Due or Die (23 page)

“What’s going on?” she asked Carrie. “Why are you standing out here? You’ll catch your death.”

“Someone’s been in my house,” Carrie said. Her voice quavered a bit. “They trashed it.”

“Oh, no,” Marcia said. “When?”

Kyle and Carrie shrugged. “This is the first time we’ve been back.”

“Have you seen anyone around the house?” Lindsey asked.

“No,” Marcia said. “Although…”

“What?” Carrie asked. “Anything you noticed might be important.”

“Well, it wasn’t me. It was Frank,” she said. She turned to Lindsey and added, “Frank’s my husband. I want to say it was the day before yesterday, but you know it could have been yesterday. This snow storm has really made me lose track of all time. Anyway, Frank was looking out the window and he asked me if you had gotten a new car.”

“Me?” Carrie asked.

“That’s how I reacted,” Marcia said. “I said, ‘Oh, sure, her husband was just killed, but, yeah, she’s going car shopping.’”

“Why would he think that?” Lindsey asked.

“He said he saw a strange car parked near your house. He said it was a blue sedan.”

Carrie and Lindsey exchanged a look. “Did he happen to mention anything else about it?”

“No, just that it was a woman driver, she had long brown hair like yours, and when he waved, the woman waved back. He just assumed it was you.”

Carrie and Lindsey exchanged a glance, and Lindsey said, “If she was wearing a heavy coat, it would be hard to see how tiny she is.”

“Who?” Kyle and Marcia asked at the same time.

“Marjorie Bilson,” Lindsey said. “We have to tell the police.”

“But why would Marjorie break into my house?” Carrie asked. “It makes no sense.”

“The boxes of books are missing,” Lindsey said. “It has to have something to do with that. Maybe she’s trying to get you in trouble with the Friends so that they’ll reinstate Bill. It’s hard to say what goes on in her head.”

“We don’t know what else is missing yet,” Kyle said. “The burglar could have taken more than just the books, making this a straight-up robbery. Everyone in town knows what happened to Dad and that we haven’t been in the house. It could have been anyone.”

“True,” Carrie said. “We’ll have to wait until the police let us inside again. Oh, Lindsey, you have to get back to work, don’t you?”

Lindsey glanced at the time on her cell phone. She’d been gone almost an hour. “Yes, I’d better get back.”

“Kyle can take you,” Carrie said.

He looked at his mother with concern, and Marcia said, “It’s okay, I’ll wait with her.”

“Are you sure?” Lindsey asked. “I can walk.”

“Don’t be silly,” Carrie said. “I’ll be fine.”

Kyle opened the passenger-side door for Lindsey and they headed back to the library. Occupied with their own thoughts, neither of them spoke for a few minutes and then Kyle said, “I don’t feel like I ever really knew my father. Now I’ll never get the chance.”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said. She wasn’t sure what else she could say.

Kyle shook his head. “Don’t be. Honestly, he was never really a part of Kim’s or my life. He sort of orbited around the three of us but never really participated in the family. Mom did everything from coaching Little League to chaperoning all of our field trips. When I picture my father in my mind, all I see is him in his recliner yelling at us to keep it down because he couldn’t hear his program.”

Lindsey blew out a breath. She studied the handsome young man beside her and felt sorry—for his father. By being so wrapped up in his own whatever, he had missed knowing this really bright and interesting young man. She couldn’t help but think that was terribly sad.

“I suppose it’s cold comfort, but you’ve been given an excellent life lesson by your dad,” she said. “You and your sister won’t be like that. You won’t miss out on the things that matter most.”

Kyle parked the car in front of the library and turned to smile at her. “Now I know why my mom likes you so much. You know just what to say.”

Lindsey laughed and said, “If only that were true.” She
climbed out of the car and added, “Thanks for the ride. Tell your mom to call me if there’s anything I can do or if she just wants to talk.”

“Will do,” Kyle said. With a wave, he headed back down Main Street toward his boyhood home.

Lindsey turned and walked into the library. When the doors slid open, she found Ms. Cole standing at the circulation desk with her arms crossed over her formidable front, glowering at the door.

“Mr. Tupper never took long lunches,” she said. Her lips puckered up tight, and Lindsey had to resist the urge to tell the lemon to take an antacid and calm down.

“It started as lunch,” Lindsey said. “It turned into a police investigation.”

Knowing the lemon would want to know more, Lindsey purposefully strode past her and went into her office, where she shut the door.

Five minutes passed and there was a knock. Without waiting for an invite, Beth opened the door just a crack and peeked in with one eye.

“What happened?” she asked. “Rumors are flying all over the library.”

Lindsey waved her in. Beth came in and took the seat across from her. It was only then that Lindsey realized Beth was dressed as a dog, with floppy ears and a long tail, and her nose was painted black.

“Bingo was his name-oh?” she asked.

“Yeah, it never gets old,” Beth said. She bobbed her head and her ears flapped against her face.

Lindsey was quite sure that for Beth, it never would. The woman was a walking encyclopedia of finger plays,
poems, stretches, songs, rhymes and picture books. The residents of Briar Creek had no idea how lucky they were to have such an advocate for children and reading.

“Now dish,” Beth ordered. “I have my afternoon crawlers coming in shortly.”

“Carrie and her kids went to the storage unit today and did inventory,” she said. “They found some discrepancies.”

“How so?” Beth asked.

“Several rare books worth thousands are missing,” Lindsey said. “We went out to Carrie’s house to see if the missing books were in the boxes we brought to her house on the night her husband was killed, but her house has been ransacked and those boxes are missing.”

“No!” Beth’s eyes went wide.

“Yes, and Batty Bilson was spotted by a neighbor at the house the day before.”

“Do you think she broke in?” Beth asked. “Why would she want those books? She’s not even a reader, is she? I mean she only joined the Friends to be near Bill.”

“The only thing I can figure is that she stole those books to make it look like Carrie was irresponsible with them in some crazy scheme to make Carrie look bad and get Bill reinstated.”

“That’s mental,” Beth said.

“Yeah, well, we’re not dealing with the most rational person in town now, are we?”

“But to break into someone’s house,” Beth said. “That’s serious stuff. And if she is that crazy, then we have to assume that she’s the one who shot Markus.”

“I know,” Lindsey said. “And if that’s the case, the murder may be solved.”

“What do you think will happen?” Beth asked.

“I think the police have to consider her suspect number one, don’t you?”

“Hello, ladies, I couldn’t help but overhear,” a high-pitched voice said from the door. “Who are we talking about?”

Lindsey felt her heart thump in her chest as she found herself staring into the crazy eyes of Marjorie Bilson.

“C
an I help you?” Lindsey asked. She was pleased to hear that her voice was almost normal.

Marjorie slipped around the edge of the door. The bright pink hat she was wearing had a fluffy pom-pom about the size of her head on top. It was pulled low over her brow as if she were using it to hide behind. Her coat was unbuttoned, but she still wore her scarf and mittens, also in an eye-watering shade of pink.

Lindsey could see Beth sit up straighter, as if bracing herself for the onslaught of crazy. She sat up straighter, too.

Marjorie looked at her out of the corner of her eye and said, “I was just wondering if you had decided to reinstate Bill yet.”

“It’s not really up to me,” Lindsey said. “I work with the Friends, but I’m not a member. It would be a conflict of
interest for me to get involved with the leadership of the group.”

“That didn’t stop you from getting Bill kicked out,” Marjorie said through gritted teeth. She was staring at a spot on the wall over Lindsey’s shoulder, which was completely unnerving.

Lindsey took a deep breath. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

Marjorie’s eyes got wide and focused on Lindsey for the first time, and she snapped, “Liar!”

Beth jumped up from her chair, looking ready to rumble. Lindsey rose from her chair, too, and circled the desk. She’d had it with Marjorie and her weird phone calls, almost getting run over by her in her car and most probably being locked in the shed to freeze by her, too. The fact that she had probably ransacked Carrie’s house was just the capper.

“Marjorie, let’s have a chat,” she said. She gestured for the woman to have Beth’s vacated seat. “Beth was just leaving. Let’s take this opportunity to clear the air, shall we?”

Marjorie gave her a suspicious look. Lindsey took that to mean she was crazy but perhaps not stupid. Lindsey took Beth’s elbow and led her to the door. As she pushed her through, she whispered, “Call the police.”

Beth gave her a quick nod and hurried off.

Lindsey left the door open just a crack, in case Marjorie went batty on her, and then took her seat behind her desk.

“Now, I understand that you are unhappy with me,” Lindsey said. “What can I do to make things better?”

“Make Bill the president again,” Marjorie said.

“The Friends have to make that decision,” Lindsey said.
She had a feeling this conversation was going to be as repetitive as a hamster’s run on a wheel, and they’d probably get about as far.

“You control the Friends,” Marjorie said. “They will do whatever you tell them to. That’s why they voted him out to begin with.”

“I never told anyone to vote him out,” Lindsey said.

“Then why were you at the meeting that night?” she asked. Her gaze fleetingly met Lindsey’s before moving to fixate on something behind her head.

“I was at the meeting to bear witness to the fairness of the proceedings,” Lindsey said. She did not add that she’d been there mostly to keep Bill from having a hissy fit, because she didn’t really think it would help her case with Marjorie even if it was the truth.

“Fair?” Marjorie’s voice became shrill, and Lindsey glanced out her office window, hoping to see a police car arriving. Nothing yet.

“Would you like a mint?” she asked. She pulled a canister of mints from her desk drawer and offered it to Marjorie. “They’re butter mints; they melt in your mouth.”

Marjorie frowned at her, her expression distrustful. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“I’m nice to everyone,” Lindsey said.

“Not Bill,” Marjorie retorted. She took off one mitten and then opened the canister. Snatching a fistful of mints, she shoved them in her coat pocket as if afraid Lindsey was going to grab the candy back.

She looked like a scared little kid, and Lindsey felt a pang of sympathy for her. Marjorie couldn’t help it if she
was a few cards short of a full deck. Maybe she just needed some understanding.

“I’m sorry that the Friends vote has been so upsetting for you,” Lindsey said. “But you can’t go around threatening people and trying to run them over with your car because you don’t like the way things turned out.”

Marjorie stuffed a mint in her mouth and chewed furiously.

“That sort of behavior doesn’t help anything,” Lindsey said. She spoke calmly, hoping that maybe she was getting through to Marjorie.

“You know what I think?” Marjorie asked. She swallowed her candy, and her eyes went wide, so wide that Lindsey could see white all around the irises.

“No, Marjorie, what do you think?”

Marjorie jumped from her seat and pointed a bony finger at Lindsey. Then she bellowed in a voice so loud and deep that it sounded like it came from the bowels of hell.

“I think you killed Markus Rushton, that’s what I think.”

At that moment, the door swung wide and in walked Chief Daniels.

“You had a torrid affair with Markus Rushton,” Marjorie continued, still pointing at Lindsey. “You were madly in love with him, but he ended it, and you were devastated, so you shot him and killed him.”

The chief looked at Lindsey, who gave him a bemused smile and a finger wave. “Hi.”

The chief glanced between them and then shook his head as if to clear it of confusion. Then he looked at Marjorie and said, “Marjorie, I’m
going to need you to come to the station.”

“Why?” she asked. “She’s the one you should be arresting. She’s a murderess!”

Chief Daniels stepped forward, and Marjorie started shifting her weight from foot to foot as if gauging how she could run around him and get out the door.

Chief Daniels was not a little man, however, and the odds were unlikely that she’d make it even if her reflexes were faster than his. The man just took up too much space.

“I need to talk to you about what’s been happening over the past few days.”

“What about her?” Marjorie pointed at Lindsey. “Don’t you need to question her?”

Chief Daniels turned his back to Marjorie and looked at Lindsey. He opened his eyes wide, and she figured he was trying to tell her to go with it.

“I’ve got Officer Plewicki coming to pick up Ms. Norris here.”

“So, you know she killed Markus Rushton,” Marjorie said. She looked impressed with the chief.

Lindsey opened her mouth to protest, but the chief gave her a look that clearly said
shut up
, so she did. It wasn’t easy.

“We have several people we need to question in regards to the murder,” he said. “And, of course, I need your statement.”

“Oh!” Marjorie’s little body went aquiver. “Of course I’ll give my statement. I have all kinds of information about everyone, you know.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” he said.

Lindsey watched as he led Marjorie out of her office and through the library. She exhaled and realized she’d been holding her breath for the past several minutes. There was something in those eyes of Marjorie’s that made her skin crawl.