The Librarian's Last Chapter (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Opting out of taking prescription pain medication,
I downed
three Ibuprofen with the last of my diet soda
and staggered to the bedroom to get ready for the PTSO meeting. No amount of
makeup would cover the bruises from last night’s accident, so I settled for
pulling my hair into a ponytail and donning my most fashionable skinny jeans
and a colorful blouse.

If my attacker was in
attendance at the meeting, I wanted them to see how battered I could get without
quitting. I slapped on some lipstick that matched the rose in my blouse. As I
carefully navigated the stairs on swollen knees, Mom entered through the front
door. So much for keeping me company all day. She and Leroy still acted like
newlyweds, often leaving me in the lurch.

“Are you hungry?” She
held up a casserole dish. “Tuna. Is Lindsey home?”

My stomach rumbled. “No,
she texted me to say she was eating at a friend’s house. She’ll be home around
seven. Will you stay and wait for her?”

“You don’t want me to go
to the meeting with you? I’m a part of this mystery, you know.” Mom marched to
the kitchen.

I followed. “I didn’t
know you wanted to go.”

She dished out two
servings of tuna casserole with crunched potato chips on top. “Of course I do.
We’re partners. Like Cagney and Lacey or that other show, Rizzo and someone.”
She waved the spoon as if the names didn’t matter. “Or Sherlock and Watson.
You’re Sherlock, because he’s a smart aleck.”

“Gee, thanks.” I sat at
the table while Mom placed my plate in front of me. “We’ll have to eat fast. I
don’t want to be late.”

“We have thirty minutes.
It’s only a ten minute drive. Eat.” She sat across from me, her hair
poofed
over the top of the bandage on her forehead. I tore
my gaze away from the way she’d teased her bangs to try and hide the white
gauze. Vanity at its finest.

We finished our late
dinner and left the house at ten minutes before seven p.m. If we were lucky,
we’d walk in right as the meeting started. All eyes would be on us. Because of
my sore knees, I relented and let Mom drive. I hated her white beast of a car.
People could see us coming a mile away.

Mom squeezed the beast
between two compact cars. “I don’t know why they don’t make bigger parking
spots,” she said, squeezing her way out the small space available.

“They’re trying to
encourage people to buy cars that have better gas mileage.” Getting out was
tricky with my achy body, but eventually we entered the side door of the
library.

Ten people turned to
stare, among them, Cheryl Wright, Estelle Willis, the freshman English teacher,
Janet Snyder, head of the PTSO, and her husband Brad, who was the band leader.
Behind us, Sarah Boatwright, squeezed her way in. That made thirteen members.
Not as much as I would have thought considering how many students were in ninth
through twelfth grade. Obviously, most parents were like me and too busy to add
one more thing to their schedule.

Janet glanced at her
watch. “If everyone will be seated, we can get started.”

Averting my eyes from the
stock room where Mrs. Grimes met her demise, I sat at the oblong table. I
glanced around the room. Everything looked much the same as I’d left it. The
antique books still sat in a stack on the desk. I should have counted them.
Now, there was no way of knowing whether one was missing. The book fair crates
were still in front of the main
doors,
although
someone had moved them back a bit to allow entrance.

I zoned out as the
minutes from the last meeting were read, only snapping to attention when Janet
called my name. “Yes?”

“You had something to
discuss with the group?”

“Oh, yes. I’d like to ask
for help with this year’s book fair. Principal Dean asked me to continue for
the sake of Mrs. Grimes and I thought a Haunted House, or tunnel, would be a
good way of attracting the attention of high school students.”

“While I don’t approve of
celebrating Halloween,” Janet stated. “I do see how this would draw in the
students. Today’s youth love this type of evil entertainment. What will the
PTSO get out of helping?”

I wasn’t aware they would
want part of the funds. “What do you usually get?”

“We’ll want twenty
percent. I refuse to dress in costume but will be more than happy to run the
cash register.” Janet motioned for Cheryl to write her name beside cashier.
“The rest of you can help in whatever manner you see fit.”

My family didn’t
celebrate Halloween either, but now that Lindsey was sixteen, she often joined
in with her friends in harmless pranks. The Haunted House might be another way
of keeping the students from wandering the streets.

“What about flowers for
Harriet’s funeral?” Cheryl blinked, her eyes glistening. “I motion that we send
an arrangement.”

Janet glanced around the
group. “Is there going to be a service? I wasn’t aware she had any family.”

Estelle nodded. “A small
memorial is being set up by members of the school. I think flowers are a great
idea.”

“What kind?” Janet
shrugged. “We knew very little about her.”

I spotted silk daisies in
a pot on her desk. “Daisies.”

“Very well. Cheryl, write
that down.” Janet reached for a bottle of water. Her hand shook, spilling some
on the table in front of her.

“Are you all right?” I
asked.

“This talk of death
upsets me.”

She didn’t seem upset.
Instead, she seemed very focused on the topic at hand. I needed to find a way
to get all my suspects in one room together. “If it bothers you to hold the
meetings here, why not move them? Norma Rae Jennings owns the tea room on Main
Street. Maybe she would be glad for the extra business.”

Janet’s eyes widened.
“Hold the PTSO meetings off campus? Is that done?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Cheryl
said. “This place gives me the creeps now.”

Brad glanced up from
where he played online gambling on his phone. “Fine with me. I’m only here
because Janet drags me. She can force me to attend there as well as here.” He
bowed his head back over his phone.

“This is my last year
anyway,” Estelle said. “I’ve almost got enough money to retire. Once that
happens, I’m out of here.”

“The loyalty in this room
just warms my heart.” Janet slapped the phone out of her husband’s hands.

Mom and I glanced at each
other, both clamping our lips together in an effort not to laugh. River Valley
had more than its share of quirky residents.

“I have a question.” Mom
raised her hand.

“You aren’t in a
classroom, Gertie.” Estelle shook her head.

“I’m just wondering why
no one in this room has commented on the way Marsha and I look. Granted, you
probably all know that we were run off the road last night.” She speared each
member with a look as if by doing so, they might confess. “Maybe one of you
are
responsible.”

“Good grief.” Sarah
banged her palm on the table. “Are you accusing one of us of reckless driving?
We are responsible members of society.”

“No.” Mom stood. “I’m
accusing someone of trying to kill me and my daughter.” She grabbed her purse.
“See y’all at the next meeting.” She stormed out the door.

I muttered my apologies
and followed as fast as my bruised body would allow. “What this about?”

“Just trying to flush out
a bird.”

I made note of the models
and colors of the cars in the parking lot. If one of them tried to run us off
the road, I wanted to know without a doubt who to blame. “Don’t you think that
made the target on our backs bigger?”

“Yes, so don’t tell
Leroy.” She slid behind the wheel of the Caddy. “He’ll make me stop helping
you.”

Whether or not she was
actually helping was debatable. I stared at my reflection in the window on the
way home. I did find it curious that no one mentioned the accident. Maybe they
thought it would embarrass us? “I think we need to make attending the memorial
service a priority.”

“I agree. We need to be
everywhere at all times until the killer is flushed out of hiding.” Mom pulled
into the driveway. “You still have your Taser, right?”

“Never leave home without
it.”

“I bought one myself when
Leroy and I were traveling the country.” She patted her purse. “I think I need
a gun. If we’re both armed, no one will mess with us. We’ll find some innocent
way of letting folks know we have weapons.”

Who was this woman? I
rarely carried my gun, although I was tickled to death when I found a pink
9-millimeter. I kept it locked and safe on the top shelf of my closet. “Bruce
is going to have a heart attack if he finds out you have a gun.” I shoved my
door open.

“What he doesn’t know
won’t hurt him.”

“What are you going to tell
Leroy?”

“That I want to start
target shooting. He doesn’t need to know that the target is someone trying to
kill my girl.” She grinned at me.

My
mama, the she-bear.
I understand how she felt, being a mother myself. If
someone tried to hurt Lindsey, I wouldn’t hesitate to put them in the
crosshairs.

We entered the kitchen to
the sight of our men and Lindsey playing Chinese checkers. I never could get
her to play games with me.

Duane smiled. “How did
the meeting go?”

“Good. What are you doing
here?” I bent to give him a kiss.

“The other team
forfeited. Not enough eligible players.”

“Ouch. I should have
plenty of help for the book fair.”

“You look exhausted.” He
pulled me into his lap.

“Gross.” Lindsey stood.
“If you’re going to start that, I’m going to my room.” She flounced away,
sending the four adults into laughter.

“She’ll change her mind
about that someday,” Mom said.

“Not too soon, I hope.”
Although Lindsey had a boyfriend a few months ago, she still seemed to prefer
spending most of her times with her girlfriends. I wasn’t naïve enough to
believe it wouldn’t all change soon.

Duane wanted a child of
his own someday. With me pushing thirty-six years old, I guessed we’d have to
start right away after getting married. Me, a mother of a new-born with a daughter
almost out of high school, starting all over with diapers, potty-training, and
hormonal mood swings.

I slid from his lap and
headed for the refrigerator. “Anyone thirsty? We have tea.”

“No, thanks.” Duane stood.
“I only stopped by to make sure you made it home safe. Walk me out?”

I followed him to his
truck and stepped into his arms. After several minutes of kisses that left me
weak, I stepped back. His face was in shadow, yet I knew every angle. “I love
you.”

“Ditto, beautiful.”

“Even with the colorful
bruises?”

“Even then. I can’t wait
until I don’t have to leave.”

“Darn morality.” I
grinned.

“Yep.” He kissed me
again,
then
got into his truck. “I’ll see you in the
morning. Maybe we can head to the lake and do some fishing.”

I hated fishing, but if
it meant spending time with him, I’d go. I stood and watched him back out of
the drive. As I turned to head back to the house, car headlights flicked on.

Why was a car sitting on
the street with its lights off?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Purse over my shoulder, and the swelling in my knees down, I
rushed into the front office of the high school, ready to tackle the locked
drawer. I signed the volunteer book and grabbed my volunteer badge. With a grin
and a wave to Cheryl, I headed down the hall.

“Wait.” Cheryl rushed
toward me. “Mr. Dean wants a detailed report of what the haunted house will
entail.”

“He wants it now?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I
know you have tons of work to do.”

Not to mention a drawer
to break into. “I don’t have all the details, but I’ll come up with something.”

“Then, once he approves
it, he wants a copy in each of the teacher’s boxes.” She gave an apologetic
smile. “He wants me to help you. Do you mind coming to the teacher’s lounge?”

I groaned and followed
her. It didn’t do a lot of good for me to plan anything. Something always got
in the way. The last person I wanted to plan something scary with was Cheryl.
She’d shiver and get pale at every chainsaw maniac I mentioned. Not that I
particularly enjoyed haunted things, but after what I’d gone through the last
few months, people in costume weren’t frightening. I didn’t intend to go
through the tunnel of doom anyway. “We’ll call it the Tunnel of Doom. Write
that down.”

She rolled her eyes and
sat at a round table in the lounge. “At least let me sit down.”

Thankfully, the lounge
was empty. We wouldn’t have others injecting their ideas.

“Okay, I’ve written down
the name. When we’ve finished planning, I’ll type it up and take it to Mr. Dean
for his signature. I’m sure he will also want to participate.” She poised her
pencil over her pad. “What else?”

“We’ll need a lot of
black … something.
Garbage bags or plastic.
Something to make the hall with.
I’ll have little rooms
where something macabre is being acted out. There will also be horrifying
monsters lurking around corners and following the attendees.” I rubbed my hands
together. Kids loved this kind of stuff. “We’ll have a tape of scary music
playing in the background. There will also be covered boxes that people can
stick their hands in to feel something gross.”

Cheryl paled with each
thing she wrote down. “Are you sure Harriet would have liked this sort of
thing?”

“The book club members
are the ones who said she loved Dracula.” Goodness. We could do something warm
and fuzzy but not one high school student would bother to attend. “Isn’t the
whole point of this to involve the students and make money?”

“Couldn’t we do a
carnival or something?”

“We could.” I’d actually
prefer something along that nature. “But how would we get the people with the
money to actually make their way to the book fair with dollars still in their
pockets?”

“That’s the clincher.”
Cheryl tapped the eraser end of her pencil on the table. “As much as I hate
Halloween, it is a good idea. Maybe we could have a happy scarecrow at the end
of the tunnel making balloon animals?”

Was she serious? “Uh, if
you feel that strongly about it. I actually think you might be on to something.”
The book fair might be for the high school, but most of the students had
younger siblings. “We could do the Tunnel of Doom on a smaller scale and have
games put on by the PTSO and student council, a pumpkin patch, bean bag toss,
three-legged race, all the old-fashioned fun that kids of today are missing.
We’ll have a clown making balloon animals right inside the side door to lure in
the families with younger kids.”

“Now you’re talking.”
Cheryl’s pencil raced across the paper. “It’s a lot of work to do in a little
over three weeks, but if we recruit help now, we can do it. The book club can
focus on the inside of the library while everyone else does the tunnel and
games.”

Excitement over the event
finally welled in me. “Since you’re at the school every day, why don’t you set
up a committee and I’ll get my stepfather busy on building?”

“Wonderful. I’ll type
this up right away.” She leaped from her chair and dashed out of the lounge,
leaving me feeling overwhelmed and relieved at the same time.

I no longer felt as if I
were taking on the task alone.

“What are you doing
here?” Lynn entered the lounge and stuck two quarters in the vending machine. A
diet soda rattled out.

“Planning the book fair
with Cheryl. We’ve come up with something to appeal to all ages.” I stood and
grabbed my purse. “With the book club, PTSO, and student council, I should have
plenty of help.”

“If you do too good of a
job, they may ask you to take over again in the spring.” Lynn laughed and
popped the soda top.

I shuddered. “Absolutely
not. I have way too much on my plate as it is. Not only do I own a business,
but I have a wedding to plan. Not sure how I’m supposed to get all that done
with this fair.”

“All you need is your
dress.” Lynn narrowed her eyes. “Right?”

“Yes, I’ve booked the
hall by the lake. Mom is taking care of the food.” Thank goodness I wanted a
small intimate ceremony with only Lindsey and Lynn standing up for me. Leroy
would give me away. “Let’s go look for dresses on Saturday, okay?”

“It’s a date.” She
toasted me with her can and left.

Finally, I could head to
the library. I glanced at my watch. Mom was expecting me back at the shop in thirty
minutes. I’d have to work fast.

I stepped out of the
lounge as the bell rang. Immediately the hall clogged with hundreds of students
who didn’t care that an adult in a hurry needed to get by. I sighed and waited
for the stampede to end. Lindsey strolled by with her arm through the arm of a
boy. Interesting. “Hey, Lindsey.”

“Mom?” Her cheeks turned
pink. “Can’t talk now. Got to get to class.” She slipped her arm free and fled.

I grinned. Oh, I had a
million questions. Relieved she was interested in someone other than the Bobby
she had dated last year, I navigated my way to the library and entered the
double doors. A few students milled around.

A girl in glasses turned.
“Can we check out books?”

“I don’t see why not.” I
didn’t have access to the computer, but I was capable of writing her name and
the title of the book down. I eyed the locked drawer. I definitely needed to
get it open before they hired a new librarian.

It taunted me in oak
laminated finery. I jiggled it for good measure,
then
headed to the back room. Mrs. Grimes had to have hid the key somewhere in that
room. I froze. What if she’d slipped it into her pocket? It would be forever
out of my reach.

I could use a little guidance, Lord
. I spotted a pair of scissors. There
was nothing else to do. I’d have to break the lock.
Unless…I
picked up the phone.
“Cheryl, there’s a locked drawer in the library
that has something I need and since I don’t have keys of my own, do you have
extra ones?” I should have done
this days
ago.

“Of course we do. I’ll send
a student down with it.”

I was such a dunce. The
next few minutes were busy checking out books as I watched the clock tick. Mom
was going to be upset if I was too late. She’d told me that morning that she
had plans to have lunch with Leroy.

“Here’s the key.” A
sour-faced young man dropped a small gold key on the desk.

“Thank you.” I opened the
drawer, grabbed the papers inside, and dashed back to the front office to sign
out. I’d just make it to work on time.

When I arrived at Country
Gifts from Heaven, Mom waited by the door, purse in hand. “Talk about cutting
it close,” she said. “I’ll be back in an hour. There’s a list of phone numbers
by the phone, along with samples, of folks interested in the consignment.”

“Thanks.” After stashing
my purse under the counter, I dug through the samples. There were a few of a
good enough quality to add to our shelves. How did I let the other eager
crafters down? Maybe, as long as we had the shelf space, I could put out even
the bubblegum pink pot holders with missing stitches. If they didn’t sell, the
crafter might get the idea and give up. It wasn’t my place to discourage
anyone.

I held up some baby
items. These would sell well. Mom and I had discussed carrying baby clothes but
neither of us had the time to crochet or sew them. The satin christening gown
was especially beautiful with its lace cuffs and shiny ribbon. I smiled,
remembering the frilly white gown Lindsey had worn at her baby dedication.
Maybe I was a little more open to giving Duane a child of his own than I’d
thought.

A dark-colored car pulled
in front of the shop. Was it the one idling on the street last night? I
narrowed my eyes. I wasn’t much for make and model, but I was getting the
feeling someone was stalking me. When I moved to open the front door, the car
backed up and drove away, but not before I caught a glimpse of baby blue paint
on the bumper. With heavily tinted windows, I couldn’t make out who drove.

Goose pimples danced up
and down my arms. I’d almost come face-to-face with the person responsible for
driving Mom and I off the road. It was time to get my pink gun off the closet
shelf.

My nerves has settled by
the time I called all the numbers on the list Mom had left, letting each of the
crafters know to come into the store and sign an agreement giving Country Gifts
twenty percent of the proceeds. I spent the next hour clearing a corner of one
of the shelves so we could display the products. I’d have Lindsey make up a
cute sign when she got out of school. The girl was a whiz at Photoshop.

While I worked, my mind
wandered to the papers I’d grabbed from Mrs. Grimes’s locked drawer. I itched
to take them out and see what was so important, but knew Mom would throw a fit
if I didn’t wait for her. I watched the clock. She was already ten minutes
late. Didn’t she know the torture I was going through?

Her white monster of a
Caddy pulled into the front parking space. Since she didn’t park in the alley,
she must not plan on working all day. I met her at the door. “What took you so
long? I have some papers for us to look over. Hopefully, they’ll give us a clue
as to who killed Mrs. Grimes.”

“Why didn’t you say so
earlier? I wouldn’t have had pie.” She bustled past me.

“I also spotted the car
that I think ran us off the road. It parked in the very spot you’re in now.”

Mom sighed. “All the
exciting things happen when you’re alone.”

Not really, especially
considering she was with me when we crashed into the tree. I grabbed my purse
and pulled out the papers. The first was an invoice for text books. I’d have to
return that to the school. Another one listed what I thought was Mrs. Grimes’s
antique books. The last sheet, yellowed and tattered around the edges took my
breath away.

In my hand I held a
treasure map.