by Eva Gates
I filled Charles’s dishes and made myself a big pot of coffee. I sat at the table and opened my iPad to check the news online. As could be expected, Jay Ruddle’s death was the number-one topic. Sam Watson was quoted as saying they were treating the death as a homicide and were close to making an arrest. None of us, the library community, were mentioned, and that was a good thing. I intended to have nothing to do with the police investigation. I wasn’t even going to think about who might have been responsible. I knew nothing about Jay Ruddle’s life or any enemies he might have had, so there was no point in speculating.
The library is closed on Sundays, and today I intended to relax at home in the morning and get caught up on my reading. I’d have a nice, leisurely, early lunch and then drive into town to meet Josie, as arranged, to go canvassing for Connor. Then he and I were planning to have dinner together. A perfectly normal Sunday.
My phone rang, and I answered it, thinking that, whatever the result, Connor needed this election to be over. He had looked tired yesterday.
“Lucy!” A man yelled so loudly I blinked and moved the phone away from my ear. “Something terrible has happened.”
“Theodore, is that you?”
“You have to help.”
“Help with what?”
“It’s Julia. My fair Julia. She’s been arrested for murder. I’m on my way to the police station. I’ll meet you there. Lucy, you have to do something!”
He hung up. I was left staring at the phone in my hand.
Chapter Eight
I had absolutely no idea why Theodore thought I could help Julia. The trek to the police station would be a useless endeavor. Detective Watson was never inclined to let me sit in on his questioning of a suspect, but I would go anyway. I’ll admit I was curious as to what they had on Julia, but mostly I figured that, as my friend had called me for help, I’d show up and offer a sympathetic shoulder.
I drove into Nags Head to the police station. I saw a few costumes on the streets, and decorations draped the front of some of the bars and shops, but at the police station you’d never know this was Halloween week.
Probably just as well.
I found Theodore sitting in one of the hard, uncomfortable (as I knew from past experience) plastic chairs in the outer room. He jumped to his feet the moment he saw me. “Lucy, thank heavens you’ve arrived.” He wrapped his arms around me in a hug so ferocious I struggled to breathe. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, not the Harris Tweed that smelled heavily of pipe smoke.
I patted his back feebly. When he finally pulled away, I noticed that we were not alone. Greg Summers watched us through narrow, suspicious eyes.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” he replied.
“What happened?” I asked Theodore. He dropped into a seat. I took the third chair, the one between him and Greg.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Theodore said. “Other than that the police have arrested Julia for the murder.”
“It’s ridiculous,” Greg snapped. “An incompetent, small-town cop jumping to conclusions.”
“Why?” I said.
“I don’t know,” the two men chorused.
“The cops came around to the hotel first thing this morning,” Greg said. “We were sitting down to breakfast, when they marched into the dining room and told her to come with them. Poor Julia didn’t even understand what was going on at first. The police could have shown some consideration for Julia’s embarrassment. Everyone stared at her. Some people even took pictures. I might sue.”
I looked at Theodore. “How did you hear about it?”
“I … uh … just happened to be standing outside the hotel when the police came out with Julia.”
“Right. You just happened to be there,” Greg said.
I glanced between the two men. Theodore with his thinning hair, pinched face, bad teeth, nervous manners, and brand new clothes. His pants too tight, the T-shirt unfashionably tucked in and secured by a heavy belt. Greg, handsome, smooth, sophisticated in black jeans and a gray golf shirt worn under an open denim shirt with sleeves rolled up. He pushed a lock of casually coiffed hair off his forehead.
“Did they actually say they were arresting her?” I asked. “Give the warning and everything? Or only ask her to come with them?”
“I didn’t hear a warning,” Greg said.
“Then they’ve just brought her in for questioning,” I said.
Theodore beamed. “See! I told you Lucy would be able to help.”
“I can’t help! I don’t know anything about it.”
“You solved those other cases, Lucy,” he said.
“I didn’t. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Or more to the point, the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I have faith in you, Lucy,” he said, throwing a satisfied smirk at his rival.
“Well, I don’t,” Greg replied. “I’ve called Jay’s lawyer and asked him to arrange for someone to represent Julia. I don’t want some overworked, underpaid public defender, nor—pardon me, Lucy, but it’s time to be blunt—a part-time detective who’s also a small-town librarian.”
“I’m not—”
“I recommend Stephanie Stanton,” Theodore said. “As I told you, she has an excellent reputation.”
“So excellent, she lives in Nags Head,” Greg replied. “No, I want nothing but the best for Julia.”
“Ms. Stanton—” Theodore began.
I lifted my hand. “A moot point. It’s unlikely Steph can represent Julia. She was at the library yesterday and could possibly be called as a witness. If it ever comes to trial.”
Greg tried not to smirk.
“How long have you worked for Jay?” I asked.
“Three years. It’s a good job, pays well, and isn’t too demanding. But, well, time to move on. I got a good offer from a museum, and I wanted to take it. Jay interviewed a few other candidates for my job, but he didn’t care for any of them, and so he decided to find a new home for the collection.”
“Do you think some of those rejected job applicants might have a grudge against him?” I asked.
“I can’t see it. He didn’t seriously consider any of them.”
“Excellent,” Teddy said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Write that information down, Lucy.”
I was determined not to be pulled into playing detective. Instead of making notes, I said, “Did Julia have much interest in the collection?”
Before Greg could answer, the door to the inner sanctum opened, and Julia and Sam Watson came through. We leapt to our feet. Julia’s nose and eyes were red and swollen, her pale face streaked with tears. Watson glanced at the waiting trio and did not smile.
“Ms. Ruddle’s free to go,” he said, “for the time being. She is not to leave Dare County.”
“Detective, why—?” I began.
He turned and walked away.
Theodore grabbed one of Julia’s arms, and Greg the other. She gave them each a sad smile. “Thank you for waiting. Let’s get out of here.”
Neither of Julia’s two escorts appeared to be ready to release her arm, so they had to turn themselves sideways to squeeze through the door, three people in a row. I brought up the rear.
“I have my car,” Theodore said. “Allow me to take you to the hotel, Julia. Greg can follow us.”
“Not a problem, buddy—I’ll take her. Come on, Julia.”
Teddy’s smile required considerable effort.
“At the moment, I need a cup of coffee and to eat the breakfast I didn’t get,” Julia said. “Do you know any nice places, Theodore? I don’t want to go back to the hotel—not with all those people staring at me.”
“Josie’s Cozy Bakery does an excellent casual breakfast,” he said.
“Thanks for the tip,” Greg said. “See you later, buddy.”
“Why don’t I drive us over?” Theodore said. “You’ll never find it on your own.”
“I have a GPS,” Greg said.
“
Please join us, Theodore,” Julia said. “If you have the time, that is?”
He nodded like an enthusiastic puppy.
“It was kind of you to come down to the station to give me moral support,” Julia said. “I’ll come in your car, and Greg can follow. Lucy, would you like to join us?”
“Excellent idea,” Theodore said. “She’s a private detective.”
“I’m nothing of the sort!”
“I thought she was a librarian,” Julia said.
“I am a librarian.”
“That’s settled then,” Theodore said.
“Are you sure you want us all with you, Julia?” I said. “You might need some alone time to process everything.”
“Alone time. I’m afraid of alone time. My grandfather and I were close. I slept well last night. My subconscious hasn’t yet absorbed what’s happened.” She took a deep breath and glanced back toward the police station. “That detective isn’t helping.”
A cruiser pulled out of the parking lot under full lights and sirens. The hot sun shone on our heads, but the strong wind off the ocean was sharp with the threat of winter soon to come.
“Why don’t you come in my car, Lucy?” Theodore said. “I can drop you back here later.”
“Okay.”
“In that case,” Greg said, “I’ll go with you too.”
“Not necessary,” Theodore said. “Josie’s is less than a mile away.”
“I thought you said I’d need a map to get there.”
“Store fronts can be confusing.”
“Then I’ll need your help to find it, won’t I?” Greg said.
The men engaged in a surreptitious shoving match to see who’d open the front passenger door for Julia. Greg won, but as Theodore was the owner and driver of the car, he didn’t take his loss too badly. He ran around to the driver’s seat while Greg and I squeezed into the back of the 1998 Neon.
“Toss all that stuff on the floor,” Theodore said.
I swept aside soda cans, fast food wrappers, and empty potato chip packages. I picked a book off my seat. Kiss Me Deadly by Mickey Spillane. It was in excellent condition. I checked the inside pages. A first edition. “This must be a valuable book. You shouldn’t leave it in the car.”
Theodore glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, there it is. I’ve been looking everywhere for that book, and Lucy found it. See what I mean about her being a detective?”
The old car started with series of jolts and jerks, and we rolled out of the police station parking lot. The tourist season was mostly over, and traffic through town was light on a Sunday morning. Although that didn’t prevent Teddy from almost rear-ending a SUV that had slowed to allow the car ahead to make a turn, or running a light and nearly colliding with a big sedan packed with mom, dad, grandparents, and kids, heading home after church. I clung to my seat belt with one hand and Mickey Spillane with the other, in fear for my life. I glanced at Greg. His handsome face was looking somewhat seasick.
Julia stared out the window and said nothing.
“How long do you plan to stay in the Outer Banks?” I asked.
“No longer than I have to.” Greg flinched as Theodore changed lanes, pulling in behind a motorbike, leaving inches to spare. I might have flinched myself. “That detective told us not to leave Dare County. Another reason I want Julia to get a lawyer ASAP. She needs to be able to go home. There are a lot of arrangements to be made.”
“Home is in New York State?”
“Yes. Jay has—had an apartment in Manhattan and a vacation place near Sag Harbor.”
“What about Jay’s children? Is he married?”
“Widowed a long time ago and never remarried. His only son was killed in a car crash when Julia was three. She was his only child. Jay raised her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is Julia’s mother still alive? Have you notified her of Jay’s death?”
“She’s out of the picture.” Greg lowered his voice. “I don’t know the whole story, but it seems as though she’s never been in it.”
“Happy to be of service,” Theodore shouted as he pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall that houses Josie’s Cozy Bakery. Greg and I collided in the middle of the back seat.
We screeched to a halt. One at a time, I released my fingers from the death grip they had on my seat belt.
“Breakfast is my treat,” Julia said. “As you’ve been kind enough to hire a private detective, I’d like to talk things over with her.”
“What private? Oh, you mean me? I’m not—” But I was speaking to an empty car. I tossed the book aside and jumped out.
It was ten to ten, and the café was mostly empty. Breakfast diners had left, and the lunch crowd was still to arrive. Like everywhere in the Outer Banks, business was slowing as the tourist season came to an end.
Theodore led the way to a table for four in a quiet corner. He and Greg took the chairs on either side of Julia, leaving the one directly facing her for me. I didn’t sit down. “They don’t have table service here,” I said. “You have to go to the counter to order.”
“Coffee for me, thanks,” Julia said. “And a muffin or something.”
“Same,” Greg said.
“I’ll have the breakfast sandwich with sausage, if they’re still serving,” Theodore said. “And coffee.”
I went to the counter and placed the order.
“Heard you had some trouble at the lighthouse yesterday,” Alison said as she punched buttons on the cash register.
“To put it mildly. Is Josie in?”
“Taken the day off.”
“Oh, right. I’m supposed to be canvassing with her this afternoon.”
“You can tell Connor he’s got my vote.”
“I will.” Alison gave me four empty mugs and put the muffins on plates. I handed over the money. “Thanks,” I said. So much for this being Julia’s treat.
I delivered the muffins and then poured coffee from the self-serve dispenser. I ran back and forth to the table, asking who wanted cream or sugar. I could have used some help here—never mind help in paying—but Julia and Greg were sort of like guests, and Teddy wasn’t going to give up his seat in case Greg managed to somehow spirit the fair Julia away when he wasn’t looking.
At last everyone was served, and I was able to sit down. “First, let me make it clear that I am not a private detective. I am not a detective of any sort. I am a librarian, and proud to be a librarian. I’m here because Theodore is my friend and he asked me to come.”
“I understand.” Julia smiled at Theodore, and he preened.
Alison brought the breakfast sandwich. “Who’s having this?”
Theodore lifted his hand, and she put it in front of him. When she was out of earshot, Greg said, “No point in beating about the bush here. Why’d that hick cop haul you down to the station, Julia?”
“Don’t underestimate Sam Watson,” I said. “He’s no fool.”
“Whatever,” Greg said.
“I’m serious,” I said. “He was with the NYPD in homicide for many years.”
“Whatever,” Greg repeated.
“If you don’t want to discuss the matter,” Theodore said, “don’t feel you have to.” He picked up the sandwich with his left hand and took a bite.
“It’s okay,” Julia said. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” She studied the depths of her mug. No one spoke for a long time. “It seems,” she said at last, “Granddad was holding something of mine when he died.”
“So?” Theodore said.
“What was it?” Greg said.
“My necklace.” Instinctively she put her hand to her bare throat.
“How’d it get there?” Greg said.
“Who told Detective Watson it belonged to you?” Theodore put the sandwich back on its plate.
“Anyone at all might have mentioned it,” she said. “It was my necklace.”
“I remember,” I said. “A thin gold chain with a small diamond.” Julia had been wearing it when she arrived yester
day afternoon, and I’d noticed it was gone when everyone was enjoying refreshments after Louise Jane’s talk. I’d next seen the necklace when I found Jay’s body. It had been dark in the windowless room, full of shadows, but the light from the desk lamp had caught a flash of gold between his fingers. Watson hadn’t asked me about it, and I was glad I hadn’t been the one to tell him. Maybe he hadn’t seen it yet when he questioned me.
A tear leaked out of Julia’s right eye. “It broke. I was fingering it, and the chain snapped. He grabbed it out of my hand and said I had to pay attention. Those were the last words my grandfather ever said to me.” She wrapped both hands around her cup, as if seeking warmth. “I can be clumsy sometimes.”
“Easy enough to explain.” Theodore stuffed a piece of his sandwich into his mouth. “Detective Watson didn’t need to make such a fuss of it. I’ve had a brilliant idea. As you’re staying here longer than planned, would you like to tour the Wright Brothers historic site this afternoon? It’s fascinating. I haven’t been in years.”
“We’re not here as tourists, buddy,” Greg said.
“I don’t believe I invited you.”
“I’ll remind you that Julia’s grandfather has died.”
“All the more reason to get her mind off her tragic loss. A nice outing would be precisely what the doctor ordered.”
I ignored the men’s bickering as I tried to recall the sequence of events yesterday afternoon. “Julia, you were wearing the gold chain when you arrived at the library. You and your grandfather went your separate ways. If it ended up in his hand, it’s natural enough for Detective Watson to want to know how it got there.”
She ducked her head, and a lock of black hair fell over her eyes. “I … I went inside the library. After we found our seats.” She glanced at the two men. “I told you I was going to the restroom. I didn’t. I went upstairs to talk to Grandfather. I didn’t agree with giving away the collection. I wanted to keep it in the family. I wanted to learn to take care of it myself. I loved my grandfather very, very much, but he had some old-fashioned opinions on the roles of women. My degree is in English literature.”
“Then we have something in common,” I said.
