Reap What You Sew (21 page)

Her face grew warm as she met Milo’s questioning eyes. “I’m so sorry. I guess I got a little distracted just now.”

“You guess?” he asked.

“It happens sometimes, son.” Rita pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

Tori watched her future mother-in-law walk away, the guilt over being late suddenly overrun by a more all-encompassing guilt. Nervously, she unfolded the napkin at her spot and dropped it into her lap before meeting Milo’s troubled gaze. “I’m sorry, Milo, I really am.”

“You still want this, right?”

She drew back. “You mean the wedding?”

“To me,” he added.

She reached across the table, sandwiched his hand between hers. “There’s nothing I want more.”

His shoulders dipped in relief. “Phew.”

“How could you even think I wouldn’t want to marry you?” she whispered through a voice suddenly ripe with emotion.

He shrugged. “Let’s be honest. It took you a while to even accept and—”

“I explained all of that.”

“You did. But then, when it comes time to make some plans, you forget. And when you’re finally here, you check out in the middle of a conversation.”

It was hard to argue with the truth. However, the reason for her missteps had nothing whatsoever to do with marrying him and absolutely everything to do with the glare from yet another murder in good old Sweet Briar, South Carolina.

She glanced from Milo to the nearby table and back again, her vow to keep Chief Dallas’s visit to herself for the day falling by the wayside. “I wasn’t late today because I forgot. I was late because I was being given the third degree in my kitchen.”

“Third degree?” Milo parroted.

“By Chief Dallas.”

Understanding dawned on Milo’s face. “Man, I’m sorry, Tori. You should have called, I’d have come right over.”

“And done what?”

“I don’t know. Ask him a few questions back… demand he leave you alone… be there to support you.”

Tori dropped her voice to a near whisper. “This will go away.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

She inhaled slowly. “It has to. Because I don’t believe Leona had anything to do with Anita’s death. She doesn’t have it in her.”

Silence settled around them momentarily as Milo seemed to ponder Tori’s words. “
Someone
does.”

“Someone does, indeed,” she whispered as her focus shifted, once again, to the threesome sitting less than ten feet away. Hatred and revenge were powerful motives for murder. Therefore, Margot, Glenda, and Todd had more than earned their spot on her list of viable suspects in Anita Belise’s death. Whether it was an all-inclusive list, though, remained to be seen. But if it wasn’t one of them, Tori suspected the killer wasn’t far.

“We can put the wedding on hold if that will help.”

She looked back at Milo. “Why would we do that?”

A knowing smile spread across his face, stopping just short of his eyes. “Because you have a murder to investigate.”

Her heart fluttered. “I do. But, I’m a rather accomplished multitasker when I put my mind to it. Just ask Nina. Or Dixie.”

Flipping his hand inside hers, they entwined fingers. “You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered. “Except saying yes to you.”

Chapter 18

She suspected she looked like a drowned rat, sitting there, on a park bench, waiting for Todd to emerge. But the last time she checked, desperate times called for desperate measures.

The hardest part so far, though, had been convincing Rita she didn’t need a ride home from the restaurant despite the sideways rain that pelted their faces the second they stepped outside. In fact, it was only after Tori assured her future mother-in-law that she needed to stay behind in order to help a friend that the woman had reluctantly climbed into Milo’s car and waved good-bye.

Yet now that she thought about it, perhaps she should have waited. Surely there would be another opportunity to question Todd out of earshot from his coworkers, right?

Before she could give the notion of hailing a cab from five towns over much consideration, Todd stepped from the restaurant and popped his umbrella into the air.

Hmmm. An umbrella. Genius…

Squaring her shoulders, she stood. “Got room under there for one very wet librarian?”

Todd’s eyes widened. “Tori?”

“That’s me.” She swiped the back of her hand across her wet face and released a well-timed shiver. “A very wet, very pathetic me.”

His long arm moved to cover her with the umbrella. “Didn’t I see you inside having lunch with friends?”

She sidled up close beneath the canopy and nodded. “That was my fiancé and his mom, actually.”

“And they left you behind in the rain?”

Uh-oh…

She racked her brain for a story that would sound even halfway feasible. “Um, well, I”—she glanced up, took in the various storefronts surrounding the town square—“had a few errands I wanted to run.”

“Those were some fast errands. They couldn’t wait for you?”

“I—I got a call. From the library. Dixie needs me to come in.” Oh, how she hated to lie…

“Oh. Okay, then.” Extending his index finger outward, Todd began walking, his ultralong legs necessitating a virtual trot from Tori. “The library is over there, right?”

She followed the path made by his finger and nodded. “Have you been inside?”

“I haven’t had time. Though, with the way things are now, I could probably use a book or three to keep me busy while the studio execs decide when or if we resume filming.”

There was so much she wanted to ask, questions she wanted to hurl in his direction, one after the other. But it was better to take things slow. To build a sense of camaraderie with occasional questions scattered in along the way. If all went well, she’d still get the same information, maybe even more.

“What kind of books do you like?” They crossed the street and followed the sidewalk that bordered the west side of the square, the trailers and tents associated with the movie set at their backs. “Fiction? Nonfiction?”

“I prefer nonfiction, mostly. Though there’s a fiction title I’ve been meaning to read.”

“Oh?” She broke into a near run to keep pace with Todd as they reached the spot in the sidewalk where they could either turn right and follow the square or head across the road to the library. “What’s that?”

He cleared his throat.
“Memories of Autumn.”

She stopped in the middle of the road, rain smacking her face as Todd and his umbrella continued on. “
Memories of Autumn
? Are you serious?”

Todd spun around when his foot hit the next sidewalk, alone. “You’re getting wet just standing there.”

“Yeah, but you just said you haven’t read the book your movie is based on.”

He shrugged and held out the umbrella. “Trust me, I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one.”

“Wow.” She joined him once again. “Well, I’ll see what I can do about finding it, but no promises.”

His legs slowed to a more normal pace as they approached the building, his head peeking out from their covering. “This is one very cool building. How old is it?”

“Over a hundred years old,” she said as she motioned toward the stone stairs that would take them to the front door. “It’s been renovated a time or two in the years since, but the structure, of course, remains the same.”

He followed her up the stairs, holding the umbrella over her head instead of his own. “People still come here much?”

She stopped at the door. “Of course. It’s a library.”

“Yeah and most people are doing things online these days—research, newspapers, e-books, you name it. Seems the notion of a library is becoming rather obsolete.”

“Bite your tongue.” She tugged the door open and waited as he closed the umbrella and stowed it beneath an overhang. “A library is like any other business. We need to adapt to people’s needs, find new ways to be appealing, that’s all.”

“Such as?”

She led the way inside, hushing her voice as she did. “Well, that’s a work in progress. But, so far, we’ve added a children’s room that provides our youngest patrons with a place to act out their favorite stories, we’ve started a teen book club that’s made the notion of reading more hip for the high school set, and we have a program set up with some of the assisted living facilities in the area to bring their book requests
to
them.”

Dixie looked up as they approached, irritation chasing the smile from her pencil-thin lips.

Tori met the former librarian’s narrowed gaze. “I’m sorry it took so long to get here. I guess the rain slowed us down a bit.”

“Us?”

“Yes, yes, this is Todd…” She stared up at the man standing beside her, the volume of information she didn’t know about this particular murder suspect staggering. “I’m sorry Todd, I don’t know your last name.”

“McNamara.” With a quick duck of his head in Dixie’s direction, the man, who was no more than a year or so younger than Tori, rocked back on his heels and scanned the room. “I think this is the first library I’ve been in since I was like five or something.”

And just like that, Dixie forgot all about Tori showing up on her day off and focused, instead, on the potential patron in her midst. “Then you’ve been missing out, young man. Come…”

For a moment Todd looked as if he was about to protest, but, in the end, followed along behind Dixie’s stout frame like a soldier falling into step behind his commander. Tori watched them head down the hallway toward the children’s room, a familiar excitement bubbling up inside her chest. It had been nearly two years since she’d transformed the library’s storage room into a space for young readers, but she still found it just as exciting as ever when she knew someone was about to see it for the very first time. Especially someone with a creative bent, someone who would enjoy all of the details that took the room from nice to memorable.

Details…

Shaking her head, Tori forced her thoughts back where they needed to be—on Todd as a potential suspect.

She stepped behind the information desk and grabbed a pencil and a slip of paper. Slipping onto the stool, Tori began listing the things she knew about Todd… .

1.
His last name was McNamara.

2.
He…

She paused. He, what? He was tall? He wore a lanyard name tag around his neck at work? He plucked extras from a line?

Groaning, she crumpled the slip of paper in her hand and threw it into a nearby wastebasket. She knew nothing. Nothing of any consequence, anyway.

But that was about to change. Come hell or high—

“Wow, that room is really cool.”

She straightened up, mingling glances with Todd as she did. “What was your favorite part?”

“The murals. Those kids did a great job.”

“They did, didn’t they?” She swiveled on her stool and settled her hands on the keyboard of the main computer. “Shall I check on that book for you?”

He nodded.

“What book is that?” Dixie asked, her feet moving toward the bookshelves before Tori had time to digest her question let alone formulate an answer. “Perhaps I know if we have it.”

She put words to the letters she typed on the screen.
“Memories of Autumn.”

Dixie stopped in her tracks, pinned Todd with wide eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

Todd laughed. “Oh, I’m serious.”

The former librarian tsked beneath her breath. “How long has this movie been in the works?”

“The book was optioned two years ago. The screenplay was completed about six months ago. Roles were cast shortly thereafter. I got the call about a month ago.”

“A month is more than enough time to read a 350-page novel, young man.”

Tori peeked around the computer monitor, mouthed an apology in Todd’s direction. If he was bothered by the grilling he was getting, though, he didn’t let it show. In fact, if the slight rise to his eyebrows was any indication, he seemed to be enjoying Dixie’s persistence.

“True.” He widened his stance. “But during that time, I had to pack up enough belongings to be gone for however long we’re on location, put a hold on my mail, find a sitter for my dog, attend planning meetings ad nauseam, and oversee all the phone calls that had to happen to make a location shoot possible. By the time I finished each day, I was too tired to think, let alone read.”

“Do you enjoy it?” She hadn’t planned to ask the question, yet somehow, it was there, on the tip of her tongue at the exact moment Dixie spun around on her penny loafers and disappeared into the aisle formed by the third and fourth shelves.

“Most of the time, sure.” Todd made his way around the outer edge of the information desk’s circular countertop and propped himself against the opening. “There’s something exciting about taking something that’s purely on paper—in script form—and turning it into something much bigger.”

Abandoning the keyboard altogether, she turned on her stool to afford a better view of Todd. “That’s how I felt about the children’s room. It started as this idea I’d carried around in my thoughts for years. But when it finally became a reality it was… it was
magical
.”