I shook my head. Usually I let it go at that, but there’s something in Burton’s calm manner that makes me want to tell him things. “I haven’t had a serious relationship since one I had in college.” I gave a short laugh. “My personal life has always been a mess. I lost my boyfriend, Robert. He was killed by a drunk driver when we were in school.”
Burton’s eyes were sad. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It’s not like you hadn’t had enough loss in your life. You’re not old enough to have gone through tragedy twice.”
I nodded, swallowing to make sure my voice was steady. I didn’t ever talk about Robert and didn’t trust myself not to be emotional when I did. Not only did I still feel grief over losing him, I also still felt a sense of irrational guilt. He’d been on his way to bring me soup from Panera when he’d been hit by the drunk driver. I’d been sick with a cold and was barraged by exams and he’d picked up soup on the spur of the moment for me. I decided it would be safer for me to ask more questions about Burton instead of being the focus of the conversation.
“And what made you decide to move here?” I asked. “Although it sounds like it ended up being a lot busier here than you were expecting.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I wanted a slower pace. Now I’m kind of laughing about that. I was the chief in a bigger town and it seemed like every day I was absolutely drained by the end of the day. I started looking out for something a little quieter and saw an opening here. Of course, the fact that there’s a lake and mountains and rivers and beautiful old buildings made it an even easier sell. So here I am.”
“I hope you’ll enjoy it here,” I said. “I really think the spurt of busyness is just temporary. Soon, it will be back to being slow paced again.”
“Well, in case it isn’t, you’ve had a self-defense class,” he said wryly. “Just keep your wits about you and you’ll be fine.” I nodded, although my mind was with those newspapers. I wanted to read more about the car accident, which I’d forgotten about until the chief mentioned it.
After leaving Burton, I settled at the circulation desk and opened up my browser to the local newspaper. Since I’d found Roger’s body, I hadn’t done more than give the paper a cursory glance every morning. I sighed. The newspaper’s website was down. This was a fairly typical problem there, which served as a constant annoyance to me. Patrons who weren’t subscribers frequently asked me to print out a copy of a wedding announcement or an obituary. Frequently, I was in the position of having to dig out the physical copy of the paper and make photocopies of it.
I got up and walked to the periodicals, helping a patron find a book along the way. I sifted through the stack of archived copies to find the original story about the fatal car accident. It was several days before Roger had been murdered. I carried the newspaper back to the circulation desk and read the story through. It was written as a tribute to Elsie Brennon, who’d been 85 years old at the time of the crash and had lived in Whitby her entire life. It had been rainy that night, and it was a stretch of road where there were no streetlights (not that there were many in Whitby, anyway). Elsie, on her way home from a church potluck, had apparently lost control of her car on a curve and hit the unforgiving bulk of a large tree near the side of the road.
I sighed. There was really nothing there to suggest anything other than an accident. Then I frowned. This was only the newspaper version of the event—the reporter would hardly have known any details. And, for The Whitby Times, the accident would likely have seemed cut and dried—an elderly driver, a dark and rainy night, and a treacherous curve.
I hesitated and then pulled out my phone to dial the chief.
“Long time no see,” he said dryly when I identified myself.
“I know, sorry. It’s just something you said really made me think,” I said.
He said, “Can’t imagine what that was.”
“It was when you were talking about how busy you’d been and all the different issues you’d been dealing with in Whitby. You mentioned the car crash,” I said.
“Right,” agreed Burton cautiously.
“It’s just that you said that the accident was ‘something you had to deal with.’ Most car accidents aren’t exactly investigations that take up a lot of time, I wouldn’t think,” I said. “Especially this one. It would have seemed more like a tragic accident that occurred in bad weather conditions.” I saw a couple of patrons walking by and I moved to the other side of the desk to make sure our conversation was private.
Burton sighed. “You’re going all Nancy Drew on me again.”
“I was just wondering if maybe it wasn’t a tragic accident,” I said. “Or that it wasn’t that Elsie had some sort of medical event that caused her car to go off the road.”
Burton hesitated. “Okay. I’ll admit it—that’s the direction we’re heading in. Although there wasn’t obviously another car involved because there was no impact of another car on Elsie’s, the car tracks indicate another car likely caused the accident. And we had a witness in town who said there seemed to be one driver who was very agitated with Elsie.”
“Who would have been a very slow driver, I’m guessing,” I said.
“That’s right. At least, that’s what everyone who knows Elsie said. Slow and cautious,” said Burton.
“But if she had been faced with someone with road rage, she might have been distracted or trying to get away,” I guessed.
“Chances are she wouldn’t have been driving like she normally would,” agreed Burton. “And it seemed like the car hit the tree at a high speed.”
“Where exactly did this happen?” I asked.
Burton said, “It wasn’t in the middle of town or else we’d have had plenty of witnesses to it. But apparently, some driver was upset with poor Elsie’s driving in town and then followed her out away from the rest of the traffic.”
“Elsie lived farther out, didn’t she?” I asked.
“That’s right. It’s the old rural route highway. No one really uses it much anymore I hear, since there are faster roads and there’s not much out on that stretch of road,” said Burton.
“And there were no witnesses.” I heard a patron put books down on the desk behind me and quickly said, “Got to go. Thanks, Burton.”
Chapter Eighteen
I TURNED AND SAW LOUISE there with a pile of books. She smiled at me but seemed distracted. We chatted a little about the weather while I got her checked out. Then she said quickly, “I’m going to run to the restroom real quick. Can I leave these books here at the desk for a minute?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Thanks. I think Sadie and Lynn are still deciding what books they want.” And she hurried off. Half a minute later, Sadie and Lynn were at the circulation desk.
I smiled at Sadie. “Ready to check out?”
She grinned back but, as usual, I saw that tiredness in her eyes. “I am. But I’ve just got a bunch of things for Lynn again. I promise the next time I come in I’ll look for something for myself to read, too.”
I said, “Maybe you should try a collection of short stories. That way you can unwind at night before you turn in, but you don’t have to try to keep up with a bunch of characters or story lines.”
Sadie nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe something funny? I feel like life hasn’t given me much to smile about lately.”
“Have you read anything by David Sedaris?” I asked.
Sadie shook her head.
I said, “Give me just a second and I’ll pull out a book of his for you.”
“And I’ll get started on self-checkout while you’re doing that,” said Sadie, pulling out her library card and moving toward the scanner.
I walked over to the stacks and hesitated for a couple of moments to decide which book Sadie might like best. Then I picked out Calypso and walked back to the desk.
“Let me know if you like it,” I said as she thanked me and carefully put the book under the scanner.
I wanted to ask her some more about Roger, but Sadie seeme
d distracted. This might have been because Lynn was apparently hungry and had started crying. The crying was increasing in volume as Sadie continued fumbling with the books. I quickly offered to check them out myself and she gave me a quick smile in response. Sadie reached down and picked Lynn up and started bouncing her around. As I finished up, I glanced around for Fitz. He’d have been the perfect thing to cheer Lynn up. But I saw that Fitz, although looking in our direction, was sitting in Linus Truman’s lap. There was no way I was going to disturb that. I thought again how tough it would be to be a single mom as Lynn continued crying.
Louise hurried up. “I’m so sorry! I was in the ladies’ room. You shouldn’t have tried managing checkout all by yourself.” She reached out for Lynn and swung her off Sadie’s hip and into her arms with surprising strength. She gave the toddler a doting look. “What does Gramma’s little girl want today? A candy bar?” She dug in her purse and produced a Kit-Kat bar. Lynn smiled through her tears at Louise.
“Mom, you’re spoiling her,” said Sadie half-heartedly. She looked relieved that the crying had stopped, though.
Soon her little face lit up with a smile through her tears. I found a plastic bag Sadie could hold her books in.
Louise walked over to a bench against the wall and she and Lynn sat down on it, Louise helping Lynn unwrap her candy.
Sadie seemed to be lingering for a moment so Lynn could enjoy the candy. I said, “Did Roger ever talk about Kenneth Driscoll?”
Sadie’s eyebrows rose. “What . . . the doctor? I don’t think so. I mean, Roger never went to the doctor. He was one of those annoying guys who was never sick. And I don’t think the two of them would have been friends.”
I said slowly, “Could you see a situation where maybe Roger would know something about someone else and maybe use that information against them?”
Lynn reached into the plastic bag and grabbed one of the board books. She started looking at the pictures as Sadie jiggled her around. “You mean like blackmail? Roger?”
I said quickly, “I didn’t know Roger. It just seemed like he might somehow had been putting some pressure of some kind on Driscoll. I wondered if that sounded like something he might do.”
Sadie looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have immediately said so, but I also wouldn’t have said Roger was the kind of guy who would totally ditch all of his responsibilities. I mean, he never did anything for his mom and then the fact he wouldn’t take any responsibility for Lynn, either? I never would have guessed that when I started dating him.” She frowned. “I did see the doctor acting kind of weird lately. I just didn’t think anything much about it at the time because I was trying to juggle Lynn and some of the books we were returning.”
“What did you see?” I asked.
“He was just acting real furtive, which I thought was weird since he was here at the library,” said Sadie.
“Furtive, as in he didn’t want anyone to see him?” I asked.
“That’s right. And he had something in his hand. It was just sort of odd. I mean, almost everyone goes into the library with something in their hand, right? Maybe they’re returning books, or they have their laptop with them, or their stuff they need to study for school or for work. I mean, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he’d just walked right through the library door, holding something. But the way he was acting looked suspicious.” Sadie shrugged.
“When was this?” I asked.
“Yesterday? Or a couple of days ago. Real recent. And the other weird thing was that after he went in the building, he came right out again almost immediately. He was still looking around to see if anyone was looking at him,” said Sadie.
“Did he see you?” Lynn wasn’t exactly quiet, after all. It seemed odd that Kenneth wouldn’t have seen them.
“No. I’d realized Lynn needed changing, so I’d changed her in the car really fast. She was still looking at a book and I wasn’t talking so I don’t think he noticed us.” She became distracted again as Lynn resumed wailing now the candy was finished. “Sorry, I need to get her out of here. See you later.”
I nodded, feeling distracted myself. It certainly sounded like Kenneth was my anonymous letter writer. I felt somehow chilled by this revelation. Here was someone in a position of trust for our town and he was sneaking around the library to give a local librarian threatening notes? It may be time for everyone to find a new doctor.
I glanced up automatically to greet a patron when I heard the automatic doors swish open after Sadie left. But then I froze. It was Grayson, my neighbor. He grinned at me and headed over to the desk.
“Hi there,” I said, somewhat inanely. I pulled myself together. “Good to see you today. Can I help you find anything?”
“Oh, I thought I’d just run in here to escape Zelda from pitching the homeowner board to me again,” said Grayson lightly.
My eyes opened wide. “Wait, is she outside?”
“No, sorry, just kidding. But if she had been outside, that’s just what I’d have done. No, I thought I’d just check out the library since I hadn’t made it over. And I could use something new to read, too,” he said.
Here I was in more of my natural element. “What kinds of things do you like to read?” I asked. I waited, expecting nonfiction of some sort—maybe an inspirational book by a business leader or a biography of a successful investor.
He said, “Well, I like to read everything and cover all the bases. I realize that would make me better-rounded. But the fact is I tend to like to read science fiction. Have any recommendations?”
“Sure,” I said, quickly coming around the side of the desk. I paused. “I’m guessing you’ve read a lot of the modern classics. “Dune? Collections by Ray Bradbury? Novels by Ursula Le Guin?”
“I won’t say I’ve read them all, but I’ve read a fair amount of their work. And I’ve read the Dune series,” he said as he followed me to the stacks.
“How about The Man in the High Castle by Philip K Dick?” I asked.
He frowned, thinking. “I haven’t read it, but I swear I’ve come across it recently somehow.”
“Philip K Dick also wrote Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. And The Man in the High Castle has been made into a television series, so you might have come across it there.”
Grayson snapped his fingers. “That’s it. But I haven’t watched it. Thanks, I’ll give it a go.”
I pulled the book out of the shelves and handed it to him, feeling relieved I’d finally had an interaction with Grayson that didn’t involve me fumbling for words. “Sounds like you also need to be set up with a library card,” I said.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He grinned again at me and followed me back over to circulation, chatting lightly about our neighborhood and Whitby in general and his thoughts on the town.
I registered him for a library card and then he checked out the book, printing out a small slip of paper as a reminder/bookmark.
“You’re all set,” I said, smiling at him.
He smiled back at me. “Thanks. And thanks for the help.”
A moment of warmth and connection passed between us. At least, I thought it had. But then I heard a voice approaching.
“Grayson?” the voice said.
He turned, and my friend Trista immediately slid into his arms as if she belonged there. He hugged her, and she planted a light kiss on his jaw since she was about a foot shorter than he was.
“I thought I saw your car out there.” She grinned at me. “Hi, Ann. This is the guy I mentioned to you.”
I smiled back at her, even though my heart was somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach. “Grayson and I have actually met. He lives in my neighborhood.”
“How perfect is that?” asked Trista. “Now we really will all have to grab drinks together soon.” She turned back to Grayson. “Don’t tell me you’re a big reader, too? Somehow I wouldn’t have pegged you for it.”
Grayson gave her an indulgent smile. “Clearly, you don’t know everyt
hing about me. I’m a huge reader. I just need to have something to read, and now I do.” He turned to me apologetically. “Sorry, I should know, but the last time we spoke, I realized you hadn’t given me your name.”
I colored a little. It sounded like exactly the sort of thing I’d have done in something of a stressful situation. Apparently, there’d been a one-way introduction. “I’m sorry. It’s Ann. Ann Beckett.”
“Can we go grab some food?” Trista asked, turning her focus back on Grayson. “I’m starving. I’ve missed at least one meal today.”
“Sure thing,” he said with a grin. He looked back over at me, eyes twinkling. “Thanks for your help, Ann. See you soon?”
“See you, Ann!” said Trista.
And they were gone.
I should have known nothing escaped Luna. A couple of minutes later, she was standing next to me. “Dishy guy. Too bad about that vile woman who came in.”
I made a face at her and continued entering periodicals into the system. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, Ann. It was written all over your face,” said Luna with a snort.
I quickly put a hand up to my face and said in alarm, “Was it?”
“Don’t worry. I think it was only obvious to me. I’m, after all, an expert. I’m a librarian—I’m a pro at reading stories,” said Luna dryly. “What’s the story there? An ex?”
I sighed. “Nope. We finally finished going through a rather drawn-out introduction phase today. He’s a new neighbor who I tend to embarrass myself around, that’s all. And the woman isn’t actually vile at all. We’ve known each other since college. I have to hand it to Trista—she’s a fast mover. He hasn’t lived in Whitby very long.”
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