Chapter Seventeen
When Kate stepped into the front office at the demo company, her young friend with the purple hair was standing at the counter, manning a copier with one hand while she slurped a McDonald’s drink with the other.
“Oh, hey!” she said. “I told my dad about you yesterday. He’s here now if you want to see him.”
The young woman smiled, the same open, friendly smile from earlier. Kate thought it looked a bit incongruous coming from the tough-looking Goth girl. It just went to show, she thought, how deceiving first impressions could be.
“Yes, I’d like to talk to him,” Kate told her, smiling.
“I’ll go tell him.” The young woman started off down a hallway, then turned around. “I’m Lissa, by the way.”
“Kate Hanlon. Nice to meet you, Lissa.”
Lissa was back in a moment, followed by a tall, slender man in chinos and a light blue dress shirt. He came toward Kate with a smile that told her immediately he was Lissa’s father. They looked quite a bit alike.
“Hi. I’m Adam Crawford.” He made a circling motion with his index finger, indicating the building around them. “Crawford Demolitions, you know?”
Kate introduced herself and extended a hand. “Thank you for speaking to me.”
“Why don’t you come back to my office?” he suggested.
He gestured for Kate to precede him to an office down the hall and then showed her to a comfortable chair across the desk from his own.
“So, you met Melissa,” he said, smiling ruefully. “Not your typical receptionist.”
“No indeed. But charming and capable,” Kate said. “I like her a great deal.”
“A lot of people are put off by the look,” he said. “But I’m not going to fight with her about it. I just keep telling myself it’ll pass.”
Kate laughed. “Very wise. As the mother of three grown children, I can attest to that.”
“So,” Adam sat back, placing his elbows on the arms of his chair, and steepled his fingers in front of him, “you’re here about the library demolition.”
Kate’s heart skipped a beat. Finally! Her hunch was confirmed. She forced herself to calmly nod. “I’m trying to learn who the current owner of the property is. It’s been surprisingly difficult to track him down. All I’ve been able to find out so far is that the Foxfield family owned the property back in the 1920s.”
Adam sighed. “It’s always been my policy that our records remain confidential unless I have an order from a judge to divulge information. Saves a big hassle if the client knows he can trust you, you know?”
Kate nodded. “I can understand that. But this is such an unusual situation. The Copper Mill Public Library is a beloved institution in the community. It just doesn’t seem right that it’s being evicted and the building will be torn down with barely any notice.”
“It’s a great little place.” Adam Crawford scrubbed his hands over his face. “We lived in Copper Mill when my kids were young, and we used the library a lot.” His gaze grew unfocused and faraway. “We had a lot of great times at that library. My kids went to Story Hour every Saturday morning.”
There was a moment of silence. Kate sensed the man was wading through a deep internal struggle.
Without speaking, he got to his feet and opened a file drawer behind him, withdrawing a simple manila folder and laying it on his desk. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you the name of the owner, Kate.”
Disappointment rushed through her. She’d hoped...but she respected his opinion. She started to rise and extend her hand, but he waved her back into her seat.
“I’m really sorry I can’t tell you the name.” He emphasized the word tell as he repeated his regret. “I have to go talk to Lissa for a few minutes,” he continued. He tapped a conspicuous finger on the file he had gotten out, holding her gaze as he smiled. “Perhaps there’s some other way you can find the name you need.”
Kate cleared her throat. “Perhaps.”
He started around his desk. “You take your time gathering your bag. I’ll be in the front office.” And with that, the owner of Crawford Demolitions strode out of his office, closing the door behind him.
He left the Copper Mill Public Library file on his desk right in front of Kate.
Her heart was pounding as she snatched up the file and flipped it open. She began to nod to herself as her gaze sped over the information. Gerald Foxfield. Just like the family who had donated the library to the town.
Perhaps a grandson, she thought, reviewing approximate ages in her head. Or a great-grandson.
Also on the paper was the date the demolition contract had been signed. Kate frowned as she glanced at the date. June 30? That couldn’t be. The town-council meeting hadn’t even occurred until last Thursday. What nerve! Foxfield must have been quite sure of his ability to shut down the library.
The second sheet contained all the regulation information Lissa had given her the previous afternoon, only in checklist form. Kate could see that everything was in order. All the steps had been marked off with the date they’d been completed. So there was no chance to use that to stop the demolition.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open as she saw the date of demolition listed on the form. Monday! This coming Monday, the very same day that the library was to be vacated.
Kate knew from the things Livvy had said that they intended to complete the move on Sunday. But Monday!
Panic tightened a lump in her throat. How on earth was she going to stop this demolition before Monday?
Monday...Monday...Monday! It took Kate several moments to calm herself enough to think past hideous visions of the library disappearing in a huge cloud of dust. Finally her mind began to take control again, and she shooed away the helpless feeling that gripped her. She could fix this, she told herself firmly. One step at a time, Kate. Don’t look at the big picture; it’s too overwhelming. Just go one step at a time.
At least now she had confirmed that Gerald Foxfield was indeed the owner. That was a giant step forward. A few more of those giant steps, and maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to keep the Copper Mill Public Library from being demolished.
On Monday, she thought again, still dazed by the discovery.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, she arrived back at the library.
Livvy was working with the volunteers again, packing boxes and passing them to someone else to tape shut.
Kate caught her eye and tilted her head toward Livvy’s office. “Let’s go into your office for a minute.”
Once in the office, Kate sat Livvy down behind the desk and told her friend what she had just discovered.
“Monday? The day after we finish the move?” Now Livvy was the one who was pale. “That’s only four days away!”
Kate nodded. “I know.”
Livvy began to hyperventilate, her voice rising until Kate took her shoulders and lightly shook her. “I know how you feel. I was doing this very same thing myself just a short while ago. But we don’t have time for this, Livvy. We’re going to stop the demolition, and right now, we need to concentrate on how to do that.”
Livvy slumped in her chair. “Oh, Kate,” she said in a thready voice. “What a rock you are.” She sat up and straightened her shoulders. “All right. We are going to stop this. Let’s concentrate.”
“All right. So this man,” Kate said, “this Gerald Foxfield, supposedly owns this property. I’ve never met him, although I saw a picture of him as a kid in the mayor’s office. Apparently they were friends way back when. I had never even heard the name before this week. Had you?”
Livvy hesitated. “Foxfield rings a bell. But I don’t remember why.” She shook her head. “How can it be true? If the town didn’t own the library, how could it have stayed open for so many years?”
“One of two possibilities that I can see,” Kate said. “One is that Foxfield didn’t realize his family still owned the property. The other is that he knew but until recently had no reason or desire to claim it.”
Livvy looked skeptical. “I hate to say bad things about human nature, but I think if he had known it, he would have let us know. My vote goes to the first theory.”
“I’m thinking that too.”
“So what’s next?” Livvy made a fierce face. “If you figure this out in time to stop it, I’m going after Foxfield, or whoever is responsible. I’m going to make them read an entire dictionary—backward!”
Kate chuckled. “That’s a pretty terrible punishment, for sure.”
“You try it sometime,” Livvy said. “See how long you last.”
Kate thought about it. “You may have a point.” Then she gestured to the packing going on all around them. “You’re going to kill me, but I’d like to find a book titled As I Lay Dying.”
“By Faulkner,” Livvy said promptly. “That’s where I’ve heard the name Foxfield before.” She beckoned Kate to follow her. “That section is packed, but it hasn’t been moved yet. Each carton of books is labeled with the title, author, and Dewey number of the first and last book in it.”
“So all we have to do is find it,” Kate said with relief. “A piece of cake.”
But as she followed Livvy back through the fiction stacks to an open area near the far end where bookcases had been moved to make space, she was confronted with a wall of boxes.
“Oh my,” she said weakly. It was the first time she had seen all the boxes stacked in one spot like that.
Livvy grinned, the first time all week that Kate had seen her friend display any real amusement. “It’s a little overwhelming at first glance.”
“And second and third and so on.” Kate shook her head as the realization struck her. Even if, by some miracle, she was able to figure out a way to keep the library from being demolished or taken away from the town, it was going to take even longer to put everything back than it had taken to dismantle it. How could this have happened?
“Livvy, there’s something I don’t understand. It seems odd to me that there’s no record of who gifted the library to the town. That normally would be a big deal that would become part of a historical record, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I can answer that,” Livvy said. “Whoever donated this building wanted to remain anonymous. Everything in the documentation notes an anonymous donor, and I guess once the people who really did know the truth passed on, there wasn’t anyone left who would remember the names.” She paused.
“Ah.” That had been bothering Kate. Now she understood why there were no plaques honoring the Foxfield family, if that was who the donors had been. “So the only way to find out is to check the deed. Rats.”
“Why rats?” Livvy asked.
“Because if I go to the courthouse and do it myself, it will take half a day. You remember how slowly Mrs. Sedberry moves.”
Livvy chuckled. “I do.”
“Let’s check these books before I do that,” Kate said. “It will take less time if I can find it here.”
“Okay. Let’s get started,” Livvy said. “I don’t have a lot of time, but you’re working so hard at finding answers for us that I have to do what I can.” She started at one end. “Let me scan the boxes in the front. Hopefully it’ll be here and we won’t have to move an entire layer forward.”
Kate stood back as Livvy quickly reviewed the information written on the top and front side of each carton. Unfortunately, Livvy stood back a few moments later and shook her head. “Not in these boxes.”
“Okay.” Kate sighed. “Tell me what to do.”
The two women slid the whole first row of vertical stacks forward so that they could read the information on the boxes in the second row.
Livvy was almost to the end of the row when she said, “Bingo!”
“Great!” Kate heaved a sigh. “I wasn’t looking forward to moving this whole row out of the way so we could get to the third one.”
Livvy grabbed the top box off the stack she had indicated and set it aside. “It’s the fourth box down.”
Kate moved the second box, and Livvy moved the third. Once those boxes were out of the way, Livvy slid an X-Acto knife from her pocket and slit the tape holding the top flaps of the box together. “Cross your fingers. Maybe it’ll be on the top.”
It wasn’t, but it wasn’t too far down. As Livvy pulled out two copies of As I Lay Dying, Kate eagerly grabbed one and opened the flyleaf.
Nothing.
“Here,” said Livvy. “There’s a bookplate in this one. It reads, ‘From the collection of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Willard Foxfield. May 27, 1934.’ That makes sense. The library opened that year.”
“Charles Willard Foxfield.” Kate nodded. “That was the name of one of the owners I found in the census information at the historical society. So if the books were donated at the same time the library opened in 1934, and the Foxfield family owned the building in 1930 when the census was taken, it’s likely that Charles Foxfield was the person who donated the building as a library.”
“So we have to find his descendants,” Livvy said. “Does Gerald Foxfield, or any of his relatives, still live in Harrington County?”
“Not as far as I know,” Kate said. “I couldn’t find any in the telephone book. Gerald Foxfield was listed as the owner of this property on the demolition order, but I haven’t been able to turn up anything on him.”
“Maybe he doesn’t live around here anymore,” Livvy said. “He could have hired a local lawyer and the demolition company without coming to Harrington County.”
“True.” Kate let the thought roll around in her brain for a moment. “I don’t know, Livvy. I just have this feeling that he’s around somewhere.”
“If he is, you’ll find him,” her friend predicted as the two of them bent to the task of replacing the books and the cartons back in the order in which they had found them.
“Something else happened to me.” Kate straightened and rubbed her arthritic knee, which was protesting the heavy lifting. She couldn’t imagine how Livvy must be feeling after nearly a week of this.
“What?” Livvy straightened too and stretched her arms high over her head.
“I found an anonymous note in my handbag yesterday afternoon.”
“What?” Livvy dropped her arms quickly. “Who sent it?”
Kate chuckled. “If I knew that, it wouldn’t be anonymous.”
Livvy had to laugh. “I withdraw the question. What did it say?”
Kate explained about the strap on the handbag breaking and paraphrased the contents of the missive, mentioning both Malcolm Dekker and Eli Weston.
“I think,” she went on, “that it must have been placed in there while I was here, because there was no way for anyone to get to my handbag during the rest of the morning.”
“You’re sure it occurred then?” Livvy asked. “Could the note have been in your purse longer, and you overlooked it until everything spilled out?”
“I can’t imagine—” Kate began. Then she stopped. “Yes. It could have.”