by Ellery Adams
While the nurse completed her tasks, Nora thought about another nurse with glacier-blue eyes and the tender touch of a grandmother. Not for the first time, she wished she’d made more of an effort to thank that woman for the books. And the kindness.
“The doctor’s on his rounds. He should be here shortly,” said the present-day nurse. “Are you experiencing any discomfort at all?”
“No discomfort. But I’m hungry.” Nora wanted to recover her strength. She was eager to earn her walking papers and return to Miracle Books. And to her friends.
The nurse assured Nora that lunch would soon be served and left. Nora immediately motioned for Jed to return to his spot.
Smiling, Jed obliged. Once settled, he continued his narrative.
“Deputy Andrews is the real hero of this story. After you, that is. And June, Hester, and Estella. When I pulled up to the model home, Andrews had Collin Stone pinned to the ground. He was trying to secure his wrists while Stone fought like the fish in Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea.”
“Nice literary reference.”
Jed was pleased. “Thanks. I had three days to come up with it. Anyway, when Andrews spotted me, he yelled for me to check the kitchen. He’d heard what had been said from the moment you, June, and Hester had entered the house—I guess Hester’s cell phone was in her pocket on speaker mode. Andrews was listening on the other end, and he jumped in his car when it sounded like you ladies were in danger.”
Nora gripped Jed’s arm. “Are they okay? June and Hester?”
“Yes.” Jed covered Nora’s hand with his. “They’re fine. Other than worrying about you. They haven’t had much sleep, but after your release, all four of you can rest in your own beds.”
Nora stared at him. “Wait. You said four.”
Jed squeezed her hand and Nora’s mouth stretched into such a wide smile that the burn scars on her right cheek twitched. She didn’t care. She was too happy to worry about how she looked. “We did it? We did it! We freed Estella and nailed . . .” She trailed off. “Have those Pine Ridge pricks taken her place in jail?”
“The feds took Sheriff Hendricks, Dawson Hendricks, Vanessa MacCavity, and Collin Stone into custody. They’re in a cell, just not in Miracle Springs.”
Nora recalled the shrill screams of agony echoing down the hallway of the model home seconds before the fire had begun. “And Bob?”
“No one could have saved him, Nora,” Jed said in a subdued tone. “The fire investigator thinks he was gone before Andrews and I had even parked our cars.”
Up to this point, Nora had been leaning forward, completely captivated by all that Jed had told her. Now she fell back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.
“Bob killed two people,” she murmured. “He pushed Neil in front of a train for money. He served Fenton Greer a potassium-chloride cocktail chased by a killer dose of carbon monoxide because the money didn’t get him the girl and he decided to punish the girl by framing her for murder.” She released a pent-up breath. “Bob did reprehensible things, so why don’t I feel like the scales of justice have been balanced?”
“Is it because you know that Bob’s death was far worse than incarceration?” Jed guessed.
After considering this, Nora shook her head. “His screams will probably haunt my sleep for many nights to come, but it’s more than the horrible way he died. It’s more than the fact that he was burned.” With her gaze fixed on the ceiling, Nora continued: “Bob thought he loved Estella. He built a fantasy life around her, and when she didn’t want to take her place in his fantasy, he punished her. I understand the power and allure of fantasy—of becoming so attached to what might be that you pay no attention to reality. Before I moved to Miracle Springs, I made the same mistake. And like Bob, I lost my mind when my fantasy world fell apart.”
“You didn’t kill anyone, though,” Jed said.
“I almost did.” Nora took his hand and pressed it to the burn scar on her face. “That’s how I came by this.”
Though Jed seemed shocked by Nora’s admission, he didn’t pull away.
“One day, after I tell my friends, I’ll tell you my story,” Nora promised. “If you want to hear it.”
“I do,” Jed said. “And I—”
He was interrupted by a shriek of delight from the doorway. Estella burst into the room.
She rushed to Nora’s side, swerving around the IV pole, and planted a kiss on Nora’s forehead.
“Your hair looks like a squirrel’s nest,” she said, frowning in disapproval.
June and Hester appeared at the foot of the bed, but Nora only had eyes for Estella. Other than being a trifle pale, she was as lovely as ever. She wore a yellow dress trimmed with white, lipstick the color of a ripe persimmon, and an abundance of jasmine perfume.
“It’s nice to see you too.” Nora gave Estella a wry smile.
“You’re still beautiful!” Estella jerked a thumb at Jed. “Why else would this stud spend the last three days in this awful room?”
Averting his face, Jed rose from his chair. He then indicated that June or Hester should take it. Hester accepted, while June opted for the recliner in the corner. Estella remained where she was.
Nora asked her friends to bring her up to speed on the investigation.
“The media has dubbed the whole mess ‘The Meadows Murders, ’” Hester said. “And we have a very recent update from Deputy Andrews.”
“You have an update,” June corrected. “Because he’s sweet on you.”
Ignoring June, Hester went on, “Sheriff Toad, Dawson, Vanessa, and Collin are being charged with mortgage fraud. There’s enough proof to land them in prison for a couple of years, but sticking them with a conspiracy or accessory to commit murder charge is harder. The authorities need concrete evidence and no one knows where Bob hid his insurance.”
“If he was telling the truth,” Estella added caustically.
Nora remembered Bob’s last words verbatim. “Down the swift dark stream you go.”
She let the words hang in space for a moment before repeating them. She had no doubt she recalled them with such ease because they’d come from a book.
And then, she began to smile.
“Is something funny?” Estella asked.
“I used to work with a wonderful children’s librarian,” Nora explained. “She could really bring characters to life when she read aloud. If a book included a song, she’d sing it. With gusto. The kids adored her.”
June was the first to understand. “Bob’s words are from a song?”
“Yes,” Nora said. Very softly, she sang the two lines:
Down the swift dark stream you go,
Back to the lands you once did know!
Other lines from the song flowed through Nora’s mind like the river from its lyrics, infusing her with energy. She felt her blood course through her body. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She was alive and filled with purpose. And the Secret, Book, and Scone Society had another important task to complete.
Nora turned to Estella. “Can you work your magic on my doctor? I want to get out of here right now.”
“I’ll do my best.” Estella took out her compact and examined her reflection. Satisfied by what she saw, she shoved it back in her bag. “June, you’d better come with me. You speak better ‘medical’ than I do.”
As soon as her friends were gone, Nora looked at Hester. “Will you call Andrews? I’d like go straight from here to Bob’s house. I think I can help find the evidence Bob hid away.”
Hester gaped at her. “Because of a song?”
“Yes,” Nora said. “I’ve always been a fan of Tolkien, but never so much as now.”
She was about to throw off her sheet and blanket when she realized that she was clad in a scanty hospital gown. “Do I have clothes?” she asked Jed as Hester stepped into the hallway to make her phone call.
Jed removed a white plastic bag stamped PATIENT BELONGINGS from the wardrobe and placed it on the bed. He then touc
hed her hand with his fingertips. It was a good-bye touch. “I should be going too, but I’ll see you in town. I need something new to read, and I’m hoping you can recommend a book or two.”
A different nurse bustled in before Nora could answer, her clipboard catching the light.
The wink of silver reminded Nora of another nurse in another hospital. A woman who had saved Nora from darkness. Books and kindness had saved her.
Nora thought of her beloved bookstore, of the hundreds of books waiting to be placed in empty, scarred, and imperfect hands. Young, smooth, unblemished hands. Old, wrinkled, age-spotted hands. Deserving hands, all of them. Every time Nora passed a book from her hand to another’s, she knew that she was doing far more than selling a stranger a story. She was offering them a new beginning. Just as she had been offered a fresh start all those years ago. By turning pages. By absorbing words, images, emotions, and dreams.
“Recommend a book or two?” Nora smiled at Jed. “I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
Afterword
As soon as healing takes place, go out and heal somebody else.
—Maya Angelou
It was late in the afternoon by the time Nora and the other members of the Secret, Book, and Scone Society met Deputy Andrews at a log cabin in the middle of the woods.
“It’s so peaceful here.” June gazed around. “So quiet.”
Estella smirked. “It’s both too isolated and too close to the Trail. I’d worry about hikers knocking on my door, asking to use the bathroom or something.”
Nora was too focused on getting inside to offer an opinion on Bob’s house. She headed straight for Andrews, who immediately offered her his hand. “I’m so glad that you’re okay, Ms. Pennington. Without you and the rest of these ladies, there wouldn’t be an investigation at all.”
“Thank you for trusting us, Deputy,” Nora said. “You took a major risk, going against your boss. It couldn’t have been easy.”
Andrews shook his head. “No, but like my mama says, doing the right thing usually isn’t easy. It’s damned hard. And I’m not innocent, either. I didn’t start reviewing the files after you asked me to. The doubt had to work its way in. Ender’s Game helped.”
Nora stared at him in surprise. “How?”
“There’s a line in the book about lies being more dependable than truth,” Andrews said as he unlocked Bob’s door. “I’d become so used to the sheriff’s lies that I believed them. They felt dependable. If you and Orson Scott Card hadn’t made me question things, I doubt I would have chanced losing my job without more evidence.”
“I hope we’ll find that today,” Nora said. “Otherwise, the risks we’ve taken won’t amount to much. Fines and a few years in prison are hardly a just punishment for two murders and a plot to commit mortgage fraud in multiple towns.”
Andrews waved for Nora to precede him into the cabin. “Collin Stone will be charged with at least one count of murder.”
“Bob’s,” Nora whispered.
As she stepped into the silent house, she felt unexpectedly cold. It was unsettling to see the signs of Bob’s life: the leather club chair by the fireplace, the crocheted afghan on the sofa, the collection of books and knickknacks on the shelves of a painted hutch, the framed maps and travel posters on the walls.
Estella, who’d entered the cabin behind Andrews, rubbed her hands over her arms. “Is it just me? Or is it chilly in here?”
June gave her a quick, one-armed hug. “We need to turn on some lights. The trees are blocking the sunshine.” She steered Estella in the opposite direction. “Let’s check out the kitchen.”
“I’m going to see if the tool shed’s unlocked,” Hester said, and darted back outside.
Andrews watched her leave and then showed Nora his phone screen. “After Hester told me about the song, I bookmarked a website on Tolkien. Bob’s hint about where his insurance is hidden came from the Wood-elves’ Barrel song.”
“It’s from The Hobbit.” Nora gestured at the travel posters. “Like Tolkien, Bob clearly dreamed of faraway places. Both men also liked maps.” She moved closer to the bookcases. “Bob owns all of Tolkien’s titles.”
Andrews joined her. “Do you think he hid the proof inside one of these books?”
“I’m not sure,” Nora confessed. “There’s a reason he picked a song about wine barrels floating downstream. This was how the barrels were delivered to the men of Lake-town in order to be refilled, but it was also how the dwarves and one Hobbit escaped from the Wood-elves. They hid in the barrels.”
Andrews turned away from the bookcase, his eyes scanning the dim living room. “A barrel. Could it be that literal?”
As it turned out, it was. Nora and Andrews found a vintage Coca-Cola advertising bank shaped like a barrel in Bob’s bedroom. This room, with its heavy wood furniture and dark bedding, was even colder and less light-filled than the downstairs spaces, and the lamp on the nightstand only served to emphasize the gloom.
“I always imagined a log cabin as being cozy. Quilts, crackling fires, snow on the sill, coffee laced with whiskey—that sort of thing,” Nora said. “This one’s depressing.”
Andrews, who’d poked his head into the bathroom, glanced back at Nora. “A friend of mine lives on the other side of the ridge. His cabin has a totally different feel. It’s bright and colorful. Probably because his family lives there—a wife, two kids, and a dog.”
Nora realized that Bob’s house had slowly developed a patina of loneliness and longing. He’d tried to escape these feelings by pinning all his hopes on winning Estella, and when that had failed, he’d become unstable and destructive.
Again, Nora felt conflicted over Bob’s death. Drawn to the dresser, she reached for a black-and-white photograph of a man, a woman, and a little boy in denim overalls. The adults each held one of the boy’s hands and were gazing down at him with such affection that Nora guessed they must be Bob’s parents.
There were two other photographs of the same family. In both scenes, the subjects had aged, but their love for each other shone from their eyes and lit their faces. Behind the third photograph, Nora spied a wooden barrel bank.
“Deputy Andrews,” Nora whispered. She knew better than to touch the bank. “This might be what we’re looking for.”
Andrews pulled on a pair of gloves. After examining the barrel’s underside, he produced a pocketknife from his utility belt and pried open the base.
Nora half-expected a shower of coins to fall to the floor. However, whatever had been hidden inside the barrel seemed to be stuck. Andrews pinched the edge of the object with his forefingers and carefully withdrew an envelope from the round aperture.
“There’s writing on the front,” Nora said.
Flipping it over, Andrews read the text aloud: “‘False hopes are more dangerous than fears.’ Forgive me, Estella.”
“Another line from Tolkien, I think.” Nora pointed at the second phrase. “It’s as if Bob knew Collin and the others would turn on him.”
Andrews stared at the envelope. “I should take this straight to the lab, but you four deserve to know what’s inside. Let’s go down to the kitchen.”
They descended the stairs to find Estella sitting in the chair by the fire, her gaze fixed on a poster of the Greek island of Santorini.
“He never talked about any of this,” she said quietly. “Traveling. Maps. Books. He’d compliment me on my dress or ask after my clients. We’d compare notes about working service-oriented jobs or complain about the weather. The only deep conversation we ever had was when he asked why I wouldn’t date local men. I told him a bit about my past. Not much, but more than I tell most people.”
Though Nora was dying to see the contents of Bob’s envelope, she knew why Estella’s voice was tinged with grief and guilt. “You aren’t responsible for Bob’s actions. Even if you’d gone out with him, he would have doubted your sincerity. He wasn’t looking for something real. He was looking for an escape. That’s what you were to
him. A fantasy. His life was probably a succession of shattered fantasies.” Nora gestured at the doorway where Andrews patiently waited. “Estella. We found something.”
This declaration brought June into the room.
“Praise Jesus! I’m going to call Hester.” June rushed outside and shouted for Hester, who raced into the kitchen with her eyes shining. Turning an electric smile on Andrews, she asked, “You did it? You found what you needed?”
Though reluctant to disappoint her, Andrews said, “Not me. Nora.”
“We found it together,” Nora clarified, and made a hurry-up gesture.
Using his pocketknife, Andrews cut a neat slit along the envelope’s seam. He then pulled out a letter and a flash drive. The flash drive went right back into the envelope, but Andrews unfolded the typewritten letter and began to read.
“This USB drive contains the communication between myself and Collin Stone of Stone Construction. Stone and the senior partners of Pine Ridge Properties paid me to kill Neil Parrish. They wanted Parrish’s death to look like an accident, so I asked Parrish to meet me near the train tracks. Neil and me had gotten pretty friendly. I knew he was having second thoughts about ripping off the good people of Miracle Springs. I couldn’t trust him to do the right thing, so I told him a different version of the padlock legend. I said that if he hung a padlock and the incoming train flattened his key, it meant that he could change his destiny. The guy was so caught up in the idea that he never sensed danger coming. I almost felt bad for him. But I know greedy city types. They don’t ever change. My parents lost everything in a real-estate scam to a city guy just like Parrish. Getting suckered like that drove them to an early grave and changed the course my life was supposed to take. I could have been so much more.
“But I’m more than people think I am. I sure had the Pine Ridge assholes fooled. I told Collin Stone that I wanted money to impress Estella, but that was a lie. I wanted to get back at the scum who look at people like me—at the regular Joes—and see us as disposable. My only regret is what I did to Estella. I knew she’d be released when Stone and his partners ran off with the profits, but I hated the thought of her being in jail. Tell her I’m sorry. I know she’ll understand. She is the finest woman I’ve ever known.”