With Cruel Intent (14 page)

into place. I just can’t seem to keep up

with it all. Thank goodness we’ve got

Blanche to look after the library for us.

Heavens dear, you trying to attract every

man within a ten mile radius?” Ester

inquired

sarcastically,

eyeing

the

curvaceous, young librarian.

“I hope it’s not too much,”

Blanche squeaked out, crossing her arms

over her bosom.

“Perhaps we should endeavor to

keep your assets a bit more under wraps

in the future or we’ll never get these high

school students to stop talking about you,”

the director smiled politely, turned on her

heels to walk away but said over her

shoulder. “On second thought maybe we

need to put the donation sign on the desk

right in front of you today, dear, might be

the best day we’ve had in years. See what

you can do with that, will you?” And with

that she was gone, calling for Mr. Marcus

to follow her without turning to address

him directly.

* * *

Blanche

sat

on

the

bench

immediately in front of the library under a

large magnolia tree, its glossy leaves

providing a haven of shade from the

afternoon sun. It had rained for about 30

minutes an hour prior but now the sun was

shining and the rainfall had given

everything around her a brilliant, clean

luster that accentuated the shrubbery and

flowers. She did love it here, the city

itself was beautiful, the people in general

so genuine and caring, her job was a

breeze and she loved the people she

worked with but most of all she was

content.

The poor night's sleep seemed less

significant as she sat and looked around at

the pretty little square and the laid back

atmosphere that seemed to encompass the

town and the South in general. The worry

of finding a place to live, for whatever

reason, seemed less important at this very

moment. She was feeling something she

hadn’t felt for quite some time, happiness.

“Yes, that was it!” she thought,

reflecting on the past few weeks. She had

not been able to quite put her finger on it

this afternoon but she was sure that this is

what true happiness must feel like. Being

able to look beyond the events of the day

it was interesting to her that such an

epiphany was possible, but there it was

right in the middle of her chest, that

burning sensation that speaks to one’s soul

that all is well and life is good.

As she was basking in her new

found

realization

Blanche

noted

a

gentleman approaching the steps of the

library, cane in his right hand and a bit

slumped over, but she thought he seemed

awfully young to be walking with a cane

and hunched over in that manner. She

watched as he reached the steps,

straightened up slightly, and looked

around as if expecting to meet someone.

Blanche noted that rather than looking

through his glasses, he tended to tip his

head so he could see over them.

It was what happened on the steps

that struck her as odd. He seemed to be

having a hard time judging the distance to

each step. He would take a step, pull his

glasses down his nose, look over them

then take the next step. On the final step he

failed to perform the same operation and

tripped sending him falling. Rather than

hitting the concrete as expected, he

reacted with cat like reflexes, regained his

balance without the use of the cane. Once

secure that he was steady, he put his

weight back on the cane, bent over and

proceeded through the main doors.

The incident hung in her thoughts

for only a minute or two chalking it up to

her father’s favorite saying, ‘It takes all

kinds’, before her thoughts returned to the

beauty of the day and the happiness she

was feeling. She wanted to remember the

way she felt right at that moment, capture

it, bottle it up along with the sunshine’s

comforting rays before she had to return to

her duties inside.

* * *

Earlier in the day the burglar had

tossed numerous ideas around. Perhaps he

should just use the Internet to help him

hone his ideas and provide new ones,

after all he’d been told to be creative,

however, ‘creative’ was not on his

resume. Breaking into a home without

detection, yes it was on there, not getting

caught was on there, but breaking into a

home, not getting caught and making a

statement for all to see, that was definitely

not included in his skill set. He’d had

second thoughts about using the Internet; it

would be traceable. All they’d need was

his list of searches in conjunction with his

IP address and they’d be knocking on his

door. He’d seen it happen before and

didn’t want to be a part of that.

Most of the morning he wrote list

after list of what he thought were good

ideas only to come full circle with the

understanding that most of the schemes

sucked. After the press and the police had

turned his first outing into a bit of a

laughing matter, giving some phantom

college student the credit for his well

orchestrated crime, he needed something

with some pizzazz. Something that says

‘Holy Shit’ to the unsuspecting public,

something that will really get their

attention without drawing undue attention

to himself or the ultimate goal. He

obviously needed some help and he knew

the trip he’d planned for the library must

take place, however, he didn’t want to go

as himself just in case they had security

cams scattered about. It had been years

since he’d visited a public library and he

had no idea what to expect, except for an

old maid behind the counter and dusty

books on the shelf.

Several options for a makeshift

disguise presented themselves but he

settled on a Gulf War vet with a back

injury. His father’s old cane would suffice

as a prop and an old baggy, green army

issue jacket would complete the ruse. To

enhance the look he filled his hands with

hair gel and smoothed it through his

straight black hair, pulling it back,

exposing his forehead and uncovering his

ears in the process. Perfect, he had

thought, looking in the mirror, and to top it

off he pulled a pinch of chewing tobacco

from a tin his father had left behind and

put it between his cheek and gum.

“Not so bad,” he thought, as the

juices filled his mouth and he swallowed.

Big mistake! He couldn’t get to the

toilet fast enough and he’d spewed

tobacco and his breakfast all over the

bathroom floor. It had taken him until

almost noon to get things cleaned up and

his disguise completed again minus the

tobacco. Instead he settled on an old pair

of glasses, also left behind by his father,

who used them for reading in his later

years. They made his eyes look funny in

the mirror, kind of magnified and larger

than life but he could manage to see

through them well enough to get around.

The distance vision was poor so he

wouldn’t be able to drive with them on but

the near acuity was acceptable so he

shouldn’t draw any undue attention to

himself, especially in a place where

everyone would be reading. Before

leaving on the appointed mission he stood

in front of the mirror admiring the work

he’d done.

“Me own mum wouldn’t recognize

me,” he uttered under his breath in a funny

little accent, and with cane in hand he had

headed for the Valdosta Public Library.

* * *

Blanche returned to the main lobby

of the library to find a donation sign

positioned squarely in the middle of the

desk with a canister nearby to accept cash

and coins. She chuckled lightly before

addressing the items filling her ‘to do’

boxes. Seated at the desk she could see a

fair portion of the library but failed to see

where the green clad fellow had gone.

“Must be upstairs. Hope he didn’t

hurt himself,” she thought, returning her

attention to the damaged books she was

mending with strapping tape on the

counter with the assistance of one of the

young men from the school program.

She noted that he was having a

very difficult time focusing on the project

at hand and made a mental note not to

wear this sweater again. Too distracting at

work but would possibly work wonders

under the right circumstances. Once the

few mending jobs were completed she

excused the young man with the wandering

eyes and made her way around the library,

checking on the facility and making sure

that all was well. The later afternoon

patrons tended to be younger and that was

the case today. In the far, back corner of

the lower level a group of college students

were huddled together working on term

papers.

Must have been a group project as

each appeared to be throwing his or her

own ideas into the ring and a cute young

redhead

was

moderating.

Blanche

approached the group surrounding one of

the longer tables, stood at the shorter end

and tried to get their attention to no avail.

Placing both hands on the flat surface she

leaned forward extending her torso closer

to the cluster of youth and drummed her

nails on the tabletop until they all looked

in her direction and stopped talking.

She quietly whispered in a hushed

tone, “I know you’re working on

something as a group but we’ll need you

to keep it down just a bit more than you

are now, okay.”

The students responded with a

flurry of responses indicating that they

understood and would be quieter. A good

looking guy sitting next to the redhead

must have paid too much attention to the

shapely librarian and as Blanche turned to

walk away, the redhead gave him a swift

elbow in the ribs and a look of scorn for

good measure.

Working her way up to the second

floor it appeared to be deserted except for

a lone patron wearing a green army jacket

seated in front of a computer monitor and

a stack of books scattered on the table

beside him. Blanche's curiosity was

peaked so she wandered through the upper

level appearing to be busy with adjusting

books on shelves, straightening things up

as she went, gradually working her way

closer to the unusual stranger.

He seemed intent on what he was

reading, both on the screen and the books,

as he thumbed through them. The curious

librarian eventually found herself directly

behind him only separated by a bookshelf

with his back to her. She quietly slid a

handful of books aside and removed a few

others to clear a path so that she could see

what he was doing. He wouldn’t be the

first that they’d had to reprimand for

viewing illicit content with a library

computer but that was not the case here.

She could see the books stacked near him

and each appeared to be crime related,

Helter Skelter
,
The Stranger Beside Me
,

and other popular true crime novels, each

with torn pieces of paper holding place

throughout the titles.

The individual was also working

with a notepad he held on his lap,

periodically making notes then returning

the pad, out of the view of others that may

be passing by. It did not appear he had any

idea that Blanche was behind him as he

googled ‘bizarre crime stories’ and

‘shocking crime stories’.

“Must be a lover of non-fiction

crime genre,” Blanche thought. “I wonder