A Likely Story: A Library Lover's Mystery

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Kirkland, head back to the town dock and bring the ME out as soon as he arrives,” she said.

  “You sure you don’t want backup?” Kirkland asked.

  Emma gave him a closed-lip smile. “Don’t worry. You can examine the scene with the ME when you come back out.”

  Kirkland nodded, but Lindsey could tell he was disappointed.

  Sully gave the boat a shove, and Kirkland headed back to shore. Emma turned to face them. Her eyes narrowed as she studied them with concern in her warm brown gaze.

  “Sully, Lindsey,” she said. “How are you, all right?”

  “We’re fine,” Lindsey said. She glanced at Sully, and he nodded.

  “Can you tell me exactly what you found?” Emma asked.

  “Wouldn’t you rather I showed you?” Sully said.

  “No, I want to keep the foot traffic up there to a minimum,” Emma said. “Until we know what we’re dealing with, exactly.”

  She didn’t say that it could be murder. She didn’t have to. A gaping hole, probably caused by a bullet to the chest, usually only meant one thing. Lindsey felt her anxiety spike.

  Where was Stewart? Was he in the house somewhere? Had he been shot, too? Had it been a break-in? Should they have stayed to look for him? The whole thing had been so shocking she didn’t know what to think or do or say.

  She let Sully do the talking. He warned Emma about the middle step on the stairs and the traps they had already found. He then described the state of the house and how they had found Peter. Emma listened without interrupting. She then looked at Lindsey.

  “Can you think of anything else?” she asked.

  “No.” Lindsey shook her head. “That covers it.”

  “Okay, then, look out for the middle step, and check all of the doorways and the flooring,” Emma said. She shouldered her bag and began to walk away. At the stairs, she turned back around and said, “Sully, when Kirkland gets back, you two can leave, but I’d like you to stay for now and keep an eye on things here.”

  “No problem,” Sully said. “Shout if you need me.”

  Emma waved and jogged up the stairs to the deck above. Lindsey wondered what the police chief would make of all the clutter. She turned to say as much to Sully but then paused. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before.

  She grabbed Sully’s arm, and he glanced from the deck where he was watching Emma’s progress to Lindsey.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I think I’d prefer it,” she said. She pointed to the end of the dock. “Is it just me or was Stewart’s boat tied up here when we arrived?”

  Sully whipped his head around. “It’s not you. His boat was here.”

  He walked over to examine the metal tie-downs. He squatted down and reached into the water. He pulled up a length of rope still knotted to the metal bracket on the dock. It was short and cleanly severed as if it had been cut. Whoever had left on Stewart’s boat, they had been in too much of a hurry to untie the boat properly.

  Sully dropped the rope and shook the water off of his fingers. He stuffed his hand in his pocket in an attempt to warm up.

  “He must have been here,” Lindsey said. “Why would he leave?”

  “I don’t know,” Sully said. His voice was grim.

  Neither of them voiced the obvious conclusion that Stewart had left because he shot his brother. Lindsey wouldn’t say it because she just didn’t believe it.

  “I don’t think Stewart has ever left the island in daylight before. As I mentioned, he generally only goes out at night,” Sully said.

  “How does he get all of that stuff up there by himself?”

  “No idea,” he said. “But I suspect there is a lot we do not know about the Rosen house.”

  “I know Emma told us to stay here, but if Stewart, or whoever, just left, there’s a chance we could spot them somewhere in the islands if we take the taxi out,” Lindsey said.

  Sully stood and took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call it in to Emma. I don’t want to leave her here alone without letting her know why.”

  He scrolled through the contacts in his phone and then pressed the display before putting it up to his ear. He was staring at the house as if willing Emma to pick up. After several seconds, he ended the call with a frown.

  “It went to her voice mail,” he said.

  “Maybe she’s on another call,” Lindsey said.

  “Or she’s in trou—”

  BOOM!

  The sound of an explosion cut off Sully’s words and made them both jump. The dock rocked beneath their feet, and Lindsey flailed her arms in an effort to regain her balance. Sully reached out a hand to steady her, and she grabbed his arm.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  “It came from the house,” she said.

  “Are you good?”

  Lindsey nodded, and he let her go. He sprinted for the stairs, and she was right behind him. As they reached the upper deck, they saw smoke billowing out of one of the second-story windows.

  “Emma!” Lindsey cried and she pushed around Sully to race into the house.

  Sully caught her around the waist and held her back. Lindsey struggled, but it was useless.

  “Lindsey, stop!” he ordered. “You can’t go racing in there. Who knows what has been triggered. There could be more explosions.”

  “But Emma,” Lindsey protested.

  “I know, but we have to go in carefully,” he said. “Just like we did before, step where I step. Ready?”

  Lindsey nodded, and he let her go. He hurried up the walkway, scanning back and forth as he went. Lindsey felt numb as she stumbled along behind him. It was too much, first finding Peter and now knowing Emma was in trouble. She didn’t think she could bear it if this went as badly as she feared.

  They moved swiftly as they retraced their steps. Whatever had exploded, it seemed to be coming from upstairs. They entered the house, and Sully veered right to the staircase that led upstairs. He hurriedly checked that there were no traps on the stairs. Lindsey didn’t see how there could be, since the stairs were jam-packed with more boxes, books and clothes, leaving a very narrow path against the wall to ascend.

  “Emma!” Sully called out as they made their way up. “We’re on our way!”

  Lindsey thought she heard a moan, and she hoped with all that she had that it was their police chief and that she was okay. At the top of the steps, Sully paused. Lindsey glanced around his shoulders and felt her jaw drop. The small landing looked like it had been hit by an earthquake.

  “Here! I’m over here!”

  Sully moved cautiously forward, trying to pick his way through the mess without causing more damage or setting off any nasty surprises. Lindsey shadowed him.

  Emma was on the floor in the doorway to one of the bedrooms. She was pinned facedown under a white wrought iron table. It looked as if she’d been trying to pull herself free. She glanced over her shoulder at them and pointed into the bedroom.

  “Fire first!” she croaked.

  Sully stripped off his jacket as he stepped over Emma and into the room. Several boxes were on fire, and he began to beat the flames out with his coat.

  Lindsey knelt beside Emma. “If I lift the table, can you pull yourself out?”

  “It’s too heavy,” Emma protested.

  “Let’s try anyway,” Lindsey said.

  She moved back to where the tabletop had Emma trapped. She tried to get a grip on the table, but the cascade of slippery magazines beneath her feet made it impossible to attain any leverage. She kicked the heap out of the way. Squatting down, she grabbed the table edge and said, “On three. One, two, three.”

  Lindsey heaved with all her strength. The table was a backbreaker, and she gritted her teeth as she lifted. Emma pulled hersel
f out just as Lindsey was losing strength.

  “I’m clear!” Emma cried, and Lindsey lowered the table.

  She glanced at Emma’s face and saw beads of sweat on her lip and brow. She glanced down at Emma’s leg. Her pants looked tight, as if they were about to burst at the shin, and her foot dangled limply. It was clearly broken, and Lindsey could only imagine the amount of pain Emma was in.

  The flames of the fire were reduced, but Sully was still fighting it. Lindsey knew she couldn’t carry Emma down the stairs. Sully had to be the one to do it, but the fire had to be controlled, too.

  She stepped carefully into the room in the tiny space available and noted that a window had been smashed wide open, probably by the explosion. She moved in beside Sully and took one of the old suitcases that was on fire and tossed it out the window. Sully looked at her in surprise, then he followed her lead. Together they threw out anything in the room that was on fire or smoking, and in minutes, the flames were gone and the smoke dissipated.

  “Good thinking,” he said. His chest was heaving, and he was covered in soot and ash. Lindsey knew she looked the same.

  “Emma’s leg is broken,” she said, sucking in some of the clean air by the window. “Can you carry her down?”

  “On it.” Sully handed Lindsey his charred coat as he dashed back to Emma.

  To her credit, Emma only cried out once when Sully lifted her into his arms. Lindsey knew that Emma had to be about to black out from the pain. Once outside, Sully put her down on the porch. Lindsey called the station requesting medical attention for Emma while Sully hustled out to the front yard and very carefully stamped out the fires from the items they had tossed through the window.

  They were just settling in to wait when Officer Kirkland and the medical examiner, Dr. Griffiths, appeared on the upper deck above the dock.

  “Chief!” Officer Kirkland broke into a run. “What happened?”

  “Stupidity,” Emma answered on a groan.

  Before Kirkland could hit the steps, Sully grabbed him.

  “Stop!” Sully said. “The middle step is rigged. You’ll break your leg or worse.”

  “What?” Kirkland tried to shake him off.

  “Listen to him,” Emma said. “I should have.”

  Kirkland stopped struggling and looked questioningly at Sully.

  “The Rosen brothers discouraged visitors by booby-trapping the property. Traps are everywhere.” Sully pointed to the open front door, and they all glanced at the board with the nails still hanging low in the doorway.

  “Whoa,” Kirkland said.

  Dr. Griffiths moved passed him, stepped over the rigged stair and knelt beside Emma. His long gray coat spread out about him, and he pulled off his leather gloves and shoved them into his pockets. Both his gray mustache and his gray fringe were ruffled, clearly signifying his agitation.

  “Just the leg?” Griffiths asked as he opened his bag and pulled out some scissors.

  “That’s not enough?” Emma returned. “Aw, man, do you really have to cut the pants? They’re new.”

  Lindsey glanced at Emma’s face. It was pasty pale and coated with a sheen of sweat that dampened the hair at her temples despite the frigid air.

  “Yes, I do, and be thankful that’s all I’m cutting. If you were one of my cases, I’d be splitting your abdomen and weighing your intestines,” Dr. Griffiths said.

  “Comforting,” Emma grunted. “Your bedside manner is top-notch, really.”

  “And now you know why I’m the medical examiner and not a general practitioner,” Dr. Griffiths said. He put his scissors back in his bag and moved aside the cut fabric. He ran his fingers over the large knot on Emma’s shin. “Looks like you have a closed fracture of the tibia. With any luck, it’s also incomplete, meaning cracked and not snapped in two.”

  While he was talking, Emma took out her phone and started texting.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, is my diagnosis interrupting you?” Dr. Griffiths asked.

  Emma gave him a dark look, which he matched. “I’m texting for backup to help investigate the scene with you since clearly I’m out of commission.”

  Lindsey noted that she sounded completely put out by this.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Dr. Griffiths asked.

  “Fracture, tibia, blah, blah, blah,” Emma said. She was in full-on pout now, which was pretty impressive given the amount of pain she had to be in.

  “Here,” Sully said. He had been carefully inspecting the porch while they talked, and he handed a short, flat board to Dr. Griffiths. “We’ll need to brace her leg until we get her to the ambulance that’s meeting us on the pier.”

  “This will do,” Dr. Griffiths said. He opened his bag again and pulled out a pack of bandages. While he worked on her leg, Emma addressed Sully.

  “Officer Kirkland can bring me to shore and pick up Detective Trimble on the way back. Will you stay with Griffiths until Kirkland returns?”

  “Sure, no problem,” Sully said.

  “Griffiths, you don’t go anywhere, not one step, unless Sully gives you the okay,” she said. “Am I clear?”

  “Careful, Chief Plewicki, or I’m going to think you care,” he said.

  “Don’t get crazy,” she said. He tightened the bandage that held her leg to the board, and she visibly paled. “It’s just hard to find decent medical examiners these days.”

  “Piss and vinegar, that’s what you’re made of, Chief,” Griffiths said with a chuckle. He looked at Sully and Kirkland. “I’m going to need you two to carry her down to the boat and get her settled.”

  Sully and Kirkland moved to stand on either side of Emma. She raised her arms, and they hauled her up, balancing her weight between them. Dr. Griffiths and Lindsey followed. It was slow moving to get Emma down the steps, and the rocking motion of the dock made it that much trickier for Sully and Kirkland to support her between them.

  Lindsey hurried ahead to hold the boat steady while the men lowered Emma onto one of the seats. Once she was settled, Kirkland assumed the controls, and Sully gave the boat a shove in the right direction.

  “Keep the leg up!” Griffiths yelled over the sound of the motor, and Emma gave him a thumbs-up.

  “She’s not going to listen to me,” Griffiths muttered.

  “Nope,” Sully agreed.

  “Which is why I prefer to work with the departed,” Griffiths said. “They seldom talk back.”

  Once they were back up at the house, both Sully and Griffiths refused to let Lindsey enter the house with them. It was deemed too dangerous, so she reluctantly waited out in the cold on the porch. She took the opportunity to check in at the library. Given that she had been due back an hour ago, she knew Beth and the others had to be wondering what had kept her.

  She took out her phone and discovered she’d missed two calls and three text messages. She always kept her cell phone volume off in the library because of the noise, but it meant she usually didn’t catch her calls and texts until she went to use her phone. She glanced at the messages. They were all from Beth, and they got increasingly frantic. Lindsey felt badly about worrying her friend, but really, there had been no time to check in.

  She opened her contacts and selected Beth, who answered on the first ring.

  “Where have you been? What is going on? We just saw Emma Plewicki being loaded into an ambulance and then Detective Trimble arrived and took off in a boat with Officer Kirkland. Explain!”

  In a town the size of Briar Creek, Lindsey knew keeping things quiet was a doomed objective from the start. But still, they didn’t know exactly what had happened in the Rosen house, so she figured it was best if she just stuck to the facts, no details.

  “When Sully and I arrived on the island, no one was there to meet us, so we went up to the house,” she said.

  “That’s odd,” Beth said. “Stewart is always wait
ing for you.”

  “I know. And it gets worse,” Lindsey said. “When no one answered the door, we went in and discovered Peter Rosen in the kitchen, deceased.”

  “Oh no!” Beth wailed. “How is Stewart taking it? This has to be horrible for him. For as long as I’ve lived and worked here, the Rosen brothers have only had each other.”

  “Well, there’s no sign of Stewart,” Lindsey said. She thought about his boat being at the dock and then disappearing, but she didn’t mention it.

  “Oh well, he is a recluse. Maybe he is just processing all that has happened. Still, that doesn’t explain Emma in the ambulance,” Beth said. “What happened?”

  “When Emma arrived, she went into the house on her own to investigate and set off one of the booby traps, which caused a small explosion and toppled a table onto her leg, which is now broken.”

  “How awful!” Beth hissed a breath through her teeth.

  “It was pretty bad, but Dr. Griffiths thinks it might just be cracked and not broken all the way through,” Lindsey said.

  “That’s so strange about Stewart,” Beth said. “I mean, he’s been taking care of his brother for fifty years. Oh dear, do you think the grief was too much for him? You don’t think he did himself any harm, do you?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think so,” Lindsey said. Her shoulders sagged as she thought about it. The stress of the day was beginning to feel overwhelming. “Listen, don’t say anything to anyone about Stewart. I don’t know how much Emma wants everyone to know.”

  “Got it,” Beth said. “Is it okay if I mention that Peter Rosen has passed on? I mean, that’s going to be hard to keep quiet with the ME out there and all.”

  “Yeah, I think that’s okay,” Lindsey said. She realized she hadn’t told Beth how Peter had died and thought that was probably best kept quiet as well.

  “How are you?” Beth asked. “You weren’t the one to find him, were you?”

  “Sully actually spotted him first,” Lindsey said.

  “I’m glad he was with you,” Beth said.

  “Me, too,” Lindsey said. She glanced at the house, realizing how much she meant it. She couldn’t imagine being here and dealing with all of this without Sully.