The Magic Library Mysteries Collection: The Complete Series, Books 1-3

by Hillary Avis

  THE MINUTE HER SHIFT ended, she called Kara from the side yard of Golden Gardens. “When’s your lunch break?”

  “Now.” Kara’s voice was muffled, like she was trying to conceal the conversation from someone in the room. “I’m eating at my desk, why?”

  “Is Leroy there?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Can you get him out of there?”

  “Just a sec.” Allison heard some rustling, footsteps, and the bang of what sounded like a bathroom stall door. Kara whispered, “OK. That’s the thing. He never leaves. The other deputies take smoke breaks on the fire escape or whatever, but he literally sits here and watches me all day.”

  “What if there’s an emergency?”

  Kara snorted. “Like what? Nothing ever happens here. And if it did, he’d just send somebody else. I don’t think he’d leave even if his mother was on fire.”

  Allison snapped her fingers. “That’s it! Thanks. I’ll see you in a few.”

  “But—”

  She hung up on Kara and dialed Myra with her fingers crossed tightly. “You home?” she asked when Myra picked up.

  The piercing squall of a newborn met her ears. “Sh-sh-shhh,” Myra said. “There, there. Don’t wake up your mommy. Yes, we’re home, but you won’t believe how loud this baby can cry. He’s telling us his troubles.”

  Allison chuckled. “I can believe it because I can hear it. Are you up for visitors today?”

  “Crystal’s not, but I am dying to show him off. You want to come over? We can chitchat on the porch or something.”

  “Well—can you do me a favor? Invite Mrs. Gauss to come meet the baby. I’ll visit another day.” Mrs. Gauss, Leroy’s elderly mother, shared a pew with Myra at church, where they traded weekly gossip before and after the service. New babies and newlyweds were two favored topics; there were few things more tempting to Mrs. Gauss’s generation than a freshly born infant or two young people destined for the misery and joys of matrimony.

  “Why Mrs. Gauss?” Myra shushed the baby again, and the noisy crying diminished enough that Myra could hear Nia and Jaden chattering in the background. “Don’t get me wrong, she’d love to meet the baby. But why’s that a favor to you?”

  “It’s a favor for Kara, really. You know how Leroy’s hovering over her like a kindergarten mom on the first day of school? He doesn’t even leave the office at lunch, and she really needs a break. The only person in the world he’ll jump for is his mother, and if you invite her over, she’ll call him for a ride.” Allison crossed her fingers and bit her lip, hoping Myra would agree.

  Myra chuckled. “Well, that sounds like a win-win. I’ll give her a ring.”

  “Thanks, I owe you one.” Allison began the walk back home, the phone still pressed to her ear. The morning chill had burned off while she was inside Golden Gardens, and the summer sun was so high that she barely cast a shadow on the sidewalk. She was grateful for the stiff northerly breeze that cooled the perspiration beading on the back of her neck.

  “No, you don’t—I owe you, remember? For babysitting and for fostering those puppies. How are they doing?”

  “Fine—Taylor has already taken the whole lot of them under his wing, so they’re very entertained. Do they have names? He was asking.”

  “Nia just calls them all ‘pup.’ I’ve been calling them by their collars. You know, Reddy, Bluey, Yellowy—not real catchy.” Myra laughed.

  Allison turned the corner, and the little green house came into view. “I better go. You’ll invite Mrs. Gauss over now?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Allison ended the call. Now all there was to do was wait.

  Chapter 10

  Allison settled up with Taylor. A measly eight bucks, though he’d apparently stayed with the puppies all morning. His stomach growled as she was counting out the bills.

  “I haven’t had lunch,” he said apologetically, rubbing his midsection.

  “You know you can help yourself to anything in the pantry. It might not compare to your grandma’s homecooked meals, but I always have peanut butter and bread.”

  He grinned crookedly at her. “Thanks.”

  “Did you pick names?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. The red one seems like the bravest. He keeps trying to get out and explore. The yellow one just slept the whole morning. Green guy is obsessed with the tennis ball and the blue girl just follows him around trying to steal it.”

  “Well, keep thinking on it.”

  After he left, she double-checked on the pen. The food and water dishes were full, and the puppies were fast asleep in a squirmy, delicious pile. Taylor had earned his eight dollars. Hopefully the puppies would sleep until she got back.

  She took the car. Normally she’d walk the few blocks to Founders Square, but the car would provide her with the cover she needed while she waited for Leroy to leave the police station. She parked on the other side of the square where she had a good view of the front door of the square brick building that housed City Hall and the police station, but where nobody exiting the building would notice her.

  From her vantage point, she could see the Ryes & Shine Bakery, too. Her home for a quarter century. It was still closed, the windows dark, although the awning with the name of the bakery had been removed, and a banner announcing a grand re-opening in July was taped in the wide plate-glass window. The new owner, Eric Blankenship, must be working on staffing and remodeling, and while she sat there in her car, she mused on the direction he might take the business. She hoped Remembrance would embrace him and the new bakery even though he lived in Elkhorn. He seemed like a nice guy—young, ambitious, fresh out of a pastry program at the culinary school in Salem.

  Her attention wandered as she remembered the early days in the bakery with Paul. He’d worked for his parents even as a teenager, but it wasn’t until he was in his early thirties that his parents turned over the operations to him. He’d followed in their careful footsteps, devoting more time to perfecting his recipes than to marketing, so their bakery enjoyed local success but rarely employed anyone outside the family.

  Eric would hopefully find new ways to grow the business, while still retaining their old loyal customers. Maybe when she found Paul’s memories, she could transcribe some of their recipes for him. The bitter taste of despair spread across her tongue. At least someone would benefit from Paul’s years of experience. Paul might never remember his recipes again, but the memory would live on as people in town enjoyed his baking.

  She was jarred out of her thoughts by a flash across the square. The glass door to City Hall swung open, momentarily reflecting the bright sun and alerting her to Leroy’s hasty exit from the building. Mrs. Gauss had cracked her whip, and her not-so-little boy was running to her side. Allison smiled to herself as she waited for him to get in his sheriff’s SUV and drive off. He’d be gone an hour—or two, if Mrs. Gauss had her way and got to hold that baby.

  She pulled the car around to park in front of City Hall and made her way upstairs to the police station. It was sparsely furnished and brightly lit, with white tiled hallways and yellowy-beige paint on the walls. All the furniture, from desks to the waiting chairs clustered beneath a crowded notice board, was a utilitarian gray. The only spot of color in the room was Kara’s desk decorations: a collection of succulents in bright turquoise pots and a small hula girl figurine that swayed slightly in the current from the air conditioner in the window. Kara, seated at her desk with a pair of chopsticks poised above her Tupperware container of food, raised an eyebrow when she saw Allison. An open bottle of beer next to her elbow was already half empty.

  “What’re you doing here?” She glanced over at the empty desk on the opposite side of the room. “Leroy finally left, can you believe it? My heart is still pounding every time I make a move.”

  “Why don’t you take your lunch, then? Go outside and get some sun. Relax for a minute.”

  “I can’t leave the office.” Kara motioned over her shoulder to a gray metal door wi
th a reinforced window led to the holding cells. “Someone has to be on duty while we have inmates.”

  “Deputize me,” Allison said, grinning wickedly at her. When Kara rolled her eyes, she added, “I’m not joking! What’s Elaine going to do, stage some big escape in the next fifteen minutes? She won’t even know you’re gone.”

  Kara looked torn. “I don’t know. Leroy could come back any minute.”

  “It’ll be at least an hour,” Allison said smugly.

  Kara’s eyes popped at her. “You arranged this?!”

  “With Myra’s help. It’s not my fault that Mrs. Gauss is a sucker for a newborn baby. It’s Leroy’s own fault for taking away her car keys last year.”

  Kara threw back her head and laughed. “I never guessed him for a mama’s boy.”

  “You’ve never met Mrs. Gauss. She’s four-foot-ten force of nature,” Allison said, grinning. She picked up Kara’s lunch container and popped the lid back on. “I solemnly swear to uphold the duties of this office and yada yada.”

  “Hands off my lunch, Officer Rye, or I’ll get you with my ‘cop-sticks.’” Kara slurped the noodles still dangling from her chopsticks and snapped them at Allison, giggling at her own joke. It seemed like a cloud had lifted from her face. She really did need the break from Leroy. She downed the last half of her beer and dropped the empty bottle in the bottom drawer of her desk before grabbing the rest of her lunch to take with her. “Buzz me if you have any questions and hit this”—she pointed toward a red button on the wall—“for emergencies. It locks all the doors in the building.”

  Allison snorted and shooed her out the door. She listened to Kara’s footsteps on the stairs and, when the sound disappeared, she eyed the gray door to the holding cells. She was so close, she could taste it. A quick search of Kara’s desk turned up the keys—and a whole collection of empty beer bottles, Allison noticed. Kara was finding ways to sneak past Leroy’s sharp eyes to unwind with a drink, even though she didn’t seem to be able to smuggle her empties out.

  She didn’t have time to think about that now. Her heart pounding, Allison unlocked the gray door and slipped the keyring over her wrist. The cramped back room only housed two cells and a narrow hallway in front that was empty save for a single folding chair. Between the bars, Allison spotted Elaine’s salt-and-pepper bob in the far corner. She was bent over a worn paperback book—a romance, judging by the cover. Elaine looked up from the page when she heard the door close.

  “You.” It wasn’t a question. She closed the book and smoothed the cover. “I assume you want something.”

  Allison scooted the folding chair over in front of Elaine’s cell. “I’ll get right to the point. I’m not going to press charges against you for kidnapping my dog, assaulting me, or locking me in the basement. In return, you’re going to plead guilty to murdering Tim and Dara Robinson. Or make a deal with the DA for lesser charges. I don’t care. Just do it this week.”

  Elaine laughed long and hard. When she’d recovered her breath, she asked, “And why would I do that, exactly, when there’s no evidence I had anything to do with those murders?”

  “Because you don’t want to put our children through a messy, ugly trial. At this rate, Zack’s going to lose his job.” And Emily’s ready to cut me out of her life if I make one wrong step, she didn’t say.

  Elaine’s face sobered at the mention of Zack’s name. “Maybe, but he’ll understand when he realizes what’s at stake. When he learns what was stolen from him.”

  “Or maybe he’ll realize what an evil, manipulative person you are and never speak to you again.” Allison shrugged, her heart pounding. Had Elaine just admitted that Zack didn’t know about the murders? Or was she just lying and denying, as usual?

  Elaine’s voice was acid. “You’re the one who will lose out when Emily learns what you did.”

  “What, save myself from starving to death in a dark basement? Yeah, she’ll be so disappointed in me, and she’ll embrace the woman who made her father forget she existed. Right.” Allison rolled her eyes.

  Elaine shrugged. “We’ll just have to see, I guess. Time will tell.”

  Time was exactly what Allison didn’t have. “Here’s the deal. If you don’t plead guilty—I’m talking signed in ink and irrevocable—this week, I’m going to make some adjustments to your books in the library. Some deletions.” Elaine’s eyes widened in horror, Allison noticed with some satisfaction. “What, you thought you were the only one ruthless enough to rip someone’s life out of those books? Think again. I’ll remove every memory you have of your son, I swear to God.”

  Elaine’s cheeks took on a faint green tinge under the fluorescent lights and a moment later she lunged for the open toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into it. When she’d finished, she raised her head from the bowl, her face haggard. It was like she’d aged ten years in ten seconds.

  “Zack is all I have,” she croaked.

  “So what? Paul and Emily are all I have,” Allison said fiercely. “I have no qualms about removing him from your memory. The doctors will blame it on a psychotic break or some rare form of dementia, and you’ll rot in jail, alone. That’s just fine with me.”

  Elaine rose shakily and splashed some water on her face from the sink, carefully drying her hands and dabbing the droplets from her face with a thin towel before taking her seat on the hard, narrow bench again. She leaned back against the wall as she regarded Allison for several long minutes. Then she picked up her book. “You win. I’ll do it.”

  “Soon.”

  Elaine nodded. “I said I would.”

  Allison barked a humorless laugh. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. But you can believe me that I’ll be ripping out pages on Saturday if I don’t hear that you’ve taken the necessary steps.”

  The romance novel opened again, and Elaine returned to reading as though Allison weren’t in the room.

  “One more thing.” Allison waited until Elaine looked up at her. “Where’s your storage unit? You have some things in there that belong to me.”

  Elaine’s face slowly rearranged itself into an expression that at first Allison didn’t recognize. It took a few seconds before she realized it was pure, unadulterated delight. The sight was more chilling than anything she could have imagined.

  Her heart in her throat, she asked, “What are you so happy about?”

  “I knew you were spying on my memories. You added some, too, didn’t you? You wrote in the books that I killed those people. That’s why the memory is so strange and fuzzy. Trust me, if I killed someone, that memory would be sharp. One might even say...crisp.” She chuckled at her own macabre joke.

  Allison felt reckless as anger surged under her skin. “Tell me what I want to know, or I’ll pull out all your memories of Zack today.”

  “It’ll take longer than that to find them all.” Elaine snapped her book shut and stood up, moving until her face was only millimeters from the heavy wire mesh of the cell door. Allison would have scooted her chair back if it wasn’t already against the wall. “Do you want to know how long it took to find Paul’s? Years. I spent years. Zack’s filing a motion to transfer my case up north. I’ll be long gone before you find all my memories.”

  “Not all. Just the ones of your son. Those will be a lot easier to find, trust me.”

  Elaine raised an eyebrow, her face still smug. “Better get going, then. Because I have no idea where Zack stored my things. I specifically told him not to tell me, because I had a feeling you’d try something like this. You can look in the books all you want, but you’ll never find it.”

  Black dots swam in front of Allison’s eyes, overwhelming her vision. She stood, ears ringing, and felt her way to the door that led back to the office. She locked the door to the holding area and replaced the keys in the drawer on autopilot before sinking onto one of the sterile gray chairs in front of Kara’s desk and stared at the wall, trying to take calming breaths to slow the drip of adrenaline from her panicked brain.

&
nbsp; Kara returned just a few minutes later, her lunch tote clamped under her arm, beaming. She dropped the bag on her desk and stretched out her arms, squeezing her eyes shut as she spun around. “That was just what I needed! Some vitamin D and some vitamin freedom!” Her eyes popped open and she took in Allison’s hunched posture. “Are you feeling OK?”

  “What? Yes. Fine. I’m fine.” Allison couldn’t help darting a look at the gray door, behind which she could still sense Elaine’s malevolent presence. It was stupid, giving her so much power. She was locked up, probably forever, even if she didn’t plead guilty. She couldn’t hurt anyone, not directly.

  It was Zack that Allison needed to worry about now. He was the one who murdered the Robinsons by putting a rattlesnake in their tent. He was the one who knew where the storage unit was located. He was the one whose memories she needed to access.

  “Allison?” Kara’s forehead creased with concern, and she moved toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Gotta go!” Allison stood up abruptly and left, leaving a bewildered Kara in her wake.

  Chapter 11

  Sharon Fitzbaum, the new post office clerk, blinked lazily at her over the counter. “You can’t rent a box in someone else’s name. That’s illegal.”

  “I’m organizing their wedding” Allison clutched her purse nervously between her body and the front of the blue Formica service counter as she argued. “RSVPs will be pouring in, and some may be addressed to them. Can you just add their names to my box?”

  “I’ll need two forms of ID to add another recipient. Have them come in.”

  “If they could come in, they wouldn’t need to use my post office box. They live all the way up in Portland. Not exactly convenient for checking your mail in Remembrance,” she snapped. Her irritation was real, even though her reasoning wasn’t. “They’re family. I don’t see why you can’t make an exception. It’s not like I’m trying to steal their mail.”

  No, just their memories.