Jeopardy in January

by Camilla Chafer

  Before I even got the opportunity to make the call, the middle school children I'd been expecting trooped in, all chatter and giggles. I plastered a broad smile on my face and swiftly moved into true librarian mode, inviting them to take seats on the carpet in the children's area. I was well prepared to begin the talk they expected. At the end, I handed out tasks to them. They had to find certain books relating to their class topic on the world. As they hurried away in pairs to locate the appropriate books, their teacher came to join me.

  "I can't believe this won't be here much longer," she said. "I love coming here and so do the children."

  "We're still collecting more signatures," I told her.

  "I signed already. Do you think there will be enough?"

  "I only need a hundred more to reach the target. That will only be enough to make the council listen; it won't necessarily sway them. I'm not sure what else I can do."

  "What if the children all wrote letters saying how important the library is to them?"

  "You would do that?" I beamed at her thoughtful suggestion.

  "Absolutely!"

  By the time they trooped out, I was feeling more upbeat. Petition signatures were one thing, but reading how important the library was to children took it to another level of emotion that I never considered. Leaving a few browsers downstairs, I went up to the second floor, moving over to one of the displays I created about the town. Many of those residents wouldn't still be alive now; but I wondered if I had enough time to track down their descendants. If I could do that, perhaps they would write letters to the council too?

  Aubrey, who usually worked Saturdays but kindly volunteered to cover some of Bree's hours, came in at noon. I gave her a quick update on the plan for the day and told her I was taking my lunch in the office. I ate my sandwiches at my desk, like I often did, and mulled over the previous day’s events again. When I realized I was doing little more than giving myself a headache, I pushed the thoughts to one side and reached for my phone.

  Tom picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello, stranger," he said. "I was just thinking about you. You must have read my mind."

  "It's my secret super power," I teased, happy to hear his voice.

  "Do you have any other secret powers?"

  "Yes. Persuasion."

  "Okay, I'll bite. Persuade me of something."

  "Let's meet for a drink later," I said, emboldened.

  "Yes," he said quickly. "Wow! Would you look at that? Your powers really do work! When should I pick you up?"

  "Seven," I told him.

  "It's a date."

  ~

  I brushed on a layer of lipstick and pouted in the mirror. I didn't wear a lot of makeup usually but I felt like making a special effort for our date and was rather pleased with the results. The bruise was fully covered with a blend of concealer and foundation, my cheeks were delicately blushed, my lashes were thick and long, and the lipstick was just the right shade of pink: not Barbie, not vampy, but a delicate, rosy hue.

  Closing the lid, I slipped the lipstick into my purse just as a knock sounded at my door. I hurried downstairs and opened it, glad I'd already pulled on my knee-length boots.

  "You look so beautiful," said Tom, leaning in to kiss me, first one cheek and then the other. "I hope I'm not late. I think I took a wrong turn and ended up in a cul-de-sac a couple of streets away."

  "I know the one. It has a similar name to this road and people often go the wrong way."

  "Fortunately, I know someone who knows their way to the bar so I think we'll make it there without any problems," he said. "Ready to go?"

  I reached for my jacket, wrapping it around me and grabbed my purse. "Ready!"

  Tom kept up a steady chatter as we drove, and I found myself enjoying him. I liked to just listen to him talk. He told me about his job in advertising sales, why he was in Calendar, and how it was changing his opinion of small towns. He even said he thought he could settle down somewhere like this, especially since he could run his business from home. It heartened me to hear that he liked my town so much that he was considering sticking around. Otherwise, a third date might have been right out of the question! It is pretty hard to date someone long distance.

  We took up seats at the bar and ordered beers, shrugging off our jackets and looking around at the occupied pool tables. I waved to my friend, Meredith, who sat at a table with a man I didn't recognize. Then I saw my friend, Rachel, and her sister in a corner booth, but they were engrossed in conversation. The music was just right and we could speak over it without shouting. I figured there would be dancing later. On our second bottles of beer, Tom insisted on ordering a few snacks and the barman returned with them, spreading the little dishes between us.

  "I enjoyed our dinner," Tom said as he looked over toward the pool table, "but I like this too. I'm not sure I remember the last time I played a game of pool. Do you play?"

  "I do, but I'm not great," I admitted.

  "Hmm, I'm not sure I buy that." He winked at me. "Is this one of those times where you say you're not great and then you slay me on our first game?"

  I laughed, shaking my head and letting my hair tumble around my shoulders. Tom reached over and brushed a lock back and our eyes met. I began to lean in for the inevitable kiss, blinking in surprise when Tom jumped to the floor. "Luck is on our side tonight!" he exclaimed, inclining his head to the pool table. "Let's play."

  "You're on," I agreed, shaking myself. Apparently, Tom never had a clue I thought he was about to kiss me.

  Tom set up the balls and handed me a pool cue. "Do you want to break?" he asked.

  "No, you go ahead."

  "Hmmm, I have a feeling you're just being nice because you intend to annihilate me," he said, bending to position his cue. After a moment, he straightened up again. "Why don't we make this more interesting?" he suggested. "You win, you buy the next round of drinks. I win, I take you to dinner."

  "That doesn't seem fair," I started to protest. "The bet should be equal."

  "Fine. You win, you can take me to dinner. Not at a drive-through, either," he warned, laughing. He pushed up his sleeves and stretched out his arm. I glanced at the balls, waiting for the inevitable crack that told me they'd been struck. It was followed by him lining the cue up until it rested between his thumb and forefinger. His wristwatch glinted under the bar's overhead lights and I frowned. A dark mark spread from under the watch, coiling around his wrist. No, not a mark. A tattoo.

  The ink wasn't a coil, but a tail that curved around to the underside of his wrist. Pincers spread out on either side of the clock-face and curved inward. Even without seeing the rest of the scorpion tattoo, I knew what the pincers held. A diamond.

  I stepped closer, my heart thumping as I recalled where I'd seen a similar tattoo before.

  It was the tattoo on the man Bree ripped out of her photo.

  Cold fear washed through me and I stumbled, gripping the side of the table just as the cueball hit, causing the others to fly apart, ricocheting against each other. In an instant, Tom was at my side. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

  "I caught my heel," I lied quickly. Blood drained from my face. "I thought I was going to fall."

  Tom hooked an arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head. The gesture should have been reassuring. Instead, I felt sick. "I've got you," he said.

  "Will you excuse me? I need to go to the restroom," I told him.

  "Sure. I promise not to move any of the balls until you're back." He smiled his brilliant, white smile but this time, I couldn't see it reflected in his face. The ready smile, I realized, had never reached his eyes.

  "Great!" I grinned, walking as quickly as I could to the restrooms near the back of the bar. I hurried inside, pushing the door shut and resting my back against it as I breathed hard, feeling hopelessly trapped with no escape.

  Not only was I on a date with Bree's pyscho ex, but he was also my ride and I had no other way home! I couldn't call a taxi because he
would see me leave and I couldn't insist he drive me home without possibly alerting him something was wrong. I could fake my way through the date but I wasn't sure how long I could keep it up. I wasn't a practiced liar or a criminal. Tom was. Tom read people for a living.

  "That bad, huh?" said a voice.

  I jumped. I hadn't realized I wasn't alone. "Sorry?" I said, noticing the blonde woman in the mirrors, adjusting the collar of a pale pink blouse. I could only smile in relief. "Meredith?" I sighed. "I am so glad to see you!"

  "Me too. I am on the worst date. The first date I've had in… I don't know how long. I never should have come," she confided as she pulled a face. "I never realized how offensive he was because I never spoke to him any length of time before. I think he hates women."

  "So... not a keeper?" I asked, my heart rate slowing as my panic lessened.

  She wavered her head from side to side. "I'm thinking no. In fact, he is the prime example of why I don’t date. What's wrong with your date?"

  "I think he might be psycho."

  Meredith’s eyes widened. "Damn!"

  "I need to get out of here and I don't want to get into a car with him. He picked me up and drove us here," I told her in a rush.

  "I'm parked outside but I need a low key exit," said Meredith. "We need a ruse. How about you going back to the pool table and I’ll call you from the restroom. You can pretend your mom has been in an accident and you need to leave at once. I'll offer to run you over there. In fact, I'll insist on it."

  "You would do that?"

  "In the name of sisterhood and getting out of this date? Yes! A million times."

  "Okay," I agreed. "What if he realizes I'm lying?"

  "You think he'd get nasty?"

  "I don't know, maybe."

  "Better make it believable then," said Meredith. "Ready?"

  I nodded quickly, knowing if I thought about it any longer, I would probably risk running out the doors and hoping Tom didn't catch me. For the first time that day, I wished Jason were there to rescue me again. "Give me ten seconds," I said. "I left my purse on the pool table."

  Meredith gave me a nod and readied her phone. I took a deep breath, smoothed my skirt, and walked out of the restroom, forcing myself to smile as soon as I saw Tom. When I got back to the pool table, my phone began to vibrate in my purse. I reached for it. "Excuse me a moment," I said, shielding the screen from his view. "Hello?"

  "Say hi mom," said Meredith. I scanned the bar for her but couldn’t see her.

  "Hi, Mom. I'm out on a date right now. Is everything okay?"

  "Blah blah hospital," said Meredith.

  I clasped a hand to my mouth, frowning hard. "Oh, my gosh! What happened?"

  "Blah blah more stuff about hospitals."

  "That sounds terrible. Are you hurt? Of course I'll come right away. No, it's no trouble, really," I said. "I'll get there as soon as I can."

  "Great. We're out of here," said Meredith and she hung up.

  "Is something wrong?" asked Tom.

  "It's my mom. There's been a..." I stopped, hearing my name being called. I turned around, seeing Meredith hurrying towards me, waving.

  "I just got a call from my dad," she said, reaching for my hands, her face furrowed with panic. "He said your mom has been in some kind of accident with my mom. I told him I knew where you were and we'd leave right away."

  "I just heard," I said, hoping I looked as stunned as I felt.

  "We have to go," she said, hooking her arm through mine.

  "I'll drive you," said Tom, tossing his pool cue onto the table.

  "No need to," said Meredith. "My car is right outside and I can drive us both. We have to hurry." She began to propel us toward the door before Tom could protest while I tucked my purse under my arm, and we traipsed through the parking lot. We ran to her car and threw ourselves inside, Meredith laughing.

  "You are quite the actress," I told her, impressed.

  "Thank you. You know what?" she asked.

  I shook my head. "What?"

  "I was so busy helping you get out of your date, I forgot to tell mine I was leaving. He probably still thinks I'm in the restroom! What the hell! Let's get out of here." We pulled out of the lot and Meredith accelerated. "What makes you think he's psycho?" she asked. "Was he the date you bought that awesome dress for?"

  "Yes, and I still love it, but I realized he wasn't who he said he was," I replied.

  She shot a worried look at me. "He was lying? What about?"

  "I'm not sure, but I think probably everything."

  "Wow. Married? Kids?"

  "No idea. I hope not."

  "Well, whatever he is, you're out of there now. Do you want to go somewhere else and talk about it?"

  "If you don't mind, I think I'd like to go home." I didn't add, and call Detective Logan.

  "No problem, but we should go out for lunch sometime. Not with creepy guys."

  Meredith had always been friendly but had never suggested a social occasion before. Despite my worries, I was pleased at her overture. "I'd like that."

  "I promise not to fake an accident to leave either," she said and we both laughed.

  I didn't feel a lot better by the time Meredith dropped my off at my house. I wasn't even sure I should have gone home at all. Tom knew where I lived and I didn't want him to drive by and see I was home rather than at my mom's, per my fake story, nor did I want him knocking on the door, or worse!

  My mind made up, I hurried into my bedroom and grabbed a couple of changes of clothes, throwing them into an overnight bag and adding my toiletries. As I locked up my house, I sent my mother a text message saying I was on my way and I needed to stay the night.

  Next, I called Detective Logan. The phone rang and rang before his answer service clicked on. "I saw him," I said, "I mean, it's Sara Cutler. I think I know who Bree's ex-boyfriend is, the one that she betrayed. He's in town. I think he's been trying to get information from me to find out where... oh..." I stopped and clapped a hand over my mouth. How could I have been so blind? I knew where the jewels were! I'd known all along. They had been right in front of me the whole time and if I were right, they were only steps away from where Bree was killed. My mind raced. Tom must have threatened her for them and she didn't tell him where they were despite their close proximity. "I know where the jewels are," I said into the phone. "They're at the library. I'm going to get them, and then I'm coming to the station."

  I hung up and started the engine of my cold car before backing out of my driveway. I drove to the library, parking outside. It would take only minutes to hurry inside and get Bree's jewels, and I could make sure Detective Logan had them and returned them to their rightful owners.

  I pulled the keys from my pocket and climbed out, hurrying along the dark path toward the door. I fumbled with the old lock, but got the key in and twisted, pushing the door open just as something hard pressed against my back.

  "About time," said a deep voice.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ice-cold dread filled me. Frozen to the spot, I was unable to move, even though the door stood ajar. Thoughts filled my head. A few years ago, I enrolled in a self-defense course. If I could power myself backwards, I could inflict some serious injury on my opponent, and with him disadvantaged, I could run for help. Immediately, I knew that wouldn't work. He would shoot me the moment I pushed backward and there was no way I could get the gun moved away from the small of my back. If I could manage to get out of this, I decided I would have to complain to the self-defense instructor for not covering such an issue.

  If I stepped forwards fast enough, I could grab the heavy door and slam it in his face. Only... there was that same little problem of him shooting me first. Plus, if he pushed the door back, it seemed more likely that he would send me sprawling as he closed the door behind him, trapping us inside. There was no way I wanted to be injured and stuck inside the empty library with him.

  Another thought struck me: he could only be here because, like me, he t
hought the jewels were hidden in the library.

  "Inside," said Tom, nudging me again with the gun.

  "Detective Logan knows where I am," I replied, not moving as I stalled for time. All I needed was enough time for Detective Logan to get my message.

  "Sure he does," said Tom, his voice suddenly scathing. He pushed harder and I stumbled forwards, all hope ebbing out of me. Behind us, the door shut with a bang. I reached for the lights like I normally would but Tom batted my hand away. "No lights," he hissed. "Lights on at this time would alert people, wouldn't it? Keep your hands up and don't try anything else stupid."

  "I won't," I whispered, my heart racing.

  "Go get them."

  "Get what?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what he meant.

  "What did I say about not doing anything stupid? You know exactly what I'm talking about."

  I thought about Meredith's words regarding acting and I knew I had to keep up the pretense. Tom couldn't possibly be sure that I already figured out where Bree had stashed the jewels — in plain sight — and he couldn't be sure they were here either. Otherwise, he would have tried to retrieve them before. With a heavy sigh, I realized he had been here before, probably several times. Tom must have tried to convince Bree to reveal the jewels’ whereabouts and she hadn't told him. Yet he'd also been here the night of the party, free to wander wherever he pleased, and it must have been him who tried to break in through the now boarded-up window. What he really needed was me. With a crushing realization, I knew that his attention was all an act. He played me the whole time. I had to play him right back. I had to keep up my charade and convince him that I didn't know what he was talking about until Detective Logan arrived to save me.

  I just hoped he wouldn't be too late.

  "The jewels," Tom continued. "Tell me where the jewels are, Sara, or I'll be forced to use this."

  "I don't believe you," I said, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. Of course Tom would use it! He already shot Bree dead and he knew her. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot me.

  "Turn around."

  I turned around slowly, my hands still in the air, not quite above my head in surrender, but high enough that it felt like I was pushing the air between us.