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THAT NIGHT I WAS THE one to close up. I never really minded it. There’s something nice about being in there alone with tons of books for company. And now, of course, with Fitz. He seemed tired too, despite all the napping he’d done during the day on various patrons’ laps. He was curled up on his cat bed with his tail curled around his nose. I gave him a few long rubs and heard his deep-throated purr as he lazily opened one eye to look at me before letting it drop down again.
This time I felt the same frisson of fear that happened at my house last night. I shrugged it off, irritated. I could sit at home behind closed doors 24 hours a day, but what kind of a life was that? I didn’t want to allow the note writer to make me feel worried about living my life.
I was making a quick round to make sure everything was ready for lights-out when I discovered a patron asleep in the quiet section, a pile of books in front of him. I coughed a few times, lightly, and then produced a louder and more serious-sounding cough when he continued gently snoring. He awoke with a start and gathered his books together, dropping one or two on the floor in his panicked retreat. Then I continued my sweep with renewed vigilance, hoping I wouldn’t discover anyone else lurking in the stacks. Seeing no one, I vacuumed the library really quickly for cat fur. Fortunately, Fitz, although not a huge fan of the vacuum, seemed to accept it with equanimity. I locked the doors and turned off the lights.
When I got into my car, I reviewed my food options at home. They were decidedly lacking. There was some leftover salad from a couple of days ago with the best ingredients picked out, a mac and cheese from yesterday’s lunch, and some sandwich-making stuff (and I’d had sandwiches for lunch today). I decided I would splurge and go out for dinner. It hadn’t been the easiest of weeks and I’d been pretty good with my food budget . . . aside from springing for Chinese food with Nathan.
I knew just where I planned on going, too. I remembered Roger’s sister, Heather, was a waitress. Furthermore, I remembered I’d seen her in a particular restaurant before. The restaurant Quittin’ Time was not exactly haute cuisine, but it was good solid food and you could get a meat and three vegetables for a reasonable price. Besides, I wanted to follow up with her on the fact she’d been spotted at Roger’s house on Friday afternoon.
Quittin’ Time had been around for decades. It was a family-owned restaurant in its third generation. Although the linoleum on the floors had seen better days and the vinyl covering the booths was torn in spots, the place was always immaculately clean and the service was always prompt and friendly. And, even if Heather wasn’t working, I’d still be able to walk out of there with my tummy full and have some leftovers for another meal.
The hostess got me settled into a booth and handed me an old laminated menu. When the waitress came by, I smiled. It was Heather Walton. What’s more, the restaurant wasn’t nearly as busy as it usually was, so I’d actually have a chance to talk to her.
Heather greeted me with surprise. “Well, hey there! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
I said, “Usually I’m more of a lunch person, although I’ll occasionally splurge for supper.” Then I added after some thought, “Technically, I don’t eat out all that often. But I enjoy it when I do.”
Heather nodded. “I know what you mean. How are things going? You doin’ okay after everything that happened?”
I said, “I am. But how about you?” I paused. “I don’t know how long it takes for . . . well, for the police to wrap things up, but is there a funeral coming up for Roger? I’d like to attend, if so.”
Heather gave me a big smile. “That is just so sweet of you! You didn’t even really know him. The police have wrapped up, as you say, although it was just yesterday they released Roger. The thing is, he always said he wanted to be cremated, so we’re going to follow his wishes.”
“It’s good he actually stated what his wishes were. So many people, especially young people, don’t do that,” I said.
Heather said, “True. Of course, he was really just talking off the cuff. He had no idea we would be in this position.” She blinked hard. “Sorry. Sometimes it just gets to me. I mean, he wasn’t the easiest guy sometimes, but he didn’t deserve this. He was too young—it wasn’t his time. Anyway, my mom and I are going to plan a memorial service, but it might be a while: Labor Day weekend or something. We wanted to pick a time when more of my mom’s family could fly in to attend.”
“And you’re holding up okay? And your mom?” I asked.
Heather shrugged. “Mom’s okay, I think, although it’s been hard on her. Maybe at her age she’s almost gotten used to saying goodbye to friends and family. For me, though, it’s a funny thing. Sometimes I’m fine and I’m so busy I don’t even have time to think about my brother at all. But sometimes, out of the blue, I’ll start crying—like over nothing. I was in the grocery store and saw a brand of cereal Roger and I used to love when we were kids. Man, we fought over that cereal! He always seemed to get the last helping.” Her eyes grew misty thinking about it.
I said, “I think grief is like that. It just ambushes us sometimes.” I paused and then slowly asked, “Living in a small town is pretty tough sometimes. I hate to mention this, but I thought you might want to know someone mentioned you’d been spotted at your brother’s house Friday afternoon.”
Heather looked startled and then snorted. “I shouldn’t even be surprised. Everybody knows everything in a small town. Yeah, I was there. I didn’t want to tell the cops that because I figured they’d totally shift all the blame to me and I didn’t do anything. I’m my mom’s only caregiver and I didn’t want to get arrested. I only stopped by to remind him that our mother’s birthday was in a few days and that she wanted to see him.”
“Was he there?” I asked.
“Nope. Never even answered his door. And I knew better than to call him and leave a message—he never checked his messages from me. I guess he just didn’t ever want to be put out or have to change his schedule for his family.”
“Is that why you were going by his house again when I saw you? To try again to remind him?” I asked.
“That’s right. I just figured the police wouldn’t understand.” Heather glanced around the room to make sure none of the customers needed a water refill or the check.
I said, “Did you hear about Mary Hughes?”
Heather’s gaze sharpened as she looked back at me. “Yes, I did. The cops have talked to me about that, too. And I’m sorry, although I didn’t know Mary.”
“You’d never met her?” I asked.
“No.” Heather shook her head, looking away. Somehow, I didn’t quite believe her. “I told the police the truth. That I didn’t know Mary. And that I was at home sleeping when she was murdered because I’d been working late the night before and had to close up. I’d wished I had some idea who might have killed Mary, but I’d no idea. After all, like I said, I didn’t know her.” She paused. “Have you decided what you wanted to eat?”
I’d decided on a burger and fries. In a place like Quittin’ Time, it was best to stick with the specialties of the house.
Later on, when I got back home, I let myself in my house and sighed in relief at being there. I put my takeaway bag in the fridge, figuring I could eat the rest of it tomorrow for lunch. The hamburgers at Quittin’ Time were the size of giant pancakes.
Although I never really found the library very stressful, I’d learned it was good for me to have clear boundaries and markers as to what constituted home life and work. I turned on some soft jazz music to tell myself it was time to relax. Then I poured a glass of wine and picked up my book. Finally, I had a chance to finish reading The Alchemist. I’d thought I’d have finished up days ago, which just goes to show how crazy the last few days had been.
I finished the book in no time and then pulled out my computer to pull up my reading log and record my thoughts about the book while it was fresh in my mind. I liked to have a variety of books to read because I had a variety of patrons and was regularly asked what I’d enjoyed reading lately. As usual I wryly realized my nerdiness over books was likely another reason why I wasn’t in a relationship. Sometimes I felt like I was in such a major relationship with books that there wasn’t a lot of room for anything else.
The only problem was I didn’t have anything next on my list I could immediately jump into. Then I remembered the reason I didn’t was because I was going to try to read a new release next. I listened to a couple of book-related podcasts for readers and jotted down notes on different options, making a list of books to look up the next day.
Then I glanced at my clock and blinked at the time. How had it ended up being after midnight? This shocked me enough to hurry through the motions of getting ready for bed. I guess I’d started everything late, considering I’d had to close up the library for the night. I hadn’t looked at the time once since then and I had the feeling I’d be regretting it the next morning. I regretted it earlier than that when nightmares woke me up again.
When the alarm went off, I awakened, super-groggy. Regardless, I took the time to stretch for a few minutes as a warmup. I got showered and dressed really quickly so I could have a decent breakfast instead of just a granola bar. Luckily, I had enough time to make a breakfast sandwich of avocado, Ranch dressing, sliced hard-boiled egg, and some thin provolone cheese. In the final remaining minutes, I hastily pulled out my leftovers from the night before and threw in a banana. It was a weird combination, but at least I shouldn’t be hungry.
I managed to get to the library right on time, although usually I arrived there so early that today I felt late. I ended up entering with some patrons who were quietly waiting in line for the doors to open.
“Late night?” murmured Wilson, raising an eyebrow.
I snorted. “Yes, but not like you think. This late night involved finishing a book and finding another to read.”
“Exciting stuff,” he said wryly.
I was surprised to see that my famously private patron, Linus Truman, was entering the library with me. Usually he came a bit later in the morning. Maybe Luna had really shaken him up and he was abandoning his routine.
A minute later, I was even more startled when he responded to me when I told him good morning. Now seriously unnerved, I watched him until he settled down in his usual spot with the newspaper. It was good to see not everything had been completely turned on its head.
Luna was in bright and early this morning. What was more, she had her mother with her. I greeted the lady, and she gave me a tight smile in return as she pushed her walker grimly ahead of her.
Luna carefully got her mother set up in the comfy chairs in the periodical section. She walked over to the magazines and peered at them for a few moments before hesitantly pulling out a few and putting them on the table next to the chair. Then she plugged in her mother’s laptop and cell phone and handed her mother the knitting she was working on.
“Mercy!” said Mrs. Macon crisply. “I don’t need as much stuff to do as you think! I told you I’m only spending a little while here.”
Luna’s voice was surprisingly meek. “I know, Mama. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable and have everything within reach. If you need me, just text me—don’t try to get up and walk over to the children’s section. I’ll be right over.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” said her mom shortly. She picked up her knitting pointedly.
Luna sidled up to me and said in a low voice, “She’s kind of a bear this morning, but I got her here.”
“Good,” I replied fervently. “Maybe a change of scene will do her good.”
“It sure can’t hurt,” said Luna. Then she paused. “Unless she’s so miserable that she decides never to leave her house again.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Did you mention the film club to her?”
Luna grimaced. “I did. I think her response was harrumph. I’ll be surprised if she goes. But she knows the time and the location, just in case.”
A little later that morning, my old professor, Nathan, walked into the library and right up to me at the desk.
“Good to see you this morning, Nathan,” I said, smiling at him.
He smiled back. “Yes, I thought I’d just check out a couple of books on gardening. I’m going to expand my garden and wanted some fresh ideas.”
“It’s hard to imagine you don’t already know everything there is to know about gardening in this area,” I said. Nathan had created a beautiful garden at his old house—with beautiful shrubbery and flowers and a vegetable garden, to boot. His wife had also been a gardening enthusiast. “In fact, I was going to ask you some questions about what to add to my garden. All I’ve been doing lately is just keeping up with the weeds and watering the plants. My great-aunt was such a genius with gardening and I don’t want to destroy her legacy.”
“From what I’ve seen, I think you’re doing a fine job keeping all her plants in good health. How about if I come by the house one day soon and take a look at your yard? I can’t remember off the top of my head what you’ve already got planted and how much sun and shade you have,” he offered.
“Sounds good,” I said with a smile. “I could really use the advice. I owe you one.”
“No, we’re even. Remember, you paid for the Chinese food the other day.”
I said, “Somehow I don’t think that’s still even. But thank you.”
I expected Nathan to give me a friendly goodbye and then head off to the stacks to find the books. But this time he hesitated.
“Anything else you’re looking for?” I asked.
He said with a rueful smile, “I was actually curious to hear how the case was going. Have you spoken to Chief Edison lately? The more I think about Roger, the more I feel sort of sorry for him.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Sorry for him? After what happened?”
“Yeah, but let’s face it—I could have tracked that stock a little better on my end. And I didn’t have to be such a trusting schmuck, either. Besides, he was a young man with his whole life ahead of him. What happened to him was a real travesty,” said Nathan.
I said slowly, “It’s been a crazy couple of days. I received this letter at the library, warning me off from poking around in Roger’s death.”
“What?” Nathan’s eyebrows shot up and then knit together as he glowered at the very idea of someone threatening me.
I told him what had arrived. “It didn’t really bother me, except to tell me someone seemed to think I might be dangerous to them.” Nathan still looked worried and so I tacked on, “Besides, I’d just had that self-defense course from the chief himself.”
“Well, that makes me feel slightly better,” he said.
I filled him in on some of what we’d learned. “It was a successful class. I wasn’t sure how many attendees we were going to have since Whitby seems like such a small, safe place. But we had enough that I’m going to ask the chief to repeat the class again.”
Nathan said, “Maybe the fact that there was a murder here drove the number of attendees up.”
“That’s true. And now there have been two murders, so . . .” I saw Nathan’s look of surprise and said, “Oh, you didn’t know about Mary.”
“Not Mary Hughes! We were just talking about her.”