The Library: Where Life Checks Out

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The Library: Where Life Checks Out Page 17

by Carmen DeSousa


  He squeezed Ashlyn’s hands, hoping she’d hear him out. “Please forgive me. I should have asked you. But what I think is that your mother may have information. And I’m sorry. That may have been the wrong way of going about getting answers, but it really is the most effective way.”

  Ashlyn sighed loudly. “Okay, Mark. I forgive you, but rule number one if I’m going to marry you is that there will be no interviewing of me or my family members on our personal time.” She crossed her arms and rested them on her belly.

  “Rule number one?” he probed. “How many rules will there be?”

  “You’re doing it again. Just like you did the other day. Stop reading between the lines.”

  Mark scratched his head. “But that wasn’t reading between the lines. Stating a number and a rule denotes that there are more rules to follow.”

  “Ugh!” Ashlyn threw up her hands and started to walk around him. “You’re incorrigible!”

  Mark reached out for her and pulled her back to him carefully. Luckily she didn’t walk too quickly in her current condition. “Okay. Rule number one. I promise not to interrogate you, your mother, or your aunt in our home, but my skills can be very effective when it comes to boys.” He touched her beautiful round belly. “Trust me, you’ll want my skills by the time he reaches five.” Ashlyn dropped her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Ash. I won’t do it again. Do you want me to go apologize?”

  “No. She probably doesn’t even realize what you were doing. She’s just upset over Burke.” She looked up at him. “She really loved him. I don’t have the heart to tell her they’re first cousins. That’ll really screw her up. Luckily, it doesn’t sound as if they did anything. I guess she’d had a plan for a prom-night after-party, though.”

  “Eww…” Mark couldn’t help himself. “I don’t have any cousins, but that just seems too weird.”

  “It’s not like they knew.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  Ashlyn pulled back. “I have to go talk to her.”

  “Yeah.” Mark felt like kicking himself. He could have held off his interrogation until breakfast, and then maybe Ashlyn and he could have had another fun night fooling around like a couple of teenagers.

  Impulsive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Ashlyn leaned against him most of the trip home, but she didn’t speak but a few sentences here and there. He’d been an idiot to think he could interrogate her mother in front of her without her knowing it.

  As Mark entered Edenbury’s city limits, he brushed the hair away from Ashlyn’s face. She’d fallen asleep with her head against his shoulder, and her hair had fallen over her face like a veil hiding her from the outside world. “You awake?”

  She peered up at him with a sleepy-eyed grin. “No. I had the best dream.”

  “Really?” That was good. If she was having a good dream, she couldn’t be too upset with him. “What was it about?”

  Ashlyn sat up and adjusted her clothes, making sure her belly was covered. It amazed him how aware of her belly she was, even though she was pregnant.

  She let out a long sigh and then rested her head against the headrest. “We were somewhere in the Caribbean. The water was the bluest green I’ve ever seen, and we could see fish swimming on the bottom. I was wearing a skimpy string bikini, I had a flat stomach, and my navel was in how it should be.”

  Mark couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of his throat, even though he knew it’d probably enrage her.

  She smacked his shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

  “Actually, it is. I dream of gun battles and ghosts, and you’re upset because you’re dreaming about yourself in a bikini, wondering if you’ll ever wear one again.”

  “That’s a nightmare for a woman, Mark.”

  Mark shook his head. “Ashlyn, you’re going to look awesome—you look great now,” he amended quickly. “You’re young. Your body is going to bounce right back into shape.” He touched her belly. “And even if it doesn’t, you’ll still look great. And I happen to think one-piece suits are sexier anyway. I even like that little skirt you wore over your swimsuit this summer.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s mysterious, makes me wonder what’s beneath the skirt.”

  “Men!” she said, as if exasperated with all men, not just him. “You guys are so ridiculous. You’ve seen women naked a thousand times, and still, every man acts as though there’s something enigmatic between a woman’s legs.”

  “Well, women’s brains are definitely enigmatic.”

  Ashlyn lowered the visor and inspected her face in the mirror. “So, what do we do next?”

  “We?”

  “You said we were going to get a marriage license today…” she paused, looking over at his side of the truck, “but if you changed your mind…”

  He huffed out a breath. “No, I didn’t change my mind, and I know I called in sick, but I do have to do a couple of things at the office when we get back.”

  His beautiful wife-to-be dropped her head and looked up at him beneath her lowered brow with a scowl that’d get most criminals to confess. “You’re kidding, right?” She crossed her arms. “I thought we were going to have a special day.”

  “We are…” He reached for her hand. “I just have a few things to check on with Tim. Matter of fact, I’ll stop by the courthouse and get the papers so we can fill them out at home and then we’ll take them in together.” Mark stopped at a red light and turned to see her lip jutted out in a pout. “I did say we’d sneak away this weekend.”

  “I know. I just thought we’d have a special night.”

  “We will. I’ll drop you off so you can get all dolled up, then I’ll pick you up this afternoon and we’ll do something special.”

  She released a long sigh. “Okay. I could use a nap anyway.”

  Mark laughed. She’d slept almost the entire trip. “Perfect. Your place or mine?”

  “Mine, in case I need my car.”

  Mark took the next left and weaved through Ashlyn’s townhome complex. He parked in front of her single-car garage and turned to her. “So…your place or mine this weekend?”

  “I thought we were going away.”

  He reached over and unbuckled the seatbelt, then gently coaxed her to his side of the truck. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, exposing her slender neck, he touched his lips just below her ear. “We’ll be married this weekend. So I was sort of hoping you might actually want to live with me.”

  “Oh…yes…umm…wow. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Mark moved so that his face was directly in front of hers. He closed his mouth gently on her top lip then her bottom, tugging lightly the way she liked. She opened up to him after a couple of seconds and their tongues moved together in an almost primal dance, as if they could make love merely with a kiss. Mark broke the connection first and worked his way back to her ear. “I’m looking forward to you falling asleep in my arms every night and waking up beside me for as long as we both shall live.”

  “Oh, Mark…” Ashlyn said through a breathy sigh of satisfaction. She lifted her head, giving him better access to her neck. “Wherever you want. God, how did I find you?”

  His lips turned up against her skin in a contented grin. It wasn’t a rehearsed line; he’d meant every word. But he loved that he could cause that reaction in her.

  As much as Mark didn’t want to leave Ashlyn’s side, he knew that he had to. This weekend they’d marry and be together every night. But right now, he needed to check something in his father’s files. Something that the captain had said had been nagging at him.

  Not only did he think he knew who killed Wade Buchanan; he was almost certain he knew why they’d killed Jessica and her mother too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Mark called Tim as he made his way toward the police station. Since it was a few minutes before four, the older detective would still be there. The one thing that man did dutifully was follow his schedule.

  Unless the
y were in the middle of a crime scene, he was like clockwork. He’d clock in at exactly eight a.m., leave for lunch at 11:59, be sitting back behind his desk at 12:59, then at four o’clock on the dot, he’d clock out to go home. If he was out knocking on doors, however, Mark couldn’t trust where he’d end up.

  “Detective Townsend,” his partner answered his office line. If Mark wasn’t mistaken, Tim sounded downright cheerful. Must have had a good lunch. Maybe he met a nice waitress at his favorite diner. He’d dated almost every one of the women who worked there. They never seemed to be upset with him, though, so they must have done the breaking up.

  “Well, you sound chipper,” Mark said. “You must have had a good weekend.”

  Tim laughed, a deep belly laugh, the type that always made Mark smile. “Wife took me back again, and I swear we had the best time. I don’t know how she can be so sweet and funny one minute and then have her claws out the next.”

  He knew why Townsend’s wife bared her claws. Because she gave him everything, but he’d only be content for a few days. So when he started behaving like a tomcat, she probably started treating him as if he were nothing but an animal. Mark held his tongue, though.

  “Wonderful, Tim. So, should I smack you upside the head next time you make googly eyes at some chica?”

  “Yes!”

  “Wow. You’re serious about this. I’m impressed. So, did you get the message I left earlier?”

  “Yep.”

  “And…” Mark said. Tim loved to play games with him whenever he was feeling superior.

  “Just waitin’ on you, man. You back in town yet?”

  “On my way.”

  Once back at the station, Mark searched through the employee records and found what he was looking for. “Bingo!”

  “You were right?” Townsend asked, peering over his shoulder. “You think they know each other?”

  “Yep! Let’s go.”

  Mark drove by an abandoned warehouse then turned down the street that ran behind the library. The shelter served until five o’clock, according to Townsend. So more than likely, they allowed the homeless at least a half an hour to eat. Provided Tim’s info was correct, they were right on time.

  The old man hadn’t been living here. Too many rules. Probably the other reason he came right before they closed, hoping no one would try to reform him when he just wanted to fill his belly.

  The four-story redbrick church was large enough to house many of the homeless, and according to his information, they had several other buildings in the area. The Catholic Church had worked diligently in providing housing and shelter, but sadly, there were still so many homeless people in the area.

  Like Wade Buchanan, Mark imagined that many of the vagrants were homeless for reasons other than drug addiction and lack of employment. Clearly, a percentage of the homeless community was hiding from the law or other citizens. Whether it was for back child support payments owed, a felony warrant, or an abusive spouse or parent, some folks couldn’t take the chance of someone recognizing them.

  Mark parallel parked his unmarked cruiser in front of another car, leaving enough room at the rear of the space that he could get out quickly if someone parked in front of his vehicle.

  Townsend hopped out of the passenger side. “I’ll go around back and meet you on the other side of the building in case he sees you coming.”

  Mark nodded and made his slow way to the front of the building, giving Townsend enough time to get around the structure. At no less than 120-foot wide and 80-foot deep based on the amount of windows, it’d take Townsend a few minutes to make it around the building.

  As Mark held back behind a paper birch, several groups of men and women exited the church. He glanced at each one, not seeing the person he wanted.

  Tim strolled around the opposite end of the building, looking every bit like a cop. Not as much as Mark, but Tim had never made the cut for UC either. And though he didn’t look like it with his increased waistline, the man could run down a suspect if he had to. Not all of them, but he had a sixth sense when it came to knowing which direction the runner would take. He was also a crack shot. As many issues as Townsend had, if Mark had his choice, he’d choose Tim as his backup every time.

  Tim returned a head nod to several of the larger men who passed him. Ex-cons, no doubt. A slight head nod from a civilian meant, I recognize you’re a cop, and I’m cool. When suspicious persons didn’t make eye contact, however, Mark knew to question them.

  The last person to exit was their man. Mark motioned to his partner, and Townsend swiftly closed the distance.

  One look at Townsend, and Wild Bill changed directions, walking almost directly into Mark.

  “Hey, Bill. Where ya goin’?” Mark asked with a smile.

  Bill waved a hand at Mark as though he were waving away a fly and darted off down the side of the building.

  Tim saw and picked up speed, but Mark had already bolted after the man. “Just wanna talk to you, Bill. Don’t make this difficult on yourself.”

  The old man ran a few more yards. But as Mark caught up with him, he whipped around, causing Mark to drop to a squat, drawing his gun. Mark exhaled and stood when he recognized that Bill had just been frustrated.

  “Stupid old man,” Mark shouted. “You know better than to swing around on a cop like that. I might have shot you.”

  Bill shrugged. “What the hell do you want? I told you everything the other day.”

  Townsend jogged up to Mark, doing his best to control his breathing.

  “No, you didn’t. Let’s go.”

  Bill planted his feet firmly in a fighter’s stance, but then crossed his arms. “I ain’t going anywhere unless you have a warrant for my arrest.”

  “I can still arrest you for trespassing, Bill. I have the paperwork; I just didn’t process it.”

  He shrugged again. “Go ahead.”

  Mark knew Wild Bill was beyond intimidating, but he figured it was worth a try. “Buy you a cup of coffee, then?”

  “I don’t have time. I got someplace I need to be.”

  “Need a lift? We’ll talk in the car.”

  The old man huffed out a laugh. “What d’ya want from me, Detective?”

  “A friend of mine said you did him a favor.”

  Bill waved his hand again and turned to walk off.

  Mark trotted after him. “Wesley Burke Jr., you know him?”

  Wild Bill stopped again, crossing his arms a second time, probably to resist throwing a punch. “You’re not dealing with a moron, Detective. Yes, I know the Burkes. Is there a soul in this part of the state who doesn’t? But no, he didn’t tell you I did him any favors.”

  Mark watched carefully as Bill rattled off his words. He was lying, of course. But what could Mark do other than watch his reaction?

  Bill turned to leave again, so Mark made one more attempt. “You were never paid, were you? Because you never found what he wanted, huh?”

  The old man turned around again. “Not that I give a rat’s ass about what you’re trying to pin on me, but where are you getting your information?”

  Mark laughed. “You sound like Captain Davis.”

  Bill narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, and Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He’d hit a nerve.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Mark removed two keys from his ring then handed the set to Tim. “Take the car back to the station, grab the two files in my top drawer and show them to Captain Davis, and then you and he need to meet me back at the library.”

  Townsend raised his hands as though he were confused. “You expect the captain to come without any explanation?”

  “Yes. Just tell him I’ll be at the library, and he’ll come.”

  “And you expect me to leave you alone?”

  Mark sighed. “Yes. There’s something I have to do on my own.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Waters. The homeless community doesn’t have anything to lose, so be careful. Don’t try to take down that guy on your o
wn.”

  A tad insulted, Mark raised an eyebrow at the man who’d done stupid things most of his life. When had Mark ever done anything stupid? Besides hooking up with the dispatcher, that is. Other than that, he’d never done anything irresponsible. In fact, he was too serious most of the time. Before he’d helped solve his father’s murder and met Ashlyn, life had been downright boring. He’d thrown his life into work, helped run his mother’s business, slept, and ate.

  Townsend raised his hands in an apologetic gesture—or maybe it was a self-defense response, thinking Mark might hit him. “Hear me out, Mark. You’ve been acting rather strange lately. I know Ashlyn’s probably moody and all, but trust me…it’s just the hormones. She’ll be right as rain in about six months.”

  “I’m not acting strange,” Mark shot back, but then honed in on Townsend’s words. “Six months? She’ll have the baby in a month.”

  Townsend stepped forward and patted his upper arm with a fatherly tap. “No one mentioned postpartum depression?”

  Mark moved out from underneath his partner’s hand and jogged off. He really didn’t want to take advice from a man whose marriage had failed repeatedly. “I don’t have time for this. Ashlyn and I are fine. I have a murder to solve, and besides, Wild Bill’s not homeless.”

  “What?” Townsend called behind him, but Mark didn’t have time to stop and chat. “Work isn’t your life, Waters. Remember that.”

  Mark waved him off and bolted down the street toward the library. He could have had Tim drop him off. But by the time he’d backtracked to the cruiser, he could have been there. Besides, it allowed him time to think about the situation. Once he found the one missing piece, he was positive the rest of the pieces would fall into place—or come out of the woodwork looking for it perhaps.

  Using his key, Mark let himself inside the library. He was relieved that Jay wasn’t there to meet him outside as she’d done before. He hoped that proved he’d conjured up her image somehow. Maybe he’d seen her face on TV when he was a child and it had been in his subconscious all these years.

 

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