Wait Until Dark (22 page)

With deep pleasure she inhaled the aroma of mellowed oak floors polished to a high shine, musty old books, new fresh-leafed books, and of ink and paper. The silence and the scents always gave her an odd assurance, and a feeling of satisfaction about what she was doing.

Addie often worried whether she'd made the right decision three years ago. A year after the death of her father, she completed her master's in creative writing and came home to be with her mother. She'd reasoned that she could write novels as well, or better, in Blue Springs than she could anywhere, her mother needed her, and the town was crying for a competent full-time librarian. It had all seemed to fit together at the time, had seemed so right.

However, no matter how much she worried or wondered about her decision to return to the tiny town, being in the library always set her straight.

When she worked with books, reading, cataloging, researching, organizing events for children, she forgot about everything else. She forgot her resentment of the assumption that she and high school sweetheart, Buck Harvey, were a done deal, that they were as good as married, and that he owned her. She forgot that her novel wasn't progressing well, and that she couldn't conjure up the missing ingredient. She forgot that she still held misty, girlish dreams and notions of a deep and passionate romance - dreams and notions that wouldn't let her go.

Whistling Willie Nelson's "Crazy," she shook her head impatiently, flipped the switch that lit the dusty crystal chandeliers high overhead, and headed for the receiving desk.

As she passed the door to the cellar, she heard a long, plaintive meow. Coffee sounded unhappy. She stopped and stared at the cellar door. Coffee couldn't be in there. When she left last night Coffee had been roaming free. The cat couldn't have let himself into the cellar.

He meowed again, and she opened the door. Coffee leaped out, landing two feet past her, then sat and looked at her disdainfully, as if it was her fault he'd been closed up.

"Sorry, Coffee cat. I sure don't know how you got in there."

Dank smells from the cellar swam up the stairs and under her nose, and she slammed the door hastily. In August, a particularly rank odor, sickening to the stomach, had sifted up from the dark cellar. Donny Jim, the handyman, had searched the place, and found nothing, but whiffs of the rotten odor still remained. She hated the cellar.

"Okay, let's go, cat. Time for work."

She continued to her desk, and Coffee followed, purring at her heels. Evidently, he'd forgiven her.

An unfamiliar legal-size pad of blue paper lay in the center of her desk. A black ballpoint pen lay on top of the pad.

Interesting,
she thought,
strange. They don't belong to me. They weren't there when I left last night.

The door was unlocked, remember, Addie?
But who on earth would just walk into the library and leave paper and pen? Blue Springs held a few eccentric residents, but none of them had ever done anything like this before. Donny Jim Slater, the handyman who came twice a week to clean and repair, wasn't due until later today, and Donny Jim was a deaf mute, who could barely read. He surely wouldn't be carrying around a pad of paper.

A quick look around revealed no damage had been done, so Addie relaxed. This was a small town and the library belonged to the people. One of her regulars must have returned a book after hours, then sat down to make themselves at home. That would also explain Coffee being accidentally locked up in the cellar.

Sure,
she thought,
nothing to worry about.
She put on a pot of coffee and opened the inside shutters, grateful for the sunlight that brightened gloomy corners, then turned on the CD player. Bach's
Keyboard Concerto
drifted down the aisles, and wafted randomly through hidden nooks and pinched crannies of the rambling old house.

While Addie sorted books she tried to recapture the reassuring feelings she'd experienced when she first entered, but they were gone. Worry scratched at her like Coffee's paws.

2

JANIE WAS SO SCARED SHE
could hardly breathe. She ran as fast as she could, but the wailing, groaning ghost from the graveyard who collected little girls' pigtails, hovered close behind her." Addie told the ghost story with drama; using wavery tones and shuddering sighs. "She tripped over a rock and fell, A bony hand reached out and grabbed her hair."

"Oh, no," screamed a girl, and the boys laughed.

The younger children had nightmares if she told them horror stories, so she reserved the scariest tales for the older children. The fifth grade class from Blue Springs Elementary sat on the floor in front of her, wide-eyed and unusually well behaved today.

From the doorway of the children's reading room came a hideous screech. The children screamed and turned to see the principal of their school with his shoulders hunched in an awkward stance, his arms and hands all crablike, and his face scrunched up like a monster.

They all laughed and pointed their fingers. "Mr. Harvey. We're not afraid of you," said one little girl.

"Heck, no, Mr. Harvey," said Brad Simples. "We know you too good."

"Well, shucks. I thought maybe I'd help Miss Rivers scare you to death. Guess I'll have to try harder next time."

"Yeah," said Brad. "Takes more than a fake scream and an ugly face to scare us."

Buck Harvey grinned, straightened his blue striped tie, and patted his boxy, immaculate camel sports coat into place. He tried to keep up-to-date with the latest in male fashion trends, and liked to look sharp.

Addie gave him a small wave. "Hello, Mr. Harvey. How nice of you to visit."

"We needed cleaning supplies and I had to make a trip to the hardware store, so I thought I'd drop by and see how my favorite class is doing."

Addie tried to subdue the irritation that simmered in her, but failed.

Buck had developed the habit of dropping into the library at odd hours lately, and if one of his classes was visiting he always found a reason to be there. Cleaning supplies from the hardware store was just one of many excuses he'd used lately. Addie resented the interruptions, but the children seemed to love them. They loved Mr. Harvey, and they knew he loved them.

He was always cheerful and pleasant, so Addie found it difficult to protest or complain. Addie knew Buck genuinely loved her, and she'd accepted the fact that someday they would marry and spend the rest of their lives in Blue Springs, but she ached to loosen the collar she felt he'd already fastened around her neck.

"Your visits always make us happy, Mr. Harvey," she said, straining to smile. "But you've interrupted a good story. Do you mind if we get back to it? Miss Lewis will be here to walk this class back to school in five minutes, and the nursery children will be here at noon."

"Uh, oh. Sorry, kids, but I think Miss Rivers wants to finish your ghost tale." He smiled at them, then winked at her, and gave her a meaningful look. "Everything okay here, Miss Rivers?"

"Fine and dandy, Mr. Harvey, as it always is," she replied. She glared at him, then smiled sweetly. "Safe as little bugs in a rug, or peas in a pod, or cats in a barn, or mice in an attic, or whatever. We are
super
okay."

"Right. Good. Great." The grin on his kind face grew bigger. He knew he'd irritated her, and it amused him. Nothing ever bothered Buck. Addie could yell and scream and shake her fists at him, and he would just smile. "See you later, kids."

Buck waved and turned to leave, disappearing into the greater library area. Addie heard him speak to someone. She thought he offered assistance to whoever had come in, and she wished that he wouldn't assume responsibility where he had none. Most of the library regulars were familiar with the layout and Addie's rules, and if she was occupied with children, or otherwise not available, they helped themselves.

"Hey, Miss Rivers, you goin' to finish the story?"

"Absolutely." She heard Buck in conversation with someone, but turned her attention back to the children.

"Addie is having story hour in the back room there "

"Yes, I know," said Will.

He'd been amused at the sign on the desk. ADDIE'S READING A STORY. HELP YOURSELF.

"You're a stranger. May I help you? I'm Buck Harvey, principal of the elementary school."

"I'm Will Court," he said, as they shook hands. "I'm traveling through the region gathering folk tales and legends. A friend told me Blue Springs supposedly has one of the best collections in the country. If it's as good as I've been told, I'm surprised you don't have a library full of scholars."

"It is a superb compilation, but we're a small town, and the library's skills are limited. The computer system is so antiquated we're not even on the Internet. So you can see why little is known about the collection." Buck Harvey smiled genially. "I think we'd just as soon keep things the way they are anyway. We'd rather welcome the few drop-ins like you, than try to handle a crowd."

"Who gathered the stories?"

"My fiancée, Addie Rivers, the librarian. Appalachia is the setting for a novel she's writing. In her research, she kept running into old tales and legends she'd never heard before. She kept them and added them to the files that were already here."

So, Addie with the smoky eyes and coppery hair was engaged to be married. Will's sharp disappointment surprised him. He should have known she'd be taken. He'd come to this small town to find new material for his books and lecture series, but found Blue Springs' real hidden treasure was its librarian. Obviously intelligent, with long legs, a sensual mouth, and an expressive face, Addie Rivers would be difficult to ignore.

Will took a second appraisal of the congenial man to whom he was talking. Buck Henry stood as tall as he, but they were of different build. If Will had to describe him briefly, he would say Buck looked like an impeccably dressed wooden ruler, "a thin rectangle." Buck's slender handsome face sat on a long neck and met slim squared shoulders, and so it went all the way down to his trim cordovan wing tipped shoes. He was painfully neat, and ran a hand across the top of his severe "army-issue"-type brush-cut hair from time to time.

"How interesting," said Will. "It's nice to know Miss Rivers is available if I have questions. Could you direct me to the section I should be in?"

"Sure. Go past fiction and turn right. Most of it is on the back wall in the history area." He pointed to the rear of the library. "Addie discovered some handwritten stories, which were years old, and those are under lock and key. You'll have to ask her about those."

"Thanks for your help." Will shook hands with the man again, and turned away.

But Buck Harvey didn't move. "How long you going to be here?" he asked.

Will thought it was none of the man's business, but he stopped and turned around to say, "I'm not quite sure. Could take me two days, could take me a month."

"I see. I don't think there is enough material for a month's work."

"Well, I won't know until I get into it, and I'll probably do some traveling and story gathering on the back trails myself."

"You'd better let one of us know if you plan to do that. Some of the elder mountaineers are wary of strangers, and aren't too friendly."

Will's first opinion of this seemingly congenial man began to change. At first a friendly helpful person, Buck Harvey now seemed nosy, controlling, and perhaps even hostile.

"I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Of course," said Buck. A brief, big smile blazed across his face, then disappeared quickly. His duty to be friendly taken care of, Buck lifted a hand in farewell and headed for the door. "Good luck."

"Right," said Will, and walked toward the aisle Buck had indicated. Eager to get to work, he started down the aisle, but the sound of Buck's fading footsteps stopped, and Will looked over his shoulder to see what had halted the man.

Buck raised his hand in farewell again. "Sorry, just wanted to be sure you were headed in the right direction."

Will nodded and walked on.

When he reached the area he'd been looking for, he heard the faint sound of closing doors behind him and knew with an odd relief that Buck Harvey had finally left the library.

He swiftly surveyed the three shelves holding the work he was interested in, realizing with excitement that he'd found a treasure trove. In front of him was a veritable feast of boxes, books, pamphlets, and note pads containing tales he could use in his lecture series, and material that he needed to complete his new book.

Sorting through the books, Will chose three to start with, and gave the remainder of the material a wistful look. He couldn't wait to delve into it all. He took the books to a nearby table, extracted pads and pen from his backpack, and sat down to work. A coffee-colored cat arrived to inspect his moccasins, sniff up and down his legs, and finally, purring intimately at Will's friendly strokes, to curl under the table next to his feet as if they belonged together.

Set to begin work, he riffled through one of the books, but had an odd sensation that he wasn't alone, that someone watched him. He looked up to find a big, brawny, middle-aged man dressed in denim overalls and red flannel shirt observing him. He clutched a broom and dustpan. Will got the impression that the man was inspecting him, considering whether Will passed muster.

"Hi," said Will. "You must be the janitor. I'm Will Court."

The man said nothing, just continued to study him. Then he disappeared as quietly as he'd appeared. Will shrugged, and wondered how a huge, beefy guy wearing farm brogans could walk so silently. He shrugged again and focused on his books.

Alone with his beloved work in the quiet library, Will soon was deep into the first of the volumes he'd picked,
Forgotten Legends of the Appalachians.
Laughter, and the high pitched voices of children hurrying through the area near the receiving desk and out the doors barely registered. He worked steadily, completely enamored with stories he'd never heard before.

Thirst finally interfered with his concentration. It was time for a break, and he raised his head to look for a water fountain. He left his table to wander up and down several aisles, but found nothing, and finally entered the cleared space of the main area.

Addie Rivers worked at the desk, her head bowed over books and papers. His soft-soled moccasins concealed his approach. She didn't know that he watched her, and though it wasn't fair, he took advantage of the opportunity and drank his fill of the picture she made.

Autumn sun shone through the large window behind her, catching the coppery highlights in her hair that he'd noticed and appreciated earlier that morning. Her hair spilled softly over her cheek, hiding her smoky eyes, which disappointed him. Her eyes were what he remembered most from their encounter in the kitchen last night, her eyes and the way her graceful hands had moved so efficiently as she prepared the hot chocolate.

She raked her hand through her hair in irritation, and shook her head. "Damn," she muttered.

Ah, ha,
thought Will.
The beautiful bookish lady has a bit of temper.
The flickering flames that teased and licked at his groin flared higher.
Not good, Will, not good. You're here to work, not flirt with the librarian. But this is a vacation, too, a retreat,
he reasoned with himself.
Still not sufficient reason to be playing around with an engaged woman, Will.

She tapped her pencil on the desk and the tat-a-tat-tat echoed loudly in the vast hushed room. It was chilly in the old house. She wore a cream cashmere turtleneck sweater. His heart hammered as he watched her stroke her arm up and down, up and down, warming herself, caressing the soft cashmere sensually, soothing her arm, and perhaps soothing herself.

The phone on her desk rang, abruptly breaking the spell he'd cast around the two of them. He didn't move as she picked up the receiver and lifted her gaze to notice him.

She started and her eyes widened. "Hello, uh - Blue Springs Library."

He smiled, and her eyes grew wider.

"Oh, hi, Mavis." She listened to her caller while Will continued feasting his eyes on her face, the flawless cheeks, tinged with a faint pink now, the feathery eyebrows lifted in surprise at the sight of him, the sweep of her dark eyelashes as she closed her eyes for a second in response to a comment on the other end of the line.

"No, Mavis, I'm positive Bradley didn't take one of your pumpkins," went the conversation. "We're carving ours on Friday. Certainly. I would be delighted if you'd like to share some of your pumpkins with the children. Why don't you come and help us carve? Okay. See you then." She replaced the receiver.

Shocked at Will Court's sudden appearance, Addie realized that she had been staring at him for an embarrassing length of time.

Still as a cat about to pounce, he didn't move, didn't alter his casual stance. Propped against the front section of Fiction A - M; his arms crossed, one foot cocked over the other, he stared right back at her. The acute blue of his eyes sped across the space between them, setting every nerve ending she possessed tingling with anxiety.