Everybody Knows (Sunnyside #1) (8 page)

BOOK: Everybody Knows (Sunnyside #1)
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Chapter Seven
 

Upon closer inspection,
the graffiti looked more polished, edgy, and less random than Harper had first
thought. Maybe the distinctive style was a clue to the perpetrator even though
she couldn’t detect a particular tag for the scenes. Surely someone who could
paint like that had made a name for him- or herself in the area.

She thought about it while observing the
interaction between Liam and the other three men. She witnessed the confident,
relaxed, and smiling side of Liam, on equal ground with the others. When he
waved them in Harper’s direction, Hugh McMahon slipped out a side door.

Well-made clothes always drew Harper’s eye, and
the larger of the two men in civilian clothes knew how to dress. His collared
shirt and pants were tailored to fit his extra-large body. Even his shoes were
made of good Italian.

The smaller man had on well-worn jeans and a
chambray work shirt with the sleeves rolled back. He had a short-clipped,
no-nonsense haircut under a ball cap with a tractor logo on it. Wire-rimmed
glasses didn’t hide the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. His square shoulders
and perfect posture reminded Harper of the few military men she’d known.
Despite his casual attire, he exuded an air of authority.

The uniformed guy was mid-thirties and muscular.
He removed his uniform cap before speaking. “You must be Harper Simmons, the
new librarian. Welcome to Sunnyside.” His hand was calloused when she shook it,
firm and strong. “I’m Sheriff Jim Bowman. This is Mayor Mick Willoughby and
town council member, Bert Marshall.”

“A pleasure to meet you in person,” she said to
the Mayor and Bert and then turned back to the Sheriff. “I understand there’s a
new baby at your house. Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” He rubbed his hand over tired eyes.

“A girl, right?”

“Yep, Maisie Rose. My wife and I sure hit the
jackpot. She’s an angel, even if she did keep us up most of last night.”

“I hear that’s a hazard with newborns.” Harper
admired the man’s unabashed enthusiasm for his child. “I hope I get to meet the
baby and your wife soon.”

“You will. We plan to take her to the Fourth of
July Festival and show her off for a little while,” he said and then turned to
business. “I ran into Zach last night, and he filled me in on the situation
here. I’ll need to ask some questions and get a statement from you when you
have a few minutes.”

“Now is good, unless Mayor Willoughby and Mr.
Marshall need to speak to me first.”

“We aren’t too formal around here. Feel free to
call us Mick and Bert, please,” the Mayor said.

She flashed a smile of pleasure at the request.
“I’d be happy to, if you’ll call me Harper.”

“Absolutely,” Bert agreed. “We’ll do it. You’re
about the same age as my daughter, and it seems weird to use a title instead of
your name.”

“But we’re not here to get in your hair,” the
Mayor said. “After Zach called last night, Bert and I agreed to take a look
around before our meeting today. You do what you need to do, and we’ll see you
at noon.”

The two men slapped Jimbo on the back and headed
off on their own.

For someone who’d been up all night with a crying
baby, the sheriff’s report was accurate and complete. Harper didn’t have much
to add. He agreed that some of the damage had a personal vibe to it, but he
didn’t know who was being targeted or why.

“I’ll figure it out, Miss Simmons,” he assured
her. “Meanwhile, I’ll send a copy of the report to the town council so the
insurance claim can be filed. I guess you’ll need a copy for your benefactor,
too.”

“Yes, I will. But, Sheriff, do—”

“You might as well get used to calling me Jimbo,
ma’am. Everyone around here does.”

“Thank you, Jimbo, and I’m not too used to
answering to ‘ma’am,’ if you’d rather call me Harper.”

Looking up from his notes, he nodded. “Sure
thing.”

“Before you go, I wanted to ask if you know which
kids around here are graffiti artists? Are you familiar with their tags? Some
of this looks too sophisticated for casual spraying. And most painters have
their own distinctive style.”

He gave her a poker face. “It sounds like you know
a bit about the subject.”

“In Chicago, many people consider graffiti an
acceptable urban art form.”

“Do they now?” He pushed his cap back and
scratched his forehead. “Around here we call it defacement of property.”

“That’s what I call it, too, when it’s sprayed all
over the walls of my library. But under different circumstances, there have
been many museum exhibits showcasing some of the artists ‘work’ in larger
cities.”

Scowling, he scanned the walls. “I doubt we have
an accomplished artist at work here.”

“Right, but it does point to a hobbyist with
talent and experience. A couple of artists gave a demonstration at the library
where I worked, and I learned that many stylists have their own distinctive
style and a personal signature they call ‘tagging’. That might be helpful in
tracking down this artist.”

“I’ll look into it, ma’am .” His clipped tone made
Harper’s shoulder’s slump.

Just when she thought she’d gotten off to a good
start with at least one person, she had to go and offend him by accusing kids
in his town of causing some of this damage. And he didn’t look too happy about
Harper telling him how to do his job either.

After the three official visitors left, work got
seriously underway. Harper was knee-deep in piles of books when a slim Indian
girl sought her out. The beautiful soft green of her sari enhanced the creamy
mocha of her skin.

“Pardon the interruption,” she said, with a
lilting accent and quiet dignity. “I am Daxina Patel, and I am looking for the
new librarian?”

“That would be me.” Harper smiled and wiped her
hands on her shorts. “Harper Simmons. Welcome to the library.”

“Thank you, I’m here to talk to you about cleaning
the library.”

“Great, we can use all the help we can get.”

“Help, yes.” Daxina paused a moment to look at the
bustle all around her. “But at this moment, no.”

Nonplussed, Harper agreed. “Okay, then, if you
want to help on another day, I’ve started a signup sheet with days and hours
over on the Circulation Desk.”

“I’ll sign up before I go,” Daxina said. “But I’m
here to talk to you about my brother’s job.”

“Who is your brother? And what is his job?”

“My family owns the local QuickStop. My brother,
Bilal, was moonshining as the library’s night custodian. Is that the right
word? Moonshine?”

“I think you mean moon
lighting
as the library’s night custodian. Working a second job at
night.”

“Ah, yes, that is what I mean. He would like to
have his job back if you are going to hire someone again.”

“Ah.” Harper was happy to finally see a
connection. “Why are you here instead of your brother?”

“He is out of town today. He will come and help
with the renovations as soon as he has returned. Several members of my family
took turns covering his shift when he was unable to work. The library board
didn’t object to this practice so long as the work was done and someone
appeared when scheduled.”

“When did he quit working for the library?”

“He didn’t. At first, when the library closed, we
continued to keep the library in good cleanliness, but the library board had no
more money. The town council, they stop paying Bilal, so he stopped coming.”

Harper’s temper spiked at the council’s
irresponsibility. “When was that?”

“In March, about two months after the library
closed. My family thought the library would still need our services, but Mr.
Whitherford said no.”

She would see if her budget could cover the
payment to Bilal’s family for the work they had done. She’d discuss it in her
next conversation with Andrew Berkman. “Where is Bilal that he couldn’t come in
today?”

“He is in Urbana at the University.” Her quiet
lilting accent enhanced her words.

“Does he work there, too?”

“No.” Daxina lifted her head with pride. “He goes
to school. Most often, he takes the classes online, but sometimes he must
attend in person. That is when my other brother or another family member works
in his place.”

“I can’t make any promises, because this is the
first I’ve heard of your brother. But I’ll hold the position open for Bilal
while I look into it.”

“Thank you, we are most grateful.” Daxina turned
to leave but hesitated. “If you will be hiring, I also would like a job at the
library.”

“In what capacity?”

“I am skillful with computers. I would be useful
in that way.”

“That’s something every library needs, but we’re a
long way from setting up computers. There’ll be notices placed in all the
appropriate places when we’re ready to take applications.” She moved to her
laptop on the Circulation Desk and made a note in the folder on employment
requests.

The woman’s serene face creased in concern. “But
you will consider me when it is time?”

“If you have the necessary qualifications.”

“Yes, I do, thank you,” she said, still reserved,
but clearly relieved. “I would very much like to work in this communal place of
knowledge.”

“That’s how I feel about it, too.”

Well. Maybe she’d finally met someone who would be
a friend.

Shortly before noon, Harper left Liam in charge,
rushed back to Rachel’s, washed up, and changed into more professional
clothing. She teamed a crisp white blouse and a black and white
geometric-patterned skirt with some classy Christian Louboutin knock-offs
because nothing shouted confidence like sassy red soles.

She refashioned her hair into a French twist,
applied a smattering of makeup she feared would melt away as soon as she hit
the wall of heat outside, popped in some earrings, and clasped on a chunky
necklace that always brought her luck, She was ready to go.

Or as ready as she would ever be.

Harper had participated in a Skype interview with five
members of the Sunnyside Town Council and the mayor before Andrew Berkman
officially hired her. Now that she’d met, Mick, Bert, and Zach, that left only
four unfamiliar officials.

Entering the meeting room of the Administration
Building, Harper noted the lackluster room space off vibes more like a DMV than
a power seat of local government. Mick and Bert were seated at a substantial
U-shaped table along with the four others. Her spirits dipped with Zach’s
absence.

The nine or ten other people occupying the room
looked up and gawked at Harper, but no one came forward to greet her, not even
the rumpled guy slumped in the corner of the room with a load of equipment that
she pegged as a reporter.

Harper took a seat on one of the folding chairs
that lined the room and sized up the council members. These people could go a
long way in making or breaking the next few years for her.

The grant money was hers to use as she saw
fit—within reason. The council would oversee all expenditures and approve or
reject expenses over a certain amount. If they didn’t approve of her or weren’t
in the mood to cooperate, they could make her job very difficult.

Mick occupied the seat of prominence. His
tractor-logo ball cap sat on the table in front of him. He reviewed a stack of
papers and made notes on a legal pad while chatting with Bert Marshall.

Behind Mick a young, fresh-faced girl sat at a
table. Several locals hovered around her. From the bits and pieces Harper
overheard, it sounded like they were asking to have a topic put on the day’s
agenda. They each spoke to the girl in turn and then took a seat. They
noticeably left several empty chairs on either side of Harper.

At five minutes before twelve, Mick checked his
watch, removed his glasses, and stood. He rounded the table and came toward
Harper with his hand extended. “As Sunnyside’s Mayor, I’m also chairman of the
town council. If you’re ready to get started, I’ll introduce you to the
others.”

“Ready when you are.”

He waved her toward the meeting table. “First, meet
Barbara Gentry, the only woman currently serving on the council. And let me
tell you, she keeps the rest of us in line.” The fifty-ish woman with
steel-gray hair stood. She had an almost crushing handshake. Her toned body,
full and firm, was covered in a denim skirt and an American Flag T-shirt. Her
feet were shoved into red, white, and blue tennis shoes. She was either very
patriotic or this was her salute to Independence Day.

The woman exuded manic energy and competency.
“Hello. I hear you’ve already met my daughter.”

“Have I?” Harper’s heart skipped a beat. She had
so hoped to make a good impression on these people, but what were the chances
of that if her run in with her neighbor was already widely known? “And who is
that?”

“Brianna Dempsey. She lived across the street from
you.”

“Yes, we met last evening.” Without anything
positive to say about the daughter, Harper tried another tactic. “Her three
children and dog are adorable.”

“They are, aren’t they? Grandchildren are a
blessing, Ms. Simmons. One of the only good things about getting older, as far
as I can tell. Everything else is just failing eyesight, sagging body parts,
and regrets about what might have been.”

Down the table, Bert suddenly started coughing.

“You okay, Bert?” the Mayor asked.

“Yeah, Bert. You okay?” Barbara lifted an eyebrow,
handed him a bottle of water, and moved down to pat him on the back—where her
palm eased up to caress the nape of his neck.

Next up was a tall, thin guy with a big nose and
oily black hair. He looked like an actor auditioning for
The Sopranos
. Wearing dark polyester pants and a skinny black tie,
he topped the outfit with the badly misnamed “short-sleeved dress shirt.”
Everyone in the fashion industry knew that dress shirts were
not
short-sleeved.

Introduced as Nelson Whitherford, Harper could
only think of him as Mr. Slick. His slimy handshake was a little too friendly,
prompting her with the urge to wipe off her hands. “Honored,” he said but
shifted his gaze away from hers.

Next came Daniel Asher. Younger than the others by
far, probably early thirties like Zach. With one hand, he’d been scrolling
through an electronic tablet in front of him. With the other, he clutched a
cell phone. He set down both devices long enough to stand and meet Harper.

“I’m also President of the Chamber of Commerce,
Ms. Simmons, and have an insurance agency here in town.” He slipped his card
into her hand. “Let me know if I can be of assistance to you in any way during
your stay in Sunnyside.”

The slender man wearing baggy shorts with his leg
in a cast was Malcolm Newcomb. Hard-working, conscientious, well-meaning, and
supportive, but not a rule-breaker. Or a leader.

In his turn, Malcolm pumped her hand a little too
long, like an eager puppy wagging his tail. “I apologize for not meeting you
last night. Zach said he welcomed you in my place and everything worked out
fine.”

“Absolutely. How are you feeling today?”

“Still experiencing a lot of pain.” He tapped his
cast with a metal crutch. “Didn’t want to take another pain pill until after
the meeting today, but I’ll be happy when I can get back home and lie down
again.”

“Good idea, Mal,” Mick agreed. “We won’t wait for
Zach. He has a lot on his plate today. We’ll catch him up later. And you’ve
already met Bert.”
GQ
man gave her a
jaunty salute. “If you’ll take a seat, Harper, we’ll have the call to order.
Are you ready, Cassie?”

The sweet-looking girl came forward. Moving into
the seat on Mick’s left, she carried a folder, clipboard, and pen. “Ready,
Daddy.”

Sliding his bifocals into place, he took the
clipboard from her. “Miss Simmons, this is my daughter Cassie. She’s a court
stenographer and secretary for the council meetings.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Simmons.” She gave
Harper the friendliest smile she’d received in the town so far. “Love your
shoes.”

Mitch shook his head fondly when everyone else
laughed. “Cassie’s role of secretary is an honorary position. she’s here to
record the minutes of the meeting. However, this isn’t a closed-door meeting.
She can participate if she chooses to, as may any other citizen of the town.
Those who wish to introduce a new topic are encouraged to fill out a petition
to have their request placed on the agenda before the start of the meeting.”

With a bang of the gavel, he began. “This meeting
is officially called to order.”

He then issued a formal welcome to Harper. “I hope
you’ll join the council for lunch after today’s meeting. We’ll adjourn to my
law office across the street, where we can chat informally and begin getting
acquainted.”

With so much to do at the library, Harper would
have preferred to refuse, but decided getting to know the council members was
important, too. She’d attend the luncheon and eat fast. “Thank you, I’d be
delighted.”

He then invited her to a social hour in her honor
and a softball-game-slash-bake-sale-fundraiser for the library during the
Fourth of July celebration on Wednesday. A
softball-game-slash-bake-sale-fundraiser? Yes, please! Just the kind event
she’d been looking forward to. And how generous of them to have a fundraiser to
benefit the library. Extra money for operating costs would always be
appreciated.

“The festival lasts all day and almost every
able-bodied person attends,” Barbara explained. “There are food booths, rides,
games, and fireworks. The Man versus the People softball game is one of the
highlights.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Today’s luncheon and
tomorrow’s celebration would provide her with the opportunity to begin making a
place for herself in the community.

“I understand Zach met you at his uncle’s house
last night,” Mick said. “How’d that go? Does it meet your expectations?”

“The house exceeds my expectations,” she assured
him. “Maybe you haven’t heard about the issue with the floors, though.”

As she explained the situation, Zach appeared,
carrying a small brown bag. He winked at her, took the empty seat at the big
table, and provided details about the floors and Harper’s temporary lodging at
Rachel’s.

“Ah.” Mick looked at her over his glasses. “That
explains the reports about the two of you wandering through back alleys last
night. Are you satisfied with this arrangement, Miss Simmons?”

“I am.” She resisted the urge to raise her right
hand, like a witness under oath.

“Save your receipts for any expenses you incur
while you’re waiting for access to your permanent residence. You’ll be
reimbursed, within reason, through funds from the grant. When will the house be
ready?”

“Should be tomorrow,” Zach said. “I stopped by
there on my way here. That’s why I was late.”

“Keep us informed of any further delays,” the
mayor instructed Zach and then turned to Harper. “Now, about the current
condition of the library. After viewing its deplorable state this morning, I
understand why it was necessary to call in volunteers and put them to work
before submitting a report and waiting for our approval, but that
will be
the standard procedure in the
future.”

“I understand.” Unless she was mistaken, his tone
contained a hint of disapproval. “Zach and I toured the building last night and
discovered its condition was well beyond the shabby neglect I’d been led to
expect. We both agreed, as did Andrew Berkman, that it needed immediate
attention.”

“It’s not that bad.” Nelson flapped his tie when
all eyes turned in his direction. “At least, it wasn’t when we closed it last
fall.”

“If by ‘not that bad’, it’s all right that
homeless people have camped out in it, building the occasional small fire,
water has leaked from an unknown source ruining most of the books, wood
finishings, and drywall, and graffiti artists have painted most of the first
floor, then I guess you’re right. It’s not that bad.”

Nelson stared at her indignantly. “How did that
happen?”

The rest of the council shook their heads or
shrugged. “It’s true.” Zach leaned back in his chair and stretched out his long
legs. “We voted to discontinue maintenance on the building when the new budget
went into effect at the beginning of the year, but the Sheriff’s Department was
going to maintain regular patrols. And wasn’t Bilal Patel going to check on the
interior once a month? Why didn’t he report that the property was being
disrespected, vandalized, and otherwise ruined?”

More shrugs and head shakes.

An elderly lady chose that moment to stand and
speak. “Sorry to interrupt, Mick, but my granddaughter, Amy, said she’s heard
some of the other kids have been sneaking in there at night to party. She said
if the sheriff patrolled there at all, he didn’t pay them much mind. Just
thought you should know.”

“Thank you for the information, Martha.” He made a
note on his yellow legal pad. “I would have liked to have known about this
several months ago.”

“Just heard about it a couple of days ago myself.”
The older woman shrugged and sat back down. “Thought you knew. Seemed like
everyone else did.”

While the others gave Martha their full attention,
Nelson kept his gazed fixed on his phone.

“Bilal’s sister came to see me this morning.”
Harper explained about Bilal being told his services wouldn’t be needed after
he had already cleaned for several weeks and then not getting paid for those
final weeks. “Why wasn’t he told you weren’t going to continue paying?”

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