A margin for murder, p.5
A Margin for Murder, page 5
Above them a door slammed. Heavy footsteps clopped on the stairs behind them.
“Is it true?” shrieked a gray-haired, birdlike woman as she whipped herself around the banister railing onto the top of the landing.
Stunned, Addie stopped and gazed up at her. “You mean about the books?”
“Not just the books but the whole darn bookmobile,” the woman hissed, and took a step down toward Addie.
“Patricia, stop that!” cried Luella from above. “It’s not Miss Greyborne’s fault. Like I told you already, the town council approved the payment for the bus and continues to pay for all the fuel and maintenance expenses. Therefore, we can do whatever it takes to recoup the money, and that includes selling it. Now, go find your assistant, Bea, like I instructed, and then both of you get back up here so we can figure out how Mrs. Radcliff’s books ended up on that bus!”
“I already told you,” hissed Patricia through a tightened jaw. “I have no idea how they got there. They must have somehow gotten mixed up with the library loan books and then mis-shelved. It was clearly an error when we were stocking the bus last winter. Which, I remind you, is when you told me that no matter what happened with the library, we would still operate the bookmobile because providing services to outlying communities was important to the memory of Maisie Radcliff and something we could do to honor her.”
“Why in the world would we continue to fund the bookmobile when it is such a drain on town finances? Now, go and find Bea.” Luella turned on her heel and slammed the upstairs door behind her.
Patricia glared at Addie as she stomped down the stairs past her and dashed into the library hall.
When she was out of earshot, Addie looked at Paige. “What do you make of all that?”
“I’m not sure, you?”
“I’m wondering if Patricia did know the books were there . . . Maybe she was even the person who hid them on the bus.”
“But why would she sabotage the auction that would have helped the library?”
“I don’t think the auction itself would have helped much, by the bits and pieces I’ve put together. Regardless of the fundraising, without Maisie Radcliff’s money, the library was going to have to close.”
“And since Patricia was head librarian, she would have known that.”
“Yes, so perhaps hiding the books was her way of making sure there would be a nest egg for her to continue to run the bookmobile or pay for her retirement after she lost her job.”
“She does seem more upset about the discovery of the books and hearing we bought the bus than the actual closing of the library.”
“Yes, I expect she’s scrambling now to figure out her next steps. Keep your eyes open. I get the feeling she’s a feisty one, and I don’t think she’ll go down without a fight.”
Chapter 6
Addie scribbled her signature on the bottom line where Luella had indicated, smiled with satisfaction, and handed the pen to Patricia to witness it.
Patricia begrudgingly snatched the pen from her fingers, scrawled her name on the appropriate line, and then dropped the pen on the desk. “I want it to be known that I do this under protest.”
“Yes, Patricia,” Luella said with an exasperated eye roll. “Your protest is duly noted.” She glanced at Addie. “That only leaves the matter of the money exchange.” She slid a piece of paper across the desk toward her. “This contains the library banking info you’ll need to conduct the transfer of funds.”
Addie retrieved her cell phone from her handbag, glanced at the paper, tapped in the information, reread her message, and pressed Send. “There. The total paid includes the purchase price of the bus and contents, as per our discussion, and the addition made to the sales contract for the two library tables, two bookcases, and the French Beech Sofa that we discussed earlier.” Addie dropped her phone back in her bag. “You should get the verification notice within a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” Luella rubbed her hands together, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Now, any books you’re interested in, you can pay Patricia or one of the volunteers downstairs at the desk. Are there any questions?” She glanced from Addie to Paige.
“I think”—Addie pinned her expectant gaze on the woman—“that only leaves the matter of a copy of the sales receipt, the keys, and the registration papers so I can make arrangements with my insurance company as soon as possible.”
“Right. Yes, you will need those, won’t you? I’ll make a photocopy of this for you.” She turned to the small copier behind the desk, inserted the paper, and pressed the copy button. “The registration is in the bus. I was thinking that since I’ve already made arrangements for the local news station to be here to interview me after the potluck we’re throwing for the volunteers, we could do an on-air ceremony of me handing over the keys to you.”
Addie shifted uncomfortably, her thoughts immediately going to Pippi, who was still at Brianna’s neighbor’s house. “We really didn’t plan on making an evening of it.”
“I know it’ll make for a long day. However, with all the turmoil the library closure has caused its patrons and volunteers, we wanted to give something back to them that might help lessen the blow. The dinner tonight is in honor of them, to show our appreciation. Plus, a televised event like this would be a great public relations story for your bookstore in Greyborne Harbor, while giving our community a glimmer of hope that all was not lost in this whole mess.”
“I can phone Valerie,” said Paige, looking hopefully at Addie. “I’m sure she won’t mind watching Pippi for a few more hours, because Luella is right about the press coverage. It would be a big boon for the bookstore.”
“I know. It’s just that . . . okay . . . sure, as long as my dog sitter doesn’t object.”
“Wonderful. Some of the volunteers will be starting to set up for the dinner shortly, and then at six, we’ll close the doors for the day, I’ll grab a quick bite, and then head over to the parking lot to collect your bus and we can do the key ceremony.”
Patricia harrumphed, spun on her heel, and marched out the door.
“Don’t mind her,” said Luella, waving her off. She pasted a smile on her aesthetically enhanced ruby lips. “Why don’t the two of you run along now and head back down to the sale. I have some paperwork to look after, and I’ll join you at the dinner.” She fluttered her fingers, shooing them off, and slid into the chair behind the desk. “You can close the door behind you, thank you.”
“I guess we’ve just been dismissed.” Paige chuckled, closing the door. “I’ll call Valerie now and let her know what’s going on. We have to eat anyway and with any luck this won’t run too long, then we stop and get Pippi and head out to the amusement park for some fun.”
“Okay, but if Valerie even sounds a wee bit reluctant,” said Addie, “tell her we’ll be right back to get Pippi. I really do appreciate her taking her for the day and don’t want to impose any more than we already have.”
Paige nodded, tapped in the number, and stepped outside the entrance door to the second-floor main hall and meeting room.
A group of volunteers bustled about setting up buffet tables and arranging chairs into smaller conversation groupings. Addie glanced into the small kitchen where a hefty woman slid a foil-covered pan into an oven. Addie noted a number of other foiled-covered pans sat on the counter, and someone had arranged an assortment of yummy-looking dessert dishes on a side table.
“That’s a lot of food,” Addie called out.
The woman, sporting a hairnet over her salt-and-pepper hair, glanced over her shoulder at Addie. Her eyebrow arched.
“Sorry.” Addie held out her hand. “I’m Addie, from Greyborne Harbor.”
“Gretchen, the kitchen volunteer. Nice to meet you.” She wiped her hand on her apron in response to Addie’s extended hand. “What did you say when you came in? I’m a little hard of hearing in my right ear.”
“I said that’s a lot of food.”
“Yes, and judging by the dishes that were dropped off, I think the turnout tonight will be much larger than we expected.”
“Are these all donations then?”
“Oh yes, everyone attending the dinner was asked to contribute at least one dish, and judging by what’s here, I think a few of them brought more than one. It looks like we might even have leftovers, which will be a first.”
She turned back to the counter, picked up another pan, and slid it into the oven. “The trick is going to be to keep everything warm that should be served hot, and everything cool that is supposed to be.” She mopped her brow with the corner of her apron. “Gad, it’s like an oven in here already. Dang air-conditioning.”
“We’re all set,” said Paige, sliding up to Addie’s side. “Valerie said they had a wonderful afternoon in the garden and have just headed inside for her to start dinner. So, no problem, she loves the company and said for us to enjoy our evening. Feel better?”
“Yes, I do, and now that I smell all the delicious aromas coming out of the kitchen, I realized we haven’t eaten today, and I’m starving.” She laughed when her stomach rumbled in agreement.
Paige glanced at her phone before she tossed it into her bag. “There’s still time for us to go down and see if we can add to our book purchases, because the dinner’s not going to start for another hour. Then, we can do something about that.” She gave a pointed look at Addie’s grumbling tummy.
“All right, but I have to be careful. I’ve already spent enough money for the day. As it stands, my accountant is going to have a stroke when he sees how much money I just transferred out,” Addie said with a tentative laugh.
* * *
An hour later, and another box filled with books secured in the back of the Wrangler along with the smaller of the two library tables, Paige and Addie took their place in the lineup at the buffet tables.
“I do feel guilty about eating any of this when we didn’t make a contribution.” Addie eyed the assortment of food displayed on the table in front of them.
“Guilty enough not to eat?” Paige grinned.
“Not even close,” Addie said, stabbing a serving fork into a delicious-looking Swedish meatball and plopping it onto her paper plate.
“Addie.” Luella’s tawny-brown head of loose-flowing hair poked between her and Paige. “Do you like chocolate mint?”
Addie pulled back and stared at her. “Um, yes, why?”
“It’s just that”—she waved her gravy-stained empty plate—“I’m on to dessert now, and see the crystal dish of chocolates there in the middle of the table?”
Addie nodded.
“The serving tongs seem to have disappeared, and there, right on top, is a delicious-looking chocolate mint patty. But I’m not a fan of those, and I want the chocolate-covered cherry one right under it, but I don’t want to poke around for it in the dish with my fingers. Could you, please?”
“I see.” Addie chuckled and plucked the mint patty from the dish and set it on the edge of her plate.
Luella excitedly removed the chocolate-covered cherry from the dish and popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes. A smile of deep satisfaction crossed over her face. “Mm . . . perfection. There, now I’m done eating.” She dabbed a napkin to the corner of her lip. “The television crews just arrived and are outside setting up. So, I’ll head over to the parking lot to pick up the bus. I should be back in about fifteen minutes, and hopefully by then they’ll be ready to roll.” She turned on her heel, sashayed into the office, and called back over her shoulder, “See you downstairs then.”
Luella grabbed her red leather satchel from behind the desk, removed the four books they had discovered earlier, shouldered her handbag, closed the office door, and marched off toward the staircase.
“I guess it’s officially going to happen,” Addie whispered to Paige.
“I thought it was already official.”
“It is, but in fifteen minutes there will be documented video evidence, and, boy, I’m going to need to re-watch that over and over again until it sinks in how much money I spent today.”
“Fifteen minutes?” cried Paige in protest. “I’ll never get through this plate of food by then.”
“Start shoveling,” said Addie with a short laugh as she brought a forkful up to her lips.
“Addie? Addie Greyborne? Is that you?”
She spun around and gaped. A striking, stubble-chinned man with a lustrous head of brown-sugar-colored hair smiled at her. She snapped her mouth shut and stared into a pair of jewel-like cognac-brown eyes. “Tony?”
“I can’t believe it. What are you doing in Pen Hollow?”
“Me?” she cried, dropping her plate on the end corner of the buffet table. “What about you?”
“I’m here on business.”
“Me too, but what—I can’t believe—this is so weird after all these years.”
“I know, right?” He trailed his fingers through his wavy hair. “I never thought I’d see you again, and yet here we are in Pen Hollow of all places.”
“What happened to you? I mean . . . wow! I can’t believe this.” She looked at Paige and then back at Tony. “It’s so weird. I thought I saw you earlier today and then decided I must be seeing things.”
Paige squealed. “I told you we should have gone back to see if it was him.”
“Umm, Tony, this is my friend Paige.”
He nodded in greeting.
“She’s right though,” said Addie, trying to formulate her thoughts. “I guess we should have gone back, but I couldn’t believe it was really you I saw because you just disappeared senior year, not a word, a letter, a call, nothing. You fell off the face of the earth it seemed.”
“Ah, yes, that was an interesting year. Let’s get out of here and grab a drink over at the hotel bar, and I can tell you my long story of woe, and you can fill me in on the last sixteen years of your life. How does that sound?”
“Oh, Tony, really, there’s nothing better that I’d like to do, but this evening isn’t a good time, you see—”
“It’s okay.” He waved his hands. “You don’t need to explain. After all this time, I can’t expect you to change your plans instantly for me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to catch up. It’s just that tonight’s not a good night.”
“Look, I’ll be in town for another month or so before I head back to England. We can get together another time.”
“I thought I detected a bit of an English accent.”
“Yes, it’s where I call home now, but my grandmother passed away last Christmas, and there are a number of loose ends I’ve had to tie up. It’s taking longer than I figured it would.”
“Maisie Radcliff, the benefactor of the library association, was your grandmother?”
“Yes, and was the benefactor to be more precise. Things have changed since she—”
“Addie,” interrupted Patricia. “I see you’ve met our local bestselling author.”
Addie stared blankly at Tony.
“Anthony Radcliff?” Patricia said, giving Addie a curious look.
“You’re the Anthony Radcliff?” Addie stared widemouthed at him. “The mysterious author of some of my favorite gothic horror novels?”
“Guilty as charged.” He grinned impishly. “But don’t feel bad for not recognizing me as him. I don’t like being in the limelight, so I don’t allow photos of me to be published.” His high cheekbones turned a rosy shade of red.
Addie staggered a step back. “I can see that we do have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Patricia.” Bea, the brown-haired, skittish, mouselike assistant librarian, pulled on her blouse sleeve. “I hate to interrupt, but the sheriff called and asked if you can go to the corner of Sea Spray Drive and the town council building.”
Patricia swiped at her assistant’s hand as though it were an annoying insect. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“But he said it’s important,” Bea said, her eyes filling with tears.
“What on earth could be so important? Did Luella forget the bus keys or something? If that’s it, I’m not going anywhere. Why in the world would I want to be a party to her selling our bookmobile out from under us?”
“That’s just the thing.” Bea choked back a trickle of tears. “I guess there’s been an accident and . . . Luella’s dead.”
Chapter 7
Addie stared into the sink of steaming, bubbly water. Her mind and hands were disjointed in thought and action. She couldn’t shake the sheriff’s news and the sick grumblings in the pit of her stomach over what happened this evening. Luella’s dead and the bookmobile is a write-off.
“Addie, you’ve been washing the same pan for over five minutes. I’m fairly certain it’s clean by now.”
She gave Tony a weak smile. “I suppose you’re right.” She rinsed it and handed it to him to dry.
“Even though I love spending this time with you, which is the only reason why I volunteered to help clean up after the dinner came to such an abrupt end, I hadn’t counted on receiving the silent treatment, especially when we have so much catching up to do.” He wiped the pan with a dish towel and stacked it on the sideboard by the large farmhouse sink.
“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s been so long, and we do have a lot to talk about. But I’m just sick about what happened this evening. It’s all so sad and . . . never mind.” She shook her head, rinsed another pan, and handed it to him.
“If you ask me, the real tragedy is in the damage to the bus you had the pleasure of owning for all of an hour.”
“Tony!”
“It’s true, isn’t it? Hadn’t you just paid for it? That’s a big financial hit for you.”
“Yes, and that’s unfortunate, but the real tragedy is a woman died tonight.”
“Did you know her well?”
“No, I only met her today, but that’s not the point.”
“If you knew her like the rest of us did, you wouldn’t be so heartbroken over her death.” He moved the stack of pans from the side table to a space on the counter by the stove.
