“So you saw them, what, waiting in line and having an argument?” I asked.
“No, that’s the funny thing. It looked like they were sharing a meal together and I wouldn’t have necessarily put those two together as friends, considering what you’ve told me about Roger and what I’ve seen of the good doctor,” said Luna.
I thought about this for a minute. “Maybe Roger was advising him on investments? Maybe Roger gave him bad advice, too, like he gave my college professor.”
Luna said, “Who knows? I’m sure the doctor probably has money to invest. I wish I could have heard more of what he was saying. All I know is it definitely seemed to be about money. At one point the hissing voice became louder and money was the one word I could make out.”
I pulled up the library calendar on the computer and took a quick look. Then I smiled. “I thought I remembered correctly. It just so happens that Doctor Kenneth Driscoll is part of the Whitby Library’s Health Awareness Fair tomorrow.”
“Excellent!” said Luna. “You’ve got the perfect opportunity to talk to him. All I know is those two guys were angry. Considering one of them is dead now, it makes sense to follow up on it. Maybe it’ll be a chance for the police to focus on somebody else.”
I peered more closely at the calendar. “The self-defense class is also tomorrow at five. Let me check signups. I hate to have the chief give the class and not really have anyone to show up.” I checked online and smiled. “Oh good. Looks like we have ten women. And I’m going to attend, myself.” It looked like my little social media posts with Fitz had generated the interest in the program that I’d hoped.
“I’ll do it, too,” said Luna. “Since I’m off at five tomorrow. And that will give you a chance to catch Burton up to speed on all your investigating.”
I gave her a wry look. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted.” I figured he might be more delighted that Luna was in attendance. Although, maybe I’d read that all wrong and he actually was fascinated by her for different reasons.
“Maybe he will. He’s probably feeling a lot of pressure to make an arrest. I’d guess he needs all the help he can find.”
I left for my lunch break not at all sure Burton would see things the same way.
After coming back from lunch, I spent time shelving books that had been returned to the drop box. I was putting away a slew of graphic novels when I heard a voice behind me calling my name.
I turned and smiled at Trista Terry. We’d been friends in college but hadn’t seen each other in a while since both of us were busy with our jobs.
“Good to see you, Trista,” I said.
She gave me a spontaneous hug. “Good to see you. Wow, it’s been ages. We really need to catch up soon. Maybe we can grab a coffee or a drink sometime.”
“That would be great,” I said politely. I did want to hear how Trista was doing, but it pained me to admit Nathan was right—I wasn’t exactly trying to make friends. I tried again and put a little more enthusiasm in my voice. “Just let me know what your schedule looks like. I’d love to hear what you’re up to.”
Trista made a face. “Oh, my life is all kinds of crazy right now. But I should be able to arrange something in the next couple of weeks. There is one thing that’s going right—I might have a new relationship.” She clamped her hands to her mouth in mock fear. “I better not say anything else or I might jinx it. By the way,” she added archly, “I have an idea for a date for you. I’d love to set you up with this guy. I think you have a lot in common.”
I made a face and said, “Please, no. I’ve had a few lately that haven’t worked out exactly the way I wanted.”
A flash of concern swept over Trista’s face before it was quickly concealed. The problem with old friends is they know a little too much about you. I’m sure it was on the tip of Trista’s tongue to ask me if I’ve dated anyone since Robert. Since college. But she was too polite to ask.
“Okay, then. I’ll just plan on calling you in the next couple of weeks. Or maybe I’ll see you when I’m back returning my book,” she said brightly.
“What did you get?” I asked.
“The Goldfinch. I can’t believe I haven’t read it yet—I’ve heard so many good things about it. I’d better run . . . I’ll see you soon, Ann.”
The rest of the afternoon flew by and I was surprised to see it was six and time for me to leave for the evening since I didn’t have to close up.
I drove home, my mind still thinking about things at work and the things I’d learned about people who were involved in some way with Roger.
I was tired as I got out of my car and headed up my front walk, but looking at the English garden on the way to my front door gave me pause. It was intended to be a riotous display of color and eclectic plants and shrubs. It wasn’t supposed to be quite as riotous as it was now. And I was very suspicious several of the things flowering in the garden right now were not planted there but were weeds trying to pass themselves off as flowers.
I changed clothes, grabbed my gardening gloves and a pair of pruners, and headed back out the front. This was hardly the most stimulating of work, so I went back inside to grab a pair of headphones. I pulled up an audiobook I’d borrowed from the library: Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch. The narration was very good and soon I was sucked into the story again. Maybe I was too sucked in. I pulled up a couple of things that I realized did not necessarily qualify as weeds. I decided to move on to deadheading some of the old blossoms. That was more of a thoughtless task I could do without really paying much attention.
Listening as intently as I was, I didn’t hear anyone come up behind me. I didn’t hear a greeting. That’s why I jumped about a mile and hollered when I felt a light touch on my shoulder.
It was the intriguing neighbor from down the street. He said something, but I didn’t hear it with my headphones on. I ripped them off, quickly, face flushed.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Grayson Phillips.”
He held out a hand, but I looked down at my dirty hands and winced. “Sorry, I’m absolutely filthy.” I had used garden gloves, but only for part of the time. The things were so unwieldy they made pulling hard sometimes. And I’m impatient with being clumsy.
He said quickly, “Of course you are! Sorry, that was silly of me. You’re gardening, after all.”
I somehow couldn’t seem to find my equilibrium around this man. The first time I’d seen him, I’d walked past him on a stroll and tripped up over a loose spot in the sidewalk, flailing wildly before somehow landing on my feet. He’d called out to me to make sure I was all right and I’d waved a thanks, not wanting to prolong my embarrassment. And now I struggled to find words.
“That’s right. It’s a nice change after my day job,” I finally said.
“Which, I gather, is an indoor job?” he asked with a smile.
I nodded. “At the library. It might involve papercuts, but no dirt.” I frowned, remembering an incident last year. “At least, not usually.” I paused. “I hear you have a pretty fabulous job.”
“Do I?” he asked, frowning.
“At least, I think so,” I said, aware I was blabbering, but unaware of how to stop it. “I absolutely love music. One of the nice things about being at the library is I know all of the things in our collection—including music. I like pretty much everything, don’t you? I mean, I suppose you’d have to, being a DJ.”
Grayson blinked at me. “I’m afraid I’m not a DJ, actually.”
“No?” I asked. I thought very bad things about the henna-haired Zelda Smith. It was almost as if she’d purposely sabotaged me. I gritted my teeth.
“I’m afraid not,” he said apologetically. He added hurriedly, “Although I do enjoy music, of all different genres. It’s rare there’s something I don’t like.”
I was smiling and nodding, but barely listening to a word he was saying.
He cleared his throat. “The reason I came by was about the homeowner association thing. Sor
ry, I just don’t have anyone’s phone number right now so it’s easier to run by. Ms. . . . Smith, I think it is? She said you’d thought I might be interested in serving on the homeowner association board. But I just don’t have the time right now. Maybe one day.”
I felt a sinking sensation inside. “I suppose I suggested it.” I sighed. “Honestly, I was just trying to save myself in the process. Sorry. I’ve thrown you under the bus. Zelda Smith has been determined to rope me in for ages and I’m just about run out of excuses. The only problem is my excuses are all true. I really just don’t have time to do it. I’m usually at the library both early and late and on weekends.” I skittered to a stop. The man hadn’t come over to hear my excuses.
But he only grinned at me. “Sounds like we’re in the same boat, then. I successfully avoided it this time, anyway.”
I chuckled. “Just stay on your guard. She doesn’t ever give up.” I paused. “Although, we might be safe for a little while. I recommended the open position to a friend of mine. Fingers crossed she ends up taking it.”
Grayson said, “I’ll let you get back to your gardening. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
I just smiled rather vacantly at him and then hurriedly busied myself with pulling up something I later discovered was most definitely not a weed.
The next day was a busy one. Some of our library programs did super well and others were more lightly attended. But the Health Awareness Fair was always a huge hit. That’s because there were free blood pressure and blood sugar checks, body mass index, and cholesterol screenings. The medical staff that attended also advised on a variety of different conditions, as well as promoted generally healthy habits.
The community room was completely filled as well as much of the library. And then we had our normal patrons, too, on top of it all.
Luna walked up to me at one point. “It’s crazy in here!”
“Fortunately, we don’t host the event too often,” I said with a chuckle.
“Seriously, I could use a drink,” she said with a sigh.
“Beer?” I guessed.
She snorted. “More like a rosemarycano.”
“I don’t even know what that is,” I said.
“You’re missing out. Campari and vermouth Americano with rosemary.” Luna saw my expression and laughed. “I’m full of surprises. I once had a wealthy boyfriend in New York. It was quite the education.” A mom walked up to ask her a question, and she hurried off.
Halfway through the event, I spotted Kenneth Driscoll, our local doctor. I could see why Luna would think he was cocky. He had a sort of smug look about him and he was certainly handsome. But also very good at what he did, and I’d never heard anyone complain about him.
At one point, he walked up to the research desk where I was sitting. “I brought my lunch with me—is there anywhere I can take a quick break to eat it before finishing up at the fair?”
I stood up. “As a matter of fact, it’s time for my own lunch break. If you’d like, you can join me in the librarian’s lounge.”
“Thanks,” he said and followed me as I scanned us into the breakroom. I scanned Fitz in there, too, since he was trotting along behind me.
“Okay if the cat joins us?” I asked.
Kenneth glanced down, just noticing the orange cat. “Sure, I guess.”
He sat down at the table and I warmed up the broccoli and cheese soup I’d brought for my lunch. I thought about ways to bring up Roger’s death and couldn’t think of a natural way of doing it. Maybe it would be best if I pretended I was the one who’d seen him arguing with Roger at the deli, since it would be weird to tell him someone I knew had mentioned it.
When I sat down to join him at the table, he was already halfway through a sandwich and was reading one of the magazines littering the breakroom tables and chairs.
I took a deep breath and plunged in. “This is going to sound a little abrupt, but I think I’ve seen you recently. It’s just a little awkward because you were having an argument with someone I knew.”
As I’d expected, Kenneth’s head jerked up, and he stared at me, a defensive look in his eyes. “What is this?”
“It’s just something I’m curious about. As a librarian, curiosity is sort of my superpower,” I said with a smile, trying to ratchet down the tension a little.
Kenneth still looked suspicious. “A superpower or a fatal flaw. Why do you care about an argument? Not that I’m saying there was one,” he quickly added.
“You were engaged in an argument at the deli with Roger Walton, right?” I took a sip of my soup and tried to look just mildly interested in his answer.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Yeah. That’s right. But I can promise you the only reason my temper got out of hand is because that guy let his temper get out of hand first.” He paused and looked at me. “So what are you—his girlfriend or something?”
I shook my head. “I was supposed to have a blind date with him Friday night. The thing is, though, when I showed up for the date, I found Roger dead in his backyard.”
Kenneth’s eyes opened wide.
“So maybe you can forgive my nosiness in this particular instance.” I gave the soup a stir since it had reheated unevenly in the microwave. The last bite had burned my tongue.
Kenneth was quiet for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. Then he said carefully, “As a physician in this town, you know I have a position to maintain.”
I shrugged. “I’d think you’d have considered that position before engaging in a public argument with someone.”
He sighed and then rubbed his eyes again. “You’re absolutely right. And I can’t blame you for wanting to ask questions. Of course, it must seem there could have been some sort of connection between me and Roger Walton. But I can promise you there wasn’t.”
“And you frequently have lunch with people you don’t know?” I asked, a tinge of asperity creeping into my voice. I tried to make my face more neutral. For some reason, Kenneth Driscoll and his superior attitude got under my skin.
“I’m having lunch with you now,” he said pointedly. Then he stopped himself. A moment later he continued in a calmer tone. “I’m not saying I didn’t know Roger. But I only knew him on a professional basis, as a patient of mine. I went out for a quick lunch and happened to see him eating there. I sat down with him for a few minutes and that was it.”
“What were you so angry about?” I asked.
A flicker of fury briefly showed in his eyes. “He was the one who was angry. Then I reacted to his anger. I admit I shouldn’t have. I brought up his bill, that’s all.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “His bill? You’re not exactly working in accounts receivable. Are you very conversant on who owes money to your practice and who doesn’t?”
He shrugged. “It’s a small town, and therefore a small business. Although I’m a physician there and have office staff, I know a lot more about what goes on in the business side than doctors in bigger cities. The staff had mentioned they had a tough time getting hold of Roger and of extracting any sort of payment from him for services rendered about a year ago.”
“It must have been a significant amount of money for them to be concerned about it,” I said.
Kenneth said, “I can’t discuss patients or their treatments. But it was a procedure, yes. It wasn’t just a regular office visit or something like that. As I mentioned, I happened to see him there, remembered there was a problem collecting payment, and sat down to discuss it with him. He became angry and defensive and I became angry in return. It annoyed me that I’d performed a service and Roger thought I didn’t deserve compensation for it.”
“And that was the only time you saw him outside the office?” I asked.
He gave me an amused look. “I hope you’re not imagining I would murder Roger. That wouldn’t be a very effective way to get my payment, would it?” He paused. “When did he pass away? I can probably tell you what I was doing at the time.”
“Friday night.”
Kenneth pressed his lips together in annoyance. “I was working late at the office. I had to catch up on some notes, answer some emails from patients, and do the other red tape doctors have to put up with these days.”
“Can anyone in the office vouch for that?” I asked.
He shook his head as if in amazement at my impudence and gave a short laugh. “They’d all left for the day. Look, I’m sorry about what happened to Roger and I understand you want questions answered. But it had nothing to do with me. You need to be talking to somebody else. Not that I know who ‘someone else’ might be. I didn’t really know the guy. And don’t imagine I had a motive, either. I have plenty of patients who don’t pay—some of them are here in the library right now. And you can see I haven’t been trying to play debt collector. Instead, I’ve been helping by volunteering at an event that should help the community be healthier.”
I could tell the PR side of him was cranking up and that I wouldn’t get anything further. “Okay. Thanks for that, by the way. The event is a huge success. I bet you’re catching all sorts of health issues and helping to prevent them from getting worse.”
He gave me a more genuine smile. “Thanks. I hope so. Early detection is really key for most of the big stuff.” He stood up. “I’d better get back to it.”
Chapter Twelve
BY THE END OF THE AFTERNOON, I was setting up the community room for the self-defense class by pulling chairs and tables into a roomy closet.
Wilson stuck his head in the door and held out an envelope. “Mail for you.”
“Mail?” I asked. I smoothed down my hair absently, realizing it was sticking up in the back from the furniture moving. “When do I get mail at the library?”
I took it from Wilson and frowned. “This isn’t even mail. No stamp. Looks like someone must have dropped it off.”
He shrugged. “Well, they dropped it off in a pile of library mail. I know the best way to find out more—open it up.”
I did and then stared at the single sheet of paper inside.
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