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Authors: Karoline Barrett

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BOOK: Raisin the Dead
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I laughed. “Maybe you should trade your collar for a shield. I'm a big fan of those shows, too.”

“I'll stick with the collar. Less dangerous. Will you keep me updated? Let me know how Jill is doing? I only met her a few times, but my first impression was of a personable, outgoing, happy woman. Of course, many times we only see the surface. She seemed very much in love with Philip. I didn't mean before that because he was reconsidering their engagement he didn't love her. I told him he was wise to postpone if he had any doubts and to get any issues cleaned up first, before walking down the aisle. I wish more couples would do that.”

I got up. “Very true. I won't take up any more of your time, Father. Can I leave you my number in case you think of anything else?”

“Of course.” He pushed a pad of paper and a pen in my direction.

“Thank you for seeing me.”

“I'm glad you stopped by. Will I see you in church one Sunday?”

“Episcopalian,” I replied, smiling. “Catholic light.”

He laughed. “Same religion, half the guilt. You're always welcome here, Molly.”

CHAPTER 25

I drove back to the bakery and sat in my car in the parking lot for a few minutes going over my conversation with Father Davidson, and again, thinking about the writing on the mirror that was still a bright neon sign in my brain.

Daniel Bixby had admitted to calling Philip and threatening him. If he'd admitted to that, then wouldn't he have admitted to sending letters and the texts that were intended to frame my mother? Especially if it would help free him from a possible murder rap. If he didn't send those, then who did? Jill? That meant she had to get an untraceable phone.

I called Olivia and impatiently waited for her to pick up.

“Thank you for calling Bread and Batter. Olivia speaking.”

“Hi. I'm in the parking lot. I was about to come inside, but there's something I need to do.”

“Who is this?” she asked after a beat. “Your voice sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Very funny. I'm sorry, Liv. I promise, promise, promise I'll make it up to you when this is over.”

“Don't worry about it, Nancy Drew, girl detective. Bread and Batter isn't going anywhere.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't angry with me. “You're the best.”

“Flattery isn't going to work one of these days, you know. Do me a favor. If you're running after bad people, stay safe this time. I can't do Bread and Batter without you. I don't want to do life without you. Neither do Noelle, Sean, nor your parents, I'm sure.”

“That's sweet. I'll be fine.” I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the library.

There were a lot of patrons inside and no sign of Jill. I was glad, actually. Now that I sort of considered her a murder suspect, I didn't want to face her. I was afraid my suspicion would show on my face. I found my mother in the café, which featured Bread and Batter's cupcakes for sale along with assorted teas and coffees. “Hi. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she said. “What's up?”

“I need Daniel Bixby's address.”

“Let's go into my office. Does this have to do with him being a suspect in Philip's murder? It's not library protocol to give out employees' addresses.”

“I know. It's not as if I'm going to advertise it. You can trust me.” I didn't mention that I wasn't sure he killed Philip. “I need to talk about some things with him.”

She closed her office door behind her. “And you don't want to tell me what.”

I smiled in amusement at her no-nonsense tough library director persona. “For now.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm probably better off not knowing. How's Detective Corsino, by the way? Any changes since your father and I went up to Destiny Memorial late yesterday? I'm still not thrilled at being questioned in Philip's murder. I'm trying to understand that he's just doing his job, but still, I didn't relish the thought of being hauled off to jail. His parents are lovely people. I'm glad we met them.”

Sean was trying to get back in my mother's good graces since the accident and since she was dropped as a murder suspect. I don't think he was making a lot of headway, and I couldn't exactly blame my mother for feeling as she did, but I knew she would mellow, eventually. “They are. They liked you and Daddy, too. I miss them. Doctor Tryon assures me Sean is slowly improving. I wish I could get Felicia out of town.”

“I'm sure she'll get the message and leave, eventually.”

“I hope so. I need another favor besides Daniel's address.”

“What is it?”

“Do you have a picture of Jill?”

She looked confused. “Why do you want a picture of Jill?”

“I want to check something out.”

My mother pulled open a file drawer. “This isn't related to Philip's murder, is it?”

“Maybe. But I'd rather not say anything more.”

“Is Jill involved? Good Lord, Molly, I can't believe Jill would be involved.”

“Shhh. I didn't say she was. I just want to check something. Please don't mention anything to her. Seriously, nothing at all.”

“You can trust me. I hope you're not going to get hurt, doing whatever you're doing.” She handed me a five by seven black and white print. It was a perfect shot of Jill.

“I think she was putting on a puppet show for the kids in this picture,” my mother explained.

“I'll bring it back when I'm finished.”

“I hope you're not going to be in any danger.”

“I don't think so. Don't worry.”

“It's a mother's job. One day, you'll see. I'll get you Daniel's address. I suppose you could look it up on the internet and find it anyway.”

“True, but this is faster.”

She gave me an envelope to put Jill's picture in, and I put the paper with Daniel's address on it in my purse. “How long has Jill worked here?”

My mother went to a file drawer and pulled out a manila folder. “Since July of 1985. She worked at the library in Shepherdsville before coming here.”

“Did they do background checks on librarians back then?”

My mother shook her head. “No. We don't do that now even. Maybe the large city libraries do. We check references rather than doing a formal background check.”

“Were her references checked?”

“Oh Molly, I have no idea. I wasn't director then.” She went over to the wall lined with pictures of former library directors. “That was Adela Monfries. The woman has since died. You're talking thirty years ago. She looks about seventy in this picture.”

“Is there anything in Jill's personnel file about her references?”

My mother rifled through the papers in Jill's file. “No. I don't see anything. I have her original application. She lists a couple of names.”

“Can I have them? Are there phone numbers? Addresses?”

My mother frowned as she read. “I'm really crossing the line here. No phone numbers. Just addresses. Do you think these people are still at the same address?”

I shrugged. “Worth a try. It's important, or I wouldn't ask. Would you feel better if I got Chief Carly or Sergeant Jacoby to ask?”

“I should say yes,” she replied as she scribbled names and addresses on a piece of paper, “but I trust you. Nothing more though. I'm done helping your shady activities.”

I hugged her. “Thanks. Talk to you soon.”

***

The guy behind the counter at the Phone Man store at the outlet mall stared at Jill's picture. I was grateful that I was the only customer; I didn't want anyone overhearing me. “I may have seen her, I'm not sure.”

“Take your time. Do you sell a lot of disposable phones?” I asked.

“Nah, they aren't a hot item for this store.” He snapped his fingers and gave me a triumphant look. “I do remember now. She bought a smartphone and a disposable phone. She had lots of questions about the disposable phone. She kept glancing around, like she was nervous or something. I recognize the nose piercing. She looked like she was my mom's age.” He cracked a smile. “I can't picture my mom with a nose piercing. I thought it was weird that this woman had one, you know?”

I picked up the picture and examined it. Sure enough, her nose was pierced on one side. I remembered her sort of distaste for Kendra's piercing and tattoos. What had that been about if she herself had a nose piercing? I'd never noticed a stud in her nose before, but then again, we weren't friends, so why would I? “What kind of questions did she ask?”

“Are you the police again or something?” he asked.

“Again?” My interest was piqued.

“My manager mentioned a detective who came in asking questions. Is this about the same woman?”

“I'm not sure.” I hoped it was. “No, I'm not officially with the police, but it may help solve a man's murder if you answer my questions.”

He nodded, apparently satisfied with my reply. I was glad he was so young, and therefore less likely to ask questions of me, which I wasn't looking for. “She wanted to know how the disposable phone worked, could the calls from it be traced, did it have text-messaging capability, things like that. But that's not why I remember her.”

“Why do you remember her?”

“She was a dressed kind of weird. For a woman of her age, I mean. She wore huge sunglasses and a big floppy hat. I'm pretty sure she had a long wig on. It was a weird orange red color. No one has hair that color. It didn't even look like real hair.”

“You're very observant.”

“Thanks, but not really. This woman was odd. Like, if she was trying to go incognito, she did a really bad job. Anyone who wasn't blind would have noticed her.”

“Did she pay with a credit card?”

“Cash. I remember that because she handed me a hundred dollar bill. It was a pain, you know? We don't keep that much cash here. No one uses cash.”

“Thank you.” I glanced at his nametag. “Robbie. You've been a big help.”

“No problem.”

I got into my car and pulled out my phone. “Hi, it's me. Sorry to bother you again. Do you remember Jill having a nose piercing?”

“Not that I can recall,” my mother answered. “If she does, she doesn't wear it at the library.”

“Is she there now?”

“She just came in.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Let me guess. You want me to go stare at her nose and let you know if she has one?”

“You're good. Please. It would be on her left side. If you're looking at her, it would be on the right. I'll hold.”

I was about to give up on her when she returned. “I don't see one, but there's a little mark on the right side of her nose that looks like a hole for a stud, or whatever you call it.”

“That's great, thank you.”

“Can I go back to library business now?”

“Yes, but can you answer another question first?”

“I'll try.”

“Since Jill's a children's librarian, does she ever dress up, wear wigs or anything?”

“Yes, she does that sometimes if she's doing special kids' programs.”

“Does an orange wig sound familiar?”

“She's played Pippi Longstocking more than once. She had an orange wig on then. Why?”

“It might be important. Do you know where the wig is?”

“We have a big closet where costumes and props for programs are stored. It's probably in there.”

“Can you please see if you can find the wig, take a picture of it, and send it to my phone?” I waited for her reply, then checked my phone to make sure our conversation was still live. “Are you there?”

“Yes. I'm trying to figure out why you need me to do this.”

“I'll let you know if it turns out to be important.”

She sighed. “Okay. Let me find my phone, I'll try to find the wig. I'll text you a picture. What we parents do for our children. And I don't even get paid.”

“But you have my undying thanks and love. You know I appreciate it all. Are you going to do it now?”

“As soon as we hang up. Anything else you need?”

“That's it. Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

I got out of my car and went to the coffee shop (the upscale one Serafina had previously asked about) and bought a small lemonade iced tea. I wandered around for about ten minutes and found myself in front of a lingerie and women's undergarments outlet store. Push-up bra? Did I really need a push up bra? I'd survived this long without one. My phone pinged, ending my musings. I went back to the Phone Man, which luckily was still empty.

“You're back,” said Robbie. “Can I help you with a new phone?”

“No, thanks.” I held my own phone out to him. “Does this look like the wig the woman had on?”

He looked closely at the picture. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. I think, except it's braided in this picture. But the length and color match.” He frowned up at me. “How did you get that? How come you're so interested in some woman's wig?”

I was searching for a plausible reply when a couple of potential customers wandered in. Robbie immediately lost interest in me and why I was showing him a picture of a wig. I took that opportunity to skedaddle out of there. People of any age are only cooperative for so long before they start wondering why you have so many questions.

***

My next stop was the Destiny Trust for Historical Preservation. I hoped Peter Delaney was in. Maybe he could shed some light on who painted the sign Daniel was holding. It was a small, two-floor stucco building near the library.

“Good day. Can I help you?” A man approached me as soon as I'd stepped in the door.

“Hi. I'm looking for Peter Delaney.”

“That's me. What can I do for you? Oh, dear, I hope you aren't here for a tour of Destiny. We only give tours of Destiny on Saturday mornings. You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“I own half of Bread and Batter Bakery and no, I'm not here for a tour.”

“Yes, that's why you look familiar. Aren't you also Anne Tyler's daughter?”

“I am.” I showed him the picture of Daniel with the protest sign before he could ask any more questions. “Do you remember who helped paint signs for this protest?”

He took the picture from me. “Several people. This is an old picture. Daniel is one of our most outspoken advocates, I'm proud to say. He's related to Samuel Westley, you know.”

“I'm aware of that, yes. Do you remember who painted the sign he's holding?”

“It may have been one of our volunteers.”

“Was Jill McGinley one of your volunteers? She's a librarian.”

“Ah, yes. She was a tremendous help for this particular event. Willing to do whatever it took to promote our cause, emailing our newsletter, putting up signs around town, painting our protest signs when the library decided to tear down Westley House. I was a little surprised, given that she's a librarian. Daniel, I can understand. This home belongs to him in essence through his bloodline.” He pursed his lips.” Anyway, about Jill McGinley, she helped for a while. That was that.”

BOOK: Raisin the Dead
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