My legs were stiff from sitting on the concrete floor for what must have been hours. I hadn’t even considered moving to the comfort of my car. I’d been too engrossed in reliving John Hokes’s life to care about the cold seeping in or the hardness of the floor. I stood and took a few minutes to stretch before grabbing my phone to call everyone, as I’d promised to do if I found anything.
Damn. Dead battery. Had I forgotten to charge it again? Maybe I should start carrying an extra charger, just in case. For now, my phone was about as useful as an attempt at smoke signals in the rain that continued to pour.
I made sure all the boxes were inside, except the two I’d take to the Hokes sisters, and rolled down the doors, locking them and dropping the keys into my pocket. I rewrapped the diary and stuck it inside my raincoat, which I’d retrieved from the corner where I’d laid it while I worked, and loaded the two boxes into the car.
As I approached the Hokes sisters’ house on my way back through town, I decided to stop. Livie would love the books, and she might be able to shed some light on the weird clue. It was already midafternoon, and I crossed my fingers that Livie would still be home. I didn’t want to walk from the historic district’s car park all the way to her store in this pouring rain with fragile books to catch her there if she’d already left the house. The diary was too important to risk.
Once on her porch, I stood, Livie’s box in my arms and the diary still tucked into the inside pocket of my coat, crammed up against the door to keep the rain from hitting me under the tiny overhang. I jumped as the door swung open before I’d even had the chance to ring the doorbell.
Livie stood there with her coat on and her purse over one arm. Her eyes widened, and she jumped back, opening the door wider and gesturing for me to come inside. “Good Lord, child. What on earth are you doing here?”
Inwardly, I thanked my fairy godmother or whoever it was who looked out for me, since Livie seemed to be in the best of the several moods she regularly displayed.
I held out the box. “I found some books in Uncle Paul’s warehouse I thought you might want to look at. I haven’t set a price yet, but if you want any of them, I’ll make pricing them my top priority.” I smiled and held out the books. All except the diary, which stayed inside my coat.
Livie’s voice raised a few notches and took on a breathy quality. “How absolutely wonderful.” She moved down the hallway to her library, cradling the antique books as tenderly and gently as if they were newborn babies.
I followed her into the room and watched as Livie removed her raincoat and tossed it aside to land in a messy heap on the floor by the doorway. My eyebrows shot up. I hadn’t seen Livie as the clutter-bug type. Guess I knew who did the housekeeping as well as the gardening.
“Am I keeping you?” I didn’t want to delay the other woman from relieving her sister.
“No, not at all.” Livie waved a dismissive hand in my general direction without looking up. “Phillie can wait a bit. She’ll understand.”
I took off my wet coat and draped it across the other chair, watching as Livie laid out the books on a table near the tall windows. Putting on reading glasses, Livie first put the books in order by author. Then she referred to her shelves, also in alphabetical order, I assumed to ensure she didn’t already own these volumes. Finally, she opened each book, running her fingers across the date and author’s credentials if there, then reading a passage or two within the text.
Through all of this process, I waited patiently. Okay, maybe not so patiently, but I needed the sales if Livie decided to buy, and I also needed the Hokes sisters’ goodwill, as they were important members of the community. While I waited, I walked to the windows and looked out across the backyard. Flowers in every hue held faces toward the slowing rain. Enjoying the riot of color, I let my mind drift, wondering if I should show Livie the diary before the police had had a chance to look at it. When Livie spoke, bringing my thoughts back to the present, my heart jumped, as I hadn’t heard her move up behind me.
“I’ll take all of them,” Olivia said firmly. “There’s not a bad one in the lot.”
Yay for me! “That’s great.” I slid into my bookseller persona. “I’ll get them priced as soon as possible. Please bear with me, though. I’m not likely to be as fast at that as Uncle Paul was. But I’ll do my best for you.”
“See that you do,” came the crisp reply. “I hope I can assume you won’t try to gouge me for a higher price.” Livie raised her eyebrows and leveled a piercing stare at me.
I stood my ground and matched her stare, although I was oddly intimidated by this tiny woman. “I can assure you I would never price a book higher than its value, regardless of the identity of the buyer.”
Livie maintained her intense gaze for a moment longer before finally relaxing. “Good, then. If there’s nothing else, I need to get to the store. Phillie will expect me to come and relieve her.”
It was now or never. I took a deep breath. “Actually, there is one more thing.”
Livie turned expectantly, her gaze following my movements as I walked to the chair and brought the small diary out of my coat. “It’s John Hokes’s diary.” I extended the book toward the other woman. “I found it among Uncle Paul’s books today.”
Livie’s eyes widened as she reached for the diary. “Have you read it?” she asked in a breathy voice, not taking her eyes from the book.
I hoped she wasn’t about to have a heart attack or anything, because she had paled drastically. I led her to one of the high-backed chairs, settling her in one and sitting in another opposite her. “I read the whole thing, and I didn’t think it was rubbish. Actually, I thought it was fascinating. This is only the last year he lived, but it tells so much about his entire life. I almost cried in several spots.” I stopped, not wanting to seem too sentimental.
Livie patted my arm gently. “I understand. Sometimes these things get to me too.” She smiled reassuringly at me.
I relaxed as more color returned to Livie’s face. This time I truly was patient as Livie settled herself back onto her chair and read a few of the entries.
“May I keep this a while?” Livie didn’t look up from the page she was reading.
“I don’t think so. The police want to see this. They think Uncle Paul’s murder may have something to do with this diary.”
Livie almost dropped the book. Her hand fluttered to her chest as she gasped. “What?”
Oh Lord, if she wasn’t having a heart attack, I might give her one if I wasn’t careful. “I’m sorry to blurt it out like that. I didn’t think.”
“It’s all right.” The strained look slowly left Livie’s face. “You simply startled me. That was definitely not what I expected you to say.”
“No, I guess it wasn’t.” What would Sutter say if I actually did cause a death? He’d have a field day with this one. I’d probably end up with the death penalty before he was done.
The older woman read a bit more. “What makes the police think this book had anything to do with Paul’s death?” She looked up, her brow furrowed and her eyes concerned.
I hesitated. I really hadn’t thought this through, had I? “I’m not sure how much I can say, but I can tell you this much. The police have found evidence that makes them believe Uncle Paul was killed by someone trying to steal this diary. They’ve also linked it to Norman Childers’s death.”
“That nasty man who tried to take your bookstore?” Livie’s mouth pursed with obvious distaste.
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“What could be in this diary that someone would kill over?” A frown crossed Livie’s face, and she shook her head. “It’s only an old man’s rantings.”
I wrestled again with how much to reveal. Well, as they always said, in for a penny, in for a pound. “It seems your ancestor found some kind of treasure right before he died. He hid a piece of it and a map to find the rest. Then he left a clue at the end of the diary, telling where he hid them.”
“This sounds like it might take some time to sort out. I’ll make tea.” She stood and moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll be back shortly.”
After a few minutes, I got up and made my way to the kitchen. The teapot heated water on the stove, and teacups and saucers for two already sat on a tray to be brought into the den. Stepping back into the hallway, I caught sight of Livie entering the hall from a door halfway down its length. The woman jumped but recovered her composure as she came toward me.
“Was there something you needed?” Livie asked sweetly.
I held out my dusty hands. “Yes. I was hoping to find a bathroom. I’ve been handling old books all day. I’d like to wash up, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. It’s down the hall, the first door on the right.” Livie brushed past me and into the kitchen.
I strode down the hall to the indicated doorway. I hesitated. This was the door Livie had come out of. Shrugging, I walked through, closed the door behind me, and walked the length of the room to the sink. I reached to turn on the water, but before I could pump any soap from the dispenser, a small pink pill caught my eye.
It had rolled behind the trash can next to the sink, and I bent down to pick it up. It wasn’t the only one of its kind on the floor. Two more like it lay halfway under the skirt of the sink. I picked up all three pills and straightened.
Intending to put them back where they came from, I opened the mirrored door on the wall above the sink, revealing an organized cabinet. Mom would have been in heaven. Except for that one bottle. The lid wasn’t put on properly, and it stood out of line on the perfectly ordered shelf. I pushed it back into place and laid the pink pills next to it on the shelf. The label caught my eye. “One pill to be taken at bedtime as needed for sleep.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. The bottle had obviously been closed and put away in a hasty manner, and the pills on the floor suggested someone had been in too much of a hurry to notice they had fallen out. I reached out as if in slow motion and slowly picked up the bottle, fully opening it once I held it. The little pink pills inside matched the ones from the floor. The name on the bottle was Ophelia Hokes.
Bile rose in my throat, and my heart squeezed then pounded as if desperate to get out of my chest. My hands trembled as I replaced the cap on the bottle and put it back into the cabinet. I all but ran out of the bathroom, hoping to get to the den to grab my coat, my car keys, and the diary before Livie could return with the tea tray. I groaned under my breath when I found Livie seated under the windows, pouring tea into two cups.
“Oh, just in time.” She smiled her sweet smile.
I hesitated. Maybe my overactive imagination had gotten the better of me. Maybe I was wrong. I swallowed back a scream when I realized I hadn’t been wrong, as Livie extended a small plate.
“I made a blackberry cobbler a few days ago. I thought you might enjoy a piece or two with your tea.”
I glanced at my watch and shook my head. “I’m so sorry.” I prayed my voice sounded sincere. “I’ve remembered another appointment I made. I’ll barely make it in time as it is, so I’ll have to come back later to talk about the diary.”
My raincoat was on the chair beside me, and I bent to retrieve it, checking for the keys in my pocket as I strode across to the little table to snag the diary. I slipped the coat on, easing the book into a pocket and breathing another silent prayer that Livie wouldn’t sense anything was wrong. I turned … and stared straight into the barrel of a gun.