats are in style and more comfortable.” I studied the Snyders. They’d remained quiet during the entire meeting so far and if their body language was any indication, the two were having a silent dispute. I didn’t really consider either of them a major suspect, though, so left them to their disagreement.

  When the meeting’s agenda moved away from the fair, I mulled over my two main suspects…Norma Rae and Estelle. I found it hard to believe that either of them could kill a young, strong woman like Stacy, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility.

  Norma Rae carried a lot of anger inside her skinny body, while Estelle seemed focused on getting her book published no matter what. I might be grasping at straws, but they seemed the most likely ones to have killed Mrs. Grimes. In my mind at least. I just needed that elusive concrete evidence.

  “A penny for your thoughts.” Duane’s breath tickled my ear.

  “Rounding up suspects.”

  “I figured as much. Who do you suspect?”

  “Norma Rae Jennings and Estelle Willis.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Let’s get out of here while you tell me why. Maybe I can shed some light over ice cream.”

  I whispered to Mom that we were leaving and the three of us slipped out of the meeting like fugitives. Mom and I followed Duane to the local Dairy Queen and sat in the booth we’d sat in shortly after Duane’s arrival back in River Valley. Had that really been less than a year? We’d sat in that very booth and watched out the window while a killer stalked my daughter.

  While we waited for our ice cream, I filled Duane in on why I’d chosen those two ladies as my main suspects.

  “It does seem suspicious that Estelle knows so much about the murders,” he said. “But that doesn’t make her a killer. Norma Rae, well, I don’t know enough about her to make a judgment. She does seem very unhappy.”

  “Could you maybe use your charm on Ingrid and find out why she and her mother hate each other so much?”

  “My charm?”

  “Yeah. Ingrid seems lonely. Attention from a handsome man—”

  “You want to pimp me out?” A dimple winked from beside his mouth.

  “That’s a great idea,” Mom said. “I’d have Leroy do it, but you’re more Ingrid’s age.”

  Duane laughed. “You two beat all, you know that? I am not going to flirt with a woman just to garner information from her.”

  “Why not?” I called after him as he moved to get our ice cream. “It happens all the time in one way or another.” At least in the movies. Why wouldn’t it work in real life?

  He slid back into the booth. “I can’t start talking to a woman I’ve never officially met and dig for information. It won’t work. I’ll focus on Estelle. We have the same lunch time.”

  I’d take what help I could get. “Just don’t be alone with her. If she is the killer…I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I think I can handle a sixty-year-old woman.”

  I took a bite of my sundae. I felt pretty good about having narrowed my suspect list down to two. Hopefully, the right two. If only Bruce would be more forthcoming with his own information. Supposedly, he’d been actively investigating the case. I was sure he was having help from the marshal’s office. After all, there were two victims now.

  Somehow, I needed to find out what he knew. The only person that could possibly get me the information didn’t seem to like me much. Still, I’d pay Ingrid a visit and invite her to lunch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Good morning, Ingrid.” I leaned over the receptionist desk at the police station. “How’s the hand?”

  She glared at me over her glasses. “Officer Barnett isn’t in, and the h
and is fine, thank you.”

  “I’m actually here to see you.” How did someone ask someone to lunch who clearly disliked the person doing the asking?

  “Oh, really?” She straightened in her chair and crossed her arms. “Want more information on mine and mom’s storming out of the book club? Or is there something more sinister on your mind?”

  “Why would I have something sinister on my mind?” Really. The woman didn’t know me well enough to make such an assumption.

  She gave a sinister smile. “Are you digging for any information I might have overheard regarding the death of Mrs. Grimes and Miss Tate?”

  “Possibly.” I grinned. “Are you up to it?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, I’ll bite.” She grabbed her purse. “The fact that Mother will be livid at finding out I had lunch with you is enough to make the idea sound good to me. Let’s go.”

  If Ingrid wanted our lunch date to be common knowledge, there was no better place than Wanda’s Diner. We strolled in like best friends, arms linked together, and took a booth in the back. Wanda raised eyebrows at the sight of us and several other customers took second glances. What in the world was so strange about us eating together?

  “Is your mother talking about me?” I asked the moment we sat and had menus in front of us. “We seem to be attracting more attention than I thought we would.”

  “She’s complaining about you all over town.” Ingrid smiled more at that statement than the whole time I’d known her. Actually, it might be the only time I’ve seen her smile.

  I squirmed in my seat. Maybe having lunch with her wasn’t such a good idea. But what could possibly go wrong in a crowded diner? Any sinister business and Wanda would be on the phone with Bruce in an instant.

  “What is she saying?” I folded my menu and set it aside, deciding on a salad.

  “That you’re harassing her, slandering her good name, turning people away from her tea shop.” As I opened my mouth to protest, she held up a hand. “I know you aren’t doing those things, but Mother is upset at having to live with me. I have to admit to a certain amount of misgiving at the idea myself. In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t exactly get along. But, I’ve found a way out of my predicament.”

  Lindsey approached to take our orders, a questioning look blanketing her face. “May I take your orders?”

  “Why aren’t you in school? This job takes second place, young lady.”

  “It’s early release day so Wanda said I could come in early. Seriously, Mom, you need to pay better attention to my schedule.” Her pencil poised over her order pad.

  “Sorry. I’ll take the chef’s salad, ranch dressing, please.”

  “I’ll have the same.” Ingrid handed Lindsey our menus. “Lovely girl,” she said, after Lindsey left. “You’re lucky to have such a good relationship with her.” Sadness clouded her eyes. “So, what is it you want to know?”

  “Does Bruce have any suspects?” I pulled a small spiral notebook out of my purse and fished for a pen.

  “Of course he does. The man is brilliant in his field.”

  Uh-oh. “You have a crush on him?”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m marrying Officer Wilson.”

  “But he’s old enough to be your father.” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry.”

  “He’s good to me. That’s all that matters.”

  “That’s your plan to escape living with your mother?”

  “Yes.” She grinned again. “Oscar has already agreed not to give in to her complaints.”

  Wow. The world was full of surprises. “Do you know who the suspects are?”

  She glanced around the room. “The book club members, the PTSO, you.”

  “Me? Bruce knows me better than that. We’ve known each other since Kindergarten.”

  “But Officer Bradford hasn’t. He says he doesn’t trust you. That maybe you enjoy the notoriety of solving crimes before the police.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. If I killed in order to solve the crime, I’d have to accuse myself.” The man might be handsome, but he was clearly an idiot.

  “I’m just telling you what he says. Of course, Officer Barnett is too clever to believe him.” She waited until Lindsey brought us our salads and left before continuing. “A word of warning, dear Marsha…if you don’t stop nosing around, Officer Barnett is going to arrest you.”

  “He’s said that before.”

  “I think he’s serious this time.”

  I stabbed a piece of hard-boiled egg with my fork. “Have you heard anything else? Anything that will help me, or the police, put a stop to these murders? Maybe you’ve heard something that didn’t mean much at the time you heard it. Maybe something about the footprint found outside my shop?”

  She sat in thought for a moment, her face paling. “No, can’t say as I have.”

  She was lying. I knew it as sure as the salad in front of me. I forked a cherry tomato into my mouth. I could ask her what she knew, but since she didn’t volunteer the information, even going as far as saying she didn’t know anything, I doubted I’d get any more out of her. We sat in silence, the clank of our silverware against the plates seeming to echo. On pretense of studying her shoes, I dropped my napkin. There was no way her size tens made the print. I was no closer to new clues than I was that morning.

  After we finished eating, I paid the bill, left Lindsey a five dollar tip, and followed Ingrid back to my jeep. I pulled in front of the police station. “Thank you for joining me.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

  “That’s all right. It was worth a shot.”

  “I hope we can do this again sometime.” She opened the door. “I don’t have many friends, thanks to my mother.”

  “Sure, we can.”

  “And, Marsha.” She stepped outside and closed the door, sticking her head back through the open window. “Please be careful. The person you’re dealing with is evil personified.” With those encouraging words, she marched into the building.

  She did know who the killer was! I sped to Country Gifts from Heaven. I couldn’t wait to share the news with Mom.

  When I arrived, the store was full of customers buying fall themed decorations. I kept busy restocking shelves as items were purchased, all the while impatient for them to leave. From the back of the store came the excited chatter of the craft group. I’d forgotten they’d booked the room that day. No matter. They often had valuable input.

  After the rush of customers had subsided, I sat at the crafting table where the women were making Thanksgiving centerpieces for the retirement home. The talent of the ladies never failed to astound me. Maybe Mom and I should make a few to sell in the store.

  “Ladies, I need your help.”

  As one they set down their work and stared. “Let’s have it,” Betty said.

  I told them of my lunch with Ingrid and her peculiar behavior when I mentioned the footprint. “I’m certain she knows who the killer is.”

  “It sure seems like it,” Dottie said. “But that quiet girl will never tell. She’d never put herself in jeopardy the way you do.”

  “Did y’all know she’s marrying Officer Wilson?” I poked loose needles into a pincushion.

  “Well, he isn’t the murderer,” Betty said. The three Bates sisters nodded. “He has no motive.”

  True. I rubbed the beginning of a headache from my temples. “Do you think it’s the new officer?”

  “Bradford?” Mom shook her head, leaning against the counter. “I doubt it, although the man is a nuisance. Came into the store again this morning to talk to you. I told him I’d pass on the information. There. I did. What you do with it is up to you. Oh, and I found a buyer for Norma Rae’s tea cups. A thousand dollars for the lot. A nice little profit. Norma Rae should be here any time for her check.”

  “How’s the fair coming along?” Betty asked. “Aren’t you afraid of having a lot of folks in scary costumes considering all that is going on?”

  “I’ve
considered the danger.” More than I’d like to, if I were honest. The fact I’d have to stick close to the haunted tunnel in order to make sure things ran smoothly terrified me. I still couldn’t get the image of someone with a real knife chasing me out of my head. The only consolation was that Duane would be a part of things and that Bruce and the other officers would be on hand. Of course, if Officer Bradford thought me the guilty party, he might not be too inclined to protect me. Maybe, his suspicions about me would keep him close.

  “Hello?” Norma Rae peered around the corner. “What’s this? Doesn’t anyone work around here anymore?”

  “This is a craft group,” Betty explained. “And we’re all amateur detectives. We’re helping Marsha find a killer. We don’t have time for nonsense.”

  I cringed. Betty had just told a prime suspect that we were brainstorming the murders. “I’ll help you, Norma Rae.” I leaped from my chair and followed her back to the front of the store. “We owe you eight hundred dollars. Not a bad little profit for you.”

  “Not nearly enough.” She placed her purse on the counter, the bag making a clunk against the Formica top. “I heard you had lunch with Ingrid today. I’m warning you to stay out of my business, Marsha. I’m not afraid of filing a complaint against you.”

  “There’s nothing against the law about having lunch with a friend.” I pulled the checkbook from the counter safe.

  “Ingrid doesn’t have any friends, and she doesn’t need any like you.”

  “She’s an adult. She can make up her own mind about who she makes friends with.” I should have let mother wait on the woman. I wrote out the check, ripped it from the book, and then slid it across the counter to her. “Have a good day.”

  “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” She snatched the check and marched from the store.

  How could someone be so unhappy? I sent a prayer heavenward for the woman and joined the others again.

  “I’m sorry.” Tears shimmered in Betty’s eyes. “Gertie told me that she was one of your suspects, and I’ve gone and opened my big mouth.”