A Mysterious Mix Up

by J. C. Kenney

  The only way to know for sure was to stick to the plan.

  We chatted about a few other things while we finished our meals. When we were outside, I gave my bestie a high five. “Thanks. Mission accomplished. You totally rock.”

  She squeezed me back. “Go get ’em, K.C.”

  With part two of the plan complete, the next thing to do was go home and wait until it was time to go to the library. It was a good thing I had my interview with Goth Girl coming up. Preparing for and conducting the interview would make me focus on work. And keep me from obsessing about the plan.

  I changed into a pair of khaki slacks and the forest green Cobb Literary Agency polo Mom had given me on the one-year anniversary of my time at the helm of the business. Something told me Goth Girl would be in black, so I wanted to counter the darkness, as it were.

  “So far so good, Ursi. I’m gonna need some luck, though. If you have any to spare, I’d appreciate you sharing.”

  I gave my kitty a treat as a peace offering and scratched her along her spine until my hand ached. When I stopped, she gave my hand a gentle bite and followed that by rubbing the spot below her ear against my knuckles. Classic signs of Ursi affection.

  Good luck, indeed.

  A little while later, I went downstairs to Renee’s. I was responding to a request from an editor for another week to decide on a manuscript when someone cleared their throat.

  The young woman before me was a sight I hadn’t experienced since I’d left New York. The Doc Marten boots were jet black. Her leggings were the color of a starless sky at midnight. Black nail polish. Heavy black eyeliner. Short, black hair combed to the side that fell over one eye.

  The pièce de résistance was her top. It was a black T-shirt with “Daughters of Darkness” scrawled across it in white gothic-style lettering. It was, by a mile, the most unorthodox interview ensemble I’d ever experienced. At least her red and black plaid miniskirt gave the ensemble some color.

  I got to my feet and offered to shake. “Allie Cobb. You must be Calypso.”

  “Call me Ishmael.” She took my hand in a strong but not uncomfortable grip. The dozen or so bracelets on her arm rattled as we shook.

  Caught off guard by the odd comment, I cocked my head to the side. Then an idea flared to life. Maybe Calypso was testing me.

  “It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children—”

  “Only found another orphan.” She released my grip and took the seat across from me.

  “You’re a fan of Moby Dick, I take it.” My fingertips tingled as I sat. This young woman, if she wasn’t bluffing, was someone I might be able to work with. It was one thing to know the opening line to the story. It was quite another to know the last one.

  “It’s okay. The theme of obsession leading to one’s ultimate destruction resonates with me.”

  I gripped the arms of my chair like my fingers were a vice. Given what I had planned for later in the day, Calypso’s words seemed prescient.

  “Interesting.” I looked at her resume to buy time while I got my thoughts in order. “Are you a fan of classic literature?”

  She shrugged. “Some. I think Dumas is the greatest writer in history. Cervantes and Tolstoy don’t work for me.”

  Given her offhand tone, it seemed like a waste of time to challenge her on the giants of world literature. Sometimes I couldn’t help myself, though.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, I haven’t met many people barely a year out of high school who’ve read the authors you have.”

  “Yeah, well. I didn’t see eye to eye with my parents very often. Reading was a good way to pass the time and avoid arguments.”

  Turning to books to escape the challenges of real life was something I could identify with. I’d done it more often than I cared to admit when my classmates had bullied me.

  We talked about literature for a little while, then I turned the conversation back to her. “Have you been in town long? Other than the night at the pub, I haven’t seen you before.”

  “I moved here a couple of weeks ago. I’m living with my aunt for now.”

  When I asked Calypso who her aunt was, she pointed toward the sales counter with her thumb.

  “Renee’s your aunt?”

  “She texted me about your intern position. Said I could hang out with her for a while and if I got the position, I could stay as long as I wanted. If not, I could stay a few months and save some money while I plot my next move.”

  I swallowed my pride. So much for my powers of observation. Sure, I’d been out of town and then super occupied since I got back, but not even to notice a new person in the building? That was bad.

  “Besides working at the restaurant, I’m cleaning the apartments on the third floor. That way—”

  “It was you, then.” I snapped my fingers. “A couple of nights ago, I noticed a light on in one of the apartments.”

  Calypso’s cheeks pinked as she bit her lower lip. “I was cleaning the kitchen and forgot to turn it off. Please don’t tell Aunt Renee. I don’t want her to think I’m irresponsible. I’ve been keeping my fingers crossed nobody noticed.”

  Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. “Not at all. I was in the courtyard cleaning my bike. I just happened to see it. I’ve been meaning to ask Renee about it, but now I don’t have to.”

  “Awesome. It’s a cool apartment. Even though cleaning’s hard work, I like hanging out up there.”

  I nodded. It was nice to have someone else who appreciated older buildings. New buildings, with their twenty-first-century wiring and the latest amenities, were nice and easy. They couldn’t compare with the character that came with a living space that was almost a hundred years old, though.

  “I know what you mean. I’m curious about something. Why didn’t you mention your aunt when you sent me your résumé?”

  “I want to get this job based on the merits. What I know. Not who I know.” She straightened her spine and raised her chin a fraction, as if daring me to respond with anything other than a business-only follow-up.

  “Tell me, then. What do you know that can help me? Other than words from dusty, old books.”

  Her eyes went wide then narrowed as she smiled. “Four years of English in high school, including two AP classes. One was English Language and Composition. The other was English Literature and Composition. Among other grammar subjects, I know the difference between a gerund and a split infinitive. Last calendar year, I read one hundred fifty books. You can check on Goodreads for confirmation. And I’m good at math, in case you need help with that.”

  I barked out a laugh. Despite my initial reservations, I was warming up to Calypso. Maybe, just maybe, I had my intern.

  “Sounds like you’ve got what I’m looking for. Tell you what. I have a sample manuscript I’d like you to edit. I’ll e-mail it to you. It’s about fifty pages. Can you get it back to me by Monday?”

  “Are you offering me the job?”

  “I’d like to see your editing before I make a formal offer, but—”

  “Because we haven’t discussed salary or benefits or anything along that line.”

  She had a backbone. No doubt about that. I could play ball. “Do you have salary requirements?”

  “I want to live on my own. To be independent. Like you.” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and slid a piece of paper across the table toward me. Her gray eyes held me.

  “I want that apartment. Between working at the pub and for you, I can do it. If you can meet this number.”

  I wanted to laugh. This wasn’t some end-of-the-world negotiation, after all. On the other hand, her earnestness and clear interest in the position was irresistible. I flipped open the paper and did some quick mental calculations. This time I did laugh.

  “Calypso, I believe we have a deal.” We ha
mmered out a few details, including her duties and a work schedule. Then we made our goodbyes with a plan to get together on Monday to have her sign her employment paperwork.

  Having an intern was exciting. The things we could accomplish together would take the Cobb Literary Agency to a whole new level.

  If I survived my night at the library.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My surprisingly productive conversation with Calypso freed my mind of a big worry. That let me focus on the final part of the plan with a clear mind. On the surface, it was simple enough.

  At the time Matt and I agreed upon, I would ride my bike to the library in order to arrive right before closing. Once everybody else was gone, I’d establish contact with Tommy, who would be waiting in his car, a block away. Then, making sure the entrance doors were unlocked, I’d sit back and wait for the dealer to arrive. As soon as he did, I’d give Tommy the code word and he’d arrive within a minute.

  As I’d reassured Sloane, easy peasy.

  While the rain had moved out, the clouds had remained. The twilight conditions were going to make my attempt at being conspicuous on my ride more challenging. I crossed my fingers that between my green Day-Glo helmet the twins gave me for Christmas and my orange safety vest, I’d be impossible to miss riding up the Boulevard.

  The library closed at eight. At half past seven, I scooped up Ursi and buried my face in her soft fur.

  “I’ll be home soon.” Despite my confidence in the plan, my voice wavered. “Love you more than anything in the world.”

  This was serious business. I wasn’t ignorant about the consequences of my actions like I’d been the first time I went after a criminal. Nor was I engaging in an adrenaline-fueled race to catch a killer, where it was all reaction and no thought.

  I was older, but was I truly any wiser? As I descended the stairs with my trusty steed over my shoulder, I asked Dad for help in that area.

  My route to the library initially took me south on Harrison Street until I reached the Rushing Creek Winery at the edge of town. Then I pedaled east for two blocks and arrived at the Boulevard.

  The goal was to take my time, make eye contact whenever possible, and exchange greetings every chance I got. In short, make it look like a casual cruise through town. It was something I’d done so many times, I could do it in my sleep.

  A group of diners was standing outside the pub having a smoke break as I pedaled by. A few returned my wave.

  There was a line out the door at Marinara’s. I spotted Lori and her daughter in the queue, so I shouted a greeting. They returned it, causing a few heads to turn in my direction. Good. Progress.

  It was like that the rest of the way to the library. What would have normally taken five minutes instead took twenty. Five minutes of that was dedicated to a visit with Maybelle. She was hanging out in front of the pharmacy with two of her friends from breakfast. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to stop and let the ladies know where I was going.

  Ashton greeted me with a shy smile when I entered the library. “I’m sorry I got you caught up in that nasty business yesterday. Are you okay?”

  I gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fine. To be honest, if anyone was going to find that stuff, I’m glad it was me.”

  “I would have totally flipped out. I told my husband about it when I got home. He said the same thing. That with your track record, you’d know just what to do.”

  My cheeks got warm. It was reassuring people in town looked on my crime-fighting antics as a good thing, instead of some form of vigilantism. I’d earned that goodwill. Hopefully, I’d earn it again tonight.

  “Happy I can help out.” I jiggled a set of keys. “My goal is to finish up tonight. Brent gave me his key when he went home. I’ll use it to lock up when I’m done.”

  Since Brent had done so much work at the library, Vicky had given him a key fob to the building. He’d been required to pass a criminal background check and pay a deposit for the fob before the library board approved giving it to him, but he’d proven Vicky’s trust in him hadn’t been misguided. I’d been meaning to return it but was glad I hadn’t once I hatched the plan.

  I was tossing twenty-year-old purchase orders into a box for recycling when Ashton knocked on the door. “Everyone else is gone. Do you want some company?”

  My heart leapt into my throat. The last thing I wanted was to put someone in danger.

  I put my arm around her and guided her toward the exit. “I’ll be fine. It’s cathartic for me. Even if I’m just getting rid of things at this point. Once I’m finished, I’ll be ready to let her go.”

  Ashton’s eyes got cloudy. Then she threw her arms around me. “You’re a godsend, Allie. Text me when you’re finished. Next time I see you at the soccer pitch, I’ll buy you some popcorn.”

  “If it’s not too late, I’ll let you know I’m done. Promise.”

  Once her car drove out of the parking lot, I put the earpiece in place and called Tommy.

  “Reading you loud and clear, Allie. I’ll sit tight until you need me.”

  “Roger that, Officer Abbott.” I chuckled. “Sorry, I always wanted to say that.”

  “And now you have. Remember, keep radio silence. If someone shows up, we don’t want them to know we’re in contact. Abbott out.”

  With my safety net in place, I went back to Vicky’s office to finish my work.

  And wait for a criminal.

  After an hour on my own, I’d filled four boxes with paper for recycling and two more with junk for the dumpster. I plopped down in Vicky’s chair for a breather and pulled out my phone. Brent and I had chatted earlier in the evening. I’d told him I was cleaning out Vicky’s office, without divulging the reason behind it. He’d promised to check in.

  There was nothing from him. Letting out a disappointed sigh, I tossed the phone on the desk and went to the break room for a drink. Granted, all he knew was that I was clearing out Vicky’s office. While the coffee maker gurgled, I told myself it was one less thing for him to worry about. As I stirred sweetener into my cup of liquid gold, I felt a touch of self-recrimination. I’d lied to him about something important. That wasn’t fair and wasn’t conducive to a healthy relationship. I’d have to make amends next time I saw him.

  Oh well, the best laid plans of mice and men, and all that.

  With a cup of steaming coffee in hand, I took a swing through the building to confirm I was still alone.

  I was.

  With a few butterflies flapping their wings in my belly, I went to the entrance. I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered into the darkness. If a bad guy was out there, I couldn’t see him.

  There were a couple of empty boxes behind the checkout counter, so I grabbed them and plodded back to work. Even if I ended up making a fool of myself, at least I was getting Vicky’s office cleared out.

  A little while later, a squeak from the front entrance brought me to a standstill. I swallowed as a chill enveloped me.

  “Allie? Are you here?”

  The voice was one I wasn’t expecting.

  “I’m here, Freddie.” I met her halfway between the office and entrance. While it was always good to see her, I needed to get her out of here ASAP. “What brings you by?”

  “I heard you were working here tonight, so I thought I’d help. Finish faster that way.” She went into Vicky’s office.

  “You don’t have to do that.” By the time I caught up with her, she was standing in the middle of the room, with her hands in her pockets.

  “I’m almost done. See?” I waved my arm around the space, like a Price Is Right model. “Another hour and that’ll be it.”

  “You’ve done more than your fair share for the library, Allie. It’s the least I can do. I’m board president, after all.” She unzipped her black Marinara’s fleece. Remnants of flour clung to her work shirt.

&
nbsp; “Stop. Please.” For a second, I debated telling her what was really going on. She was the board president, after all. I decided against spilling the beans. Divulging the true situation could put her in jeopardy. I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

  “I need to do this. By myself. It’s the only way I’ll get through my grieving process. I hope you can understand that.”

  Over her protests, I took her by the arm and led her to the exit. “Go home. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’m finished. Promise.”

  “If you insist. Vicky always said there was no changing your mind when it was made up.” She gave me a hug and stepped outside. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned and waved. Then she was gone.

  I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. That was way too close.

  To be on the safe side, I did another stroll through the building, taking a look out the windows. It was too dark to see anyone.

  A car’s engine rumbled to life. Hopefully, that meant Freddie was on her way home, where she’d be safe and sound.

  With her out of harm’s way, my heart rate slowed from a gallop to a trot. Now I could get back to work. And get back to wondering when the dealer would show up.

  And if the dealer was also Vicky’s killer.

  A little while later, the entrance door opened again with a squeak. I froze, my heart in my mouth. When the hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention, I backed up against a wall and held my breath.

  It’s time.

  “Tommy, come in.” I waited a few heartbeats for a response. When one didn’t come, I made another attempt. Still nothing.

  Pushing down the panic building, I reached for my phone. It wasn’t in my back pocket. I checked the other one. No luck there, either.

  Think, Allie. Think. I racked my freaked-out brain, desperate to remember where I’d left it. The desk! I’d left it there before I went to make coffee.

  I dashed to the desk. It wasn’t there, either. I picked up the desk phone to call the police. There was no dial tone, no busy signal. Only silence. The situation had gotten sticky.

  “Work the problem, Allie. You can do this.” The encouraging words brought back some focus. And an idea.