Murder of a Bookstore Babe (16 page)

Wally stepped into the hallway and yelled, “Hey, anyone around?”

He had just taken a deep breath to call out again when Judy came rushing up the stairs, still drying her hands on a paper towel. She wore her shiny brown hair to her shoulders and had a light dusting of freckles across her button nose. Her wholesome good looks reminded Skye of the old TV show character Gidget. And the pink and black polka-dotted skirt and pink cotton T-shirt she wore reinforced that girl-next-door image.

Skye stepped out from behind Wally and raised her hand in a small wave. “Hi, Judy.”

“Hi, Skye.” After ditching the paper towel in the trash can, Judy apologized. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chief Boyd. I was in the bathroom. It sure would be nice if there was one up here. Oh, well. As my grandma used to say, if wishes were horses, we’d all be in the Kentucky Derby.” She smiled at them both. “I’m so glad to see you two.”

“What’s up?” Wally took his notepad from his pocket. “Officer Martinez said you had something urgent to discuss with me.”

“I do.” Judy fished a key ring from her pocket, then walked around Wally and Skye. “Let me lock up and I’ll show you. It’s easier than trying to explain.”

“Sure.” Skye glanced at Wally. What did she need to show them?

After Judy secured the library’s entrance, she motioned for them to follow her. “They’re in my office.” Once they had squeezed into the tiny space, she pointed to a pile of books. A paper grocery bag was pushed down around them. “These do not belong to the library.”

“Oh?” Wally’s voice was neutral. “Then how did they get here?”

“They were deposited into our remote box sometime between four p.m. on Saturday and noon Sunday,” Judy explained. “You know, the one in the parking lot that people can drive up to and return books without getting out of their car.”

“Right.” Wally nodded. “When did you realize these weren’t library books?”

Skye guessed these were the stolen books, but she couldn’t tell what Wally was thinking.

“I didn’t have a chance to go through the returns until this afternoon,” Judy said. “I’m on my own on Sunday, and my part-timer doesn’t come in until one on Monday. But as soon as I saw them, I knew.” She pointed to a small volume on top of the pile. “This is a first edition of
The Velveteen Rabbit
.” Her finger hovered over the cover. “Usually if there are books that aren’t ours, I assume they are donations for the yearly used book sale the Friends put on, but this book is so rare, I knew . . .” She trailed off.

“What did you know?” Skye asked. Why was Judy taking so long to get to the point?

“My first thought was to return it to the owner. Then I saw the other titles”—Judy’s voice held a note of excitement—“and figured that they must be the rare books stolen from Tales and Treats this past weekend.”

“Let’s see.” Wally flipped a page in his notepad and without touching the books compared them to what he had written there. “Yep, these are the ones.” He made a checkmark next to each item on the list. “They’re all here.”

“Which makes you wonder.” Skye tapped her chin. “Why bother to steal a bunch of valuable books, then dump them in the library return bin within twelve hours of taking them? It’s not as if the thief had a chance to find out he couldn’t sell the books.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Judy gave her a beaming smile. “Our usual donations are worn-out paperbacks, encyclopedias, and
Reader’s Digest
condensed sets.”

“So you don’t think our thief was altruistic?” Skye’s lips curled upward.

“I seriously doubt they were meant as a donation.” Judy grinned back.

“Did you touch the books?” Wally asked.

“No.” Judy shook her head. “I pushed the sack down, and the top book tipped me off.”

“How did you hear about them?” Wally frowned. “I left orders that the details be kept quiet. The list was only to go to other dealers.”

“Oh.” Judy’s cheeks turned red, and she studied her pink ballet flats. “I’d rather not say.”

Skye put her hand on the other woman’s arm. “You’re dating Anthony, aren’t you?” She figured pillow talk was responsible for the leak.

“Yes,” Judy whispered. “But it’s not his fault. I saw his notebook and kind of . . . uh . . . took a peek. I was curious about the new bookstore.” She glanced quickly at Skye, then away. “I was a little afraid that people would sell Risé and Orlando their used books instead of donating to our sale. Or that our readers would buy from them rather than borrowing from us.”

“And if your circulation goes down, so does your budget,” Skye guessed.

Judy nodded. “I just wanted to see what kind of books they were interested in.”

“Anthony shouldn’t have left his notes lying around.” Wally scowled.

“True,” Skye agreed. “And I’m sure if you explain that to him, he won’t do it again.”

“Maybe.” Wally’s frown didn’t lessen. “But I should suspend him.”

“No!” Judy cried. “He’s such a sweet guy, and it was my fault.”

“Besides”—Skye shot Wally a pleading look—“his goof actually ended up being helpful.”

“Well . . .” Wally hesitated.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Skye cajoled. “Even a police officer.”

“Okay.” Wally stared sternly at Judy. “But no more snooping.”

“Cross my heart,” the librarian promised, making an emphatic
X
on her chest.

“Good.” Wally ended the matter. “You both stay here while I run next door and get Martinez.”

The two women made small talk until Wally returned with the officer and an evidence collection kit. He put on rubber gloves, inserted the paper sack along with the books into a plastic bag, then tied it off. After sticking a signed evidence tag on the outside, he handed it to Zelda and instructed her to take it to the county crime lab for testing.

After saying good-bye to Judy, Wally and Skye headed toward the parking lot. When they reached her car, she said, “I suppose you have to go back to the station. With this new lead and all, you probably have to work.”

“There’s nothing to work on until we get the lab results.” Wally brushed a curl out of her eyes. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Actually, I had a surprise planned.” Skye took his hand and kissed the palm. “For being such a good sport about the annulment.”

“I’m glad to get it if it makes you happy.” Wally traced her lips with his fingertip, then trailed it down her neck. “You know I’d do anything for you.” He grinned. “But a surprise sounds nice.”

“Good.” Skye opened the door of the Bel Air. “Get in and leave everything to me.”

“Lead on.” He unbuckled his utility belt and took off his tie, throwing both in the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat. “You’re full of surprises lately, but I’m ready for anything you got.”

Skye smiled mysteriously, jumped into the car, and started the engine. She refused to answer his questions as she drove, but when he guessed correctly, she finally admitted they were going to the Scumble River Recreation Club. It had been such a mild fall, the board had decided to leave the club open for the month of September. It was usually closed after Labor Day to everyone but hunters and people wanting to go sledding.

Skye tuned the radio to 94.7 FM, her favorite oldies station. She would always be a country music fan, but lately she had been in the mood for something different, and WLS played the best variety.

Although when “Right Back Where We Started From” poured out of the speakers, the irony wasn’t lost on her. Judy’s news had put them back to square one in the investigation. Skye opened her mouth to comment but stopped herself. She knew she couldn’t resist talking about the case for long, but she’d hold out as long as possible. Wally deserved a reward for all she was putting him through in order to marry her.

When they arrived, she handed Wally her key and he unchained the barricade barring their entrance into the private club, then chained it back up once she drove through. From ten in the morning until six in the evening, a guard was on duty. He or she checked membership identification, punched guest cards, and unlocked the gate, but after hours, members had to fend for themselves.

Once Wally was back inside the car, Skye drove a short way up a narrow gravel road bordered by grassy areas dotted with trees and picnic tables—all empty at this time of day. Just before the main beach area, which had locker rooms and a pavilion, Skye turned down a dirt path that led to a small lake at the back of the club. She parked on the grass and hopped out of the Bel Air.

Popping the trunk, she handed Wally a cooler and grabbed a basket and an old bedspread, then led him toward the lake. It was a short, steep hike down to the water, but that slope provided them with privacy from the gaze of anyone casually driving by. As she had hoped, the beach was deserted. They were alone at last.

Wally helped Skye spread the quilt on the sand, then sat down and took off his shoes and socks. “Too bad you didn’t tell me we were coming out here. I’d have brought my swimsuit.”

“Don’t worry.” Skye’s expression was poker-faced as she kicked off her sandals. “We have everything we need.” She handed him a Beck’s and a bottle opener before unpacking their picnic supper.

“When did you arrange all this?” Wally took a swig of the ice-cold beer.

“I swung by the supermarket before meeting you at the church.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want me to pick you up,” Wally deduced.

“Yep.” Skye put a paper plate heaped with fried chicken, potato salad, and biscuits in front of him, along with a napkin wrapped around a plastic fork and knife. “You’re always doing such nice things for me. I thought it was about time I reciprocated.”

“Sugar”—Wally’s voice deepened—“you have no idea all the nice things I’d like to do for you.”

“We should probably talk about that, now that we’re engaged.”

“What do you mean?” Wally bit into the chicken leg he’d picked up.

“There’s a lot of stuff I haven’t asked you about and probably should have.” Skye stared at the smooth blue water. “For instance, I had no idea you hadn’t been in touch with Darleen since she left here two years ago, or that you two had had a prenup.”

“Oh.” Wally wiped his fingers on a napkin. “What else?”

“Money.” Skye took a deep breath. “I know your father is wealthy, but I’m completely in the dark about what your financial situation is like.” Her stomach felt queasy. She hated discussing issues like this, but she summoned up a smile. “You know I pretty much live paycheck to paycheck and plow anything extra into my house.”

“Money never seemed that important to you.” His tone was cautious.

“It’s not the cash per se,” Skye hurried to explain. This was what she’d been afraid of. Growing up rich, Wally had probably been pursued by a lot of women. “It’s how money affects people.”

“Ah, now I understand your concern.” He scooted nearer. “Okay. I don’t have a trust fund. I do have a small inheritance from my mother, which would be about enough for us to pay cash for a really nice house. As for my father’s empire, I don’t know who’s in his will or what he’s done about the company, but I doubt my name is mentioned.” He took her hand. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes.” Skye kissed his cheek. “I’m not crazy, and I like being comfortably well-off as much as the next girl, but the thought of being insanely wealthy scares the heck out of me.”

“Me, too.” Wally hugged her. “Anything else you want to know?”

“Not at the moment.” She had considered asking him whether he wanted children but could handle only one big life-changing question a day. And considering the annulment might take a year or more, she had time to work herself up to that topic.

“Good. I don’t want us to have any secrets.” Wally kissed her. “I want us both to go into this marriage with our eyes wide open, so ask away anytime.”

“You, too,” Skye said. Wally had worked with her mother for more than fifteen years, and even though May did not want him as a son-in-law, there was no way she had kept her mouth shut on her favorite topic—her kids. Which meant Wally already knew everything about Skye, so she felt pretty safe offering complete disclosure.

After they finished eating, Skye brought out a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. “Are you ready for dessert, or would you rather wait a bit?”

“Definitely wait a while.” Wally patted his flat stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

“Me, too.” Skye crawled over and sat between Wally’s legs, resting her back against his chest. “So, what do you think about this latest development with the bookstore case?”

“Probably the same as you.” Wally pulled her closer and rested his chin on top of her head. “Burglary was
not
the motive for the murder.”

“I agree, but what makes you so sure?”

“The victim was hit over the head. Then the bookshelves were pushed over on top of her.”

Skye contemplated that piece of information for a moment, then said, “You’re inferring that if the thief had already knocked her out, thus enabling his or her escape, why also crush Kayla? The crook would only do that if he or she wanted her dead.”

“Exactly.” Wally nodded. “And even if the criminal killed Kayla so she couldn’t identify him or her, then why attempt a robbery in the first place when it was clear someone was still in the store? The lights were probably still on. And since we didn’t find any evidence of forced entry, the door was still probably unlocked, too. Which means anyone could have walked in and caught the bad guy in the act. Most thieves wait for the place to be empty.”

“Hmm.” Skye bit her lip. “Good point.”

“Those pieces of information, along with the books turning up in the library return box, make me think we’re after a murderer, not a thief who killed someone in the course of a burglary.” Wally’s voice was confident.

“Great.” Skye’s tone was resigned. Should she mention Xavier’s involvement with the bookstore? No. If Kayla was the intended victim, the fact that he had invested in the business wasn’t relevant.