The Librarian's Last Chapter (6 page)

CHAPTER TEN

With working at the shop and meetings for the book fair,
Marsha had yet to dig into Mrs. Grimes’s journal. Now, it was Saturday and the
day Lynn was picking her up to go dress shopping. “Lindsey, she’ll be here any
minute! Mom?”

“Settle down,” Mom called
from the kitchen. “We’re ready.”

Marsha stormed into the
kitchen and reached over the refrigerator for her M&Ms.
The
day called for her stress reliever and a
venti
-sized
coffee at the coffee shop. Her first wedding had been a quick, thrown together
affair when Marsha had donned her mother’s old wedding dress. Now, she was
shopping for a new one and had no idea what she was looking for. Should she
even wear white? As a widowed mother, maybe she should be happy with a
sundress.

“Why aren’t you smiling?”
Mom handed me a cup of coffee. “This is a fun day. We closed the shop for the
occasion.”

“I don’t think I need a
wedding dress. I can go to the department store and buy a pretty sundress I’ll
wear again.”

“Mom!” Lindsey pouted.
“I’m looking forward to this. I want a gorgeous bridesmaid dress so I’ll look
awesome in the pictures.”

“Fine, but why do I have
to wear a big frilly gown?”

“They aren’t all frilly,”
Lynn said strolling into the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind me just barging
in. The front door was unlocked. Not wise, considering Marsha is neck deep in
murder again. Oh, pretty.” She petted Prince, Mrs. Grimes’s cat, who would not
stay off the counters no matter how many times we rattled a can of marbles or
sprayed him with water.

Maybe it had something to
do with the German
Shepherd
staring up at him and
licking her lips. Or the fact that Samson the monster cat hissed everything the
fancy cat came near him.

“Mom doesn’t want to buy
a wedding dress,” Lindsey said. “I think she thinks she’s too old or
something.”

“I never said that.” I
grabbed another handful of candy. “I’m a widowed mother. This isn’t my first
marriage.”

“Nobody cares about that
anymore. Buy the wedding dress of your dreams. Oh.” Lynn popped out and
returned moments later
with four mocha
flavored
blended coffees. “I set these on the foyer table to close the door and left
them. Are we ready to go?”

I sighed. “As ready as
I’ll ever be.” I wanted to marry Duane with all my heart, but the planning that
went along with it gave me hives. I wasn’t the type to want to be the center of
attention.

We trooped out to Lynn’s
modest Toyota Corolla. Mom and Lindsey climbed in the back, leaving the shotgun
seat to me. I sipped my frozen drink and stared out the window. I knew without
asking that Lynn would take me to the ritziest wedding shop around. She didn’t
disappoint. Thirty minutes later we parked in front of an old Victorian house
turned wedding dress venue. I took a deep breath and slid out of the car.

“Don’t worry,” Lynn said.
“Leave this to me. We’ll have you looking beautiful.”

We trooped inside to be
greeted by a lovely, friendly woman with fake boobs and a genuine smile.
“Welcome to Monique’s. Which one is the bride?”

I raised my hand and
forced a smile.

“Lovely. What type of
gown are you looking for?”

I glanced in desperation
at my maid-of-honor. Lynn grinned. “Something in off-white, not too fancy, very
classy in the price range of twelve hundred dollars. We are also looking for a
mother-of-the bride dress, which we hope to get for free by also purchasing two
bridesmaids gowns.”

My best
friend the negotiator.

“I’m sure we can work
something out.” The saleslady, her nametag labeled her as Veronica, tapped a
manicured finger to her lips. “As long as we keep the bridesmaid dresses and
mother’s dress in the two hundred dollar range?”

“Perfect.” Lynn followed
her as if Lynn were the bride to be instead of me.

As we passed row after
row of dresses, I began to hyperventilate. How did anyone make a decision with
so many choices?

Veronica led us to a
round platform of mirrors and pulled back a curtain. “This is where you will
change and observe your choices. Have a seat, grab a bottle of water, and I’ll
be back with some gowns for you to look at.”

I’d rather stare down the
barrel of a gun. Seeing as that wasn’t an option at the moment, I stepped onto
a small platform and studied my petite figure. I’d lost weight in the last few
months, no longer looking like a matron. Instead, a trim thirty-six year old
with crazy auburn hair stared back at me. Maybe I could pull this off after
all. “I don’t want a veil. A headband will do just fine.”

“That should be cute,”
Lynn said.

“What will Duane lift
when he kisses you?” Mom plopped onto a plush divan.

“We’ve already kissed,
Mom. Several times.” I turned and studied my rear end. Still curvy, but the
right dress should make me look flatter.

“I’m going to glance at
the rack of bridesmaid dresses.” Lindsey disappeared around the corner.

“Okay,” Mom said. “But
there’s something romantic about a veil.”

Veronica returned with
five dresses. The first one I tried on was a vintage style with delicate lace
covering the entire satin underdress. I closed the curtain and changed. The
dress fit me like a glove. I felt like a princess. Tears welled in my eyes and
I tossed back the curtain.

Mom gasped, putting a
hand to her mouth. Lynn clapped. Lindsey froze, several gowns in different
colors in her arms. “I’ve never seen you so pretty,” she said.

“This is the one I want.”
I turned in a slow circle. The sleeves of the gown sat just off my shoulders.
The neck dipped to a V hinting at cleavage but stopping short of actually
showing any. The train swept two feet behind me.

“Try on the others
first,” Lynn said. “But that one is gorgeous.” She peeked at the price tag.
“Twelve hundred and fifty dollars. Perfect.”

I tried on a dress that
skimmed my hips and trailed onto the floor in a cathedral style train, then one
that was all smooth, but swished around my ankles. Disregarding the last two, I
tried back on the first one, running my hands over hips as soft as a baby’s
bottom. I was in love and finally knew why women put so much effort into
finding the perfect dress for their wedding. I didn’t want to take it off.

“Our turn, Mom.” Lindsey
hung up a rainbow of dresses. “I think the muted rose color will go with your
old-fashioned gown.”

I agreed, but didn’t like
her description of my “precious”. The dress was my “ring” from the Lord of the
Rings trilogy, and I didn’t want to let it go.

“Once you pick the style
you like,” Veronica said. “We can have them made in any color you choose.”

They decided on simple
off-the-shoulder gowns that fell to the knees with a sash in a slightly darker
shade than the dress. I was getting my wish, simple but elegant.
Nothing too frilly.
Even Mom didn’t disappoint. She chose a
simple sheath dress in a mango color with a small matching jacket.

“Now, all we need is to
find the perfect shoes.” Lynn drew in a deep breath. “But lunch first.”

“Let’s go to the tea shop
on Main Street.” I might as well get in a little sleuthing.

The others were in
agreement. After putting a deposit on the gowns, we headed back to River Valley
and stepped into an overly decorated front room of yet another renovated
Victorian. Norma Rae greeted us, dressed in vintage clothing to fit the era.
She led us to a small round table in an alcove. Other than one other woman, we
were the only customers.
Probably because we had to slide
into our seats sideways because of all the decorations surrounding the tables.
Folks wanted to eat with elbow room, not have to worry about knocking a
knickknack onto the floor.

“Ask her if business is
okay.” I elbowed Mom when Norma Rae left to fetch tea and sandwiches.

“It’s none of my
business.”

“Like that’s ever stopped
you before. Do it. We’re trying to establish our suspect list.” Since Norma Rae
knew Mrs. Grimes very well, it stood to reason that the woman might also know
about the treasure map.

Norma Rae returned
several minutes later with Turkey and white cheddar sandwiches and pomegranate
tea. “Enjoy.”

“Dear,” Mom glanced
around the room. “This is such a darling place. How’s business?”

“It could definitely be
better.” Norma Rae’s chin quivered. “I’m in danger of losing my home to be
honest with you. I live upstairs. Not to mention that Ingrid may have to move
in with me if she doesn’t find a way to pay off her mound of debt. I love my
daughter, but can’t abide the thought of sharing my small space with her. Oh,
why am I burdening you with my troubles?” She straightened and glanced at each
of us. “It’s my business. I’ve something in the works that will take care of
everything. Let me know if I can serve you further.” She whirled and stepped
through a curtained door.

Well, the woman
definitely seemed to need a chunk of money.
Thus, a motive
for murder under the right circumstances.
I sipped the fragrant tea.
Quite good.

“Are you happy?” Mom
wiped her mouth with an embroidered napkin. “We’ve probably ruined that poor
woman’s day by reminding her of her problems.”

“We could always give her
suggestions for running a successful business, but I doubt she’d listen.” I
picked up my sandwich and dwelled on what type of shoes I might want to go with
the dress. Maybe
a champagne
colored pair of sandals
with a kitten heel?

“I’m going to offer
anyway,” Mom said. “It’s the least we can do. You know how I like to help those
in need.”

“If she says yes, you can
prod her for more information.”

Lynn sighed. “Can’t we
have an outing without gathering clues? I’m sure Lindsey isn’t interested.”

“Yes, I am,” Lindsey
said. “We’re the three
Callahans
, a crime-solving
group of three generations.” She lifted her tea cup in a toast. “Mom and
Grandma may no longer be
Callahans
, but that stubborn
blood runs in all of our veins.”

“Isn’t that the truth.
”
Lynn shook her head. “Fine. What do you want me to do? I
might as well get in on the fun. I’ve managed to stay out of it for months.”

“Seriously?” I
straightened, not believing my good fortune. “Can you ask around the school to
see whether anyone held a grudge against Mrs. Grimes? Subtly, of course.”

“Of course.” She set her
cup on its saucer. “I can tell you right now the woman wasn’t very liked by
anyone, except for maybe Cheryl. She likes everyone, but I can bring up the
murder during prep and lunch time and see what others say.”

I reached across the table
and grabbed her hand. “You’re the best friend ever.”

“Don’t you forget it,
either.
”
She returned the squeeze. “Just don’t get me
held at gunpoint, okay? I’ll freak out.”

“I’ll do my best, but no
promises.”

“I need some gum.”
Lindsey grabbed my purse and opened it. “Mom, why do you have a gun in here?”

“
Shhh
.”
I grabbed my purse. “Don’t announce it to the world!”

“You think someone is
going to try to kill you again, don’t you?” Tears welled in my daughter’s eyes.
“I’d kind of like my children to have a grandmother.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m
perfectly safe this time.”

“What about that car
running us off the road?” Mom raised her eyebrows.

“You told me you slid in
a puddle of water.” Lindsey tossed down her napkin. “Can’t you snoop without
making people mad at you?” She stood and marched toward a door that said
restroom.

The rest of us watched
her go. I shrugged. “You can’t solve a murder without danger.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sunday afternoon, I took a break between church and supper
to finally dig through Mrs. Grimes’s journal. Her penmanship looked like a
typewriter font. Her entries were about Sir Galahad, the cat, mostly. Sometimes
she mentioned frustrations with the “insipid fools” from the book club. Way to
win friends and influence people, Mrs. Grimes.

Another entry mentioned a
deep burning desire to quit her job at the school and run off to Mexico with
the man of her dreams. Surely she didn’t mean Mr. Dean. I gagged. Reading
someone else’s private thoughts was both entertaining and embarrassing, yet I
couldn’t stop. When I reached a particularly intimate moment with her boy toy,
yes, she actually called him those
words,
I skipped to
the last few pages of the book.

Bingo! Mrs. Grimes saw
the fulfillment of everything she’d dreamed of in the form of an old pirate’s
treasure map stuck between the pages of a book. While the book itself wasn’t
worth a lot of money, she trusted the map to be real and was searching for
someone knowledgeable about old maps.

I closed the journal and
stared out my bedroom window. I’d have to give Bruce a copy of the journal and
the map. Once he found out I’d taken something from the victim’s home, he’d
arrest me for sure. I never should have told him about the map. I could mail
the journal anonymously, but he already knew I had the map in my possession.
Or, I could just put the journal back into her house. That would definitely
impede the investigation, though. I couldn’t do it. I’d have to take my chances
and pay him another visit. Two hours in the dental chair sounded like more fun.

Grabbing my purse from
the dresser, I checked my hair, then shuffled out the door, sure I’d be
spending the night in jail, or at least a few hours until Duane or Mom bailed
me out. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t keep the journal and map, not when it
might provide Bruce with the information he needed to solve the case.

I stopped in the home
office long enough to make a copy of the map on our printer. Then, I folded the
original, stuck it in the pages of the journal, and headed to my rental car.
Bruce wouldn’t be working on a Sunday, not with a rookie on the force, so
instead of heading to the police station I drove to his modest ranch house on
the outskirts of town.

When I pulled into his
driveway, Bruce sat on his front porch in basketball shorts and a white tank
top. I shook my head to try and rid my mind of his bony legs poking from the
bottom of the shorts. At least he wasn’t in uniform. It might be easier to hand
the things over to him if he looked like a regular citizen. I exited the car,
tucked the journal under my arm, and marched toward him.

“It must not be good news
if you’re coming to my house.” Bruce met me at the steps to his porch.

I handed him the journal.
“Here is Mrs. Grimes’s journal and the treasure map. I hope it helps you find
the person who killed her.”

His eyebrows lowered.
“How did you get this?”

“Mom found it when we
went to fetch the cat. His name is Sir Galahad.” I straightened my shoulders
and put my hands behind my back. Maybe if he didn’t see them, he wouldn’t be
tempted to cuff me.

He sighed. “You read it?”

“Most of it.”

“And you feel it contains
something of importance?”

Well, duh. “It gives a
motive. Mrs. Grimes received the treasure map along with a shipment of antique
books. Whether or not the map is real, someone most likely thinks it is.”

“Who do you suspect?”
Bruce leaned against the railing.

Was he actually asking
for my opinion? “I have too many to mention at this time, but rest assured, I
have spies digging for information.”

“I’m sure you do. You
probably also kept a copy of the map, correct?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Does this mean you’ll
stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

Right. Dream on. “No, it
means I’ll share whatever information I find. Have a good day.” I flashed him a
grin and almost skipped to my car. He hadn’t arrested me. I drove on clouds all
the way home.

When I went in the house,
everyone was in the living room watching the Hogs play football. I perched on
the arm of the chair Duane sat in and kissed the top of his head.

He grabbed my hand.
“Where were you?”

“Turning evidence over to
Bruce.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Duane
chuckled. “This has got to be a first.”

I punched his shoulder.
“I always turn things over when I’m finished with them.”

“Now we can’t find the
treasure.” Mom handed me a diet soda.

“Oh, I kept a copy of the
map.”

“Treasure? What
treasure?” Leroy perked up. “Let’s see that map.”

I rushed to the office
and grabbed the photocopy, but not before printing off two more copies and
slipping them into a file marked bills. “This belonged to Mrs. Grimes. Does it
mean anything to you?” I held out the paper as I dashed back into the room.

Leroy studied the map.
“This shows the location of all the places Jesse James and his brother stashed
their loot. Supposedly, there are four locations in Arkansas. One in Hot
Springs, one around Paragould, one in Springdale, and one around Mena. More
fools than you’d see at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade has looked for these
treasures.”

“So it isn’t real?” I
plopped on the sofa.

“The map is real all
right.” He handed it back to me. “I just doubt whether there’s anything there.
I’m sure Jesse James’s cohorts retrieved this stuff a long time ago. Everyone
and their Grandma have gone looking for these treasures.”

“But what if?” Lindsey
pulled her gaze away from the television. “It could be there or at least one of
the places. We could be rich.”

“Someone killed for this
map,” Mom reminded her. “You’ll have to stay home when we search.”

“That’s so unfair!”
Lindsey pouted. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“No one is going anywhere,”
Leroy said. “It’s a wild goose chase.”

What if it wasn’t? What
if the killer somehow knew the treasure was still there and only needed the map
in order to retrieve it. In desperation, they could have threatened Mrs. Grimes
and when she didn’t cave, they killed her. Some people would do anything for
money.

Leroy ripped the map into
shreds. “Now, none of you crazy females will go looking for something that will
get you killed.”

Mom and Lindsey’s mouths
dropped open. I clamped my mouth closed and did my best to look furious. Good
thing I made extra copies. Sometimes, I surprised myself with my intelligence.

I met Mom’s gaze. From
the determined look in her eyes, we’d be heading to the spots on the map at the
first opportunity. From the look on Duane’s face, he realized the same thing,
and with all four places on the map scattered from one corner of Arkansas to
the other, we’d have to find a way to be gone for a few days. Something I
couldn’t do. Not with organizing the book fair. “There’s no way I have time to
check this out.”

“I’ll take you to one on
Saturday.” Duane pulled me from the sofa and into his arms. “If I don’t, you’ll
drive yourself crazy thinking about it.”

“We can make it a family
trip.” Mom jumped to her feet. “This calls for tea.” She raced to the kitchen,
leaving the rest of us laughing.

I wrapped my arms around
Duane’s neck. “Saturday sounds wonderful.” I’d have to work overtime on the
fair during the week, but it would be worth it if we found something.

“Saturday is our busiest
day of the week,” Mom said. “But I guess it wouldn’t be good to take off church
on Sunday to go treasure hunting. I’ll put a sign up tomorrow so we give our
customers plenty of notice.”

“I’ll post something on
the website, too,” Lindsey said. “Regardless of what y’all say, I’m going with
you. This is the coolest thing in a long time. We can use grandpa’s old metal
detector.”

I’d forgotten about that
old thing. Mom had kept all Dad’s things in the guest house, and I’d gone
through it all before moving in there until Mom married Leroy and we changed
places. I’d put all the
keepable
things in the back
closet. “That’s a good idea. Oh, and the wedding colors are ivory and vintage
rose.”

“Pink?” Duane frowned.
“You want me to wear pink?”

I pulled back. “It isn’t
pink. It’s rose.”

“Same thing. Can I wear
all black?”

I tweaked his nose. “You
can wear anything you want.” I meant it. He’d be gorgeous in jeans and a
tee-shirt. I lowered my voice. “Want to elope?”

“And risk your mother’s
wrath? I don’t think so.” He gave me a quick kiss and sat back down to watch
the game. I counted myself lucky I was able to drag him away for even a couple
of minutes.

I moved to the kitchen
and spread out my notes on the book fair. Things were falling into place.
Cheryl had emailed me with the list of attractions: face painting, darts, a
bounce house, a fish bowl toss, and the final extravaganza
was
the haunted hall leading to the library. Duane and Leroy would build it, also
acting as macabre characters. Lindsey said all her friends were looking forward
to it and she hoped it wouldn’t be lame. I promised to do my best.

Now the task to make it
exciting loomed in front of me. Maybe a horde of zombies that wandered the hall
and a chainsaw welding maniac would keep things lively. I’d also need monsters
that popped up from hidden places. Maybe an acted out scene or two of some
grisly medical procedure that participants would watch. I jotted down my ideas.

Why didn’t today’s teens
enjoy the simple things like three-legged races and ice cream socials? We still
had the milder forms of entertainment at church every year and they seemed to
enjoy themselves, but Halloween was an entirely different matter. Today’s youth
wanted to be scared
spitless
. Maybe a scene of hell
and brimstone with a laughing Satan would do the trick. That was certainly
enough to scare me.

Having organized my
notes, I turned to my list of suspects. Mr. Dean was the only name on the page.
I added the members of the book club, having a strong feeling that Mrs. Grimes
had blabbed to them about the map. I tapped the ink pen against my front teeth,
and then added the small amount of PTSO members. If the librarian was as
prolific with her verbal words as she was with the written ones, she’d most
likely told anyone close enough to listen that she might soon be in possession
of a treasure.

I prayed this mystery
wouldn’t see another death. The body count on the last two had been several
with me almost being one of them. So far, God had kept me and my family safe
from my nosiness. How long would that protection last when I actively put
myself in harm’s way?

The doorbell rang. “I’ll
get it.” I headed to the foyer and opened the front door.

A serious faced Bruce
stood on the front porch. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” I stepped outside
and pulled the door closed. “Am I in trouble?”

“I got this taped to my
front door. I hope you’ll heed the warning.” He handed me a slip of yellow
computer paper.

“Tell Marsha Steele to
stay out of it.”