Due or Die (12 page)

“What are you going to do with Heathcliff while you’re at work today?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t really figured it out yet,” Lindsey answered. Nancy was holding out a steaming cup of coffee to her, and Lindsey took it with a grateful smile.

“Leave him with me,” Nancy said. “I’ll puppy sit for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Honestly, it’ll make me feel safer to have a barker around.”

Lindsey glanced across the yard. All of the houses on this street were old and big and sat on very large lots. She had never noticed before how isolated they all were, probably because when Charlie was in residence, the horde of musicians that came and went were nonstop, making the place feel as busy as the New Haven train station. Until now, the quiet had been a nice reprieve. Now it was just creepy.

“He’s all yours,” Lindsey said. “I took a picture of him this morning. I’m going to put up some flyers and see if anyone is missing him. Hopefully, he’ll be reunited with his people soon.”

Nancy pursed her lips but said nothing. As the puppy trotted into Nancy’s first-floor apartment, to be spoiled rotten no doubt, Lindsey raced upstairs to get ready for work, dropping off Heathcliff’s essentials with Nancy on the way out.

Things were quiet at the library. Maybe it was just the hullabaloo of the day before, or perhaps the crazy events of
the week, but Lindsey found herself relieved to be answering normal questions on the reference desk and writing up her weekly report for the mayor’s office.

It was midafternoon and she had just called Nancy to make sure the puppy was behaving—he was—when she heard two women talking over by the new-book area.

She recognized one as being on the high school PTA, but the other woman was a new face, not a regular library user. They both appeared to be in their late forties, with the requisite rounded figures and hair dyed improbable shades of blond to hide the gray.

“Well, I heard that she was having an affair,” the PTA woman whispered to the other.

“Really?” the woman asked.

“Marjorie didn’t say, but I got the feeling it was an inappropriate liaison,” the PTA woman said. “I’ll bet she was sleeping with a married man, probably one of the doctors at the hospital where she works. You know, she always works the night shift.”

The woman’s voice was sly, as if working nights was proof of anything.

“Do you think poor Markus knew?”

“I doubt it,” the other woman said. “He trusted her so completely, besides the poor man never left his house. He was disabled, you know.”

“I didn’t,” the other woman clucked. “Do you think she shot him so that she could be with her doctor?”

“I don’t know. I mean, if her doctor is married, he’d have to leave his wife, wouldn’t he?”

“Oh, I just had a horrid thought,” the other woman said. “If Carrie shot Markus to be free of him, would she shoot
her doctor if he refused to be with her or would she shoot his wife?”

“Oh, dear,” the PTA woman said. “We could have a serial killer on our hands.”

Lindsey felt her teeth set. She didn’t like gossip as a rule, especially malicious gossip about a friend. Since one of the women had mentioned Marjorie’s name, she got the feeling Batty Bilson was the one planting the seeds of the malicious talk.

Knowing that it was none of her business, Lindsey rose from her seat anyway and approached the two women.

“Good afternoon,” she said. “Was there anything you needed help finding?”

The two women looked startled at her approach, sort of like kids caught pilfering cookies out of the cookie jar when they’ve already been told it’s too close to dinner.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” the PTA woman said. She held up a current bestseller.

“Well, there’s a young adult series called
Gossip Girl
that is quite the gripping read, if you’re interested,” Lindsey said.

The PTA woman had the grace to blush while the other one gave Lindsey an irritated look and said in a rather snotty tone, “I’m fine, but thanks so much for your concern.”

“Anytime,” Lindsey smiled. Okay, it was really more a showing of teeth, but she figured she should get points for trying.

She turned and headed back to the reference desk. A glance at the circulation desk and she saw Ann Marie give her a sly thumbs-up from behind her computer.

So, Ann Marie had heard their conversation, too.

Lindsey shook her head. How could anyone believe that Carrie would cheat on her husband and kill him? Truly, it mystified, especially if Batty Bilson was the source of the gossip. Everyone knew the woman was a few slices short of a loaf; how could they listen to her?

She was not surprised to see the two women leave the library shortly thereafter. When the doors slid open again a few minutes later, she glanced up and had to smile as Edmund Sint made his way into the building, looking as if the drafty bitter air from outside was chasing him into the library’s welcoming warmth.

He unwrapped the plaid scarf from about his neck and pulled off his leather gloves as he approached the desk.

“Hi, Edmund,” Lindsey said. “What brings you in this afternoon?”

“This freezing weather has put me in the mood for a noir mystery,” he said. “Who can you recommend?”

“That depends. Are you looking for old-school Mickey Spillane or modern Ian Rankin?”

“Hmm, let’s go modern,” Edmund said.

“Follow me,” Lindsey said.

She walked him over to the fiction shelves.

“I’m surprised to find the library still open,” he said.

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked as she crouched to find the selection of Rankin titles.

“The weatherman said a nor’easter is coming,” he said. “That’s why I need to stock up on reading material in case the power goes out. Uncle Bill’s library is a dead bore. I need something to keep me entertained if we get snowed in, otherwise I’ll be stir-crazy within hours.”

“A nor’easter?”
Lindsey frowned. She had heard there was a snow storm in the forecast but nothing as dramatic as a nor’easter, which typically brought hurricane-force winds and arctic cold.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said. “I’d better go check on this.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “It’s already started snowing.”

Sure enough, now that she stood close to him, she could see the damp spots on his jacket where the snowflakes had already melted.

Lindsey hurried back to her desk. A glance at the window and she could see the swirling snow falling outside. She hadn’t really paid it much attention before. She quickly brought up the weather website on her computer and typed in the zip code for Briar Creek.

The forecast was not good: bitterly cold temperatures, gale-force winds and lots of snow. They were supposed to be open for a few more hours, but if this was just the start of it, she didn’t want her staff to have to drive home in this weather.

She quickly called the town hall to see if the mayor was available. She would close the library whether he approved or not, but she thought it wise to get his okay.

“Mayor Henson’s office, this is Judy,” his secretary answered.

“Hi, Judy, it’s Lindsey Norris at the library; is the mayor in?”

“Yes, he’s just debating whether to close the town offices for the day. Horrible storm coming, you know.”

“I do; in fact, I was just calling to ask if I could close the library.”

“
Hold one moment,” Judy said.

“Sure,” Lindsey said. No sooner were the words out than Muzak began to play in her ear. It was a slicked-out version of the Beatles’ “Let It Be,” and in her opinion, they should have.

“Hi, Lindsey,” Judy came back on the line. “The mayor says go ahead. Whiteout conditions are predicted, and he says it’s not worth anyone getting stranded in this.”

“Thanks,” Lindsey said. She hung up the phone and went over to the circulation desk. Ann Marie glanced up from the cart of books she was fine sorting.

“We’re going to close early,” Lindsey said. “There’s a nor’easter coming.”

Ann Marie gave her a wide-eyed look. “Oh, no, the last time we got hit with a storm like that, the power went out and I had to keep all of my perishables out in the snow. Never did find my whole fryer chicken until the thaw hit a few weeks later.”

Lindsey blew out a breath. She turned to assess the library. Other than Edmund, there was a mother with two children in the kids’ area, two computer users and a couple of teens looking over the DVD collection.

Lindsey cleared her throat and raised her voice to be heard throughout the room. “Due to the weather, the library will be closing in fifteen minutes. If you need to call for a ride, please come and use the phone. If you’d like to check out materials, please do so in the next few minutes.”

She saw Edmund appear from the stacks carrying several novels. He strode purposefully to the circulation desk, and Lindsey was glad he’d been able to find something.

“I’m so glad you came in today,” she said. “I didn’t
realize it was going to be this bad and I’m not sure the mayor’s office would have remembered to call us.”

“I think this storm snuck up on us all,” he said. “No one expected a tropical cyclone and an Arctic cold front to collide, but they have.”

“It can’t be worse than the blizzard of ’78,” Lindsey said. “I was only a year old, but my parents still talk about how ice coated the trees and the snow drifts were higher than the house.”

“Yeah, and people got stranded in their cars for two days,” Edmund said. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and added, “And the baby rate boomed nine months later.”

“I have two cousins who arrived nine months later,” Lindsey said with a laugh.

“You know, this storm is going to put a crimp in our lunch date,” he said.

Lindsey felt her face get warm at the word
date
, which was ridiculous. He’d invited both Carrie and her. It wasn’t as if he was asking her out.

“That’s all right,” she said. She tried to make her voice sound casual, but it still seemed to come out a bit higher than normal. “I don’t think Carrie will be able to make it for a while.”

He handed his books and card to Ann Marie for checkout and gave Lindsey an understanding nod. “I heard about what happened with her husband. Is she okay?”

“She’s getting through it,” Lindsey said.

“Do the police have any leads?”

“I really don’t know,” she said.

She glanced at Edmund. He reminded her so much of her former fiancé, back before he turned into a two-timing
jackass. Edmund was smart and charming, and she felt an immediate kinship with him, probably because she had spent her entire life around academic types and he definitely had the Ivy League stamp upon him.

A thought occurred to her and she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ask. “Listen, do you know Marjorie Bilson?”

Edmund took his books back from Ann Marie and began to wrap his scarf about his neck again. Lindsey thought she saw his jaw tighten, but when he spoke, his voice was neutral. “She seems quite taken with my uncle.”

Lindsey nodded as they walked toward the front doors. Good, then her erratic behavior might not be such a surprise.

“Has she done anything—how can I put this?”

“Crazy?” Edmund offered.

Lindsey bit her lip and nodded.

They paused before the doors, causing the remaining patrons to go around them on their way out into the whirling scene of white.

“I can’t say there’s been anything specific,” he said. “But I do know that she calls and texts him all day long. So far, he hasn’t complained, but I do wonder if he tried to put a stop to it, if she would turn on him.”

“Yikes.”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that,” he said. “Maybe if we do get snowed in with a power outage, she won’t be able to charge her phone and she’ll have to stop calling.”

“So, she’ll chill?” Lindsey offered, unable to resist the pun.

Edmund broke into a wide grin and said, “In a word.”

They stood smiling at one another and then Lindsey said, “Well, I’d better help close up.
Thanks again for coming in. Your timing was excellent.”

“No problem,” he said. The doors whooshed open behind him, but he ignored them as he said, “I’ve noticed you usually ride a bike to work, do you need a ride home today? I’d be happy to wait.”

“She has a ride home,” a voice said from behind him.

Lindsey glanced over Edmund’s shoulder to see Sully standing there in his thick navy coat, looking as bland as the blankets of snow beginning to cover the cars in the parking lot.

E
dmund spun and glanced at Sully. “Oh, well, very good, then.”

Sully held out his right hand. “Mike Sullivan.”

Edmund clasped his hand briefly. “Edmund Sint.”

Neither of them smiled, and Lindsey got the distinct feeling they were measuring one another like two dogs trying to decide if the bone was worth the fight. Utterly ridiculous.

“Are you about ready?” Sully asked her.

“Almost, I just need to get my things and set the alarm,” she said.

“No, problem I’ll wait,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said.

Edmund glanced between them and then gave her a small smile. “Be safe
in the storm and we’ll have to reschedule our lunch date for when the roads are clear.”

“Sounds good,” she said. She could feel Sully watching her, and she knew her face had just flamed hot.

Edmund gave her a mischievous grin and left the building, whistling into the snow.

“I’ll meet you out back,” Sully said. He turned and followed Edmund out.

Lindsey stood there staring for a second, wondering whether she should be flattered or offended. Finally, she decided that she was relieved that when she had seen Sully again, she hadn’t keeled over with embarrassment. She supposed she could thank Edmund for that. He had provided a nice buffer.

“Hey, boss, you coming?” Ann Marie called from the workroom.

Lindsey shook her head and went to gather her things.

Ann Marie met her at the back door with a knowing smile.

“So, it looks like you have two admirers,” she said.

“No, no.” Lindsey shook her head. “Sully is just a friend and Edmund is very nice, but I don’t know that he’s interested in me as anything more than a librarian.”