Deadly Cost of Goods

by Margaret Evans

  “I don’t know what to say! How many designs are there?”

  “No idea. I just kept printing them. They’re all ‘no royalty’ graphics, so no cost there. Some are just U.S.A. in red, white, and blue sparkly letters. And yes, I will give you an invoice for the tees and the transfer paper. You know I absolutely love doing these things. It’s so much fun and reminds me of all the stuff we used to do at your house when we were little.”

  At your house.

  Yes, Laura thought, we played at both houses, but at mine, we were allowed to make messes if we helped clean them up. Those were good times.

  “Okay, wow. I can’t get over this. And different sizes, too. Do you have time to help me sort by size and come up with a fair price?”

  “Sure! Are you doing any fund-raisers this time?”

  Laura shook her head.

  “Just the dunk tank.”

  Jenna tried but failed to keep from smiling.

  “I don’t know how you convinced Connor to do it, but whatever you had to do, it was worth it.”

  “I whined.”

  Jenna laughed.

  “Anybody else from the station going to join him?”

  “He says Sam agreed, and Mo is a shoe-in, and he’s working on several other possibilities. His incentive is not to do it alone.”

  Within fifteen minutes, the tees were all sorted by style and size, and they filled up the rest of the work table. All the while, Empress Isabella sat perched on the table overlooking the process so they made no mistakes. Thankfully, Jenna had turned to look at her phone when the cat’s paw dragged one t-shirt to the correctly sized pile. Upon Jenna returning her attention to the tees, she picked up the miscreant t-shirt, checked the size, and looked momentarily puzzled as to why she thought it was in the wrong pile. A quick shrug took care of it.

  “Are you waiting for anything else to arrive?”

  “Red-white-and-blue wax teeth and red-white-and-blue strings of beads and red-white-and-blue fake tattoos, and the baseball caps with the fake sparklers that blink. But those may already be out back. Recent deliveries.”

  “The kids will love them!”

  “I hope so,” Laura said.

  “Okay, you print the price tags and I’ll punch them on with the plastic tag puncher thing. By the way, who’s working with you on the coloring books and town history books?”

  “You know about those how?”

  “Erica.”

  Laura smiled. She could always count on Erica and her inability to keep her mouth shut.

  “I was thinking of asking Kelly to help with the coloring books. Would you like to help me design and produce the town history booklets and maybe a Memorial Day flyer?”

  Jenna clapped her hands together.

  “I was hoping you would ask. Are we going to Michael Pickens Photography Studio for the historic town pictures?”

  “Yes, I was thinking of doing that. First, I wanted to check with Smedley & Smedley for the names of any veterans of any wars who came from this town. I think Harry might know of the vets who still live here, or at least their families. I wanted to include them all. Pickens might have some old vets’ photos. We can even have a list of all the countries our families are from…if we have time.”

  “That’s a great idea. Let me know when you want to go to Pickens.”

  Before Jenna left, the store was completely stocked with all the items currently in the workroom. Everything had been inventoried and tagged. Excess remained on the work table to restock the store as needed. They had also tackled a dynamic design for the front window that Laura could do by herself late this afternoon. After Jenna left, Laura brought the fresh delivery boxes inside. She’d look at them later.

  Now, however, it was time to keep her part of the bargain with Empress Isabella. If she didn’t, who knew what would happen…

  Chapter 5

  Continuing Laura’s research into the history of the Old Library confirmed it was originally named the Raging Ford Public Library. It was also the name of the New Library, although all the townsfolk called it the New Library regardless of what was printed on their library cards, stamped in the books, and shining brightly over the library’s front door. The name curved along the top half of a small, circular stained glass window showing a bright yellow flame. Everyone claimed the two names were for clarity. One day, she feared, all of this charm might be forgotten, and it would resume its legal name, at least until another newer library was built.

  Below a full color picture of the Old Library exterior was a caption. It explained that the framework and floors of much of the Old Library was iron, in plentiful supply at the time. The indoor walls were plaster over lath, and the floors were covered in oak. The outside was clothed in smooth, granite blocks, whitewashed in gleaming lime. The decorative, Victorian trim was all hand carved and stained in dark oak.

  As always, Laura was dazzled whenever she saw photographs of the interior. Entering through the tall, front double doors pulled a person into an amazing architectural design of floor, vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows, and two mezzanines that encircled the entire building, edged entirely in brass rails.

  The awe began with the parquet flooring that consisted of rectangular, light-colored oak pieces, all the same size but framed by darker wood strips surrounding every batch of thirty or forty of the rectangles. The frames and oak pieces continued throughout the entire library. The effect was amazing as if there were shelves of books everywhere a person walked.

  If a patron looked up from the floor and straight back, that person would see a vaulted, floor-to-ceiling stained glass window, depicting a huge bald eagle in flight. Beneath the eagle were the words on a stained glass banner: I am brave and adventurous. No one can stop my thirst for knowledge.

  And as if that wasn’t enough to take one’s breath, a look up toward the ceiling revealed sunlight flooding the central and main portions of the library through five A-frame skylights, running from the front to the back of the roof. They withstood heavy snows and allowed the melting to run toward either side of the roof, which had a shallow, inverted V-crease down the outside of the roof’s center that directed water on each half of the roof toward the longer side edges ensuring the runoff. Gutters also ran along both outside edges of the library’s roof and emptied into five downspouts on each side of the building, one at the front corner of the library, one in the middle of the wall, one at the end of the wall, and two others spaced evenly between each end and middle ones. The system, according to the online source, had worked well.

  The remainder of the ceiling consisted of white, ceramic tiles with puffy, swirling designs, inviting patrons into the clouds along with the eagle, daring them to be brave and adventurous in their lives.

  Speaking of a patron walking inside for the first time, eyes would also be drawn to the shining brass railings that ran along the edges of the two mezzanine floors and the sparkling, electric chandeliers that shed light on the books and reading areas. The shelving ran in aisles perpendicular to the length of each mezzanine.

  When a mezzanine walkway arrived at the back of the building, it turned the corner and spread straight across the back glass wall, meeting the other corner at the other side of the building. Then the mezzanine continued its way down the other long side of the building and across the front wall, so that patrons could walk around all four sides of the library and stop to look out the “eagle” window at the beautiful, natural forested lands outdoors. There were no bookshelves on the front and back walls except on the first floor.

  Electric chandeliers and sconces lit up the whole building, supplementing the five skylights and the grand, stained glass window on the back wall. Narrow, spiral, iron staircases were on every floor in each corner of the building to enable patrons to climb to a different level. There was also mention of “dumbwaiters” designed with edges and railings to carry rolling carts of books up and down to other levels for re-shelving or repair, through a series of ropes and pulleys. These could be
accessed outside each dumbwaiter door by cranking a handle and locking it when it reached the appropriate floor. Peter Fulton had mentioned the hand-carved wooden “end caps” at the end of each set of back-to-back shelves. There were loads of pictures of these, as well.

  Laura realized she was virtually walking into an island of amazing dreams that belonged to her ancestor, Samuel Rage. It appeared he spent everything he wanted on this beautiful, Victorian-style building and intended it to be an invitation to learning and discovery.

  But she knew there was so much more to the building than existed in most of the documents and pictures she found online. Both her mother and her great-aunt had spoken of secret passageways to rooms where librarians worked, repairing damaged books and cataloguing new ones. There were hidden staircases that took librarians to these places, but their location remained a mystery and only a legend until Connor’s older brother, Ian, then fifteen, had decided to find out for himself.

  And it brought back all of Laura’s memories of her first real visit to the Old Library.

  Chapter 6

  Seventeen years earlier

  One boring, summer day when Laura was nine years old, Ian Fitzpatrick gathered his younger brother Connor and a few of said younger brother’s friends which included Max Downey, Nicky Rayles, Sven Mortensen, Jack Flynn, and Laura Keene for what Ian called an adventure. He swore them all to secrecy then led them bicycling down Route 4 until they were at the Old Library.

  However, instead of turning into the library, which was boarded up for safety, they turned left into the woodsy area across the street. Silent as Navy S.E.A.L.s, they walked their bikes, one by one, into the shed next to the bait and tackle shop. When all were inside, Ian closed the shed door and pulled a lock-picking tool from his pocket.

  “That’s Dad’s,” Connor had said, accusing his brother of theft. Their father was a police officer and there would be consequences if the pick set wasn’t where it should be.

  “Shut up,” was Ian’s response. “When I put it back, he’ll never know.”

  Ian then picked the padlock on the door that would take them, by legend and much-embellished town tales, deep into the ground and through a magical tunnel to the other side of the road and up another staircase into the Old Library. Whether any of it was true or not, they all hoped to find out for sure on this day.

  Laura remembered much of the experience as if it were yesterday. She recalled her hope that there was an electric switch that turned on lights in the tunnel. Once the door was unlocked, Ian almost broke it into splinters trying to pull it open on its rusted hinges. He settled for a twelve-inch opening through which they each slid and waited on an earthen landing with barely enough space to hold all of them at once. Save for the dim light of the shed, they were in total darkness, not Laura’s greatest fear, but she knew total darkness was total blindness.

  “Did you bring a flashlight, Ian?” Laura asked.

  When he pulled it out of his pocket, there were audible sighs of relief from everyone, then he snapped it on and the group held onto each other, one hand with the person in front and the other with the person behind, like elephants’ trunks holding tails. They descended the squared-off staircase—not truly circular—for what seemed like forever. At the bottom of the stairs was another door which had no lock and when Ian opened it, all of the children held their breaths which wasn’t hard because the air was so dank. One person coughed.

  A long, dark tunnel stretched out endlessly ahead of them. There was a discussion of which direction they were actually headed, given the squared-off staircase. It was Laura, the youngest of the group, who remembered something her father had told her about squared-off staircases and keeping your location and direction straight.

  “It’s like being under water in the lake and you might be swimming so deep you get confused. Blow out a few bubbles and you’ll know where the surface is. With a squared-off staircase, four turns puts you in the direction you started. There’s always a way to get your bearings.” Then she’d asked him what bearings were, and he went back to listening to the news on TV.

  “We went around four complete turns ten times. So we are going in the right direction.”

  Of course, the other kids rolled their eyes, all being older by at least a year and boys.

  But Ian was willing to bank on Laura’s advice and they carefully crept through the tunnel, holding hands as they had done on the staircase. At one point, Ian shined his flashlight to the side, and the kids saw doors to rooms along the tunnel. They stopped to peek into a few of them and saw mostly empty rooms but some with rusting cot frames and empty glass bottles that might once have held water.

  They continued to the end of the tunnel and encountered another door, inside which was a squared-off staircase identical to the one they had descended at the other end of the tunnel. Once they reached the top, they were confronted with two doors. Ian picked a lock on one door. As he turned the knob and pushed inward, an amazing thing happened.

  A large section of the whole wall moved inward.

  They almost turned back, but Ian forged ahead. He went first into the room behind the moving wall, turned back to the others, in total darkness, and said, “We’re here! Come on.”

  It was not much brighter than total darkness in the room in which the children found themselves. It looked a lot like a work room, but there were no longer any supplies, just some broken shelving and a whole lot of dust and grime. And the requisite spiders with their webs.

  From this room, there was another door that opened onto the main library floor. They peeked inside the enormous space. The magnificent stained glass window on the back wall was dark as well, boarded up on the outside. Laura could still see its stunning design when Ian shone his light on it.

  “Let’s try the other door,” Ian said and they all trooped back to the second door that, once Ian picked open the lock, led them up a very narrow, real circular staircase to the second floor mezzanine. The staircase continued up to the third level, but they stopped on the second.

  They entered a narrow passageway which was clearly behind the bookshelves accessible to the patrons on the mezzanine—they had found the hidden passageways! On their left was a series of doors, all ajar, opening into small rooms once lit by sunlight through the now boarded-up windows. All furniture was gone, but they were likely stock rooms for extra or new books, or work rooms for cataloguing or mending books.

  On their right, they noticed another bank of doors, equally spaced. Then there was an off-cycle door that was smaller than the others. They opened one of the regular doors and discovered it revealed a panel behind the bookshelves on the mezzanine with a peephole to see who was out among the books. Below the peephole was a large, ornate, brass lever that, when Ian turned it, caused a screeching sound and the wall began to swing slowly inward to the side, into the aisle between the bookshelves on the other side. With rusty hinges, it didn’t move very far, but the kids slipped through the hole to look out in wonder from the second mezzanine to see the vast interior of the library.

  Nobody worried about the door shutting behind them and locking them out. They knew there was another way down. But what they never thought to worry about confronted them the minute they began to walk onto the actual mezzanine and lean on the old brass railings.

  Until now.

  Directly across from them and up one mezzanine level on the opposite side of the library stood a girl with long, pale braids. She looked as if she was in a cloud, and the air surrounding her stirred both the wisps of loose hair surrounding her face and her long dress. A white pinafore contrasted with a dark blue plaid, long-sleeved dress she wore, and her arms were outstretched to the children as if welcoming or imploring them for help.

  She moved her lips, but no sound could be heard.

  At that point, Ian screamed, and he dropped the flashlight and high-tailed it back to the staircase which he almost fell down had it not been for the safety railing. Connor picked up the flashlight and the boys a
ll turned to hurry away from what they thought they had seen.

  “C’mon, Laura,” Connor said, pulling her by the arm.

  But it was so hard for her to turn away from the girl who looked as if she were asking for help, reaching her arms to Laura.

  Chapter 7

  Present day

  “So much for Ian’s brave adventure,” Laura told the cat that was visible nowhere at the moment, not even to make sure Laura kept her part of the bargain.

  Ian had dropped his father’s lock pick set somewhere along the way and eventually the whole story came out. He was grounded for a month and never took his younger brother or anybody else on an adventure again, having decided somewhere during those four weeks that his burgeoning interest in girls might better serve his well-being and mental health going forward.

  Laura remembered returning there a second time with Connor and they’d seen the girl again. Connor snuck back once more with only Max and Nicky, and the boys had seen nothing.

  Connor had mentioned to Laura that he had overheard his mother on the phone with her mother shortly after the incident. He only got one side of the conversation, but it was clear his mother was saying something about the “ghost” in the Old Library.

  Laura smiled. She knew who it was. She’d always known, growing up with the stories as she had.

  The child who disappeared without a trace after returning her books to the library one summer afternoon was…Lorelei Rage, a distant relative of Laura’s and granddaughter of Samuel Rage, one of the town’s founders. Teams had searched the countryside, woodlands, and even the St. Louis River for her, but to no avail. The hunt went on for years at Samuel Rage’s insistence. He refused to abandon the search for the child. She was just one of the many Rage family members who had disappeared without a trace.