2 Yule Be the Death of Me

by J. D. Shaw

  The genealogy department was walled off with office partitions that could easily be converted to cubicles in a different setting. Here, they simply were arranged around a cluster of four computer terminals that were much less modern than the sleek touch screen at Harriet’s desk. Basic metal shelving was installed where sleeves of data discs were arranged by years and grouped by cemetery. Vivienne set her purse down at the nearest computer and stared at the paper in her hand. Most of the records were located at the Cayuga Union Cemetery, which was not that far from the trailer park where Natalie, Connor, and Eddie called home. The earliest death linked with her search was 1856, but there appeared to be many more associated with the years 1872 and 1873. She decided to start with those discs and see what information she could find.

  After locating and loading the discs into the computer, she scanned through the records. All of the deaths were listed as carbolic acid poisoning, but she saw no mention of hydroxybenzene. Rather than write them all down, she selected a bunch of records and sent them to the printer. She was about to ask Harriet if there had been a mistake when there was the sudden clap of a heavy book hitting the floor nearby. Vivienne nearly jumped out of her chair, turning around to see who had caused the commotion. She expected to see the patron whom she had glimpsed a few minutes earlier, red-faced and apologetic, but the upstairs was quit empty.

  “Are you okay Vivienne?” Harriet called out as she ascended the stairs and appeared at the top of the landing with a rather thick book in her hands.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” Vivienne felt relieved to see Harriet.

  “What’d you drop up here?”

  “It wasn’t me.” Vivienne shook her head and pointed to the fiction area several feet away from them. “It must have been the other person up here.”

  Harriet walked over and set the book down on the table next to Vivienne’s purse with a thud. “Other person?”

  “Yes, someone was up here when I first came up.” Vivienne shrugged. “I only saw them from the corner of my eye.”

  Harriet shook her head. “There’s no one else here but the two of us. It’s been empty all afternoon.”

  “I could have sworn I saw someone else up here.” Vivienne squinted in the dim light.

  Harriet smiled. “It can get a little spooky up here in the late afternoons. Sometimes I think I see people moving amongst the shelves too, but it’s just a trick of the light.”

  Vivienne scratched her chin. “Was whatever fell a trick of the light also?”

  Harriet shook her head. “People shove books back on the shelves in the wrong spots all the time. It was probably just waiting to fall and when you walked up here it finally did.”

  “If you say so.” Vivienne felt a little chill pass through the air.

  “Vivienne Finch, don’t tell me you think it’s a ghost.”

  Vivienne wanted to tell her it was entirely possible, but she knew better than to do that. “Well, I’m guessing probably not.”

  “Now that woman opening that peculiar store downtown, I’d expect her to think that.”

  “You mean Miss Octavia?” Vivienne asked.

  Harriet snapped her thin fingers. “Yes, that’s the one. She looks quite eccentric, but I must confess I found her personality to be quite ebullient.”

  Vivienne smiled knowing how much Harriet enjoyed using uncommon words to describe people and places. There wasn’t a crossword puzzle invented that she couldn’t solve. “Has she been in here recently?”

  “She was, as a matter of fact. Wanted me to locate some books on myths and folklore.” Harriet recalled. “I wasn’t at all surprised at her request.”

  “I had a chance to talk to her and look around her shop. She’s really making it a diamond in the rough, given the location.”

  “Magic and spells, just pure nonsense.” Harriet’s voice sounded like a school teacher correcting a student who completed a report with information from sketchy internet sources. “I don’t know who in their right mind is going to shop at a place that peddles superstitious mumbo jumbo.”

  “Well, you just never know.” Vivienne tried to be diplomatic. “So, you said she was looking for information on folklore. Did she say anything else?”

  Harriet shrugged. “Not that I recall.”

  Vivienne had a feeling it may have been information on werewolf mythology. “Do you think you could locate that book for me too?”

  “I could but I thought you were looking up medical information?” Harriet adjusted her glasses once more as they had slipped down the narrow bridge of her nose.

  “I am, but you just got me thinking about adding in searches about folk remedies for accidental poisonings and such.” Vivienne wished that Kathy could have been there to see how easily the lie had rolled off her tongue.

  “Oh, that’s a clever idea.” Harriet clapped her hands together. “I’ll go down and look it up.”

  Vivienne watched as Harriet pivoted on her flats and hurried away, powered by the lure of chasing information. Seizing the moment, she crept over to the area where she was certain she had seen the other patron. She walked quickly between rows, looking left and right for any sign of the visitor or a fallen book that had made such a racket. She had nearly reached the far corner when another crash erupted from the genealogy area.

  Her heart raced in her chest as she sprinted back hoping to catch the culprit. She nearly collided at the top of the staircase with Harriet, who herself had raced upstairs. “Vivienne, what are you doing up here?”

  “It wasn’t me.” Vivienne protested. “I was over at the other end of the room looking for whatever made the sound the first time.”

  Harriet folded her arms across her chest. “Is this some kind of joke you’re playing?”

  “Harriet, I’d never do something like that to you.”

  Harriet was about to say something else when she pointed to the work stations and gasped. “Look at this mess.” Vivienne’s purse, the medical encyclopedia, several discs, and the chair were haphazardly strewn as if someone had just knocked everything off the table with a sweep of an arm.

  Vivienne hurried over and began to pick up the items when her hand stopped over a book with a green cover and the title ‘Mythology and folklore of early American settlers.’ She quickly shoved it into her purse before Harriet could notice it and raise more questions. “I think it’s some kids in here playing a prank.”

  “What is wrong with kids today?” Harriet spoke softly as she surveyed the scene with a bit of anger. She placed her hands upon her hips and shouted in her best annoyed librarian voice, the kind she reserved for children’s story hour whenever their attention spans waned. “Whoever is doing this is going to get a free ride to the Sheriff’s office tonight.”

  “She’s not joking.” Vivienne added to the threat.

  Harriet shivered suddenly. “Did you feel that? Is a window open up here?”

  Vivienne shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  Harriet turned the chair back upright as Vivienne grabbed her purse and picked up the books and discs from the floor. “I think I’ll close up early tonight.”

  There was another commotion from the lower level. A thud and the sound of paper scattering on the floor. Vivienne sprinted over to the staircase, slightly out of breath as she hit the middle landing.

  “Do you see them?” Harriet called out.

  “No, but the front door is open.” Vivienne called out as she ran down the steps and was careful to avoid slipping on the papers blowing across the carpet as the winter wind blasted into the building. She reached the front entrance and stuck her head out the door. Other than a few cars passing by, not a soul was on the sidewalks as far as she could see. She pulled the door closed as Harriet joined her by the circulation desk. “I’m calling Sheriff Rigsbee about this.”

  Vivienne shook her head. “Whoever it was left in a hurry. We must have finally scared them.”

  “So we should just let these kids get away with it?” Harri
et reached for the phone. “The need to see we’ve done something.”

  “We don’t know who it was.” Vivienne spoke quickly. “Besides, what can we tell them? Neither one of us saw anything to give a physical description.”

  Harriet paused for a moment and put her fingers on her temples. “I don’t know about you, but given what’s happened with those Bad Santa letters going up around here I’m more than a little nervous.”

  “Harriet, it was probably some young kids doing something foolish on a dare.”

  “You think so?” Harriet didn’t sound all to convinced.

  “Now that I think about it, the first time I thought I saw someone up here it looked about kid-sized.” Vivienne lied again.

  Harriet’s face went from fear to anger in a few seconds. “They do like to pull stupid pranks like that.”

  “Exactly.” Vivienne reasoned along with her. “They saw two women in here all alone and decided to have some fun. Kids do stupid things all the time.”

  “Oh, that just burns me up.” Harriet bent over and started plucking the papers off the floor. “They have no respect for anything these days.”

  Vivienne helped her grab the last of the papers. “Are these the records I printed from upstairs?”

  Harriet eyed the ones in her hands quickly. “Yes, everything prints at the front desk. It’s a nickel a copy, but given what’s happened they’re on the house.”

  Vivienne smiled back. “You don’t have to do that.”

  Harriet handed her the papers. “No, let’s just call it a night and close up. I’ll check the encyclopedia out to your library card in the morning.”

  “I’m fine with that.” Vivienne agreed. “Let me get my purse from upstairs and we can go.”

  “I just want to get into my flannel nightgown, and curl up with a good book.” Harriet’s eyes narrowed. “If anyone else is in here, it serves them right to get locked in for the night.”

  Vivienne zipped upstairs, retrieved her purse, and returned slightly out of breath again. “Who needs a gym membership when you work here?” She teased.

  “You’re telling me.” Harriet smiled.

  “Thanks again for all your help, Harriet.” Vivienne waited as she turned off the main light switches, and plunged the library into the dim shadow of dusk. She held the encyclopedia tight in her grip.

  Harriet unlocked a desk drawer with a set of keys from her pants pocket and pulled out her small but sensible purse. “I’m glad you were here, actually. If I was by myself, I would have been scared to death.” She retrieved her winter jacket from a set of wall hooks and slipped it on.

  “Same goes for me.”

  As they walked out the front door, Harriet locked the doors with the keys and buttoned her coat up in the cold wind. “Well, I’ll be keeping a sharp eye on any kids coming into the library from now on I can tell you that.”

  “Drive safe.” Vivienne waved as they parted ways to walk to their cars in the parking lot.

  “You too.” Harriet slid into her little blue compact sedan and started the engine up.

  Vivienne plopped into her Toyota and tossed her purse on the passenger seat. Impersonating a journalist, telling lies to avoid further police involvement, and now book theft. She was certainly racking up the points to a Bad Santa note. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if the next one had her name on it, she thought as she turned the engine over and waited for the heat to blast from the vents.

  CHAPTER 12

  Vivienne scraped the last bits of rice left on the plate from her chicken and broccoli into the trash bin and rinsed it under a stream of warm water from the sink. “So, I managed to convince her not to call you guys after all.” She confided to Joshua who was seated at the kitchen table finishing his cashew chicken.

  “That’s probably a good thing.” He seemed tired and not quite there.

  “Are you feeling okay?” She loaded the plate into the dishwasher rack.

  “Yeah. It’s just all this extra work is taking a toll on everyone at the station.” He brought his plate over to her and kissed her on the back of the neck. “All this food doesn’t help matters.”

  “We haven’t done the fortune cookies yet.” Vivienne reminded him of the little ritual they had started on their first date several months ago.

  “I didn’t see any in the bag.” Joshua leaned forward and nibbled on her left ear. “I thought you pulled them out?”

  “No.” Vivienne pouted as she scraped his plate clean and rinsed it before loading it into the washer and closing the door. “Well, that’s just great.”

  “It’s just a cookie.” He ran his hands along her hips. “No big deal.”

  She whirled around to face him. “We have no fortune.”

  “We don’t need a cookie to tell us what’s going to happen tonight.” He gave her a friendly little growl.

  She put her hands up on his chest. “I’m so full right now and my stomach has been a little off the past few days.”

  “Come lay down with me. I promise you’ll feel a whole lot better.” He reached up and pulled her hands down.

  She let out a little sigh. “If I lay down on the bed I’m going to fall dead asleep.”

  His steel-blue eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.

  “I was going to go onto the internet and do some more research too. Whoever it was in the library today sure seemed interested in what I was doing.”

  Joshua put his right hand over her lips. “I just want to relax with the one person in the whole wide world I most want to be with.”

  Vivienne decided to put off her research until a little later. Joshua looked quite tired and she was sure he’d fall asleep not too long after they had some quiet time together. She nodded and kissed his hand.

  He led her out of the kitchen and up to the bedroom. Tommy danced around excitedly, clawing at the wall register vent which Vivienne called ‘playing the harp’, a strange habit he picked up recently. Joshua hurried him out into the hall and closed the door.

  “He’s going to claw at the door the whole time now.” Vivienne warned.

  “That cat takes my whole side of the bed far too often.” Joshua said as he pulled his shirt over his head and revealed his furry chest.

  Vivienne pulled off her wristwatch and set it on the bedside table. “He’s stubborn.”

  “He’s spoiled.” Joshua stepped out of his trousers and climbed into the flannel bed sheets.

  Vivienne slipped out of her clothes, leaving only her undergarments on as she followed him into the bed. “I take care of my men.” She cooed.

  Joshua reached over and with polished perfection unhooked her bra which he gracefully dropped to the floor as he pulled her close to him. “For which the men in your life are most grateful for.”

  She kissed him on the lips, loving the prickly sensation from his beard as it caressed her cheeks. “You were right. I am feeling better now.”

  He pulled her closer into him, their noses barely an inch apart. “And you said we had no fortune.” He kissed her once more.

  * * *

  A little while later, Vivienne slipped on her comfy white flannel robe and tied the belt at the waist. She stepped into a pair of pink scuff slippers and padded silently out of the bedroom, leaving Joshua to snooze with Tommy whom she allowed to sneak in.

  As she crept into the living room, she stepped on the floor pedal that turned on the tree lights. The soft glow was all she desired, just enough light for her to find her way around the growing mound of wrapped presents that spread further out from the tree skirt each day. She eased herself in front of the computer to conduct a little more research since sleep was furthest from her mind. She was grateful that her business had taken off, but she rarely had late evenings to enjoy the blissful quiet anymore. There were no annoying calls from telemarketers, no unexpected knocks at the door from friends or neighbors. She could explore her curiosity freely without having to justify her reasons to anyone.

  As th
e computer awaited her input, she pulled out the information that she had printed at the library from the desk drawer. It was at that moment she discovered what was missing. In her haste to leave, she had forgotten her yellow notepad back at the circulation desk. “Damn.” She berated herself for leaving such sensitive information behind. She would have to return on Monday to fetch it when the library re-opened.

  She began her search with the medical encyclopedia for hydroxybenzene poisoning and discovered that another more common name for it was carbolic acid. Upon further reading, she discovered it was quite a common item to be found in homes in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Carbolic acid, as it turned out, was used in soaps more often than not. Still, she couldn’t imagine a sudden outbreak of soap-ingestion amongst the population of Cayuga Cove. There had to be another reason why so many had died.

  As the minutes turned into an hour, her eyes began to bother her staring at the bright LCD screen. Despite her best efforts, she had made no further progress on finding a clue to crack the mystery of the flare up in reported cases. Until, she came across a name that rang a bell, Edgar Rothwell.

  She was surprised to see that his wife, Hazel had died on September 22nd 1872 with the listed cause of death as ‘accidental carbolic acid poisoning’. She was thirty-two years old and buried in the Cayuga Union Cemetery two days later. Even more tragic, her children Jacob and Constance, both followed her to the grave less than a week later from accidental carbolic acid poisoning.

  Edgar Rothwell did not pass away until the following December 21st of accidental carbolic acid poisoning, at the age of forty-two, upon which the Rothwell home fell into the hands of distant relatives who stripped it of the most valuable furnishings and left the empty shell to slowly crumble to a ghost of its former glory until the historical society purchased the building at auction in 1973 and had it refurbished.