For fifteen minutes, I alternated between pacing and sitting on the bench outside Calendar's police station. It wasn't Karen's confession that made me want to talk to Detective Logan -- I couldn't imagine my long-time friend swatting a fly never mind stabbing Lance to death, no matter how tempted she might be -- but the issue about the book. It was strange the detective never mentioned finding an antique book. Of course, there was the possibility that he had and simply didn't mention it to me.
I stood up and huffed, uncertain whether I would be wasting my time as well as the detective's by going outside. Behind me someone cleared their throat, then a voice said, "Are you coming in or what?"
Wheeling around, I gasped. Detective Logan stood there, his hands thrust into his pockets, and a frown creasing his forehead.
"You've been standing here a while. I saw you from the front desk," he said, pointing to the doors leading into the station. "Did you want to speak to me about something?"
"Um, yes. That is, I think so. I'm Tess Hern--"
"I remember," he cut in. "Come inside to my office. We can talk there."
"It might be nothing."
"Or it might be something. It's obviously worrying you so you might as well spill whatever it is."
I followed the detective inside and he showed me into a small office. He moved a stack of files from the chair and indicated I should sit. He dumped the files on his desk before he took the chair behind it. "What can I do for you?" he asked, relaxing but not removing his jacket.
"I remembered when I saw Lance on the mezzanine, he took a book from one of the shelves and put it in his jacket. I was so annoyed and embarrassed that people overheard our argument, that when he left, I didn't think to ask him where he was going with the book."
"A book? Like a paperback?"
I smiled. "No. Have you ever been in the museum?"
"Recently?" Detective Logan raised his eyebrows.
"I meant before last night."
"Not in a long while but I've toured it a few times over the years."
"Perhaps you visited before the mezzanine was closed to visitors?" I asked and he frowned as though thinking before he gave a non-committal shrug of his shoulders. "The library was bequeathed to the town as part of the contents of the house and many of the books are very old. Some are rare first editions and quite valuable."
"How valuable?"
"Many run into hundreds of dollars but we have some even more valuable than that. The first editions are worth thousands along with some signed editions and rare misprints. Those were removed from the library shelves to display cases a few years ago. Some of the books have a more personal status that's hard to put a value on."
"What does that mean?"
"Some of the children of the house wrote their names in the books. There's an old Bible with generations of names in a family tree and other little notes too. They probably aren't worth very much but they have historical and social interest."
"If they're so valuable, why not keep them on display?"
"Because there're just too many books to put into storage or keep in display cases so we settle for regular inventories instead. Plus, the mezzanine is closed to visitors and there's always a volunteer in the library to monitor that."
"Okay," said the detective, his patience apparently wearing thin.
"Did Lance have a book on his person when you examined him?" I asked.
Detective Logan fixed me with a long look. Finally, just when I wanted to squirm under his gaze, he said, "No, he didn't."
"Could he have dropped it somewhere near his body when he was... uh..." I trailed off, squirming more now.
"I went over the whole room myself and I didn't find a single book. Is it valuable?"
"I don't know. I don't know which book he took."
"You make it sound like he was doing something unusual. Was he?"
"That's partly why I'm troubled by it. There was no reason I can think of for Lance to remove any books from the library. We only do so if there's a particular book required as part of an exhibition or if we're loaning it to another institution. Even then, only Artie or I would collect it. That wasn't part of Lance's duties."
"Perhaps he wanted something to read?"
"Lance was a film guy, not a reader. He said reading was boring."
"Could he have taken it to his office for any reason?"
"I suppose so but again, I can't think of why. We didn't have any loan requests outstanding. A loan request is when another institution asks to borrow something of ours, or someone wishes to study an object," I explained.
"He could have returned it."
"I guess but unless someone saw him on the mezzanine after he was with me, I don't see how he could have."
"And you don't know the title of the book?"
"No. I could figure it out if I had access to the library."
"Is there any possibility Lance might have stolen it?"
I paused. Before Karen told me about Lance opening display cases, I would have said no, but now I couldn't be sure. Yet, I couldn't say any of that to the detective without possibly incriminating Karen.
"You thought of something," said Detective Logan.
"I was just wondering," I said, brushing aside his astute observation. "I don't like to think Lance would have stolen from the museum but I guess it's possible."
"The museum will be cleared for access soon. I have some other leads to follow this afternoon but why don't we meet at the museum and we can take a look in his office together and also on the mezzanine?"
"I'd appreciate that, thank you. I have a list on my computer at the museum with the books organized by each shelf so I should be able to work out what's missing very quickly." I stood and as I did, the detective passed me a card.
"I already have your number," I told him.
"This is a crime scene cleaning business," he said. "They're based in Hallowell but they'll come out here. I'm sure the museum would rather hire a professional."
I grimaced. "Oh, yes. Of course. I'll pass it along to my boss." I stopped at the door, turning, surprised to see Detective Logan had followed me there. I hadn't heard him move. "Thanks for not saying I'm being silly or it's nothing."
"I like to keep an open mind," he said. "There's one last thing. I spoke to Ethan Ray yesterday and he says he didn't join you on the tour until at least a few minutes after your argument with Lance. You met him downstairs."
"That's right. I'm not sure how long after it was but not long."
"Were you with anyone during those few minutes?"
"No. I took a few minutes alone to calm down."
"And where was Lance during that time?"
"I have no idea. I lost him as soon as he stepped out of the mezzanine and into the hallway."
Detective Logan gave me that long, cool look again. Then he said, "I'll meet you at the museum tomorrow."
~
"Oh, Tess!" My friend, Janey Packton, sat on my couch and shook her head, laughing. The French doors were open to the garden and the cool, early summer breeze brought in delicious scents from my yard. I wasn't the gardener. That was my younger daughter, Brooke, who planned to study horticulture at university. Since I did not have green thumbs, I gave her a small budget and unleashed her on our small yard. Within a year, she transformed it into a lush oasis of color and texture, perfect for enjoying moments like these. I did, however, insist on getting Nate Minoso to lay a circular paved patio for our garden furniture but Brooke even objected to his designing that.
"Don't 'Oh, Tess' me!" I protested.
"I have to agree with Karen, Ethan asked you on a date. Tim is friends with him. He's cute. You should call him up and say you changed your mind."
"Hmm, I don't know."
"When was the last time you went on a date?" asked Janey.
"Last month!"
She fixed me with a disbelieving look. "Really?"
"Okay, seven months ago." I shuddered. The man in question was a tourist visiting the museum on a family trip with his siblings. We'd gone for drinks and he spent a whole hour telling me how boring small towns were and he couldn't imagine rotting away in one. Then he mentioned how hard it was dating especially since there were so many “desperate single moms” out there. Since I couldn't imagine anyone being desperate for his company, this single mom made an excuse, went home and blocked his number.
"You should start dating."
"You sound like Leah and Brooke."
"I sound like everyone you know," laughed Janey. "It'll be fun. I met Tim and he's great."
"He is great," I agreed. Janey and Tim worked together at The Maple Tree Hotel and although they hadn't been dating long, everything seemed to be going well for them.
"And things have never been better since I met him. I got promoted at work with a raise to match and Tim loves the kids. Life can change for you too."
"I don't want my life to change. I like my life."
"But do you love it?" Janey pressed.
I thought about it. Of course, I wanted the promotion and yesterday that was ripped from under my feet. Now with the post available again -- a thought that gave me a horrible guilty feeling -- I wasn't sure I wanted it by potential default. The extra money wouldn't hurt. I could plan a bigger vacation with the girls and treat them to a trip to the city, things we didn't often have the money for. It would be nice to have some adult company too, although I had a nice collection of friends. As for romance? I'd never been the “wine and dine” type but would it be so bad to hold hands with an attractive man? To feel that rush of excitement? In only a few years, both Leah and Brooke would be away at college and my home would be empty... I let the thought trail off. I couldn't imagine life without them. Perhaps thinking ahead wouldn't be such a bad thing.
"Anyway, enough about that. You know the real reason I'm here."
"Nope," I lied, although I had a pretty good idea that the news of Lance's murder had already spread around our small town.
"Who killed Lance Fleming?" she asked. Before I could reply, she continued, "I don't know how Detective Logan will solve this. He's a clever man but there must be a queue of people who wanted to see Lance snuffed out. How does he weed though so many suspects?"
"Do you think there's that many people who would actually kill Lance?"
Janey raised her eyebrows. "Have you met him?"
I laughed.
She continued, "When Lance first came to Calendar, he stayed at the hotel for two weeks. The only person to upset that many people since him was that awful woman who got killed there back in March. He never stopped reminding us that he stayed at wonderful hotels around the world and our little hick town hotel couldn't compete."
"Your hotel is delightful!"
"I know! If he hadn't moved into an apartment, I think all our staff would be on the suspect list. Fortunately, I haven't seen Lance in a few weeks but Don, the Deputy Day Manager, said Lance almost hit him in his car speeding out of town two weeks ago."
"He did?"
Janey nodded. "Don said he looked like he was in a real hurry. He hoped that he was leaving for good but no such luck... oh. Oops," she grimaced, realizing what she just said.
"The board told me Lance was promoted to Manager," I told her.
Janey's mouth dropped. "No. Way."
"It's true. He came to my office acting all nice, said the board wanted to see me and wished me luck. I thought that was weird but I figured he was kissing ass since I was about to officially become Manager. Then, when I got there, they told me they gave the job to Lance."
"But... how?"
"I truly don't know. Even Artie was shocked."
"I'll bet he was. I got the impression he didn't like Lance one bit."
"I know but Artie was always very professional about it. He's not an easy man to rattle."
"He sounded rattled last week when I overheard him talking to... Oh, you know, I probably shouldn't say. You'll think I'm gossiping."
"Not at all. What did you overhear Artie say?"
"It's awful, now that I think about it."
"Janey..."
Janey huffed a breath. "I came to the museum last week to see if you wanted to go for lunch. It was pretty quiet and Karen said I could go up to your office. You weren't there so I wrote you a note but as I was leaving it I could hear Artie's voice. It was that day when it was really warm and your window was open and I guess his was too because I heard him on the phone. He must have been because I couldn't hear what the other person said at all."
"I remember getting the note. Wednesday?"
"That's right. I know it was wrong but I heard Lance's name and he's such a jerk that I listened. Artie said Lance was nothing but trouble and one day someone was going to give him exactly what he deserved and he was tempted to do it himself."
"That's not exactly a declaration of intent," I pointed out.
"I know but then Artie said since he was an old man and well liked, he'd get away with teaching Lance a lesson."
I pulled a face. "Oh."
"I'm sure it's nothing. Artie would never... or would he?"
"I don't think so. Plus, I'm sure he was surrounded by people all evening given that it was also his party. He was probably just letting off steam when he thought no one was around," I said. Artie hadn't mentioned anything to me last week about being frustrated with Lance but I'd been preoccupied with getting the files ready for the audit we needed to conduct at the end of the month. I wondered who Artie was talking to. Certainly not someone at the museum. Whom then? A board member? His wife? And what did Lance do to incur his ire?
"At least you have an alibi, my friend," said Janey, smiling now. "Everyone saw you, right?"
"Most of the evening, yes, but everyone also witnessed me having a big fight with Lance, saying something I shouldn't have, not to mention a small amount of time where I was alone. Detective Logan questioned me about it again today."
"He can't possibly think you killed Lance!"
That was the problem. I thought there was a very real possibility he did think I killed Lance. I had the motive; everyone heard me threatening him for getting the promotion. I had the means to get the dagger his killer used and I had the opportunity in those few minutes to kill him in a rage and rush back to the party to give Ethan the tour. Yet Artie and Karen also appeared to have the motive, means and opportunity.
Could I trust Detective Logan to look beyond what must appear so obvious to him? I wasn't sure, but I knew I couldn’t to wait around to see. I had a killer to find.