The Librarian's Last Chapter (7 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

The craft group was in full swing making quilts for the
nursery of River Valley’s homeless shelter. Their laughter and conversation
kept me entertained as I refilled the pitcher of sweet tea.

“Marsha knows what I’m
talking about,” Dottie Baker, the woman I’d saved from a maniac a few months
ago said. Bless her heart. She’d been my advocate ever since.

I lifted the tray with
the pitcher and small sandwiches and waltzed into the back room. “I know what?”
I set the tray on a side counter.

“That people will kill
for money.” Dottie waved a curved quilting needle in the air. “We know first
hand the evil that resides in men, and women. Gertie was telling us about a
treasure map you found that belonged to Mildred. It’s got to be about money.
Half this town wouldn’t turn down a fortune.”

“I still say that most
people are honest and hardworking.” Betty Larson, the oldest of the group at
eighty, stabbed her needle through the yellow quilt. “I refuse to think
otherwise.”

“I agree,” I said. “But
if someone is in dire straits, some will kill. Who in this town needs money in
a bad way?”

“Get your notepad,
girlie,” Dottie said. “And we’ll tell you.”

“Thank you. You ladies
were a great help with the last mystery.” I grabbed a notepad from a drawer and
sat down.

Mom got up and closed the
back door. “No
sense in letting anyone within hearing
distance get
an earful.”

She most likely meant
Leroy if he wandered by. Poor man. He hadn’t gotten used to the idea yet that
his new wife was a Jane
Marple
wanna
be. Me, I preferred Nancy Drew.

“Okay.” Dottie set down
her needle. “First off, there’s Norma Rae Jennings. She’s about to lose that
over-decorated tea shop. If she does, then her mouse of a daughter, Ingrid,
will have to live with her. Those two are like a rabbit and a snake, if you get
my meaning. Then, there’s Brad and Janet Snyder. Everyone knows they’re up to
their necks in debt because of Brad’s gambling habits. Mr. Dean has a secret,
but no one here has been able to ferret it out.”

She took a dramatic gulp
of tea. “Estelle Willis, the English teacher at the high school, hates teaching,
or so I’ve heard. Wants to retire somewhere exotic and write
her
own
murder mystery. Then, there’s the school office manager, Sarah
Boatwright, who spends money like she’s dropping breadcrumbs.”

My pen flew across the
paper. I knew these ladies wouldn’t fail me.

“Don’t forget that new
cop in town,” Betty pointed out. “No one knows anything about him. He’s too
pretty for his own good. That kind of good looks on a man often hides an evil
heart, no offense, Marsha. We all know Duane is the best looking man in town,
but he has a heart of gold. Why, if I were thirty years younger—
hubba
hubba
.”

“Stop it, you old flirt.”
Dottie, winner of the last two years beauty pageant at the retirement home,
hated anyone to upstage her.

“You pink haired old
biddy!” Betty tried pushing back her chair. Her toothpick arms barely budged
her.

“I pay a lot of money for
this shade. It goes with my porcelain complexion. You’re just jealous.” Dottie
did succeed in getting to her feet.

“You just wait until I
get up.” Betty’s chair moved an inch.

“Ladies.” I bit my lip to
keep from laughing. “We’re on the same side here. If we’re going to catch the
person who killed Mrs. Grimes, we have to work together.”

“Fine.” Dottie sat back
down. “But I want it on record that I’m working with Betty in protest.”

“Me, too!” Betty
glowered.

The bell over the front
door jingled, releasing me from comic hell. I hurried to wait on the customer.
Stacy sashayed into the store. Maybe I’d prefer the old ladies.

“Can I help you?” I
pasted on a smile.

“This is the day the
women get together and craft, isn’t it?” She held up a shopping bag. “I’ve come
to craft.”

“They’re working on
quilts today.”

“Wonderful. I’d like to
learn.”

Snoop and dig for
newsworthy information was more like it. I wasn’t worried. The ladies would
clam up the moment Stacy strolled in. My heart clenched. I shouldn’t act that
way. Maybe Stacy was turning over a new leaf and actually wanted to help
people. I shot a quick prayer for forgiveness heavenward and followed the sweet
perfumed scent trail to the back room.

“This day just keeps
getting better.” Betty tried getting up again. “Will someone please help me to
my feet?”

I rushed to her side.
“You aren’t leaving, are you?”

“I’m going to powder my
nose.” She glared at Stacy on her way past.

“What’s her beef with
you?” I resumed my seat.

Stacy shrugged. “I posted
a nice little tidbit about shoplifting in the paper a month ago. Seems our dear
Mrs. Larson was supplementing her income by selling stolen goods.”

Really? I glanced at the
restroom door. You never could tell with some people.

Stacy set out several
unopened packages of craft supplies. “What does a person use for quilting?”

“A needle and thread.”
Mom rolled her eyes and handed Stacy a pieced together pillow top. “You can
learn by quilting this. Just sew in the rows.”

Stacy grinned. “I can do
this. After all, it can’t be different than sewing on a button.”

Dottie snorted. “Aren’t
you the clever girl? Do you have a tape recorder in that bag of yours?”

“You wound me, Dottie,
you really do.” Stacy stuck her tongue out and narrowed her eyes, trying to
slip thread through the eye of a needle. “I’m more than a pretty face and a
reporter, you know.” Her gaze fell on my notes. She made a grab for the paper,
but I snatched it up before her fingers grasped hold. “What’s that?”

“A shopping list.” I
ripped off the top page and shoved it in the pocket of my apron. If Stacy got a
hold of the list of suspects, the whole town would see it in the morning’s
paper.

Her face fell. “I don’t
take everything to the paper. We didn’t print about Bruce receiving a warning
for you to stay out of this latest investigation. That would endanger your life
further, and the paper isn’t about that.”

The group’s voice rose in
alarm. I sighed. I’d wanted to keep the threat against me a secret. “How did
you find out about that?”

Stacy gave a thin smile.
“I have my resources. Why don’t you let me help you this time? As a reporter, I
have good investigative skills.”

She had a good point, but
my distrust of her went back to high school when she’d try to steal Duane away
from me. Could I let that go and accept the help she was offering?

Everyone remained silent
and waited for my answer. I looked around the table at each of their dear
faces. I didn’t want to draw anyone else into the danger I felt creeping up
behind me. Why had I been the one to find Mrs. Grimes? Why had I stepped
forward to continue with a book fair that wasn’t in a volunteer’s job
description? Because I felt this overwhelming need to prove myself. Since my
first husband’s death, I’d strived to be the best at everything: a mother, a
daughter, a business owner, and now a solver of crime. Why couldn’t I be happy
with the things other people were happy with?

Did it have something to
do with marrying Robert out of spite because his brother, my true love, had
deserted me for bigger things? Did I feel like I needed to be something more in
order to keep Duane from leaving again?

“It’s dangerous.” I’d
made my decision. If Stacy wanted to help, she might have resources unavailable
to me.

“I’m up to the task.” She
glanced around the table. “Will y’all have me?”

The women glanced at each
other, then as one, they nodded.

“But if we find one thing
said in private printed in that paper, you’ll have to answer to us,” Betty
said. “That will not be pleasant for you.”

Stacy grinned. “No, I
imagine it wouldn’t.”

I couldn’t shake the
feeling we’d turned a corner, Stacy and I.
A dark corner full
of danger and death.

The women cleaned up
their supplies and left, chattering like a bunch of teenage girls over the
things discussed that morning. Like the crusty dears they were, they included
Stacy in their conversation as if she’d always been a part of their clique. My
heart swelled. Each and every one of those old ladies held a special place in my
heart, even more so after a killer had put a
bulls
eye
on every one of their backs a few months ago.

Through luck,
determination, and God’s grace, I’d managed to keep them safe. Maybe that was
the real reason I put myself in harm’s way. To protect the ones I loved from
being taken from me before their time.

I folded the quilt top
and placed it safely on a shelf until next week. I wasn’t sure what Stacy
intended to do, since we’d accepted her but not filled her in on our suspects. If
she didn’t know who we were watching, how could she investigate? I glanced at
my watch.
Lunch time
. “Mom, I’m heading to the coffee
shop for a sandwich. Do you want anything?”

“Yeah, one of them Panini
things and some mango tea.” She carried the snack tray to the sink. “When you
get back, we’ll come up with a game plan to check out everyone on that list.”

Good ole’ Mom. Always
thinking. I slung my purse over my shoulder and dashed across the street.

A dark sedan roared
toward me. I leaped onto the sidewalk. As the car sped past, I spotted a swath
of baby blue paint across the fender. That was the car that had run me and Mom
off the road.

Instead of entering the
coffee shop, I sprinted down the sidewalk, dodging window shoppers. The car
stopped at the red light. My lungs burned. I had to get close enough to see
through the tinted windows. If I could catch a glimpse of the driver, I’d know
who the killer was.

The light turned green
and the car moved down Main Street. The knowledge I might be close to knowing
the killer’s identity spurred me on. I leaped over the leash of a dog tied to a
fire hydrant and tried to ignore my gasping breath. I really needed to get in
better shape.

The car slowed and turned
the corner. I took a short cut through the alley. Chasing a possible murderer
might not be the smartest thing I’d ever done, but I didn’t stop to put much
thought in my actions. I kept my eyes and mind on the goal. The car passed the
entrance to the alley.

The whoop of a siren
sounded as I burst from the alley. I swerved to avoid running into Bruce’s
squad car. The slam of a door told me he was following. Wonderful. Someone
called the police about a suspicious character running the streets.

“Stop!” Bruce called.

Since he didn’t add “or
I’ll shoot” I kept running. His footsteps pounded behind me.

I tripped over a tree
root and went sprawling on my hands. Concrete scraped the skin from my palms. I
rolled over to my back and glared at my pursuer. “Catch that car. It’s the
killer.”

He took one look at me
and dashed away. Thank goodness, for once in his life, he didn’t stop to ask a
lot of questions.

I got to my feet and
wiped my bloody hands on my thighs. I was going to throttle Bruce when he came
back, which unfortunately was seconds later.

“Dogs chase cars,
Marsha,” he said.

“I almost had the
killer.”

“What would you have done
with them once you caught them?” He glared.

“Shoot them.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Bruce didn’t have to look so shocked. I wouldn’t really have
shot them.

I limped down the
sidewalk to the coffee shop and headed to the restroom in back. After washing
the blood from my hands and skinned knees, I was more ready for caffeine than
before. A chocolate java might ease the pain of the knees being ripped out of
my new jeans. My raw hands burned.

“Hey, Marsha.”

I turned to see Officer
Wilson at a corner table. “Officer Wilson. It’s good to see you.”

He stood and wound
through the tables to my side. “I heard you’re looking for a new car.”

“Yes, sir.” I slid a
twenty-dollar bill across the counter. “Something with good gas mileage.”

“I’ve got a little jeep
that used to belong to my brother. It’s a ninety-five but has a new engine and
it’s been well cared for. You can have it for five thousand.”

“Really?” That would
leave money left over after the insurance settlement that I could spend on the
wedding. “When can I look at it?”

His gaze landed on my
ripped jeans and skinned knees. “Maybe you should go home and change first.” He
jotted his address down on the back of his business card. “I’m home all day.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed the
carrier with mine and mom’s lunches then headed back across the street to the
store.

“What the heck happened
to you?” Mom paused in her sweeping. “You were gone too long for merely going
across the street.”

I set the carrier on the
counter. “The car that ran us off the road almost hit me when I was crossing
the street. I ran after it, but Bruce got in the way so the car drove off.” I
wrapped my hands around my cup, the cold of the blended drink soothing my torn
skin. “Then, I saw Officer Wilson in the coffee shop, and he said he has a jeep
I can look at later.”

“You need a race car so
you can outrun the fool in the sedan.” Mom propped the broom against the wall
and reached for her sandwich. “Does the jeep have four wheel drive?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“Because then if someone
wants to run you off the road, you can actually go off the road.”

I shook my head at her
logic. The last thing I wanted was another face-to-face meeting with a tree. My
knees screamed as I lowered myself in a chair. Duane was going to have a fit
when he got a look at me. The knees I could hide—the hands, not so much.
It wasn’t near cold enough outside for gloves.

The phone on the counter
rang. I reached for the receiver and brought it to my ear. “Country Gifts from
Heaven.”

“Marsha? This is Stacy.
Can you meet me tonight? I have some news I think you’ll be interested in.”

I sat up straighter. “Of
course. I’m picking up a jeep from Officer Wilson. I can come over—”

“Don’t say anything to
him about meeting me, okay? You can’t trust…” Her phone crackled.

“Trust who? Hello?”

More static.
“Know…map…watching.” Her voice lowered. “I really think---Gotta go. Meet me at
eight o’clock … football field.” Click.

I stared at the receiver.
“That was weird.”

“Who called?” Mom asked.

“That was Stacy. She has
some information for me, but the phone kept cutting out. I’m supposed to meet
her tonight at the football field.”

“Do you want me to come
with you?”

I shook my head. “I’ll
head over there after looking at the jeep.” Could I trust Stacy? I thought so.
Meeting her could be a trap, but what did she have to gain? Why lure me to the
football field? If she wanted to hurt me, she could catch me on my way home
from work. None of it made sense. The last place I wanted to meet anyone after
dark was the field. The lights would be off since there was no game.

Was that why she’d chosen
the spot? She needed a dark and secretive place? Maybe she did intend to bash
my head in. “I think I do want you to come with me. No, never mind.” If it was
a trap, I didn’t want Mom in harm’s way. “Isn’t there football practice
tonight?”

“Yes. It’s over at eight.
Once you make up your mind, let me know.” Mom disappeared into the supply room.

There should still be
people milling around the field when I met Stacy. Good. My nerves settled, and
I set to work on my ham and cheese Panini sandwich. There was absolutely
nothing to worry about in regards to meeting Stacy. Especially since Mom knew
where I would be going, and I’d let Duane know. I’d be perfectly safe.

*

I arrived at the field at
a quarter to eight in my new-to-me red jeep
iand
,
since I didn’t see Stacy’s car, sat in the bleachers to watch the last few
minutes of practice. Duane glanced my way and waved. As a teenager, I’d spent
many an evening doing the very same thing, except Duane was one of the boys
practicing and not the coach.

At two minutes until
eight, I clomped my way down the bleachers. Stacy had said football field in
her call. Had she meant the bleachers, behind the restrooms, the snack bar? As
the football players jogged off the field, I moved to the track that circled
the field of green. There was no way Stacy could miss me now. I was the only
person around.

A chilly breeze ruffled
my hair, and I pulled my dark hoodie closer around me. Soon, the lights would
go out, and I’d be truly alone on a massive field. The idea didn’t appeal to
me.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I turned to greet Duane.
“Hey yourself. You haven’t seen Stacy, have you? I’m supposed to meet her
here.”

“Really?” His eyebrows rose.
“I thought you couldn’t stand her.”

“We have a truce. She
really wants to help solve the murder of Mrs. Grimes.” I shrugged. “Who am I to
say no?”

He drew me close for a
quick kiss. “Meet me in the parking lot when you’re finished. We can grab a
quick bite somewhere. I’m starving.” He released me and loped in the direction
of the boy’s locker room.

I turned in a slow
circle. Where was Stacy? It was now ten after eight. I decided to leave the
field and check the more secret places. My footsteps were muffled as I left the
rubber track, lending to the mood that I was the only person left in River
Valley. Until I heard raised voices from under the visitor’s side bleachers.

Changing direction, I
increased my pace across the field. I’d reached the halfway point when the
lights went out and the sprinklers came on. You have got to be kidding me! I
dashed across the field and skid to a halt on the other side.

Water dripped from the
ends of my hair onto my already soaked shirt. I needed to find Stacy fast
before I froze to death. “Stacy!”

“Marsha, help!” Her cry
came from the far end.

I grabbed one of the
poles they used to mark where the football landed during the game and dashed to
the rescue. Since I had nothing on me but my car keys and cell phone, any
weapon was better than none.

Footsteps pounded.
Mine or someone else’s.
I careened around the corner of the
bleachers.

Stacy lay on her back, a
knife protruding from her chest. She reached out a hand for me. I dropped the
flagged pole and fell to my knees before digging in my pocket for my phone. I
sent Duane a quick text and then dialed 911.

“You’re … next.” Stacy
gripped my shirt and pulled me down. “Said … watch …your back.”

I glanced behind me as
spiders skittered up my spine. “Who said that?”

“911 what is your
emergency.”

“I’m at the River Valley
football field.
Visitor side bleachers.
Someone
stabbed Stacy Tate in the heart.”

“Where is that person
now?”

“Stacy or the killer?”
Because it was now a second murder.
Stacy’s lifeless gaze
penetrated mine even as her chest failed to rise with another breath.

“Police and medical
personnel are on their way. Please stay on the phone.”

“Hurry.” I whipped my
head from one direction to the other fast enough to give me whip lash. Stacy’s
whispered warning would haunt my dreams. I was next. How long did I have?

A car door slammed from
the direction of the parking lot. The killer was leaving, I hoped. Still, I
scooted to a spot where bars that held up the bleachers crisscrossed in a thick
enough pattern it would be hard for someone to sneak up and stab me in the
back.

“Ma’am, are you there?”

“I’m here.” My throat
constricted. My breath came in gasps.

“Are you in danger?”

“I don’t know! I’m
sitting here next to a dead body. I very well could be in danger.”

“Is there a safe place
you can go?”

“Not without stepping out
into the open.” Who was this woman? Why did she keep asking me questions?
Conversation was the last thing on my mind. Oh, God, please keep me alive.

Sirens pierced the night.
Blue and red flashes of light filled the parking lot with false gaiety.

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I screamed and dropped my
phone.

“
Shh
.
It’s me.” Duane pulled me into his hands as the operator screamed if I were all
right. “Are you okay?”

I buried my face in his
shirt as Bruce and Officer Bradford charged under the bleachers. Behind them
came three paramedics with a stretcher. “Stacy is dead. I got here seconds
after she was stabbed.”

His arms tightened around
me. Nothing on earth made me feel safer than Duane. “I’ve got you. Let’s get
out from under here and wait for Bruce up top. Why are you soaked?”

I’d forgotten about my
drenching, but now I shivered with a force hard enough to clank my teeth
together. “I got caught on the field.”

Duane set me on a
bleacher than raced away, returning seconds later with a stadium blanket. He
wrapped it around my shoulders, and then pulled me close. “I’m sorry I didn’t
get here sooner. I tried, but one of the boys needed his ankle taped,
and—”

“It’s okay. I should have
texted something more than I need your help. We need a code word or something
for when it’s imperative you get to me.”

He sighed. “Considering
your talent for finding danger and dead bodies, I guess we do.”

“Danger. That’s all I’ll
say or text.” I laid my cheek against his chest and breathed deep of
a musky
cologne and a manly scent that was all Duane I
closed my eyes to the sight of Stacy’s body being wheeled from under the
bleachers.

Who would write about
River Valley’s simple lifestyle now? Who would alert the town that another
murder had been committed? Tears burned their way down my frigid cheeks. Poor
Stacy only lasted a day in the sleuthing business. I must keep my guardian
angel working overtime.

“Bruce is coming.” Duane
whispered in my ear. “I’ll stay right here while he badgers you.”

“Thank you. He’ll be less
of a jerk if you’re here.” I opened my eyes and straightened.

Bruce resembled a bandy
rooster all puffed chest and squinty eyes. It did bother me that I kept the
poor man on his toes with the trouble I got into, but must he look at me as if
it were all my fault?