Whispering Walls & Murder

by Jenna St James

  Rude!

  “One of us needs to be good at carpentry,” Manny said. “Seeing as how we work in a lumber and hardware store.”

  Jordan sniffed. “Well, technically my family owns it so I don’t really work there.”

  “C’mon, Manny,” Jayla said. “Let’s go see what toddler books they have.”

  “Books! Ooks!” Arianna cried, bouncing up and down on her mom’s hip.

  Manny laughed. “Okay, munchkin. Let’s go get you a book.”

  I had a ton of questions I wanted to ask Manny, but I didn’t dare in front of Jordan. Giving him my biggest fake smile, I decided to excuse myself. “Well, Jordan, I need to see about getting to my own place of business. It was nice seeing you again.”

  He gave me a nod, and I swear I could feel his eyes on me as I headed over to the tween, toddler, and baby books. Pretending to browse, I picked up the closest book and read the back…the whole time keeping an eye on the Lopezes and Jordan. When Jordan finally turned his back on us, I hurried down to talk with Manny and Jayla.

  “I really have nothing to say to you,” Manny said. “I know Detective Connors is your fiancé. He’s hounding me for something I didn’t do. I was two hours late for work, and Jordan wrote me up.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Can I just ask one question?”

  “No.”

  “Manny,” Jayla soothed, “stop. You aren’t this person.”

  Manny’s jaw clenched. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He turned to me. “Please accept my apology.”

  “I think a lot of this will be cleared up today,” I said. “I hope that gives you some peace.”

  Manny nodded stiffly, and I turned to leave.

  “Thank you, Jaycee,” Jayla said softly. “It does give us peace.”

  Gathering my courage, I decided to go for broke. “You know who else might gain peace in all this? David’s parents.” I looked Jayla and Manny in the eye. “They know. They know about…” I let my eyes drift down to Arianna who was busy opening and closing a pop-up book. “It breaks their heart knowing and not being able to see her.”

  Two big tears fell from Jayla’s eyes. Figuring I’d done enough damage, I whispered goodbye and hurried over to where Jane Forsythe stood with a cash box so I could pay for my books.

  “Jaycee Sullivan,” Jane said, “twice in one week. Imagine that. I see you found some books.”

  I looked down at the books in my hand. I had no idea what they even were. “Yes, I did.”

  Jane smirked. “Well, they’re no first editions, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.”

  Ding! Ding! Ding!

  And just like that…I thought of something.

  “First editions are hard to come by,” I said, “and costly too. Way out of my price range. Have you ever come across any finds like that while being the librarian here?”

  Jane laughed. “In Traveler’s Bay? No.”

  “You know, I’d really love to see the other collector’s books you have at your home. Do you think you could make time for me to see them?”

  “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I love that type of thing.”

  “Well, I suppose I could accommodate you on that request. I let very few people into my sanctuary to see my precious finds, but I suppose I could make an exception for a fellow bibliophile.”

  “Great! When would be good for you?”

  “I finish at noon here,” she said. “Say one o’clock at my house?” Jane rattled off her address.

  “I can’t wait,” I said.

  Chapter 20

  “Mom,” I called out as I ran through the front door of Gone with the Whiskey. “Do you and Tillie have your laptops handy?”

  “Sure do,” Mom said.

  I gave Duke a quick scratch before plopping down on a barstool next to Mom and Tillie. “I need you to power them up. I think I’m on to something!”

  “It’s nice to see you in before you’re actually scheduled,” Gramps said dryly as he glanced up at the John Wayne clock on the wall. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Ha ha.” I looked around. “Where’s Andrew?”

  “He and Trevor are putting the finishing touches on the half bath in the carriage house,” Mom said.

  “Got mine,” Tillie said as she hurried back to her barstool. “What’re we doing?”

  “Let me text Jax real quick.” I pulled out my phone and sent Jax a quick text asking her to meet me at twelve-thirty at the bar because I had a break in the case. “Gramps, can I have a ginger ale, please?”

  “Coming up.”

  A few seconds later I received Jax’s simple one-word answer of ‘yep.’ That’s what I loved about Jax, she was in and didn’t need a lot of explanation.

  “Mom, I want you and Tillie to Google search rare book thefts or stolen books in San Mateo, San Francisco, Marin, Sonoma, Napa, Lake, Mendocino, and Solano counties.”

  “That’s a lot of counties,” Mom said.

  I laughed. “I know. Split them up, and basically I’m just looking for articles about stolen rare books.”

  “What’re you thinking?” Gramps asked.

  “I honestly don’t know if I’m on to anything right now,” I said. “I’ll know more when I come back from Jane Forsythe’s house this afternoon.”

  Gramps frowned. “The librarian? Is she involved with David Saddler’s murder?”

  “Again, I don’t know. I think so. Maybe.” I laughed uncertainly.

  “And you think going to her house alone is the right move?” Gramps demanded. “No way.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going alone! I’m taking Jax with me.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” Gramps said dryly.

  The front door burst open, and Jax—apron around her waist and flour on her face—bolted inside. “There’s a lull. I have about ten minutes. What’s up?”

  I waved her over, out of earshot from the other customers. “Okay, let me lay it out for you guys.”

  Gramps, Jax, Mom, and Tillie huddled together around the bar as I explained my theory. “So yesterday when I went to question the librarian, Jane Forsythe, about David and his demeanor the last couple days before his death, we did a little small talk. I asked her how it was she came to be the head librarian, and she told me a friend of hers told her about it.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the name Mike said this morning?” Mom asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. She said her good friend, Edwardo Brittolli, told her about the job. No big deal…or so I thought. Then I see Jane has this signed first edition of Stephen King’s Misery on a shelf behind her desk. I’m no expert, but I’m sure it would go for like close to two thousand dollars at auction. Then she brags and tells me she has more at her house. She’s always been a collector.”

  Tillie frowned. “So you’re thinking this Jane is stealing books from the library here in town?”

  “Not the library.” I held up my hand. “Hear me out. We know David did two weeks community service at the library. We know from all accounts he enjoyed his time, and even intimated or had others thinking he might try to get a job at the library because he enjoyed it so much. He calls someone two nights before he dies and says he wants in on the next job. We just assumed it had to do with the Blevins shop and illegal activities. We also know Edwardo told Jane about the library job, and that Edwardo and Melvin Blevins were cellmates at one time. I don’t know what Edwardo got busted for, but we know Melvin has served time at least twice for burglary.”

  Gramps frowned. “You’re thinking Jane Forsythe, Edwardo Brittolli, and Melvin Blevins are involved in stealing rare books and David found out?”

  I nodded, feeling my excitement growing. “Yes. I know it seems scattered, and all the pieces aren’t fitting together perfectly, but I really think there might be something here.”

  “Seems plausible,” Jax said. “But I still think the motive for Logan or his family to kill David might be stronger.”

  “L
et’s say you’re eighty percent right about some of your speculation,” Gramps said. “Tell me again how this relates to David’s death?”

  Closing my eyes, I thought about everything I knew. “What if David saw something or overheard something while he was doing his community service at the library? We just assumed the job he wanted in on was the chop shop stuff. What if it wasn’t? What if he wanted in on the—I don’t know, Black Market book ring?” I laughed. “Is that even a thing?”

  “And when David pressured Jane Forsythe to let him in,” Gramps said, “you think Jane had Melvin kill David?”

  “Yeah. Maybe?” I blew out a breath. “Like I said, it’s not a complete puzzle yet.”

  “But why our house?” Jax said. “Why not just bury him out there on their own property? Why shove his body into a chest? And how would Melvin have known about the house?”

  “Work in progress,” I reminded her. “I’m still muddling through.”

  “Maybe that’s where Logan comes in?” Gramps surmised.

  “Yeah!” I exclaimed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it! That age group has already admitted to partying out there because they knew the house was empty for the most part.”

  “So that night, after Logan got back from driving the car over to Marin County,” Mom said, “he and his grandfather drove the chest with David’s body inside, broke into the carriage house, and walled him up.”

  “That’s really sad,” Jax said.

  “Which is how the tarp ends up in the chest,” I said. “Not sure yet about the lye. Do auto shops use lye?”

  Gramps frowned. “I don’t think so, but I can’t say for sure.”

  “You realize this means Logan knew all along what happened to David,” Jax said, “and he never once in three years said anything to anyone.”

  Tillie shook her head. “That poor Saddler boy. I mean, by all accounts he seemed to want to do the right thing by marrying the girl he loved and starting a whole new life and family with her…but he got blinded by the quick fix and instant riches scheme. And now he’s dead and will never know his daughter.”

  “Every choice has consequences, whether good or bad,” Gramps said.

  I snorted. “Is that a John Wayne quote?”

  Gramps thumped me on the head. “It’s a Colonel John Flynn quote. Remember it!”

  “So what does all this have to do with us going somewhere at twelve-thirty?” Jax asked. “Why not just tell Mike what you think happened and be done with it?”

  “Two reasons,” I said. “One, I may have no idea what I’m talking about.” I ignored Gramps’ chuckle. “And two, we have no proof. If Mom and Tillie find something about stolen books, or maybe the rare books we see in Jane’s house today will prove she’s a thief, then I promise I’ll tell Mike. Right now, he’s busy busting up the chop shop ring and trying to identify the dead body at the quarry. The last thing he’s going to do is listen to my crazy book theory.”

  “I can go with you,” Gramps said. “Keep you girls safe.”

  Blinking back tears, I laid my hand on his arm. “We aren’t going to do anything stupid. I promise. I’m just going to go look at Jane’s books from one book lover to another. I’m not going to make any grand statements, accuse her of anything. Nothing. I promise. I’m totally going to let Mike handle it if I see anything that proves my theory.”

  “And I’ll be with her,” Jax said. “Along with a few weapons for backup.”

  “You just got out of the hospital from a stab wound two weeks ago,” Gramps growled. “Need I remind you?”

  “You don’t,” Jax said solemnly. “I’m still having nightmares and trouble sleeping.”

  Mom wrapped her arms around Jax, and I wiped at the tears in my eyes. It was still too raw and painful to think about the night we found Jax lying on the ground and bleeding.

  “We’ll be careful,” I promised. “No heroics.”

  Chapter 21

  At twelve-thirty sharp, Jax strolled back into Gone with the Whiskey.

  “Let me finish serving these drinks,” I said, “then we can go.”

  “No hurry,” Jax said. “Rosalee is working out better than I ever dreamed. Not only did she finish the Weinstein baby shower cake today, but she’s now baking a practice batch of the toffee cookies I’m debuting next week for Thanksgiving. So things are more than covered on my end.”

  “You want something to drink?” Gramps asked.

  “How about a club soda,” Jax said.

  As Gramps poured Jax her drink, I delivered a Catcher on the Whiskey Rye and a Turn of the Screwdriver to two customers reading by the windows. Setting my tray on the counter, I reached in and grabbed my vibrating phone.

  “It’s a text from Mike,” I said. “He says they’ve already been able to match certain parts from serial numbers to stolen cars. They’ve arrested the owner, Earl, and have all other employees detained for questioning.”

  “So that means Melvin is at the station,” Jax said. “He won’t be bothering us.”

  “Same with Logan,” I said.

  Jax set her club soda down on the counter. “Looks like we’re pretty clear when we go to the librarian’s house to look at her books.”

  “In and out, girls,” Gramps said.

  “Understood,” we said in unison.

  “What are you carrying?” Gramps asked.

  “I have my stun gun,” Jax said.

  “I have my charm and wit,” I joked.

  “Not good enough,” Gramps deadpanned.

  I snorted. “Fine. I’ll bring my pepper spray.”

  “I wish there was a way for you to bring Duke,” Gramps mused.

  Ruff! Ruff!

  I snorted. “Prim and proper Jane Forsythe doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would allow a dog in her house.”

  “I suppose not,” Gramps conceded.

  “Tillie and I found two articles of stolen rare books in the last ten years,” Mom said.

  “One was seven years ago in Contra Costa County,” Tillie supplied, “and the other was three years ago in Marin County.”

  I whistled. “Three years ago? I wonder if that’s the job David wanted in on?”

  “I’m going to say yes,” Mom said softly. “According to the article, the robbery took place about two and a half weeks after David disappeared.”

  Gramps cursed. “That foolish boy.”

  “That’s a pretty solid connection,” I said. “Circumstantial, but it’s a connection.”

  “There was another robbery about fifteen years ago in San Mateo County,” Mom said.

  My phone buzzed again, and I quickly scanned the message. “Mike says they’re getting ready to question Earl about David’s murder and how it ties in with the chop shop and David demanding to be let in on the side business.” I sighed. “Time for us to prove otherwise.”

  “Be careful,” Mom and Tillie both said.

  Gramps took a sip of his Duke bourbon. “Call if you need me.”

  Ruff! Ruff!

  “Call if you need us,” Gramps amended, giving Duke a wink.

  It only took five minutes to get to Jane’s house. She was located one street off the main drag, in the historic homes section of Traveler’s Bay...a pretty exclusive area. The homes were mostly Gingerbread Victorian, but there were also influences of Queen Anne, American Foursquare, and Spanish homes too.

  Pulling up in front of the address, I gave a low whistle. “This is swank. Especially on a librarian’s salary.”

  “It’s exactly what I picture a spinster librarian living in,” Jax giggled.

  The massive house was a pale, soft pink with overwhelming white gingerbread trim. Pink rose bushes lined the walkway, and even the rocking chairs on her porch were white with pink and white checkered cushions.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” I said. “I’m ready to know one way or the other what happened to David. This boy needs to be put to rest so those who loved him can grieve.”

  Jax clasped her
hand in mine. “Then let’s do that for him.”

  We walked hand-in-hand up the sidewalk and were about to walk up the front porch steps when Jax’s cell phone rang.

  “It’s Trevor,” she said. “Let me get this real quick. Go on and ring the bell, I’ll be just a minute.”

  Jax walked back toward the Rubicon, talking excitedly on her phone. I rang the doorbell and waited just a few seconds before I heard footsteps.

  Jane Forsythe answered the door in a long pink and white apron. “I just pulled the cookies out of the oven.” She smiled and ushered me in. “I could have sworn I saw someone else with you.”

  I blinked in surprise. What had she been doing, spying out her window? “I brought my sister, Jax, with me. But her fiancé called, so she’s on the phone with him. She should be done in a minute.”

  The inside of the Victorian was about as scary as the outside. From the foyer, I could make out a garish pink and white flowered wallpapered parlor on the left, a mauve and white striped living area on the right, and straight ahead and to the right of the staircase was a narrow hallway that led to what I assumed was the kitchen. I could just make out a row of pink cabinets on the wall.

  Jane pursed her lips together in a look I’d become familiar with over the last few days. She was annoyed, but didn’t press the issue. “Let’s go into the parlor. I have a spot of tea already set out. It’s a lovely chamomile and lavender. I have the books in there, also.”

  “Maybe we should wait for Jax?” I suggested.

  I didn’t want to admit I was a little uneasy at the thought of being alone with Jane inside her Pepto-Bismol house…but I was. Jax was way more girlie-girl than me, so she’d probably appreciate the pink on top of pink on top of more pink…but I wasn’t a lover.

  “I don’t have all day,” Jane snapped. “I am showing you these books out of the goodness of my heart. The least you can do is comply.”

  Okay, lady, you just lost your spot on my Christmas card list this year.

  I followed her into the wallpapered room and sat down gingerly on the tiny settee. I half expected it to crumble under my weight. I breathed a sigh of relief when the doorbell rang.