Double Booked for Death (28 page)
Read Double Booked for Death Online
Authors: Ali Brandon
“I dunno .
.
.
that’s up to Callie.”
.
.
that’s up to Callie.”
Callie met her mother’s questioning look and gave an eager nod.
Then, turning back to Darla, she exclaimed, “I took lots of pictures.
Do you want to look at all of them?”
Then, turning back to Darla, she exclaimed, “I took lots of pictures.
Do you want to look at all of them?”
“Of course, honey.”
Darla exchanged a pleased look with Jake.
“If you don’t mind, we can see them right now.”
Darla exchanged a pleased look with Jake.
“If you don’t mind, we can see them right now.”
The two women crowded around the girl as she dug her phone out of her backpack and once more brought up her pictures on the tiny screen.
The first couple of dozen had been taken outside the store before the autographing started.
It was all Darla could do to control her eagerness as the girl took her time, commenting on each picture.
From Jake’s expression, she could see her friend was equally impatient.
Finally, however, one image flashed on screen that Darla promptly recognized as taken inside the store.
The first couple of dozen had been taken outside the store before the autographing started.
It was all Darla could do to control her eagerness as the girl took her time, commenting on each picture.
From Jake’s expression, she could see her friend was equally impatient.
Finally, however, one image flashed on screen that Darla promptly recognized as taken inside the store.
“There’s that big bouncer guy,” Callie said, referring to a close-up of the back of Everest’s shaved head.
“He was kinda scary.
And this is the nice old lady at the cash register,” she went on, displaying a picture of Mary Ann holding a fistful of cash.
“He was kinda scary.
And this is the nice old lady at the cash register,” she went on, displaying a picture of Mary Ann holding a fistful of cash.
“Oh, and this is the one I took of Susanna’s butt,” she said with a giggle, though she promptly sobered when her mother shot her a disapproving look before she picked up her wicker shopping basket and went to the counter to pay.
“Guess I’d better delete that one.
Oops, and this one, too,” she added with a guilty look at Darla.
She hit “Erase” and “Yes,” but not before Darla glimpsed a blurry shot of her own hindquarters filling the screen.
Oops, and this one, too,” she added with a guilty look at Darla.
She hit “Erase” and “Yes,” but not before Darla glimpsed a blurry shot of her own hindquarters filling the screen.
Ignoring Jake’s snort of amusement, Darla wryly answered, “Yes, I don’t think we want that one for the memorial.
Do you have any pictures of Ms.
Baylor and her friends?”
Do you have any pictures of Ms.
Baylor and her friends?”
“Sure!”
Callie scrolled through a few more.
Now Jake was staring intently at the small images that flashed past.
She halted Callie when one picture popped up showing Mavis in the background walking up the stairs to the second floor.
The next picture captured only a glimpse of that same staircase, but Darla could make out a hooded, black-caped figure walking back down the steps again.
Now Jake was staring intently at the small images that flashed past.
She halted Callie when one picture popped up showing Mavis in the background walking up the stairs to the second floor.
The next picture captured only a glimpse of that same staircase, but Darla could make out a hooded, black-caped figure walking back down the steps again.
She and Jake exchanged glances.
Apparently, Lizzie had been truthful in her claim that she’d seen Mavis sneak upstairs and then come back down costumed like the rest of them.
Apparently, Lizzie had been truthful in her claim that she’d seen Mavis sneak upstairs and then come back down costumed like the rest of them.
“Wait,” Jake said as Callie flashed onto the next view.
“It looks like Valerie and Mavis and Hillary and Lizzie are all here in their capes.
Okay, go to the next one.”
“It looks like Valerie and Mavis and Hillary and Lizzie are all here in their capes.
Okay, go to the next one.”
The girl obliged.
This picture apparently was taken a few moments later, but the caped figures that were the focus of Jake’s scrutiny now were down to three.
From the small size and angle of the picture, Darla couldn’t tell which of the four was missing.
In the next shot, a second figure was gone .
.
.
and in the one after, a third was gone.
Once again, given the size and the angle, Darla couldn’t tell who remained in the scene.
Whether any or all of them had left out the back of the store was also impossible to say.
This picture apparently was taken a few moments later, but the caped figures that were the focus of Jake’s scrutiny now were down to three.
From the small size and angle of the picture, Darla couldn’t tell which of the four was missing.
In the next shot, a second figure was gone .
.
.
and in the one after, a third was gone.
Once again, given the size and the angle, Darla couldn’t tell who remained in the scene.
Whether any or all of them had left out the back of the store was also impossible to say.
“Hang on,” Jake repeated, her tone more urgent this time.
“Go back one picture, Callie.”
“Go back one picture, Callie.”
She studied the shot more closely, but Darla couldn’t tell what exactly had caught her attention.
Finally, Jake asked the girl, “Could you maybe email these last five pictures you showed us to Ms.
Pettistone?”
Finally, Jake asked the girl, “Could you maybe email these last five pictures you showed us to Ms.
Pettistone?”
“Okay,” Callie agreed while Darla dug into her pocket for a crumpled business card with her email address on it.
Fingers flying, the girl sent off each picture and then gazed up at Jake.
“You’re the lady who was out on the street with Mr.
Reese, weren’t you?”
Callie sighed.
“I wish you could have kept Ms.
Baylor from falling in front of that van.”
Fingers flying, the girl sent off each picture and then gazed up at Jake.
“You’re the lady who was out on the street with Mr.
Reese, weren’t you?”
Callie sighed.
“I wish you could have kept Ms.
Baylor from falling in front of that van.”
“Yeah, kid, me too,” Jake answered, her expression grim.
“Say, do you think I can get you to save all your pictures from inside the store for a while in case Mr.
Reese would like to see them?”
“Say, do you think I can get you to save all your pictures from inside the store for a while in case Mr.
Reese would like to see them?”
“Mr.
Reese is a policeman, isn’t he?”
Reese is a policeman, isn’t he?”
When Jake nodded, the girl gave her a narrow look from behind her glasses and declared, “I think something sneaky’s going on, and that’s why you wanted to see my pictures.
It’s not for the store.”
It’s not for the store.”
Then, before Jake could reply, Callie’s eyes widened in fear.
“Did someone hurt Ms.
Baylor on purpose?
Maybe there really is a Janitor in real life, and he got her.
Maybe he’s there in my pictures, too!”
“Did someone hurt Ms.
Baylor on purpose?
Maybe there really is a Janitor in real life, and he got her.
Maybe he’s there in my pictures, too!”
“No, no,” Darla hurried to reassure her as the girl stared at her phone in horror.
“Ms.
Jake used to be a police officer, so she likes to look for bad guys everywhere.
It’s like a hobby for her.
Don’t worry, the Janitor is only in the
Haunted High
books.
Besides,” she added with a comforting smile, “even if he were real, Mr.
Reese is still tough enough to beat him up.
You believe me, don’t you?”
“Ms.
Jake used to be a police officer, so she likes to look for bad guys everywhere.
It’s like a hobby for her.
Don’t worry, the Janitor is only in the
Haunted High
books.
Besides,” she added with a comforting smile, “even if he were real, Mr.
Reese is still tough enough to beat him up.
You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Callie’s tone was small and sounded unconvinced, but she managed a smile.
“I have to go now, okay?”
Callie’s tone was small and sounded unconvinced, but she managed a smile.
“I have to go now, okay?”
She didn’t wait for Darla’s answer but rushed over to the register where her mother was standing.
The woman gave Darla and Jake a friendly smile as she and Callie walked past.
“Nice meeting you ladies.
Say good-bye, Callie.”
The woman gave Darla and Jake a friendly smile as she and Callie walked past.
“Nice meeting you ladies.
Say good-bye, Callie.”
“Bye,” the girl obediently replied, though she clutched her mother’s arm and turned her face into her shoulder as they walked out the door.
“Score another one for our team,” Darla muttered, shaking her head as the door closed after the mother-daughter duo.
“Now the poor kid is going to need therapy.”
“Now the poor kid is going to need therapy.”
“She’ll be fine,” Jake absently replied, her gaze moving about the store.
Fixing on one of the displays, she added, “Why don’t you go on back to the store and download those pictures?
I want to pick up a couple of things here, first.”
Fixing on one of the displays, she added, “Why don’t you go on back to the store and download those pictures?
I want to pick up a couple of things here, first.”
“Sure,” Darla agreed, trying not to show her surprise.
Jake was the last one she’d expect to shop there among the frills and perfume.
Leaving her friend to browse, she headed back to the bookstore.
She found James busy helping two fashionably dressed older gentlemen who had brought to the register a small stack of travel essays and guides.
Jake was the last one she’d expect to shop there among the frills and perfume.
Leaving her friend to browse, she headed back to the bookstore.
She found James busy helping two fashionably dressed older gentlemen who had brought to the register a small stack of travel essays and guides.
“Enjoy your trip to Rome,” he said as he bagged the last volume.
“ And don’t forget to try that café near the Vatican that I told you about.”
“ And don’t forget to try that café near the Vatican that I told you about.”
“We’ll make sure to stop there,” the shorter of the two replied with a fond look at his mustachioed companion.
“We’ve been planning this trip for ages, and we intend to sightsee and eat ourselves into oblivion.”
“We’ve been planning this trip for ages, and we intend to sightsee and eat ourselves into oblivion.”
Darla waited until the smiling pair had left before addressing James.
“Sorry to leave you like that,” she said.
“Jake was following up on a lead.”
“Sorry to leave you like that,” she said.
“Jake was following up on a lead.”
“You mean regarding Ms.
Baylor’s unfortunate demise?”
Baylor’s unfortunate demise?”
“Well, yes.”
She’d kept her conversations with Jake and Reese confidential, but it occurred to her that James might also have some insight into the matter.
“You know those pictures you printed for me?
I don’t suppose you took any others once the autographing started, did you?”
“You know those pictures you printed for me?
I don’t suppose you took any others once the autographing started, did you?”
“Unfortunately, no.
I was busier than the proverbial lower-extremity amputee participating in a posterior-kicking competition.”
I was busier than the proverbial lower-extremity amputee participating in a posterior-kicking competition.”
He paused and gave Darla a keen look.
“You and Ms.
Martelli have been carrying on about something for the past week.
Should I assume that there is more to the accident than we have been told?”
“You and Ms.
Martelli have been carrying on about something for the past week.
Should I assume that there is more to the accident than we have been told?”
“I think that’s the problem, James.
We’re not certain it was an accident.”
We’re not certain it was an accident.”
She hesitated.
Surely there was no reason she couldn’t let him in on their suspicions.
James had been there that night and had the same passing acquaintance with all the major players she did—more, in some cases, like Lizzie.
Surely there was no reason she couldn’t let him in on their suspicions.
James had been there that night and had the same passing acquaintance with all the major players she did—more, in some cases, like Lizzie.
She gave him a brief recap of what little they’d gleaned.
Then, casually, she asked, “By the way, did you notice anything unusual about Valerie’s makeup artist, Mavis, the night of the signing?”
Then, casually, she asked, “By the way, did you notice anything unusual about Valerie’s makeup artist, Mavis, the night of the signing?”
“You mean other than the fact that
she
was a
he
?
Though, in fairness, he did carry off the masquerade rather well, do you not agree?”
she
was a
he
?
Though, in fairness, he did carry off the masquerade rather well, do you not agree?”
Darla looked at him in surprise, even as she reminded herself that very little got past the former professor.
James, meanwhile, frowned as he considered the matter.
James, meanwhile, frowned as he considered the matter.
“Mavis and Ms.
Baylor did exchange a few confidences during the event,” he finally said, “but nothing about their conversation appeared alarming.
Should I assume that this makeup artist might be under suspicion?”
Baylor did exchange a few confidences during the event,” he finally said, “but nothing about their conversation appeared alarming.
Should I assume that this makeup artist might be under suspicion?”
“I’m not sure ‘suspicion’ is the right word,” she conceded, “but remember how you printed off those pictures for me to give to Valerie’s brother, Morris?
It happens that Valerie and Morris were fraternal twins.
And it turns out Morris has an even closer relationship to Mavis than that.”
It happens that Valerie and Morris were fraternal twins.
And it turns out Morris has an even closer relationship to Mavis than that.”
She gave James a significant look, waiting for him to pick up the hint.
When he merely looked at her expectantly, she clarified, “Morris and Mavis are one and the same.”
When he merely looked at her expectantly, she clarified, “Morris and Mavis are one and the same.”
“Indeed?”
James raised both brows.
“I must admit, I was not expecting that.
Intriguing family dynamic.”
James raised both brows.
“I must admit, I was not expecting that.
Intriguing family dynamic.”
Before Darla could continue her story, one of their regulars walked in to pick up a special order.
Leaving further conversation for later, she left James to wait on the woman and went to the computer to check her email.
Leaving further conversation for later, she left James to wait on the woman and went to the computer to check her email.
Along with the usual store-related correspondence and a few personal messages, she found the pictures from Callie.
She immediately saved them to the hard drive and was in the process of pulling up the first when she heard the door jingle again.
She immediately saved them to the hard drive and was in the process of pulling up the first when she heard the door jingle again.
Jake entered, carrying a tiny, pink-lace printed bag that starkly contrasted with her uniform of boots, black jeans, and black sweater.
She seemed unaware of the incongruity, however, as she hurried over to join Darla at the computer.
She seemed unaware of the incongruity, however, as she hurried over to join Darla at the computer.
“Did you get the photos?”
“Yep.
Just looking at them now.”
Just looking at them now.”
On a full-sized monitor, the figures were grainy, but far easier to distinguish.
Even better, Callie had had a surprisingly clear view of the action from her vantage point, which included the autographing table and the back door leading to the courtyard.
Even better, Callie had had a surprisingly clear view of the action from her vantage point, which included the autographing table and the back door leading to the courtyard.
In the first photo, Valerie was seated at the table, visible behind a line of fans wearing similar capes to hers.
Her own hood, however, was draped over her shoulders, her dark hair spilling in a heavy waterfall down her back.
The figure directly behind her appeared to be Lizzie, for a bit of brown bob peeked out one edge of her hood.
Hillary stood to one side, distinguished by the glint of her glasses.
The fourth figure had to be Mavis, though the hood made it difficult to tell for certain.
Her own hood, however, was draped over her shoulders, her dark hair spilling in a heavy waterfall down her back.
The figure directly behind her appeared to be Lizzie, for a bit of brown bob peeked out one edge of her hood.
Hillary stood to one side, distinguished by the glint of her glasses.
The fourth figure had to be Mavis, though the hood made it difficult to tell for certain.
Scrolling through the series a second time, Darla was now able to pick out who was missing from each subsequent shot.
First, Valerie vanished, then Lizzie.
In the third shot, Hillary was gone, presumably leaving only Mavis remaining.
But it was the fourth shot that held Jake’s attention.
First, Valerie vanished, then Lizzie.
In the third shot, Hillary was gone, presumably leaving only Mavis remaining.
But it was the fourth shot that held Jake’s attention.
“Zoom in,” she commanded.
“Now, scroll over to the right.
Okay, zoom again.
Again.
To the right again, and zoom one more time.”
“Now, scroll over to the right.
Okay, zoom again.
Again.
To the right again, and zoom one more time.”
What filled the screen now was a blur of black, the images so pixilated that the details were fuzzy.
But Jake was smiling in satisfaction.
But Jake was smiling in satisfaction.
“Look,” she said and pointed to what appeared to be Mavis moving toward the back of the store.
“See his—her—hand?
She’s holding something white with streaks of red on it.
Morris has the lipstick note.”
“See his—her—hand?
She’s holding something white with streaks of red on it.
Morris has the lipstick note.”
TWENTY-TWO
DARLA STARED AT THE INCRIMINATING SHOT FOR A LONG moment and then met Jake’s triumphant gaze.
“It does look like the note,” she agreed, “but that still doesn’t tell us if Mavis—or, rather, Morris—only received it, or if he was the one who wrote it.
And there’s something else.”
“It does look like the note,” she agreed, “but that still doesn’t tell us if Mavis—or, rather, Morris—only received it, or if he was the one who wrote it.
And there’s something else.”
She reached under the register for her purse.
Just as with the lipstick letter, she had thought that Reese might confiscate Morris’s business card as possible evidence, so she had scanned it and stuck the copy into her purse for safekeeping.
Now, she retrieved that folded page and set it on the counter, and then pulled out one of the autographed copies of
Ghost of a Chance
she’d hidden away.
Setting the book beside the note, she flipped it open to the title page where Valerie Baylor had signed it.
Just as with the lipstick letter, she had thought that Reese might confiscate Morris’s business card as possible evidence, so she had scanned it and stuck the copy into her purse for safekeeping.
Now, she retrieved that folded page and set it on the counter, and then pulled out one of the autographed copies of
Ghost of a Chance
she’d hidden away.
Setting the book beside the note, she flipped it open to the title page where Valerie Baylor had signed it.
“I thought about this when Morris pointed out that it was hard to match lipstick to ink.
We all agreed that the lipstick writing looks a lot like the writing on the back of Morris’s business card .
.
.
but doesn’t it look a lot like Valerie’s handwriting, too?”
We all agreed that the lipstick writing looks a lot like the writing on the back of Morris’s business card .
.
.
but doesn’t it look a lot like Valerie’s handwriting, too?”
Jake took a look at the similar sharp pen strokes and then muttered a choice expletive.
“I see your point,” she conceded.
“I see your point,” she conceded.
Feeling a bit odd to suddenly be arguing the opposite point, Darla went on, “And aren’t we forgetting that little thing called a motive?
Why would he kill his own sister?”
Why would he kill his own sister?”
“Sibling rivalry .
.
.
he got tired of her snide comments .
.
.
she threatened to reveal his secret hobby of cross-dressing,” Jake said, ticking off the possibilities on one hand .
.
.
the same possibilities that previously had occurred to Darla.
“Maybe Valerie did something that finally sent him over the edge after years of putting up with her bull, and he snapped.”
.
.
he got tired of her snide comments .
.
.
she threatened to reveal his secret hobby of cross-dressing,” Jake said, ticking off the possibilities on one hand .
.
.
the same possibilities that previously had occurred to Darla.
“Maybe Valerie did something that finally sent him over the edge after years of putting up with her bull, and he snapped.”
“Ahem.”
The sound made them both jump.
James had come up behind them and now stood there shaking his head.
James had come up behind them and now stood there shaking his head.
“Really, Jake, I realize you are bored with your forced retirement, but you should know better than to jump on Darla’s bandwagon and try to make a murder out of a molehill,” he said, his expression disapproving.
When Jake opened her mouth to protest, he raised a silencing hand and went on, “And both of you should keep in mind that your would-be suspect and his supposed victim were fraternal twins.
I have done a bit of research into the psychology of siblings, and I can assure you it would be almost unheard of for one twin to deliberately kill the other.
The symbiotic relationship between fraternals is almost as close as that of identical twins.
When one of the pair dies, the other is left feeling half a person.
Indeed, the research on surviving twins and their stages of grief makes for interesting—”
I have done a bit of research into the psychology of siblings, and I can assure you it would be almost unheard of for one twin to deliberately kill the other.
The symbiotic relationship between fraternals is almost as close as that of identical twins.
When one of the pair dies, the other is left feeling half a person.
Indeed, the research on surviving twins and their stages of grief makes for interesting—”
“Thanks, cowboy.”
Jake cut him short with a sour look.
“Here, I had just joined Team Darla, and now you’re shooting holes in my theory.”
Jake cut him short with a sour look.
“Here, I had just joined Team Darla, and now you’re shooting holes in my theory.”
James raised a brow and, indulging in a rare bit of whimsy, blew imaginary gun smoke from his finger pistols a la Ted the security guy.
“Call me Sheriff James.
But now, if you will excuse me, I have a few special orders to finish up before day’s end.”
But now, if you will excuse me, I have a few special orders to finish up before day’s end.”
He left the two of them staring at the picture on the monitor.
Darla was the first to break their mutual silence.
Darla was the first to break their mutual silence.
“We might be trying too hard, but to quote Callie, I still think there’s something sneaky going on with Morris,” she said in a determined tone.
Jake shrugged.
“Yeah, but much as it pains me to admit it, James is right.
Sneaky doesn’t equal motive or evidence.”
“Yeah, but much as it pains me to admit it, James is right.
Sneaky doesn’t equal motive or evidence.”
“So what you’re really saying is that we’ve hit a dead end.”
“No, I’m saying that we need to step back and see if we’ve missed anything.
Because Professor James
was
wrong about one thing: swapping theories with you has nothing to do with me being bored.”
Because Professor James
was
wrong about one thing: swapping theories with you has nothing to do with me being bored.”
Jake’s tone took on a hard edge.
“No matter how it happened, your author ended up dead on my watch.
If Valerie was deliberately pushed, no way am I letting the person responsible get away with it.
Even bitches deserve justice.”
“No matter how it happened, your author ended up dead on my watch.
If Valerie was deliberately pushed, no way am I letting the person responsible get away with it.
Even bitches deserve justice.”
“Sounds like a T-shirt slogan,” was Darla’s wry reply.
Before Jake could comment, her cell phone went off, the ring tone sounding suspiciously to Darla like the first notes of that old Bee Gee’s song from
Saturday Night Fever
.
She wasn’t too surprised when the other woman announced, “It’s Reese,” before taking the call.
Saturday Night Fever
.
She wasn’t too surprised when the other woman announced, “It’s Reese,” before taking the call.
Jake’s end of the conversation was maddeningly cryptic.
Certain it had to do with the Valerie Baylor situation, Darla waited impatiently for her to hang up and share whatever news she’d learned from the detective.
Certain it had to do with the Valerie Baylor situation, Darla waited impatiently for her to hang up and share whatever news she’d learned from the detective.
Jake, however, wasn’t doing any sharing.
“Sorry, kid, I need to help Reese out with something,” she said as she ended the call.
Heading toward the door, she called back over her shoulder, “Do me a favor and forward me those pictures when you get a chance, okay?”
Heading toward the door, she called back over her shoulder, “Do me a favor and forward me those pictures when you get a chance, okay?”
“Sure,” she agreed, trying not to let curiosity consume her over whatever “something” it was that Reese needed.
She’d simply have to go on the assumption that, if she needed to know, Jake would make sure that she did.
She’d simply have to go on the assumption that, if she needed to know, Jake would make sure that she did.
James was taking care of the customer who’d just stopped in, so Darla took the opportunity to scan through the photos one more time before sending them to Jake’s email address.
The photo she kept returning to was the one where the four caped figures stood in close proximity to each other.
It was interesting, she thought, how such a simple garment gave such anonymity to such a varied group.
Even knowing who they were, she had to look closely to distinguish them from each other—all of which demonstrated that a disguise didn’t need to be elaborate to be effective.
Hadn’t the Scarf Lady who’d hired Janie made do with only a pair of oversized sunglasses and a length of cloth around her head, when even Callie had recognized Morris underneath the elaborate masquerade that was Mavis?
It was interesting, she thought, how such a simple garment gave such anonymity to such a varied group.
Even knowing who they were, she had to look closely to distinguish them from each other—all of which demonstrated that a disguise didn’t need to be elaborate to be effective.
Hadn’t the Scarf Lady who’d hired Janie made do with only a pair of oversized sunglasses and a length of cloth around her head, when even Callie had recognized Morris underneath the elaborate masquerade that was Mavis?
Mavis!
A thought occurred to Darla as she stared again at the picture on the computer screen.
Had they overlooked another, perhaps even more obvious possibility?
Could Janie’s Scarf Lady actually have been Morris?
Had Valerie’s own brother planned an entire secret campaign against her .
.
.
which might or might not have culminated in his deliberately throwing her in front of the Lord’s Blessing Church’s van?
Had they overlooked another, perhaps even more obvious possibility?
Could Janie’s Scarf Lady actually have been Morris?
Had Valerie’s own brother planned an entire secret campaign against her .
.
.
which might or might not have culminated in his deliberately throwing her in front of the Lord’s Blessing Church’s van?
The more she thought about it, the more likely her theory seemed.
But given that she’d not been able to get any sort of admission from Morris regarding his Mavis alter ego, it seemed unlikely he would spontaneously confess to the Scarf Lady masquerade should she confront him with that accusation.
But perhaps she could try a more subtle tactic.
But given that she’d not been able to get any sort of admission from Morris regarding his Mavis alter ego, it seemed unlikely he would spontaneously confess to the Scarf Lady masquerade should she confront him with that accusation.
But perhaps she could try a more subtle tactic.
According to Reese, Janie’s contact with her mysterious employer had initially been via email.
Doubtless, whoever had contacted her would have used one of those free email address services to hide her—or his!—identity.
From what Reese had indicated, however, he’d passed on that address to the police department’s IT group, which could then backtrack it to its true owner.
But would the police even bother to pursue that lead now?
Doubtless, whoever had contacted her would have used one of those free email address services to hide her—or his!—identity.
From what Reese had indicated, however, he’d passed on that address to the police department’s IT group, which could then backtrack it to its true owner.
But would the police even bother to pursue that lead now?
Nothing was stopping her from doing a bit of cybersleuth-ing herself, she decided.
She gave a thoughtful frown.
A cleverly worded email to the Scarf Lady’s address might prompt its owner to inadvertently reveal his or her identity.
Unfortunately, she had no idea where Janie had sent her messages.
A cleverly worded email to the Scarf Lady’s address might prompt its owner to inadvertently reveal his or her identity.
Unfortunately, she had no idea where Janie had sent her messages.
She shut down the computer’s photo viewer and took another look at the page with Morris’s email address.
It was straightforward: [email protected].
No guesswork there, she wryly thought.
Had that been the address Janie supplied to Reese in her statement, Morris might well have been behind bars by now.
And since she doubted Reese would share what he likely considered to be confidential police information, what she needed was to find the ad that Janie had answered and get the poster’s email address that way.
It was straightforward: [email protected].
No guesswork there, she wryly thought.
Had that been the address Janie supplied to Reese in her statement, Morris might well have been behind bars by now.
And since she doubted Reese would share what he likely considered to be confidential police information, what she needed was to find the ad that Janie had answered and get the poster’s email address that way.
Her frown deepened.
Jake had said that the Lone Protester had found her so-called performance-art job by trolling TheEverythingList.
If she was lucky—or the poster had been careless—perhaps the ad was still there.
Mentally crossing her fingers, Darla swiftly logged onto the site and plugged in a few keywords to search.
Jake had said that the Lone Protester had found her so-called performance-art job by trolling TheEverythingList.
If she was lucky—or the poster had been careless—perhaps the ad was still there.
Mentally crossing her fingers, Darla swiftly logged onto the site and plugged in a few keywords to search.
“Valerie Baylor” didn’t do it .
.
.
nor did “book signing” or even “performance art.”
She was about to give it up, assuming the unknown poster had taken down the ad already, when as a last resort she finally typed in the word “protester.”
To her surprise, an ad popped up titled “Professional Protester.”
That had to be it!
.
.
nor did “book signing” or even “performance art.”
She was about to give it up, assuming the unknown poster had taken down the ad already, when as a last resort she finally typed in the word “protester.”
To her surprise, an ad popped up titled “Professional Protester.”
That had to be it!
Professional protester needed for worthwhile cause.
Must be willing to picket popular literary figure while dressed in costume.
$50 per appearance, one week only.
Email to [email protected].
Must be willing to picket popular literary figure while dressed in costume.
$50 per appearance, one week only.
Email to [email protected].
Darla rolled her eyes.
You would think Mavis would be more subtle
, she told herself, even as a small thrill of anticipation swept her.
It looked like her theory was about to be proven correct.
Now, all she had to do was send a message to that address and see if Mavis—or, rather, Morris—replied.
You would think Mavis would be more subtle
, she told herself, even as a small thrill of anticipation swept her.
It looked like her theory was about to be proven correct.
Now, all she had to do was send a message to that address and see if Mavis—or, rather, Morris—replied.
She thought a moment, and then swiftly typed,
Sorry that our last conversation ended on an unpleasant note.
Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.
Darla.
Sorry that our last conversation ended on an unpleasant note.
Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.
Darla.
She hit “Send” before she could change her mind.
As the email vanished off the screen, she stepped back from the computer and let her breath out in a whoosh.
Just doing a little trolling, as they say back home
, she told herself, hoping she didn’t regret this spontaneous attempt at undercover work.
Her email address had the Pettistone’s Fine Books web address in it, which along with her signature file made it obvious that she was the sender.
With luck, that blatant announcement as to her identity would give the impression that she simply was making casual contact in her role as store owner.
As the email vanished off the screen, she stepped back from the computer and let her breath out in a whoosh.
Just doing a little trolling, as they say back home
, she told herself, hoping she didn’t regret this spontaneous attempt at undercover work.
Her email address had the Pettistone’s Fine Books web address in it, which along with her signature file made it obvious that she was the sender.
With luck, that blatant announcement as to her identity would give the impression that she simply was making casual contact in her role as store owner.
She stared at the screen for a few moments, waiting to see if a reply would pop up.
None did.
Darla shook her head.
She couldn’t stand there for the rest of the afternoon hoping for a return message.
Despite the customer slowdown, there was still work to be done around the store.
None did.
Darla shook her head.
She couldn’t stand there for the rest of the afternoon hoping for a return message.
Despite the customer slowdown, there was still work to be done around the store.
“Like right now,” she muttered at the now-familiar clatter of a book hitting the floor.
Hamlet, at it again!
Hamlet, at it again!
“I’ll take care of it,” she called to James, who nodded back from his perch on the ladder where he was pulling down some overstock to fill a few gaps in the inventory.
She stalked back to the classics shelf, which seemed to be the feline’s current choice of playground.
At least this time, he had limited himself to a single volume instead of half a dozen.
Even so, she shot him an annoyed look and threatened, “If you keep this up, I’m going to trot your furry butt down to the vet and get you declawed.”
At least this time, he had limited himself to a single volume instead of half a dozen.
Even so, she shot him an annoyed look and threatened, “If you keep this up, I’m going to trot your furry butt down to the vet and get you declawed.”
Not at all dismayed by her ire—no way would she do that, and he knew it—Hamlet sat boldly in the middle of the aisle beside his latest literary victim.
Maybe she should get some of that canned air like Ted had used and try a little aversion therapy with him.
Snag a book, and hear a nasty hiss.
To be quite honest, however, his mischief was far less destructive than that of some of her customers.
Maybe she should get some of that canned air like Ted had used and try a little aversion therapy with him.
Snag a book, and hear a nasty hiss.
To be quite honest, however, his mischief was far less destructive than that of some of her customers.
Particularly the children.
She still shuddered at the memory of finding a half-eaten lollipop stuck between the pages of one of her most expensive art books a few weeks earlier.
She’d had to mark it down to half price and put it on the “hurt book” table.
There it still sat along with other vandalized volumes, including a popular bestseller where some high-minded customer had thoughtfully used a black marker to obliterate all references to male and female anatomy.
She’d had to mark it down to half price and put it on the “hurt book” table.
There it still sat along with other vandalized volumes, including a popular bestseller where some high-minded customer had thoughtfully used a black marker to obliterate all references to male and female anatomy.
“All right, Hamlet.
What say we give this little game a break until tomorrow,” she declared as she bent to retrieve the volume.
What say we give this little game a break until tomorrow,” she declared as she bent to retrieve the volume.
A glimpse at the title gave her momentary pause.
“So you like Russian literature, do you?”
she asked with a quirk of a brow as she read the title,
Crime and Punishment
.
Giving him a stern look, she added, “Or are you trying to tell me something?”
she asked with a quirk of a brow as she read the title,
Crime and Punishment
.
Giving him a stern look, she added, “Or are you trying to tell me something?”
The feline did not bother to respond to either question.
Instead, with a dismissive flick of his whiskers, he turned tail and headed for the stairway leading to the second floor.
Darla watched him go and then returned her attention to the book she held.
Coincidence, or .
.
.
Instead, with a dismissive flick of his whiskers, he turned tail and headed for the stairway leading to the second floor.
Darla watched him go and then returned her attention to the book she held.
Coincidence, or .
.
.
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