The night air was cool and breezy, and somehow that felt perfect, like it was lifting something inside me that needed to be buoyed a bit before I heard the stories from the harder part of the day. I linked my arm with Jared’s as we walked, and finally, I said, “Okay, tell me.”
He tucked my arm in tighter and took a deep breath. “Birmingham was able to elude Tuck long enough to ditch his truck, as you know. We expect he called someone to come pick him up.”
I sighed. Nothing comforting about the man being aided by someone. Still, I hoped the next part of Jared’s information would be good news. “And at the river?” I prompted.
“Well, it’s not exactly good news, but it is good information. We found Catherine Birmingham’s purse right where you said it would be. He hadn’t even thrown it very far into the water.” Jared’s voice was quiet, like he was thinking about something.
“He was too busy trying to chase me down, I guess,” I said.
Jared glanced over at me. “Yeah, probably.” He sounded far less certain than I felt. “At the very least, it ties him to her murder.”
I nodded as we walked up to my door and went inside to find Mart and Symeon on the couch with glasses of wine. “Pour me one of those while I change?” I asked no one in particular.
“On it,” Mart said.
“Maybe you can catch them up?” I said to Jared as I turned down the hallway toward my room.
I heard him explain what they’d found about Birmingham’s truck and Catherine’s purse as I slid into fleece pajama bottoms and a comfy T-shirt. When I came back out, Mart had set my glass of white wine on the coffee table, and I picked it up as I slid in next to Jared on the end of the couch. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing, actually, because I wanted to get your opinion on something,” Jared said. When I nodded, he continued. “Clearly Birmingham was hiding something.”
All three of us nodded.
“But not well.” Jared looked at me. “I mean if you really wanted to lose a purse in water, there are much bigger, deeper, more isolated stretches of river and bay around here. Why pick a place right by a trail in the middle of town?”
“Expediency?” Symeon suggested.
“Laziness?” Mart added with a roll of her eyes.
“You wouldn’t,” I said. “You think he wanted someone to find the purse?”
Jared shrugged. “I don’t know, but it seems odd that if he was trying to hide it there and then, even if he wanted to catch you, he didn’t take the additional three seconds he would have needed to toss the purse into the middle of the river.”
I sat back and sipped my wine as I pondered Jared’s train of thought. He had a point, and if I hadn’t been so terrified, I might have thought of it myself. But I was still stuck on something, “Why chase us though?”
“I have a theory about that, too,” Jared said as he winked at me.
“My stunning good looks,” I said with more levity than I felt.
“Well, who could blame him?” Jared said as he leaned over and kiss my cheek. “But I suspect it had more to do with wanting to either scare you for the sake of appearances or so that you would do exactly what you did and call the police.”
Mart leaned forward from where she and Symeon sat on the chair and a half by the fire. “Are you saying that he terrorized Harvey for the sake of appearances?”
Jared shook his head. “It’s awful either way, and I have no proof. But something isn’t adding up here.”
I had to admit I thought Jared was right, now that I wasn’t running for my life. “But he broke into your house. That’s pretty serious commitment to a farce.”
“That’s the thing; he didn’t break in. No windows were broken, and the door was still locked when I checked this afternoon.” He looked at me pointedly. “I think he went right back out the gate once you were inside.”
I stared at my boyfriend. “He didn’t follow me in?”
Jared shook his head.
“Wow. Well, then he certainly could have caught me if he was just waiting in the side yard when I came out the front.” I let out a long, slow breath. It looked like Jared was onto something, but I didn’t feel any better at all knowing that fact.
I slept fitfully that night, so when my alarm went off at seven, I pulled myself out of bed and headed straight for coffee. The guys had left about eleven, and while we had offered to let them stay, one on the couch and one in the guest room, they’d both declined with the assertion that we’d all sleep better if we were in our own beds.
Now, I was glad to have the house to myself. Jared’s theory seemed even more likely in the fresh light of morning, but it meant that the idea that Birmingham had killed his daughter was probably completely off-base. What that meant, however, I couldn’t figure.
As I put bread into the toaster and celebrated a small win that our butter bell was actually full of fresh, soft butter, Kara Birmingham’s very public confrontation on the street yesterday came to mind. I had thought she was just livid because she was in the throes of grief and maybe guilt about her daughter’s death, but now I was wondering if she had been putting on a show, too.
I picked up my phone to text Jared about that idea but decided that if, by chance, he was taking a rare morning to sleep in – as he so much deserved – I didn’t want to wake him, especially not with some half-formed theory that might not even pan out. It could wait.
With my buttered toast, my coffee, and my new read, The Mermaid’s Child, I settled into my reading chair to enjoy an hour of mental quiet before I really launched into my day. The experience was, as it always was on the days when I let myself go fully into a book, blissful, and by the time I forced myself to stop reading and get ready for work, I felt more rested and steady than I had all week. I was sure, from my reading about anxiety and brain science, that there was something about eye movement and distraction involved in the way I felt rested after reading, but today, I was going to chalk it up to magic, the mermaid kind.
At nine as I headed out the door, I heard a wolf whistle and looked out at the road to find Jared waiting for me. He was back in flannel, and the shadow of beard on his face made him even more gorgeous than usual. “What are you doing here?” I said as I walked over.
“Until we know what’s going on for sure, I’m walking you to and from work, Sheriff’s orders and my pleasure.” He reached over and took the dogs’ leashes from me, shifted them to his right hand, and then took mine with his left. “Did you sleep?”
I nodded. “Not particularly well, but I did sleep. You?”
“Same. But this morning, I spent some time with Nicholson Baker, and I feel much better.” Jared was reading through all of Baker’s work, and he loved it, as odd and deep as it could be.
I smiled. “I read Jo Baker and had the same experience.” I felt a deep warmth in my chest that this man I loved found his way in books as much as I did.
We walked on for a couple of blocks, and then I said, “I did have a theory about Kara Birmingham, though.”
“You think she made that scene on purpose?” he asked with a small smile.
“You thought of that, too.” I nodded. “Of course you did.”
“Tuck called Kara this morning to ask her to come into the station to answer some questions about her husband. He told her it’s about his incident with you yesterday, and he will ask about that,” Jared spoke quietly as he scanned to be sure no one was in ear shot.
“But he also wants to ask if they are in danger?”
Jared grinned. “You are good at this.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“Too many novels,” I said. “Any word on where Birmingham is at this point?”
“Nothing. But there are other things in the works to see if we can get more information.” Jared winked at me.
“Things I need to be kept in the dark about?” I said.
“For your own good,” he whispered against my ear. “But it’s all under control.”
I took a deep breath, forced myself to be grateful for my ignorance, and changed the subject before I thought too much about what “under control” might mean in this scenario. “So what’s your plan for the day?”
He pulled a copy of The Mezzanine out of his back pocket and said, “Reading while I watch the most amazing woman in the world work.”
I laughed. “You’re going to stay at my store all day?”
“Is that okay?” he said as he raised his eyebrows and watched me unlock the door.
“Totally okay by me as long as you sit where I can gaze at you while I work.” I stretched up and kiss him before going to turn off the alarm.
When I came back to the front of the store, he had moved one of the arm chairs right onto the center of the stage and was leaning back, boots propped on a small stool, with his book in his lap. “Will this do?”
I laughed. “Perfect,” I said and then laughed out loud when he picked up his book and started to read right there on display for me and the world. I loved it.
By noon when Marcus joined me in the shop, I had already sold out of Harrow’s remaining copies, moved a fair number of books from the “Similar to Harrow” display that Marcus had set up quickly last night, and also placed a number of orders for her books. She was now a hit with the St. Mariner’s, and I could not blame them one bit.
Because Jared had remained in the center of the stage, only leaving for coffee and bathroom breaks, Marcus had set up a sign next to him that said, “Ask Jared about his favorite books,” and several customers had done just that. I was going to ask him later what he’d recommended, but the one suggestion I did hear went to a little boy in boots much like my boyfriend’s who wanted something adventurous to read.
“Have you read Tristan Strong Destroys The World?” Jared asked.
The little boy shook his hair and his dreadlocks tapped against his cheeks. “Does he really destroy things?”
“He really does, but he’s a hero. Want me to show you where it is?” Jared looked up at the boy’s father, who nodded. “This way.”
I watched the three of them head to the middle grade section and let myself flush with delight. This man was amazing – not perfect – but amazing, and I could not believe I got to be with him. Just the thought made my heart flip over.
But despite the good sales day and Jared’s continually handsome presence on the stage, I couldn’t keep my mind from sliding over to the Birminghams and Dooley and what all this might mean. I was so eager to know what was going on with Tuck and the “under control” activity that Jared had hinted at, but I trusted that Jared would tell me anything crucial and that anything he didn’t tell me really was for my own good.
Fortunately, the store was very busy, so I asked Jared to grab us all lunch so we could eat in shifts and keep the floor fully staffed. When he came back with burgers and fries from the food truck that parked outside the big Methodist church in Easton, I grinned. They were delicious and the perfect food for a day when I was tired but invigorated.
Sales were steady throughout the day, and I was glad to see that Rocky’s assistant had come in for the afternoon so she could get a break. Rocky had been here all day every day this week, and I didn’t want her to burn out.
About three, when things started to slow down, I sent Marcus home, too. He’d worked more hours than I had this week, and while he was always good natured and energetic, his steps were a little slower than usual. We were closing up at five today, so I assured him I could handle the next two hours. He smiled and was on the phone to Rocky before he even got out the door. I hoped they’d enjoy a few hours together away from our store.
When Marcus left, Jared sauntered over and said, “Did I hear you’re closing at five?”
“We are. I just hung the sign in the window. It’s usually slow for those last couple of hours anyway, and I’m beat.” I took a minute to lean back against the counter behind me and let myself feel the fatigue.
“I’m delighted you’re taking care of yourself, and since I’m well into my second book now,” he held up a copy of The Little Prince, “I feel very good saying that I’d like to relax with you on my couch while we watch something appropriately Halloween-like.”
“Like scary? Or gory?” I asked with a little wariness.
“Scary only. Have you seen Get Out?”
I shook my head, “I hear it’s amazing and terrifying though.”
“Oh, it is, but I’ll hold you close, okay?”
I blushed and nodded. Nothing sounded better.
As Jared finished his second book of the day up on the stage, I prepped for the week ahead by printing our pull sheets of books to return, putting in our order for the week, and thinking about window displays that we could swap in now that Harrow’s event was over.
Tuck was doing his meet and greet on Tuesday, so I decided something about police procedurals would be fitting and not too “on the nose.” As I pulled titles from the shelves so that Marcus could make the display the next day, my mind wandered to what exactly Jared had been alluding to earlier.
I tried to convince myself that he was just talking about Tuck’s intended conversation with Kara Birmingham, but I knew that wasn’t it. He had already told me that was happening, so something else was going on.
I texted Mart. “Symeon with you?”
“Yep, at a winery. You okay?”
“Totally fine. Just working on a theory.”
“Oh Lord,” Mart replied with an eyeroll emoji. “Be careful.”
“Jared’s here.”
“Of course he is,” she said.
So it wasn’t that Symeon had gone back undercover. I kept thinking as I began to carry the stack of books to the front window to make it easier for Marcus. Then, I tripped and the stack and I went tumbling across the floor.
Jared was by my side in a flash, and after he helped me to my feet, saw that nothing but my pride was bruised, and gathered the books back into the stack, he said, “It’s four forty-five. Let me help you finish up?”
I knew he’d been resisting the urge to help me all day – that was just his nature – but I so appreciated that he gave me space to do my job and that he took the time to enjoy something he loved, even as he sort of did his job, too.
“Sounds good. Can you put those inside the front window for me?”
He nodded and headed that way as I did a final sweep of the store to let the few remaining customers know that we were closing in a few minutes and to pick up the books scattered on tables around the shop. Normally, I would try to shelve those before I went home, but since I was opening in the morning and Mondays were typically a little slower, I decided to give myself a break and let them live on the library cart overnight.
As Jared helped Cecilia do a final wipe down of the tables and then invert the chairs so she could mop, I rang up the final customers and then flipped off the open sign and locked the door.
Within minutes, the café floor was clean, the register closed out, and the store shut down for the night. It was getting dark, and so I was glad the walk to Jared’s was short. Well, at least it was short distance-wise. The snuffling and peeing of two pups meant that it took us a little longer than usual to get there, what with the weaving back and forth to check out various scents.
As soon as we walked in, I smelled them – churros. Lu was here. My friend always smelled like cinnamon and honey, but when you added in the scent of fried dough, I knew she was cooking. “Tuck and Lu are here?” I asked.
“Just for a bit, to eat and give us the run-down on the day. If you mind, I can ask them to go,” he said with a touch of worry on his brow.
I smiled and kissed him. “It’s great. I’ve been dying to know what was going on, and while I do look forward to that movie later, I’ll probably be able to concentrate on being scared and comforted more fully if I’m not distracted.” I gave him a wink.
He grinned and said, “Oh good. I knew you’d be wondering, so I thought it might be okay.”
“Totally okay,” I said as I took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. “Especially if Lu made churros.”
Lu laughed. “Of course, I did. After a week like this, we all need a little sweet fried goodness.” She then gestured to the rest of the meal. “But Tuck made us all a salad bar to balance it out.”
I looked over at Tuck and said, “You can cook?”
“Do you see anything cooked here?” he asked as he handed me a plate.
“Point taken,” I said and made myself a salad with lots of mixed greens, cucumbers, olives, shredded cheese, chickpeas, and sesame seeds. When I added a dollop of Catalina dressing, I smiled. This was exactly the salad I made every day for lunch in college, and I had missed it.
We sat down in Jared’s dining room, and Tuck asked me how the day had gone. I told him it had been a normal day except for the hot guy who refused to get off my stage, and we all had a good laugh at Jared’s antics.
Then, Lu said, “Alright, enough small talk. How is Woody?”
I looked from her to Tuck and then said, “Woody? What about Woody?”
Jared squeezed my knee under the table and kept his hand there. I tried to focus on the warmth to stay calm.
“Woody went undercover for us today with Dooley,” Tuck said just before he filled his mouth with a large forkful of salad.
I glared at him, knowing he wouldn’t speak with his mouth full and had intentionally made me wait to ask my slew of follow-up questions.
Fortunately, Jared spared me the delay and said, “One of Dooley’s men approached him last night before the reading. Woody was shelving books in the Civil War section, and the man apparently thought he might be a like-minded individual, started talking to him about States’ Rights as the sole cause of the Civil War, and then went into the hate group nonsense.”
I growled low in my throat and didn’t even realize I was doing it until Mayhem’s collar jangled beside me. She was looking at me to see what was wrong. “Sorry, girl,” I said and patted her head. “Go on,” I said to Tuck.
“Fortunately, Woody thought fast and played along. Said he was so tired of all this political correctness or something that sent the right signals, and when the guy asked why he was at this particular bookstore, Woody said, and I quote, ‘Got to keep your enemies closer, right?’”
I raised my eyebrows. “Wow, he did think fast on his feet. So they recruited him?”
Jared nodded. “Told him to be at the clubhouse at eight a.m. So we got him wired up and Tuck spent the day listening in.”
“And?” I said impatiently.
Lu chuckled.
“He got in to the inner circle,” Tuck said with an ominous voice.
“You make it sound like it’s some sort of secret society of werewolves,” Lu said.
“It kind of is,” Jared said without a smidgen of humor.
I cringed. “What does that mean?”
“One of Dooley’s men told him that they thought Birmingham wasn’t trustworthy,” Tuck said. “Said they were keeping an eye on him because they thought he might crack.”
I looked at Jared. “You were right.”
Jared nodded. “I was, and now I feel like we’re in some movie where there’s a whistleblower who we have to protect but can’t because they’re on the run.”
“That would make a great movie,” Lu said. “But what do you do next?”
I groaned, and Mayhem sat up again. “Woody’s going back in isn’t he?”
Jared nodded. “He is. And taking Pickle. Apparently, he hinted to the guys that Pickle might also be inclined to help Dooley’s campaign.”
“And they believed him?” Lu asked. “Pickle is the most liberal lawyer around.”
“Woody is a stellar liar. He told them that he works for people who need help with the snowflake system, so he has to seem like a snowflake to be good at his job.” Tuck grinned as he relayed this bit of detail.
I rolled my eyes. “And these men are so gullible that they believed that?”
“Not hard to convince people are conspiring when they feel like they’re being conspired against,” Jared said. “So tomorrow they’re all going out to where Birmingham is hiding out to see what they can find out, and they invited Woody along.”
“So they are hiding Birmingham?” I asked.
Jared nodded. “Woody thinks it may be more of a captive situation, though, so we’ll be close.”
I sighed. “Birmingham called Dooley’s men for help, thinking it would help build him cover, but instead, they were already suspicious of him.” In the course of a few minutes, my feelings about this man had changed markedly. “He’s in danger.”
Tuck sighed. “It appears so, and we need to know what he knows and how he got so far into Dooley’s circle.”
“Which means we need to get him out,” Jared said.
I put my head down on my arms and took a deep breath. First Symeon, then Jared, and now Woody and Pickle . . . the danger the people I loved were in was getting to me. After a few moments, I lifted my head and said, “Okay, so how are you keeping Woody safe?”
The men went through the procedures they had in place, including the wire, their presence nearby at all time, and the addition of two part-time deputies to help out in town while Jared and Tuck focused solely on Woody and his time with Dooley’s crew.
I felt a bit better knowing what the plan was, but I was still profoundly nervous for Woody, and for Tuck and Jared, if I was honest. If Dooley and his men were capable of holding a man hostage, it seemed they were probably willing to do most anything to get what they wanted.
“What does Dooley want, though? What could Birmingham possibly know that would be such a threat?” I asked.
Jared and Tuck exchanged a look, and my heart quickened. I looked over at Lu who shook her head. Tuck hadn’t clued her in on something crucial either.
After a moment of silence, Tuck nodded, and Jared said, “Inside Catherine’s purse, we found her phone, and she had made a lot of calls to Dooley and he to her.”
The silence in the room got very heavy for a few moments. “She and Dooley were in a relationship,” I said quietly.
“Yes, for a few months now,” Tuck said. “She had saved a few voicemails, and it seemed pretty serious.”
I looked at him and then at Jared. “There’s something else.” I could feel the weight of what they weren’t saying in the air.
Jared sighed. “Yes. She had saved some voicemails from him, some very angry voicemails.”
“He killed her,” Lu said.
Tuck nodded. “We think so. Apparently, she was not meeting Dooley’s expectations for a girlfriend of the future sheriff.”
“She was using?” I asked.
“Sounds like it,” Jared continued. He then explained that Dooley had wanted Catherine to show up for events playing the proper role as his girlfriend and when she didn’t show or came late, he lost it on her.
Lu sighed and then smiled softly at her husband. “Thank goodness you don’t have those expectations of me.”
He laughed. “Love, I know better than to demand your time and attention. I just consider it a gift that you give it to me.”
She kissed him quickly and then stood up. “Churros?”
“Everything is easier with fried food and sugar, right?” I added and stood to help her. When the guys started to stand, too, I added, “Let us, just this once, serve you like you serve our community.”
“I could get used to this,” Jared said with a wink at me.
“Don’t,” I snapped back with my own wink.
While we ate dessert, we tried to keep things light even as we ran over the details for Tuck’s meet and greet on Tuesday. I wanted it to be a fun evening, but I also wanted people to have a chance to really talk to Tuck if they needed his ear.
We decided to have some music playing and set out board games and puzzles for people to play. I would ask Rocky if she could make cookies again, and I’d buy them from her this time, and Lu planned on bringing over her homemade chips and salsa.
Jared offered to donate a side table he’d made as a door prize, and I said I’d pull together a gift bag of police procedurals as another prize, too. I figured Elle might give some flowers, and maybe Cate or Henri could give a piece of art. We’d make it night out for folks but also set up a private space for people to bend Tuck’s ear for a few minutes if they wished.
“Can someone be the timekeeper though?” Lu asked. “I could see a chatty person taking up the whole evening with my too-kind husband.”
Jared looked at me and winked. “Your mom would be great at that,” he said.
I grinned. “You’re totally right, and she’ll relish the power.
By the time the Masons packed up their dinner supplies and headed out, we had a solid plan for Tuesday and had, largely it seemed, managed to not think about tomorrow’s events at all. When Jared turned on the movie and then wrapped me up tight against his chest on the couch, all thoughts of anything but where I was right then left my mind completely.