by Eva Gates
Historic homes and cottages of Nags Head, like the one we’d just—gulp—bought, are known as the unpainted aristocracy for the simple reason that the original cedar shakes are unpainted, the wood allowed to deepen and darken with age so the buildings now blend with the shoreline. The majority of the houses have been passed down through the generations, and each generation has made as little as possible in the way of improvements or modernizations in order to preserve the property’s historic charm. A beloved and important part of Nags Head history and heritage, the majority of them cluster in a group close to town.
“We know that,” I said. “But Connor thinks the work will be manageable.”
Connor had crawled over just about every inch of the house yesterday and decided that the house did, as Ralph had said, have good bones. “It needs a lot of cosmetic work, Lucy, and some updating in the kitchen and bathroom, but the structure is sound,” he’d told me. “Other than that, I wouldn’t want to modernize it much at all. It deserves to be left largely as it is.”
I’d read the glow in his eyes and realized he was already head over heels in love.
“Connor and his dad can do a lot of the work themselves, and what they can’t do or what they don’t have time to do, the price of the house itself is good enough we can afford to hire a contractor.”
“You’ll be close to work and right on the beach,” Charlene said. “I think it’s an excellent choice.”
“Except for the haunting bit,” James said.
“Yes, there is that,” I admitted. “The supposed haunting bit. I’ve spent a lot of time listening to Louise Jane try to convince me the lighthouse is haunted, to no avail, so I’m inclined not to believe anything she says about that. Ralph Harper never married, but he lives with his sister Jo, who’s refused to so much as set foot in the house since she ran out of it one night when she was seventeen years old.”
“Why?” Ronald asked.
“Louise Jane was cagey about that.” So cagey I’d been immediately suspicious. If her aunt Jo had seen an actual ghost, Louise Jane would have delighted in telling me all about it. I suspected a teenage prank gone wrong. “The main reason the house hasn’t sold isn’t because it’s supposedly haunted but because Ralph won’t sell it to just anyone. His grandparents built it, and his parents lived in it until his mother died. Peacefully in her sleep, I might add. It’s never been on the open market, because Ralph doesn’t want casual tourists wandering through. He’s been waiting fifteen years, since his mother’s death, for the right buyer to come along. And, it would seem, Connor and I are the right buyers.”
“When do you move in?” Charlene asked.
“Soon, I hope. Once the water and electricity are connected, we can live in one or two rooms while much of the work’s being done. It’s going to take a long time.”
“Are you happy about this?” Ronald asked.
I thought of Connor’s beaming dust- and spider-web-covered face as he finished his inspection. Ralph Harper’s kind eyes as he told me he wanted me to live in the house his grandparents had built. The sound of the surf at my door, the scent of salt in my hair, the cry of gulls circling overhead, the quiet creak of old floorboards.
“Yes. I am. It’s perfect. It’s time for me to leave the Lighthouse Aerie and start my new life, and I can’t think of a better place in which to do that.”
“Good afternoon, all!” Theodore joined us. “I hear you had some excitement recently, Lucy.” Ronald hurried to lock the door behind the new arrival before anyone else could wander in.
“Connor and I have put an offer in on a house,” I said.
“You did? That’s all fine and good, but I meant excitement of a criminal nature.”
“Oh yes, that. The police made an arrest in the death of Rich Lewiston.”
“Glad to hear it. We can all rest easier tonight knowing Nags Head’s finest are up to the job.”
“With Lucy’s help, as usual,” Charlene said.
Theodore tilted his head to one side. I sucked in a breath. I know Teddy well, but I’d never before quite noticed the shape of his eyes, the smaller-than-average teeth, the plump lips … the full head of hair.
And I understood. Evangeline hadn’t been reacting to James when she saw him the first time but to Theodore, who’d come in with the group. Theodore’s as much a feature of the library as the table in the alcove and the books on the shelves, so I hadn’t even considered that seeing him was what had so shocked Evangeline. She’d reacted much the same way at book club, when James hadn’t been there. Theodore had.
I’ve met Mrs. Kowalski, Theodore’s mother, but I’d never heard mention of a Mr. Kowalski. I’d simply assumed he was dead or Theodore’s parents were long divorced.
I remembered back to the night Mom and I waited at the police station with Evangeline. I’d tried to question Evangeline as to what she knew about James Dalrymple, but she’d turned the conversation to Theodore. At the time I thought it a clever diversion, but it wasn’t that at all. What had she said about Theodore? She was surprised he’d be able to afford to make a substantial contribution to the library restoration fund. The only way she’d know that would be if she had some knowledge of his financial situation.
Which meant she not only knew of him, but she knew many of the details of his life.
Theodore Kowalski was Rich Lewiston’s son.
“Lucy?” He peered intently at me. “Is something wrong?”
I mentally shook my head. Then I physically shook it. “Wrong? No, nothing at all. It’s nice to see you this afternoon, Theodore.”
“Okay. If you’re sure. It’s nice to see you too, Lucy.”
“Although we are closed,” Ronald pointed out.
“I just popped in for a book. Won’t take long. Don’t mind me. What’s going to happen to your apartment when you move, Lucy?”
“Speaking of the Lighthouse Aerie.” Bertie’s head popped around the corner. “My office please. Lucy, Charlene, Ronald.”
James gave Charlene’s shoulder a light squeeze, and she smiled at him. “I’ll wait out here,” he said.
Theodore went in search of the book he was after.
Ronald and I fell into step behind Charlene. “Do you know what this is about, Lucy?” he whispered to me.
“I know some of it, but I suspect not all,” I replied. That Louise Jane had spent so long in Bertie’s office, behind closed doors, had to mean something.
Louise Jane nodded at us as we came in, her face folded into serious lines. She couldn’t quite hide the twinkle in her eyes or the air of self-satisfaction that hung over her. I gave her a questioning look, and she turned away from me, the edges of her mouth curling up. Charles perched on top of the filing cabinet. He, on the other hand, didn’t look at all pleased. Charles doesn’t care for change.
“Lucy,” Bertie said, as she settled herself behind her desk. “Did your mother get away all right?”
“Yes, thanks.” I’d gone to Aunt Ellen’s this morning to say good-bye. Mom and Evangeline had hired a limo to take them to the airport, where they’d meet Rich’s body for the flight home. I’d taken Fluffy with me, and she’d be on the plane with Evangeline and Mom. To my surprise, I’d been sorry to see Fluffy go. I’d grown fond of the little thing. Maybe once we were settled, Connor and I could get a dog. As Fluffy and I walked out of the lighthouse, I’d turned back to see Charles watching us. I swear, he might have lifted one paw in farewell to his new friend.
I hadn’t spoken to Evangeline, and that suited me perfectly well. Ricky had left on Sunday, in answer to Dad’s summons. He hadn’t called me to say good-bye.
Bertie cleared her throat. She announced what I already knew: Charlene had handed in her resignation in order to take up a new position at Oxford University. Ronald hugged her and wished her the best, and I joined in. When we separated, Charlene wiped tears from her eyes.
“As for Charlene’s position here,” Bertie said, “she will be almost impossible to replace, but I think we�
�ve hit on a good solution. Charlene?”
“My friend Denise Robarts works at North Carolina at Chapel Hill,” Charlene said. “She’s an Outer Banks girl, and she’s past sixty. She’s been wanting to retire and move back to Nags Head, but she loves her job and is worried about keeping herself busy. She’s a widow and her children live in Manhattan, which she detests. I’ve convinced her to work part-time here. She gets to come back to the Outer Banks, she keeps working, and she can ease into her retirement at her own pace.”
“That sounds like a good fit,” Ronald said. “But you’re always so busy, Charlene. Will a part-timer be enough?”
Louise Jane shifted in her seat.
“I’ve decided,” Bertie said, “to split the job of academic librarian into two. Denise will do the archiving and most of the work with our own rare documents and those we get on loan. The actual interaction with visiting scholars and researchers, and searching secondary sources, will be the job of—” She cleared her throat.
“Me!” Louise Jane couldn’t contain herself any longer, and she leapt out of her chair, punching her fists into the air. “Me! I’m going to be the new academic librarian assistant. You won’t regret this, Bertie, I promise you that.” She grabbed Ronald’s hands and pumped them. “I start tomorrow so Charlene has time to show me some of the ropes.” She dropped Ronald’s hands and lunged at me. She wrapped me in a hug so tight it brought back the uncomfortable memory of being strangled by Stephen Livingstone. “We’re going to be colleagues, Lucy! Isn’t that wonderful? Now, don’t worry about a thing. I’m starting work tomorrow, but I’ll wait until you move out before I move in.”
“Move in?” I asked.
“To the Lighthouse Aerie! At last! You won’t mind if I run up now and measure the space, do you?”
Charles put his paws over his eyes.
I briefly considered putting my paws over my own eyes, but instead I threw my hands into the air. “That is so great. You love this place, Louise Jane, and it’s a perfect fit. Like the members of the unpainted aristocracy, the Lighthouse Aerie needs to be lived in.”
“You think so, Lucy?” she said.
“I do. I do.” Louise Jane truly loved the library, and the library, I believed, loved her in return. If she wanted to tiptoe around at night, hunting for ghosts, what was the harm? Bertie and our new librarian, Denise, would make sure she didn’t confuse fact and legend in her job.
As for me … time to move on. I loved living in the Lighthouse Aerie, but I’d always known it wouldn’t be forever. Connor and I had an exciting future waiting for us in our new house, and I couldn’t wait to get it started.
Even if I had to learn how to wield a hammer.
Author’s Note
The Bodie Island Lighthouse is a real historic lighthouse, located in Cape Hatteras National Seashore on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It is still a working lighthouse, protecting ships from the Graveyard of the Atlantic, and the public is invited to tour it and climb the 214 steps to the top. The view from up there is well worth the trip. But the lighthouse does not contain a library, nor is it large enough to house a collection of books, offices, staff rooms, two staircases, and even an apartment.
Within these books, the interior of the lighthouse is the product of my imagination. I like to think of it as my version of the TARDIS, from the TV show Doctor Who, or Hermione Granger’s beaded handbag: far larger inside than it appears from the outside.
I hope it is large enough for your imagination also.
Also available by Eva Gates
Lighthouse Library Mysteries
A Death Long Overdue
Read and Buried
Something Read, Something Dead
The Spook in the Stacks
Reading Up a Storm
Booked for Trouble
By Book or By Crook
Writing as Vicki Delany
Sherlock Holmes Bookshop Mysteries
A Curious Incident
There’s a Murder Afoot
A Scandal in Scarlet
The Cat of Baskervilles
Body on Baker Street
Elementary, She Read
Year-Round Christmas Mysteries
Dying in a Winter Wonderland
Silent Night, Deadly Night
Hark the Herald Angels Slay
We Wish You a Murderous Christmas
Rest Ye Murdered Gentlemen
Ashley Grant Mysteries
Coral Reef Views
Blue Water Hues
White Sand Blues
Constable Molly Smith Mysteries
Unreasonable Doubt
Under Cold Stone
A Cold White Sun
Among the Departed
Negative Image
Winter of Secrets
Valley of the Lost
In the Shadow of the Glacier
Klondike Gold Rush Mysteries
Gold Web
Gold Mountain
Gold Fever
Gold Digger
Tea by the Sea Mysteries
Tea & Treachery
Also Available by Vicki Delany
More Than Sorrow
Murder at Lost Dog Lake
Burden of Memory
Scare the Light Away
Whiteout
Author Biography
Eva Gates is a national bestselling author who began her writing career as a Sunday writer: a single mother of three high-spirited daughters, with a full-time job as a computer programmer. Now she has more than twenty novels under her belt in the mystery genre, published under the name Vicki Delany. She lives in Ontario. This is her eighth Lighthouse Library mystery
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Vicki Delany
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crooked Lane Books, an imprint of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.
Crooked Lane Books and its logo are trademarks of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.
Library of Congress Catalog-in-Publication data available upon request.
ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-64385-588-2
ISBN (ebook): 978-1-64385-589-9
Cover illustration by Joe Burleson
Printed in the United States.
www.crookedlanebooks.com
Crooked Lane Books
34 West 27th St., 10th Floor
New York, NY 10001
First Edition: May 2021
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Author’s Note
Ad Card
Author Biography
Copyright
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