Chapter Fourteen

Thursday morning I wrote “FOUND IN DOROTHY HAWKIN’S REFERENCE DESK” in block letters on a sheet of paper. I placed the original list inside its envelope, slid that inside a larger envelope along with my note, and mailed it to John at the precinct on my way to the library. Lunchtime, as Angela and I walked over to the Cozy Corner Café, I told her about my visit to Fred and the list I’d discovered.

“So that’s why you wanted to get at the reference desk.” Angela laughed. “You’re a sly one. But what made you think of it just then?”

Angela had no idea that Evelyn haunted the library. I felt bad about fibbing to my best friend, but now wasn’t the time to shock her with that piece of info.

“You once told me that Dorothy loved finding out people’s secrets and using what she learned to make them do things for her. I suddenly wondered if she’d ever blackmailed people for money, and I had the sudden impulse to search her desk. Looks like she was doing just that—in order to buy the gorgeous vases she collected.”

“Wow!” Angela stopped walking and put her hands to her head. “That woman was worse than we ever imagined!”

“She was. I wonder—did she blackmail people so she could add to her vase collection, or did she do it to wield power over them?”

“Probably a bit of both,” Angela said.

“That’s what I think,” I said.

As we approached the Cozy Corner Café, Angela asked, “Could you figure out any names on the list?”

“Three—Sally and Harvey are on it, and her neighbor, Ernie Pfeiffer. I don’t recognize the other four sets of initials.”

The café was almost full, but the hostess ushered us to a small table in the rear. As soon as we sat down and slipped off our jackets, I handed the list to Angela.

After a minute, she said, “I think two are women who used to work part time in the library. Greta Harrington died last year and LM could be Lillian Morris. She and Dorothy were friends for a while. Lillian has a wicked sense of humor, but she also has quite a temper. She blew up when Sally told her to do something she felt wasn’t in her job description, and stormed out of the library never to return.”

“Wow!”

“DZ might be Don Zippora, who lives down the street from Dorothy and Fred, though I believe he and his wife are spending the winter in Florida.”

“I wonder who JB is,” I said.

“I’ll ask my mother,” Angela said, jotting it down on a napkin. “She knows more people age fifty and older than I do.”

“Trish or her dad might know.”

Angela laughed. “Or we can leave this part of the investigation to Lieutenant Mathers.”

“I’m wondering what hold Dorothy had over Sally and Harvey,” I said.

“Me too,” Angela said. “I sure hope neither of them decided to do Dorothy in. We’re running out of librarians.”

“Have you ladies decided what you’d like for lunch?” Jilly, our waitress, asked.

Angela and I each ordered a turkey-avocado sandwich on a croissant and a hot chocolate. Then our conversation turned to wedding plans.

“Just think—five and a half months from now, Steve and I will be a married couple,” Angela said.

“I’m glad you guys finally decided on your wedding date and venue.”

Angela grinned. “The Gilbert House is perfect for us. The back lawn will be ablaze with roses and other flowers the third week in June. We’re hoping to hold the cocktail hour outdoors.”

“You’re not disappointed that the country club didn’t work out?” I asked.

Angela shook her head. “They’re too damn expensive. The Gilbert House has a wonderful new chef. Steve and I loved our dinner there the other night. Not only that, they had a Saturday night availability in June, which is exactly what we wanted.”

“Good for you!” I reached across the table to pat her hand.

“And I think I know which gown I’m going with,” Angela said.

I’d gone bridal gown shopping with Angela the other evening. She’d tried on several gowns, and I knew which one I thought best showed off her tall, slender figure. “Tell me.”

She grinned. “You’ll approve. The one with the sweetheart neckline and lacy bodice.”

“Great choice! You looked stunning in it.”

“Next week we’ll shop for bridesmaid’s dresses, okay?”

“Most definitely. I want to have a say in what I get to wear.”

“As long as you remember my color scheme is yellow, silver, and cornflower blue.” Angela tilted her head as she studied me. “I think you’ll look terrif in blue.”

“As long as it’s not a dress with flounces and ruffles.”

Angela opened her eyes wide. “Would I do that to you and my three cousins?”

“You wouldn’t dare. Besides, Steven’s sister would kill you. You know how Donna loves the tailored look. She’d wear a tuxedo if you let her.”

We were still discussing bridesmaids’ dresses when Jilly brought over our sandwiches and hot chocolates.

After lunch, back in the library, I found Smoky Joe waiting outside my office. He greeted me by rubbing against my legs, then flew to his kitty litter box as soon as I unlocked the door. I was spooning out a healthy amount of food in his plate when I heard a knock.

“Come in,” I called.

A white-faced Doris Maris entered my office. “Carrie, please come! Henry’s asleep and I can’t wake him up!”

“I ran to the reading room, where another homeless woman was shaking Henry’s shoulder vigorously.

“Don’t do that!” I said.

The woman recoiled and began to mutter.

I apologized. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you, but you shouldn’t shake him like that.”

She all but snarled at me. “I wanted to make sure Henry wasn’t dead.”

Henry blinked several times, clearly agitated by the crowd that had gathered around him. “Wha—what’s happening?”

Doris slipped past me to put her arm around her husband. “You fell asleep, and I couldn’t wake you.”

“I was tired, so I dropped off. What’s the big deal?”

The big deal is you fall asleep during the day every day and that’s not normal. “Doris,” I said as calmly as I could manage, “I’d like to talk to you, if I may.”

Reluctantly, Doris left her husband’s side. “I’m sorry I brought you here for no reason. You have work to do, and it turns out Henry’s all right.”

“Doris, I think you and I both know that Henry isn’t all right. He needs to be seen by a doctor.”

She gazed down at the floor. “We can’t afford a doctor.”

“You can if I call nine-one-one. They’ll take Henry to South Conn Hospital, where he’ll be evaluated.”

She stared at me. “Evaluated for …?”

“I think you know. He needs medical attention.”

Doris began to weep. “They’ll take him from me. I know they’ll take him from me.”

I put my arm around her shoulders. I could feel her bones beneath her thin jacket. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to do what’s best for Henry, right?”

She nodded and returned to her husband while I made the call.

The dispatcher asked if they needed to send an ambulance. “I think I can get someone to drive him, or I’ll drive him myself.”

Sally was establishing order in the reading room. I told her I’d called nine-one-one, and she asked Pete, our younger custodian, if he’d be willing to drive the Marises to the hospital.

“Of course,” he readily agreed.

I hugged Doris and told her I’d be calling the hospital to find out what was happening. Sally and I watched Pete shepherd them out the rear exit to his car.

“My heart goes out to them,” Sally said. “Two middle-class people made homeless. And now Henry’s senility requires serious attention.”

“Maybe, by some miracle, there’s a place that will take them both in.”

“That would be wonderful,” Sally agreed, but we both knew it wasn’t very likely.

*   *   *

I hoped that Evelyn would soon make an appearance so I could discuss Dorothy’s list with her. From the way she’d taken off after making sure I’d found it, I knew that, much as she loved Dorothy, she was also deeply ashamed of her niece. I was familiar with that situation. For years I’d been mortified to be associated with my father because Jim Singleton was a thief. I only hoped that he’d stick with his new job at the investigative agency and remain a permanent upstanding member of society.

Evelyn finally showed up when I was alone in my office and Susan was filling in at the reference area. She wore a rueful expression.

“I’m so sorry, Carrie. I said I’d be forthright and share whatever I knew, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about Dorothy’s list any sooner.”

“I know it was difficult—letting other people know what Dorothy was up to.”

Evelyn let out a mournful sigh. “My sister and her husband certainly didn’t raise her to prey on people’s weaknesses. I’m glad they never knew about her disgraceful behavior.”

“When did Dorothy write this list?”

“About two months ago. From the way she was gloating, I figured she was up to something she had no business doing.”

“Did you manage to see the list?”

Evelyn shook her head. “I only caught a glimpse of it. When I saw the word ‘Vases,’ the initials, and numbers, I had an idea of what she was writing. I’d overheard her on the phone with Sotheby’s, making inquiries about vases that were being auctioned off.”

So Evelyn isn’t above eavesdropping when it suits her. Good to know. “I saw Dorothy’s vase collection when I visited her at home,” I said. “They’re all beautiful and, apparently, expensive.”

“Robert and I gave Dorothy an antique vase as an anniversary present the year after she and Fred were married. I suppose that’s when she started her collection.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” I said.

“If only I could have stopped her! I knew Dorothy loved to delve and uncover people’s weaknesses. It made her feel superior. But blackmail! That is truly despicable.”

I opened my pocketbook to fish out the list, and laid it flat on my desk. “Do you recognize anyone’s initials besides Sally’s, Harvey’s and Ernie Pfeiffer’s? Angela thinks the others refer to a woman named Greta, who’s deceased, and that LM is another former librarian named Lillian Morris, and DZ is a neighbor of Dorothy’s named Don Zippora.”

Evelyn pursed her lips together. “I’d say most likely Angela’s right. Dorothy once told me that Lillian occasionally took items from stores. Dorothy probably threatened to go to the police with that information if she didn’t pay up. As for Don—he sometimes parked his truck in front of Dorothy and Fred’s house, which irritated Dorothy no end. She called the police a few times. He retaliated by dumping a load of soil on their front lawn.” She shrugged. “Who knows what Dorothy managed to dig up on him after that incident.”

“And JB?” I said. “Any ideas?”

Evelyn closed her eyes. “No, thank goodness.”

“I’ll see what I can find out about everyone on the list,” I said.

“Please be careful, Carrie. I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I will,” I said.

Evelyn looked as though she was about to cry. “I’m so ashamed, Carrie. I should have been firmer with Dorothy when she was young, and taken her to task instead of being the comforting and understanding aunt.”

I watched her disappear, thinking how sad it was that we weren’t able to choose the people we love. They weren’t always the most admirable, and when they hurt or disappointed us, the pain was almost unbearable.