Due or Die (22 page)

“Shoot,” he said. He pulled his tape measure off his belt and began to measure the opening to the existing drop.

“You were recommended to me by Carrie Rushton,” she said. She saw him go still at the name, and she hurried ahead so that he didn’t cut her off. “You did some work for them?”

“Tiled a bathroom,” he said. He began measuring again,
but Lindsey could see the tension in his shoulders. “Nice lady, Mrs. Rushton.”

“She is,” Lindsey said. “She’s the president of our Friends of the Library.”

Clyde said nothing, so she tried to sound casual as she continued, “Terrible tragedy to lose her husband like that.”

He pulled a pad out of his back pocket and jotted down some numbers. “I suppose that depends upon whether you consider his loss an actual loss.”

Lindsey held her breath for a moment. Was he going to say more? What could she say to encourage him? She decided to go for it.

“Do you consider it a loss?”

“Look, me and Mr. Rushton, we didn’t get on, as anyone will tell you,” he said. “Do I think he should have been shot? Hell, no. But do I think it’s a real tragedy? Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t. That man was lazy, selfish and mean. Mrs. Rushton is a real nice lady. She deserves better than him.”

Lindsey nodded. She couldn’t argue the point.

“Is that why you really called me out here? To find out if I’m a murderer?” he asked. He looked over his pad at her. His brown eyes were shrewd, and Lindsey felt a telling heat warm her cheeks.

“I
really do need the book drop fixed,” she said. It sounded lame even to her.

“Uh-huh,” he said. Instead of anger, his voice was full of disappointment, which stung much worse than if he’d been angry. “I’ll get that estimate to you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she said.

He walked around her, but in the doorway, he stopped and turned around.

“For what it’s worth, I was working a job out at the cottages, a kitchen remodel, at the time of Rushton’s death.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to—” she began but he cut her off.

“Yeah, you did.”

Lindsey cringed. She was so busted. Her pained expression must have amused him, because he added, “It’s all
right. Everyone knows me and Rushton were on the outs. The police asked me where I was, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said.

Clyde shrugged as if it were no big deal, but she still felt bad that she had offended him. She watched him head toward his pickup truck. As he drove off, Beth appeared at her elbow.

“What was Clyde Perkins doing here?”

“I’m going to hire him to fix the book drop so that no puppies or any other critters can be shoved in it again.”

“Good idea,” Beth said.

“I also completely offended him by asking him about Markus Rushton’s murder.”

“You didn’t!” Beth said.

“’Fraid so.” Lindsey blew out a breath. “I was just following up on the incident that happened between him and Markus over the bathroom tile.”

“How did he take it?” Beth asked.

“I think I hurt his feelings,” Lindsey said.

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Wow, we need to work on your interrogation skills,” Beth said. “You’re supposed to get suspects to confess, not wind up feeling guilty that you’ve offended them.”

“Or maybe I just need to mind my own business,” Lindsey said with a sigh.

Beth smiled. “Nah, it’s not in your nature.”

“Clyde likes Dean Koontz, doesn’t he?” she asked. “Maybe I can make sure he’s first on the list for the next Koontz book to come out.”

“I’m sure that would help,” Beth said.

“Hey, what do you mean that’s not in my nature?” Lindsey asked.

“Oh, there are so many examples to choose from,” Beth said, tapping her chin with her forefinger.

Suddenly, Lindsey was not so sure she wanted to hear it. She led the way out of the book drop and closed the door behind them. She walked toward the break room, hoping there was some go juice in the communal coffeepot to get her through the long afternoon. Beth walked beside her, obviously having no intention of going back to the children’s area as yet.

Lindsey glanced over at the enchanted island, hoping to see a patron or five needing Beth. There were none. Darn it!

Lindsey lifted the pot out of its holder and looked at the sludge in the bottom of the glass carafe. She poured the thick residue out and began to make a fresh pot.

“Let’s see,” Beth said. “How about when Tammy Jankowski wasn’t going to graduate with us because they said she was a credit short?”

“What was wrong with that?” Lindsey asked.

“You stormed the registrar’s office. You threatened to have their job if they didn’t own up to their mistake.”

“It’s not my fault they didn’t add up her class credits right,” Lindsey said. “They were messing with her future. She had a job lined up, and if she didn’t get her diploma on time, she would have been out of a job. They are darn lucky she didn’t sue them.”

“True, but my point is that you were not exactly minding your own business there.”

“Point taken, but Tammy was so painfully shy, she needed someone to give her backup.”

“Uh-huh,
and then there was the time your boss put in that time clock, and your coworker, what was her name?”

“Gina,” Lindsey said with a sigh.

“Gina was always late, so you would punch her card for her,” Beth said.

“Hey, she always stayed late to make it up. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done it for her, but she was a single mom and she needed a break,” Lindsey said.

“Yes, but the point is that you are incapable of not helping a person in distress,” Beth said. “Especially, if you think a wrong has been done. Look at how you helped me when I was being accused of murder.”

Finally, the coffee was ready and Lindsey poured two cups and held one out to Beth.

“Maybe I need therapy,” she said.

“Nah, I like you the way you are, flaws and all,” Beth said with a wink. She left the break room and Lindsey pondered the beverage in her cup. Was it true? Was she incapable of not helping a person in distress? Or was she just a big buttinsky?

“Knock, knock,” a voice called at the door.

Lindsey glanced up to see Edmund Sint standing there.

He was wearing a charcoal gray wool trench coat with his usual plaid cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck. He reminded Lindsey so much of her ex that she had to shake her head to dislodge the image of John from her mind.

“Hi, Edmund,” she said. “How are you?”

“Bored to death and looking for a lunch date,” he said. “I know it’s spur of the moment, but can you get away?”

Lindsey glanced at the clock. It was lunchtime. She
needed to eat. She felt reluctant to go with Edmund, and she knew it was because he did remind her of her ex, which was unfair to him, but also because she knew she had feelings for Sully, and to encourage anyone else just seemed wrong.

“It’s just lunch,” Edmund said as if he was aware of her internal struggle. “You are allowed to eat, aren’t you?”

Lindsey felt caught by his charming smile. He was right. She had to eat. It was only lunch. And besides, it wasn’t as if Sully had even asked her out. To pine for him would be ridiculous.

“Sure, I am,” she said. “I’ll just go get my coat.”

She hurried back to her office and took her coat off the rack by the door. She grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer and met Edmund by the door.

“My car is around the corner,” he said.

He let her lead the way out of the library and down the walkway to the left. His car was waiting around the corner. It was a steel gray Jaguar with a wood dashboard and leather seats. Very nice.

“Lindsey!” a voice called form the parking lot. “Lindsey, wait!”

Edmund was holding the passenger door open for her, but she turned around and saw Carrie hurrying down the shoveled walk toward her. She had a file folder tucked under one arm, and her son, Kyle, was striding behind her with a grim expression on his face.

“Excuse me for one moment,” Lindsey said to Edmund. He nodded as if he understood, and she hurried to meet her friend.

“Carrie, what is it? Is everything okay?”

Carrie was panting, so Kyle leaned around her and said, “No, it isn’t. I went over the files for the Friends this morning, and I found some monumental discrepancies. I think someone has been stealing from the Friends of the Library.”

“H
ush, Kyle, we don’t know anything for certain,” Carrie said. She glanced over Lindsey’s shoulder, and Lindsey turned and saw Edmund waiting for her by the car. “I’m sorry, Lindsey, it looks as if you had plans. This can wait.”

“No, it’s all right,” Lindsey said. “It was just an off-the-cuff thing. I can reschedule. Go ahead to my office and I’ll meet you there.”

She turned and hurried back to Edmund.

“I’m so sorry,” she began, but he cut her off.

“It’s all right. I imagine being in charge of a place like this keeps your schedule constantly shifting and changing. We’ll do it another time.”

“Thank you,” she said.

She hurried back to her office, where she found Kyle
and Carrie waiting for her. Carrie pulled some paperwork out of the folder while she hung up her coat.

“Kim, Kyle and I went out to the shed today to do an inventory,” Carrie said.

“In this cold?” Lindsey asked.

“We felt the need to keep busy,” Carrie said. She didn’t elaborate but Lindsey suspected now that they were all together, the reality of Markus’s death was hard to ignore.

“Anyway, Mimi came by with the inventory list of items in storage that I had requested, so it just seemed like a good time to get it done.”

“Kim and I were happy to help,” Kyle said.

Lindsey sat at her desk. “So, what did you discover?”

“It’s what we didn’t discover,” Carrie said. “We went through every box, but the rare books that are on the list and supposed to be in the warehouse aren’t.”

“The list includes ten first-edition, signed classics from the William Culpepper collection,” Kyle said. “They are said to be worth thousands.”

“And they were put in storage like that?” Lindsey felt her archivist’s soul shrivel at the thought of the heat of summer, the damp of spring and the cold of winter damaging the fragile books.

“As far as Mimi knows,” Carrie said with a frown. “I did call Bill to see if they were kept elsewhere, but he hasn’t returned my call.”

“What about those boxes you had the night you became president?” Lindsey asked. Carrie looked confused, as if she didn’t remember. Then her face cleared. “Oh, yeah, Warren gave me those. He said he didn’t want to be entrusted with them anymore. At the time, I didn’t think much of it.”

“That sounds promising,” Kyle said. “Like they’re of value.”

Lindsey glanced at the clock. “Let’s go to the house. Maybe we can resolve this just by looking in those boxes.”

Kyle hopped up immediately, but Carrie stayed in her seat, looking pale and nervous.

“I haven’t been back since…” Her voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat. “That is, shouldn’t we wait until Kim can come with us?”

“She’s learning to knit with Nancy,” Kyle said. “Besides, you know how sensitive she is. We should probably check it out before she goes inside.”

Carrie nodded. She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine.

“All right. The police called and told me they were done. I suppose we might as well go and get it over with.”

Kyle drove them in Carrie’s car, which was good, because with each passing mile, she became even more tense.

He parked in the drive in front of the house. Someone had plowed the drive, but the walkway was matted from the many footprints of the police and the investigators coming and going. They picked their way to the door, avoiding the spots where ice had formed. Carrie took her keys from her son and unlocked the door.

She pushed the door open and they stepped into the foyer. Lindsey flashed back to the last time she had stood here. The house had been warm, the lights were on and Sully had been beside her. Not this time. The house was cold and dark and, frankly, creepy.

Carrie snapped on a light and led the way up the stairs. When she got to the top, she let out a gasp and stepped back.
She would have fallen down the steps if Kyle hadn’t braced her with a hand at her back.

He looked over her shoulder and then turned to Lindsey and said, “Call the police.”

Lindsey peeked around them both and saw what had startled Carrie. The Rushton house had been thoroughly ransacked. No police investigation could have caused this much damage.

In a quick glance, Lindsey took in the scattered papers and open drawers and cabinets. Even the closet she and Sully had put the boxes of books in had been left with its door hanging open and its contents strewn on the floor. Lindsey quickly glanced down and noted that the spot where the boxes had been was empty.

The police arrived within twenty minutes. Not wanting to disturb anything, the three of them waited outside and met Emma and Chief Daniels when they pulled up behind Carrie’s car. Chief Daniels’s face was grim as Carrie reported what they had seen.

They watched the two officers disappear into the house and Carrie sighed. “I’m beginning to feel as if the drama will never end.”

Kyle put his arm around his mom’s shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug. Lindsey was glad Carrie had him to support her. As if it wasn’t bad enough that her husband had been killed in that house, now it appeared that everything she owned had been looted.

The neighbor in the house on the left came out to see them. Her coat was unbuttoned and she wore gloves but no hat or scarf, so she must have been in a rush to get to them.

She was somewhere in the midst of middle age, with her short hair more gray than brown, and she was sturdy, as if built to withstand what the years had dished out at her.

She hugged both Carrie and Kyle and shook Lindsey’s hand. Lindsey had seen her before in the library. Her name was Marcia, and she was a big fan of cozy mysteries and frequently checked out the latest food-related mysteries by Cleo Coyle and Krista Davis.