She reached over and turned the light off. Maybe someone would notice that!
Of course, now she was going to have to sit here in the dark. Her nap had left her wide-awake, and there was certainly a fair amount of reading material around. She turned the light back on and put out her hand for a book. She might as well get educated. Or maybe not, she reconsidered, spying a new mystery novel that she had been anxious to read.
Charles Grace’s office must be very soundproof, she later decided. Or else she would have heard the car drive up and Brett Fortesque enter the library. She did hear the key turn in the lock, and, hurrying over to look down the stairway, Susan saw the door open, revealing the chief of police.
“Brett! Someone locked me in! I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. And why,” she added a bit more soberly, “why are you pointing a gun at me?”
“I didn’t know who you were. Didn’t it ever occur to you to wonder who was on the other side of that door? Two men were murdered, and you were mugged, after all.…”
“I didn’t think,” Susan admitted slowly.
“Well, you were smart to turn the light on and off as a sign that you were up here,” he consoled her.
Susan opened her mouth and then shut it again. Why admit it was a happy accident that he had spied her indecision? “I’d like to get home” was all she said.
“Good idea …”
“Did Jed call to tell you that I was missing?”
“Not that I know of—and I think I would have heard about it.”
“That’s funny. Kathleen should have been worried about me, too. I was going to call her after I got home.”
“Maybe she just thought you were too tired.”
“No, it was important. She should have known that I would call.”
“Of course, you couldn’t call from here.”
“How did you know that?” Susan asked, surprised.
“The line was cut outside. I noticed it when I came in—it wasn’t hard to see; the raw end is hanging down over the front door. Let me look around for a few minutes before I get you home,” he suggested.
“Fine. You don’t mind if I use the ladies’ room while you look, do you?”
He chuckled. “Not at all. I have some questions to ask you, too. Like why you didn’t yell that you were locked in while there were people still in the building?”
Susan hurried toward the rest rooms. “I fell asleep,” she called back over her shoulder, thinking that she heard him chuckle again at her answer.
When Susan returned to the office, she discovered Brett standing in the middle of the small room, staring into the distance.
He turned as she reached the top of the steps. “Why were you up here?”
“I was waiting to speak with Charles Grace.”
“This is his office?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. Why did you want to talk with him so late at night?”
“There was a speaker this evening—one of the library’s regularly scheduled programs—and I thought it might be a good time to see him. That’s why Kathleen and I left right after dinner.”
“About the murder? You wanted to ask him questions about the murder?”
“And the dirty books and the stolen books.”
“What stolen books?”
“Actually that just came up tonight,” Susan said, and then explained about her conversation with Marion a few hours ago.
“And you think all this is connected in some way?”
“I don’t know what to think. I only know that a man was killed here yesterday, a homeless man who spends most of his days here confessed to the crime, and a group of senior citizens is upset because they see this place as a hotbed of pornography. The only thing going on here that seems natural is the stolen books—libraries always have problems with stolen books. Now someone locks me in the bell tower and cuts the phone wires! You think I’m getting overexcited by connecting all this to the library?”
“Not at all. I think speaking with Mr. Grace is an excellent idea—and it should be done immediately.”
“Good. But I should let my family know I’m okay first.”
Brett gave her a stern look. “I was planning on dropping you off at home before going to find Mr. Grace.”
“Oh, Brett, you can’t! After all, I was the one locked up here all this time.”
“And that means you can ask him questions that I can’t?”
“Brett, please. You asked me to help you solve these murders. Can’t I at least …” She thought quickly. “Can’t I sit in on you questioning someone—I know I’d learn a lot and …”
“Look, you can come with me. You can even ask questions. Just don’t try to convince me that you’re hanging on to my every word. I know you better than that.”
Susan smiled, satisfied. “So let’s find a phone, and I’ll give Jed a call.”
“Why don’t we just stop at your house? It’s on the way to Grace’s house.”
“You know where he lives!”
“Sure …”
“You think he’s the murderer, and you’ve been having him watched!”
“I drove around late last night and checked out the addresses of everyone involved in the case. I’m new here, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by not knowing my way around, Susan.”
“Do you … ?”
“I’ve listened to you. I’ve listened to Chad. I’ve listened to about thirty people who were at the library on Halloween. And I still have no idea who the murderer is—unless we decide to accept John Doe’s confession.”
“But …”
“I didn’t say we were going to accept it; I just said that it was a possibility,” Brett reminded her. “You sure have a lot of energy. I guess that nap you took helped.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“I’ve felt better,” he admitted. “Let’s head for your house, and you can make coffee while I spend some time on your phone.”
“Great.” Susan grabbed her sweater off the chair. “You know,” she added, looking at the coat underneath, “it’s a little strange that Charles Grace didn’t wear his coat home in this cold weather, isn’t it?”
“Maybe that’s the first thing we should ask him. Let’s get going. I’m beginning to wonder exactly why no one in your family noticed that you were missing.”
Susan followed him down the stairs and out of the building, pausing only while he locked all the doors behind them. “Do you think it will take a long time for the phone lines to be reconnected?”
Brett opened the door to his patrol car for her while answering. “I’m going to call one of my men to look at it before there’s any fixing done. After that, it depends on the phone company.” He got in and started the car.
“They’ll probably be able to make calls by Christmas, don’t you think?” Susan asked.
“If they’re lucky.”
Brett used his two-way radio to check in with the station, sending orders for men to go to the library and photograph the phone line as well as check the grounds. “Not that I know what they’re to look for—or what they might find—but you never know,” he added to Susan after he had finished his business. “Now we’ll go to your house.”
“And get you that coffee,” she suggested.
“I need it,” he agreed, pulling into the drive.
The house was dark, and Susan wondered again at her family’s acceptance of her absence. Where did they think she had been? She pulled keys from her purse and opened the front door. Why had no one left the hall light on? Weren’t they expecting her to return before daylight? “You don’t mind calling from the kitchen, do you? I can make the coffee there, and then I’d like to go upstairs and let Jed know that I’m home.”
“Why don’t you go on up? I can make myself coffee while I call. Go ahead,” he urged when she didn’t move. “I’m not completely helpless in the kitchen, you know.”
Susan left him and headed toward her bedroom. She had not
iced that the door to Jed’s study was closed and assumed that Hilda Flambay was still in residence. So Rebecca was probably still here, too. She walked slowly up the stairs, glancing into the living room. Luckily tomorrow was her cleaning woman’s regular day. She walked down the hall to her bedroom. The light by Jed’s side of the bed was on, and the television in the corner was trying to sell sunglasses to her sleeping husband.
She smiled and walked across the room to turn off the TV.
“Wha—?”
“Jed, it’s only me.” Susan hurried to his side. “You fell asleep watching TV. I was just turning it off. It’s almost two a.m.”
Jed was beginning to wake up. He rolled over on his side and propped himself up on one elbow. “I’m glad you’re home. I was worried about you. You must be exhausted.”
“I am, but Brett and I have something to do.…”
That woke him up. “Susan, doesn’t that man realize that you have a family to care for and a life besides investigating murders?”
“You know, Brett did rescue me tonight. If he hadn’t seen the light and checked out the tower, I might still be locked in the library.”
“What?” Jed rubbed his eyes and brushed his hair off his forehead.
“Why didn’t you worry when I didn’t come home?” Susan asked, irritated that he could be so casual about a missing wife, especially when the missing wife was his.
“Worry about you? Why should I worry about you? Kathleen called and said you and our illustrious new police chief were out investigating or something. Why should I worry? You had police protection, didn’t you?”
“Kathleen called and said what? Wait a second,” she added, lowering her voice. After all, her children were asleep right across the hall. “Why don’t you tell me this story right from the beginning?”
“It isn’t a story, and there really isn’t much to tell. Kathleen called tonight and said that you were out with Brett Fortesque and would be home very late, so I should go ahead and go to sleep. I did plan on waiting up for you, but …”
“I don’t understand. Didn’t you ask her any questions? Weren’t you curious about what I was doing?”
“Yes, I was curious. But I didn’t talk to her. Hilda took the call and relayed the message. I …”
“Someone locked me in the library tower tonight and cut the phone lines.”
“I really wanted to wait up for you and find out what—You were what?” Jed sat up and grabbed his wife. “Exactly what happened to you?”
“I’m okay. No one hurt me. I fell asleep, and someone locked me in the library tower. Look, Brett is making coffee downstairs. Do you mind if I go down and have a cup, and you can tell me what happened here and I’ll tell you what happened there?”
“Sure. Let me get a robe. But should you be drinking coffee? Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?” he asked, getting up.
Susan handed him a large green terry-cloth robe. “We’re going to find Charles Grace. Then, I promise, I’ll come home and go to sleep. I’m exhausted, but Brett thinks we should talk with him tonight. After all, I was going to meet him in his office when I got locked in. If he had been there like he was supposed to, none of this would have happened.”
“I think I’ll have some coffee, too, and then maybe you’d better start from the beginning.”
They headed to the kitchen together.
“I didn’t know which mugs you would want me to use, but these were in the sink, so I just washed them out,” Brett explained, handing Susan a steaming cup.
“The place is kind of messy,” Jed admitted. “I tried to clean after dinner, but Rebecca was making tea late and Hilda …”
“Don’t worry about it,” Susan insisted, sitting down at the table and flicking some crumbs onto the floor. “Brett, Jed says that Kathleen called tonight with some sort of story about you and me being out late investigating something. You didn’t tell her anything like that, did you?”
“Of course not. I haven’t spoken to her since I left here this evening, and I wouldn’t have said anything like that anyway.” He turned to Jed. “What exactly did she say?”
“I’m not sure. Hilda—the woman from the network who is staying here with Rebecca—took the call. I was helping Chad with his algebra up in his room, and I didn’t hear the phone ring. When I came downstairs, she said that Kathleen Gordon had called a few minutes ago with a message from Susan.…”
“What time was this?” Brett asked.
“About eleven, I’d guess.”
“Chad was working on algebra until eleven o’clock?” his mother asked.
“Yes. Seems that new teacher he has this year really has him worried.”
“She must,” Susan agreed.
“Could we get on with this?” Brett asked gently.
“Sorry. Well, by the time I got the message, I thought it was a little late to call Kathleen back, although I did think the explanation was kind of brief.
“According to Hilda, Kathleen said that Susan had tried to call here, but the line was busy, so she had called there and asked Kathleen to get a message through. And apparently the only message was that you and Susan had one more thing to investigate together and then Susan would be home.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all,” Jed insisted. “At least that’s all I got. Hilda is asleep, but maybe we could wake her and check.”
“Hilda is not asleep. Hilda has a very difficult time sleeping with this commotion going on.” Hilda Flambay stood in the doorway. A scarlet kimono covered her nightgown. Curlers stuck out of her hair. Gigantic green glasses were perched crookedly on her nose. “Is that decaf?”
“No, but there is some instant Sanka around here somewhere.”
“I’ll just have some seltzer.” She opened the refrigerator.
Well, she had told everyone to feel right at home, Susan reminded herself.
Brett had better things to worry about. “We were just talking about the call you got tonight.… The one from Kathleen Gordon. About Susan being out late.” He prodded her memory.
“Oh, it wasn’t all that big a deal.” She shrugged. “Did I get the message wrong?”
“You certainly got something wrong. My wife has been—” Jed began angrily.
“I think Kathleen may have made a mistake. We were just wondering if you could remember exactly what she said,” Susan interrupted. Hilda Flambay had no reason to know anything more.
“She said hello and that she had a message from you to Jed.…”
“I thought you said that she explained that Susan had been trying to get through, but the lines were busy so she had to call Kathleen’s house,” Jed reminded her.
“Oh, that’s right.” She smiled at Brett. “This has been a very tiring few days.”
“I’m sure it has.” He returned her smile.
Susan ground her teeth.
“Maybe if you explain right from the beginning,” Brett suggested.
“Okay.” In response to some female instinct, Hilda removed her curlers as she talked. “I picked up the phone. I was expecting a call from the city, so I assumed it was for me. But, needless to say, it wasn’t. There was a woman on the other end of the line. She said she was Kathleen Gordon and could I please give a message to Jed. Well, naturally, I agreed.…”
“She didn’t ask to speak to him?” Brett interrupted.
“No, she just wanted me to give him the message.” Curlers out, she fluffed up her bangs. “So, anyway, I said I would, and I got a pen and paper and wrote it down. All she said was that Susan was doing some late-night investigating with Brett Fortesque and that she would be home very late and no one should worry about her. That’s all. When you came downstairs, I relayed the message to you.”
“You didn’t call Kathleen back?” Brett asked Jed.
“Kathleen didn’t explain that I had stayed at the library and she had gone home without me?” Susan was completely puzzled.
“No. I assumed the message was real,” Jed exp
lained. “Besides, it was late. Kathleen and Jerry need their sleep. That little boy of theirs is a real handful.”
“There was nothing in the message about the library,” Hilda insisted. “Nothing.”
Susan and Brett looked at each other.
“It doesn’t make sense to me,” she said.
Brett reached for the phone. “What’s Kathleen’s number? I’m afraid we’re going to have to wake her up.”
“It’s on one of the auto-dial buttons. Gordon,” Susan elaborated.
Brett pressed the correct button. The phone was answered on the first ring. “Hello? Kathleen? It’s Brett Fortesque. I’m over at the Henshaws. Sorry to wake you up, but we have a problem here.… No, no. Everyone is fine. We’re just checking about that phone call you made here tonight.… The one from Susan … She didn’t? That’s very interesting. I’m sorry we bothered you.… Yes, she’s right here.” He handed the receiver to Susan.
“Hi, Kath—Yes … Well, it’s a long story, but I got locked in the library tower.… The phone cord was cut.… No, he never did, in fact.… Listen, give me a call early tomorrow, and I’ll tell you the whole story, okay? Bye.” She hung up and turned to Brett. “She got a call from someone who said they had a message from me.… She just passed it along.”
“So it was all a hoax,” Jed said. He put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “You might have been in serious danger, Sue.”
“I don’t think so. I fell asleep. Anyone could have snuck up behind me and hit me on the head or, I suppose, stuck another of those knives in me, but they didn’t.” She smiled at her husband. “I don’t think you have to worry.”
“I wonder if Kathleen can identify the voice,” Brett said slowly.
“We should have asked. I’d love to know who locked me in that tower.”
Hilda looked at Susan sharply. She had forgotten that this was the first time the network woman had heard the story.
Brett nodded. “It’s likely to be the same person who called. He or she didn’t want anyone to come looking for you.”
“Is there any way to track this down? Can we find out who called Kathleen?” Jed asked.
All Hallows Evil Page 18
