MELODY and MURDER (Melody The Librarian Book 1) (4 page)

The next morning, I unlocked the back entrance of the library and began the process of bringing the building back to life, flipping light switches, turning on the copier and firing up the coffee pot. Marian had a doctor’s appointment in Crawford and would be in later in the morning. It felt nice to be the sole person responsible for readying the library for business. I felt empowered.

I sat at my desk, enjoying the hot coffee and looking out the window at the naked trees outside swaying. The sky was dark, but at least it wasn’t raining – or snowing – yet. But, it was only a matter of time before the drops would fall.

At 9:00, I picked up the keys and unlocked the inner set of double doors at the front entrance. As I started down the stairs to unlock the outer set of doors, I noticed what appeared to be a pile of clothing heaped on the outside step. As I neared, I could see that it was, in fact, a person curled up on the steps. I unlocked the doors and pushed them open. Now I could see that it was a man lying there. I leaned over and recognized the expressionless face.

It was Jacob.

I bent and held his shoulder, gently shaking him, but there was no response. I put the back of my hand to his nose and felt the cold flesh and the lack of breath. I realized that Jacob had exhaled his last breath at the place he frequented when he sought warmth and shelter, and no one had been there for him.

I quickly returned to my desk and called 911. I was told an ambulance would arrive shortly. I hoped no one would arrive before the emergency personnel. I didn’t know if I should find something with which to cover him. If it was a crime scene, I didn’t want to “contaminate” the scene. The only thing I could find was a long floor mat, but that didn’t seem very respectful, but neither did leaving him lying there.

Fortunately, the police arrived, relieving me from my worries about proper etiquette for the deceased. I stood on the steps, shivering from the cold wind. They left their overhead flashers on as they exited the building. That would surely generate a crowd. The older, heavier-set officer pointed at Jacob’s body, and the deputy donned latex gloves as he knelt over the body. The officer motioned for me to join him inside.

“I’m Chief Benson.”

“I’m Melody Reed,” I replied.

His eyes flickered as he looked into my face, as if trying to retrieve any information he might have filed away associated with that name. It appeared that he’d drawn a blank.

“And you work here, is that right?”

“Yes, I just started two weeks ago. I’m the new Managing Librarian.”

“Oh, yeah…you’re taking Marian’s place. You’re from…Alabama.”

I laughed, causing him to smile, too. His teeth were slightly crooked and jagged. They looked like shark’s teeth.

“No, I’m a Michigander, Chief Benson. I just moved from Birmingham. Michigan.”

“Oh, Birmingham,
Michigan
. I see. My mistake.” His smile faded and his face became creased with concern. “So, Ms. Reed, you found the body out there.”

“Yes, I had just unlocked the front doors at 9:00 and there he was. His name is Jacob.”

“Yes, I know. I know Jacob pretty well. Did you?”

“Well, no. I mean, he sat here six days a week, four hours a day, but we never talked. Just smiled. He seemed nice. What do you think happened?”

“Chief,” the deputy called out. He held up a green bottle that had apparently been tucked away on Jacob’s person.

The Chief turned back to me. “What do I think happened? Well, he may have drunk himself to death, but more likely it was hypothermia.” The Chief spoke quietly, evenly, almost soothingly. “We’ve boarded Mr. Miller – Jacob – several times at our jail, and he knew that our door was open to him any time the weather turned nasty…like last night, for instance. But he might not have been thinking clearly, from the looks of things.”

“Is that true, Chief? Is your door literally always open? I mean, you have someone there all night?”

“Well, more or less,” he said, in a slightly defensive tone. “We don’t have a large, full-time staff, Ms. Reed. But someone is usually on duty, either at the station or on patrol. All he’d have to do is flag down our car if we were out making rounds. And there’s an emergency phone number when we’re closed.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, wanting to diffuse the tension my question seemed to have caused. “The only reason I asked is to get an idea of the resources available to someone like Jacob. I didn’t mean to sound accusatory.”

“And you absolutely did not, Miss Reed,” the Chief said gently. “I appreciate your concern. It must have been a shock, finding him that way. When you become familiar with someone, it hits you harder when something bad happens to them. I understand.”

An ambulance pulled up and two EMTs rolled a wheeled stretcher to the foot of the steps.

“I didn’t touch the body,” I offered.

“That’s good,” the Chief said with a mock-serious expression, as if humoring me. “That’s very good. I’ll bet you’ve watched a lot of those crime shows on TV, haven’t you? As I said, I don’t suspect any foul play here. Isn’t that what they call it on TV,  ‘foul play?’ No, I don’t think anybody would try to rob Jacob; after all, the poor man didn’t have a pot to piss in, if you’ll pardon the expression. And there were no cuts or bruises, indicating an assault of any kind.” He turned to the deputy. “Isn’t that right, Jimmy? No trauma?”

“Check,” Jimmy nodded. “No trauma. Just the smell of cheap rot gut…and worse.”

“Do you…is the body checked more thoroughly once it gets back to the station?” I asked, realizing that I’d phrased the question incorrectly and probably sounded stupid.

“Uh, we don’t take the body to the station, ma’am. The ambulance will take it to the coroner’s office in Crawford, the county seat, where they have more resources. Mr. Miller’s body will be examined by a medical professional and if there’s anything ‘untoward about his demise….’” The Chief paused, as if to savor the condescension in his phrasing. “The examiner will then conduct a full autopsy, if he deems that necessary. This is standard procedure, regardless of the social standing of the deceased.”

“Let me give you a hand,” the deputy offered as the EMTs bent to pick up Jacobs’s body. The deputy stepped backwards to steady the stretcher and, in so doing, kicked the wine bottle over, breaking it on the stone step.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Reed,” the chief apologized. “We’ll get that cleaned up for you right away.”

“That’s alright, Chief,” I said. “If it’s okay with you, I can easily sweep it up. Unless it’s considered evidence, of course.”

“Not really,” he smiled, “but just in case….Hey, Jimmy, what vintage is that wine?”

Jimmy looked confused. “Vintage?” His gloved hand turned the lip of the bottle until the label showed. “Rabid Ray’s Red Froth.”

“I’ll be sure to note that in my report,” the chief said dryly. He and the deputy followed the stretcher toward their car and I tagged along. “Chief, could I ask you one more question? What will happen to Jacob now, as far as a burial?”

The Chief took off his hat and scratched his scalp. “Well, the Department of Human Services will cover the cost for either burial or cremation, as long as the funeral home agrees to the going DHS rate. We have ten business days to put in a request. I’ll check to see if there’s a family member to be found anywhere, but I’m pretty sure he was all alone in this world. If I’m right, then I’ll make the request.”

I was very grateful for the chief’s patience with me. “Thank you so much for all your help, Chief Benson.” I held out my hand and he shook it.

“That’s what we’re here for, Ms. Reed. You sure you don’t want Deputy Jimmy here to help clean up his mess?”

“Positive,” I smiled. As I turned to walk away I could hear Jimmy say something to the Chief, but I couldn’t make out the words. The Chief’s response, however, was loud and clear.

“It’s no different than Animal Control picking up roadkill. Another day, another wino, eh?”

I almost stopped in my tracks, but resisted and instead headed for the entrance. As I stepped over the broken glass, the pungent smell of wine was overpowering. Now, I hoped that it would rain and rain hard.

When Marian came in, I told her the news. “Oh, that poor man, shivering to death with no one around to help him. It’ll take some getting used to, not seeing him around here.”

“I was thinking the same thing” I sighed. “It’s been good for business, though.”

I had never seen so many people in the library, not even on a Saturday. Once I’d finished sweeping up the bottle shards, the onlookers slowly approached the base of the steps. They’d kept a respectable distance while the police and EMTs were on site, but then they drew nearer, huddling together, whispering, likely sharing rumors and speculation. Apparently dissatisfied with the quality of their information, they ventured inside. It must have been daunting, wanting to ask about the sensational details, but a sense of propriety preventing them from approaching a stranger. After all, they didn’t know whether I was their new librarian or the new janitor.

So they shuffled about, a dozen of them, browsing bookshelves or reading items posted on the bulletin board. It might have been their first time inside these walls for some of them. I’ll admit I took some pleasure in their discomfort. I didn’t feel like being a source for their gossip. It was disrespectful of the deceased. I decided that if anyone asked, I’d refer them to Chief Benson.

But now that Marian had shown up, they swarmed on her as soon as we were finished talking. I busied myself with my work, but every time I looked up at the empty chair Jacob favored, I felt a chill.

During my lunch break, I called Michael, my brother, and told him about what had happened that morning, as well as Chief Benson’s comments.

“Road kill, huh?” Michael repeated. “He said that to you?”

“Not to me, but I heard him say it. So is what he told me about autopsies true? It’s not a standard procedure?”

“It’s the medical examiner’s call. It’s not a standard practice. Has he got family? Family members can request an autopsy.”

“From what I know, he doesn’t. The Chief said he’d double-check. I thought that the police could request an autopsy.”

“We can, but it should come from the Chief, if he feels it’s required.” Michael paused for a moment. “Is that what this is all about? You want me to request an autopsy?”

“Well, what good is it to have a brother who’s a detective if you can’t take advantage of it once in a while?”

“And how would I justify my request? “Because my sister told me so?” I‘d have no reason to piss off the Chief, or incur the expense to the county. Why would you even consider asking me to do that?”

I felt slightly foolish, but tried to explain. “I wanted to verify what the Chief said, that’s all. You’re the one putting words in my mouth. I didn’t know the protocol involved, but now I do. So it’s settled.”

“Okay, don’t get mad, Mel,” Michael said, sounding more like a brother and less like a cop. “If you ever get a speeding ticket, I’ll see what I can do, but – please – no more autopsies, okay?”

Well, if you don’t ask, you don’t learn. I was glad to hear that Michael and his family would be visiting us on Sunday. I hadn’t seen him since Christmas. According to the weather forecast, we would have a respite from the rain. Maybe we could have a cookout.

Later that night, I told Mom about Jacob. She was in the kitchen preparing a tuna salad. She’d already heard about it, of course. News travels fast in Lake Hare.

“Are you the one who found him? Poor dear, are you alright?”

“It was a shock, but I’ve settled down.”

“Well, it may sound harsh, but it’s probably for the best. I can’t imagine what it was like for him, living day to day, not knowing where he’d sleep that night, or when he’d eat. And most likely it would just get worse the older he got.”

I partly agreed with what Mom said, but another part of me was still outraged that nobody seemed to be able or willing to help him. I was about to express that frustration when Mom continued.

“To tell the truth, some of the business owners got quite upset, having someone like that hanging around their shops. He’d scare away customers. He was creepy.”

“Well, I still think it’s kind of sad,” I said.

“Of course, it is,” Mom agreed. “It’s a shame the way some people turn out, but what can you do? You can’t fix them once they’re broken. Let’s hope he’s moved on to a better place.”

That was as close to a satisfactory resolution of the subject as we were likely to get. I changed the subject.

“I spoke with Michael today. He said he’s coming to visit on Sunday.”

“I know, won’t that be fun? The whole family will be together. Now we don’t have to wait until Christmas for that to happen.” Mom licked some tuna salad from her thumb. “You know, if you ever want to have company over, you’re welcome to do so. I can always scoot off to another part of the house.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, uncertain what she meant. “That’s good to know.”

“I just thought that you might run into old acquaintances – or new ones – and I didn’t want to limit your socializing while you’re here. Have you looked up Gary Van Dyke, by any chance?”

Her expression hinted that she was looking for a reaction on my part. I easily sidestepped her inquiry. “Not yet, but his father did stop by the library. It was good to see him. He says Gary’s staying pretty busy these days, but I’m sure we’ll bump into each other.”

“Well, you could make a little effort,” she replied with a touch of testiness. “You two always got along so well and you both love music. I understand that he’s still single.”

“Good to know, Mom, good to know. Well, I’m going to practice on my concertina for a while. I’ll spare you and practice in my room. Mind if I make myself a sandwich?”

“No, that’s for you. Just save me a little bit. Maybe I should invite Gary over for dinner. How would you like that?”

“Mom, please don’t play matchmaker for me, okay? I swear, if you start, I’ll go live on the street, or shack up in one of those cut-rate motels on the highway. I need you to respect my privacy.”

“Okay, okay. It was just an idea,” she said, defensively. “I just don’t want you getting so wrapped up in your work that you don’t find time for a little fun.”

“I’m going to go have fun right now…playing with myself.” I took the sandwiches and walked away.

“Why do that when you and Gary could be making beautiful music together?” she hollered after me.

Moms…. She meant well, but it appeared the dynamics of our relationship would never change, regardless of how independent I think I’ve grown. Maybe I needed to check rental listings, just in case.