Murder in the First Edition

by Lauren Elliott

  He tilted his head. One corner of his mouth twitched. “Give me more credit than that, will you?”

  “I know you, Jonathan.”

  He leaned over the counter, fixing his steel-gray eyes on hers. “Do you?”

  She crossed her arms and nodded. “I just saw it with my own eyes.”

  He straightened and pulled on his other glove. “Don’t worry about Catherine. I’m pretty sure she’s a big girl and capable of making her own decisions.” His brow rose, and he smirked. “I have a lunch date, so if you’ll excuse me.”

  “I’m warning you. Stay away from her, please. For me. I don’t want to have to clean up another mess in the wake of your visit.”

  To her surprise, he smiled just a little, revealing a suggestion of dimples in both his cheeks. Addie wavered. Everything about his features reminded her of David, from the set of his jaw to his magnetic gray eyes and the way he held his head. David had looked exactly like a younger version of him.

  “Don’t worry,” his throaty voice softening, “I’m not about to go chasing down the street after Catherine. My luncheon is with an old friend who lives in Greyborne Harbor now.”

  “Who’s that? Another friend of mine I’ll have to warn about becoming involved with you?” She searched his face for a moment. “Although, if she knew you before, I’m pretty sure she knows what you’re all about.”

  His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischievousness. “She does, don’t worry. Teresa Lang is very familiar with my ways.”

  “Teresa Lang.” Her eyes flashed.

  His lips turned up at the corners.

  “You don’t mean the same Teresa who’s the Charity Fund-raising Coordinator for the Hospital Foundation, do you?”

  “Yes, why, do you know her?”

  “I have an appointment with her today after lunch about the Christmas Charity Auction.”

  “Then you’d better not plan on her being there until at least mid-afternoon. You know, in case our lunch date goes as per usual.” He gave her a sly wink and then added, “Merry Christmas.” The door closed behind him, the bells seemingly singing with joy at his departure.

  Chapter 2

  Addie settled onto a chair behind the desk in the back room, slid an antique letter opener along the edge of the manila envelope, and envisioned it was Jonathan’s black heart. A low growl escaped her throat. Hoping for happy news to distract her, she blew a wayward strand of honey-brown hair from her eyes, slid the enclosed papers out, and grinned. At last, it was the final report from her old coworker Kate at the Boston Library. The appraisal for Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol and the last thing Addie needed for the auction. Apparently, a certificate of authentication trumped her skilled knowledge of antique books.

  The book itself had since been returned, but for the auction, Addie needed this current market report and Kate’s certificate so the foundation could make as much money as possible from its sale. The report contained one surprise, but otherwise it was exactly as she thought it would be. Addie was pleased to see that she really hadn’t lost her touch. It was only too bad that she’d allowed her appraisers’ association membership to lapse. It wasn’t a requirement for appraisers to belong, but a member’s number on the documents added considerable credibility to an appraisal. Nonetheless, it was done now, and Teresa Lang would be more than pleased with the results.

  When Addie discovered the 1843 first edition book tucked in a box of Christmas decorations in her aunt’s attic, she knew then it was special. She was a little confused at the time as to why her aunt stored it in there, but knowing she was eccentric and did love hiding things, Addie shrugged it off. When she heard about the desperate need for donations this year to the annual Christmas Charity Auction fund-raiser, she decided, why not? It was perfect for the season and might bring in more money for the auction just because of that. Well, if truth were known, it took a little bit of persuading by her good friend the coroner, Dr. Simon Emerson, but once she’d offered it up as a donation, she had no regrets. As Simon had pointed out, Dickens himself was actively involved in social issues his entire life, so it seemed like the right thing to do.

  She glanced at her phone clock and entered Serena’s number, tapping her pen on the desk, waiting for her friend to answer. “Hey, where are you, we have to get moving. We have to meet Teresa at one.”

  “I’m on my way.” Serena’s voice echoed through the speaker.

  Addie held the phone away from her ear and looked at it. “Are you in a tunnel?”

  “No.” Serena’s whispered voice reverberated around her. “I’m right behind you.”

  “Ah!” Addie jumped in her seat when Serena placed her hand on her shoulder. “You nearly scared me to death.” Wide-eyed, she shut her phone off and tugged playfully on a handful of her friend’s red hair.

  “My, my, aren’t we jumpy today. Have you been reading ghost stories again?” Serena smirked, pulling away, and leaned on the edge of the desk.

  “No, but a ghost of my past has come to pay a visit.” Addie slid the documents into the envelope and waved off Serena’s look of concern. “It’s not that serious, really. David’s father blew into town this morning for one of his quickie visits.” She pulled on her coat, grabbed her purse and the envelope from the desk.

  “I didn’t know you and Philip Armstrong were still in touch, after the rocky relationship he had with David when he didn’t take the teaching position at the university that Philip arranged for him,” Serena said, following Addie out the door into the shop.

  “No, it wasn’t Philip who dropped in. It was Jonathan Hemingway, David’s natural father.”

  “But I thought you liked him?”

  Addie stopped and smiled at a customer over the top of Serena’s head. “I do.” Her voice dropped. “I do, basically. I don’t like his lifestyle, but deep down, he’s a good guy. I think. He has to be. After all, he’s David’s father, and David was a great guy.”

  “So, what’s the problem? He dropped in before the holidays. You should be happy. He’s probably missing David as much as you are, especially at this time of year. I can’t wait to meet him.” Serena swept past her toward the front door.

  “You’re not going to meet him.”

  Serena skidded to a halt. “Why not? Are you ashamed of your best friend?”

  “Of course not.” Addie grabbed Serena’s coat sleeve. “He dropped in for one of his usual flyby visits and is off again, and—”

  “And what?”

  “And it kind of hurts, especially since I was on my own for Thanksgiving.” Her eyes cast downward. “When I saw Jonathan, I was hoping just a teeny-tiny bit”—she squeezed her pointer finger and thumb together—“that he was here for Christmas.”

  Serena placed her arm around Addie’s shoulders. “You weren’t exactly alone on Thanksgiving. You were with your new family here.”

  “You’re right. It was a wonderful day and nice to be surrounded by such great people. Between you and Zach, Simon and his sister Carolyn’s crew, it really was a special dinner.” She took a deep breath and pressed her lips tight.

  “If it was so great, why such a glum look, then?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it’s just the time of the year, and I’m missing my real family and David and, well, having Jonathan here would have helped. After all, he is the last connection I have to David, and I guess I don’t want to lose that. But on the other hand he never was much of a family man, anyway, and after this morning, when he made me so mad . . . I think I really blew it. I doubt we’ll ever be close now.”

  “No matter what happened this morning, he’s still part of your family, and any issues can be worked out, just like in other families. You’ll see. Remember that you both have to learn now how to have a relationship without David around. Just give it time.”

  Addie’s eyes scanned the store on the lookout for listening ears. “Yes, but I don’t know if I can because he hasn’t changed in all the years I’ve known him. In the few minutes he was he
re, he managed to turn poor, innocent Catherine into a swooning teenage girl. Yeah”—she let out a deep breath—“it’s for the best that he’s gone. If he stayed, he’d only end up hurting her and ruining my Christmas, too.”

  Serena shrugged. “If he’s gone, there’s no harm done, and maybe Catherine enjoyed the attention, even though fleeting.”

  “By her reaction, I’m pretty sure she did enjoy it, although I think his overt displays of affection toward her scared the heck out of her. But the whole thing, his visit, his interest in her, was all too contrived on Jonathan’s part for my liking. I get the feeling he’s up to something.”

  “Like what? No one’s died lately. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped treating everyone as a suspect in some sinister plot.”

  “You’re right,” Addie said. “I guess I can take off my certified amateur sleuth hat. It’s just that, well . . . after my father died, and I found out that he had broken Catherine’s heart years ago, I somehow feel I have to watch out for her. That means keeping her out of the grips of the renowned silver-haired fox, and I threw her right in his path.”

  “You did no such thing. You didn’t ring her up and invite her over to meet him, did you?”

  Addie shook her head.

  “There you go. As usual, you’re overthinking again. Catherine’s a big girl. Now let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

  “You’re right. It’s just that it was that same behavior on his part that broke up his marriage to David’s mother in the first place, and I guess there’s some things I find hard to get past. But if I’m going to have any future dealings with Jonathan, I’ll have to learn to accept him for what he is because David eventually did.”

  “Yes, you do, but I’m sensing there’s something more to all this, isn’t there?” Serena stood with her hand on the doorknob, studying her friend.

  “You can read me so well.”

  “Spill.”

  “It’s just that every time I look into Jonathan’s face since David’s murder, all I see is David reflecting back at me, and it’s—”

  “Haunting? Is that the word?”

  Addie pressed her lips tight and nodded. She waved at Paige over her shoulder as they stepped out into the cool afternoon air. “Where’s your box of donations?” Addie looked at Serena. “I thought that’s why you were going over to the hospital with me.”

  “In my car. I thought we could drive over. I really don’t feel like slogging through the snow. The box is really heavy.”

  “A large donation, is it? Well, aren’t you the philanthropic donor?” Addie laughed, then opened the passenger door and slid in.

  “Not really.” Serena plopped into the driver’s seat of her older model Jeep Wrangler. “I usually do up a large gift basket filled with teas, a teapot, cups, strainer, and other small stuff for the auction every year. People seem to like bidding on it, and it’s good advertising, and besides, the money goes to a good cause.”

  “Yeah, there’s no better cause than being able to help the hospital upgrade the pediatric wing.” Addie smiled and checked her reflection in the sun visor mirror. “I just hope my donation brings in at least what the appraised value is.”

  “So that means you got the appraisal back?” Serena pulled out and headed toward Main Street.

  “Yes, and it was even a bit higher than what I had originally estimated. The book must be in better shape than I’d given it credit for. I guess my skills have slipped a little not being in the loop of daily market updates.”

  “You have been out of the business for a while. It’s lucky you still have connections you can turn to.”

  “That I am, and I’m glad that I already told Teresa that she needed to set a reserved starting bid of at least thirty thousand. It might even go as high as fifty to sixty thousand. I had thought only forty to fifty.”

  “Wow,” Serena whistled. “I hope there’s enough money in town for someone to bid on something that expensive.”

  “I suspect that it may come from outside the community. Teresa told me that within hours of her posting a list of the items for auction on their webpage, she had calls from rare-book brokers all over the world wanting tickets for the event.”

  “Yuck. I mean great for the auction, but”—Serena pulled into a parking space by the hospital main entrance—“I hope us poor local folk will still be able to buy tickets.”

  “You don’t have yours yet?” Addie frowned at her as she stepped out and then cringed when icy slush ran over the top of her ankle-high boot and oozed between her toes. She shook the remaining snow from her pant leg and hopped one-footed over the curb to the cleared sidewalk.

  “No, guess I’m a typical small-town girl.” Serena cocked a questioning eyebrow at Addie, who stood crane-style on one leg. “I don’t plan ahead and buy at the last minute.”

  Addie wiped the remaining slush from her boot with her other pant leg. “You should at least ask Teresa to hold two tickets for you. You are taking Zach, aren’t you?”

  Serena nodded, grinning, and pulled a large box out of the back of her Jeep and shuffled it from hip to hip.

  “Want some help?”

  “No, it’s just awkward. I can manage.” She panted into the lobby. “There’s the elevator. Hurry, I don’t want to have to wait for the next one; they get so slow during visiting hours.” She rushed in and pressed the lower-level button.

  “But Teresa’s office is up on the third floor.” Addie peered at the numbered circles and moved a finger toward the number 3.

  “Yes, but the auction and dance are on the lower level.” Serena swatted away Addie’s hand, and the elevator dipped and journeyed down.

  “The basement?”

  “No, that’s a level below.” The door opened and they stepped out.

  “Now I’m confused.” Addie frowned. “This is the floor the lab, X-ray, cafeteria, and Simon’s office is on.” Addie eyed the signage hanging overhead in the wide corridor. “Is the auction in the cafeteria, then?”

  “No, there are the two wings. All that other stuff is in the north wing, and the south one is mostly classrooms and conference rooms with folding dividers between them that can open up into one large space.” She waved her hand like a game-show hostess. “This is where the auction and dinner dance are held every year.”

  Addie stopped at the conference room entryway. The winter wonderland scene in front of her was breathtaking. A smile touched the corners of her mouth when her head bobbled back and forth as she glanced over the richly decorated space. Serena led the way to table number 5, set her box down, and scanned the room.

  “There’s Patrick. I’ll just let him know I’ve finally brought in my donation,” Serena said, and sauntered off across the large room.

  Addie took one look at Patrick, Teresa’s frazzled-looking assistant, and thought that if he wasn’t already balding, he would be by the time this event was over. She willed herself not to laugh, but it was hard given the fact that he kept scouring his hand through what little hair he did have left. Not trusting herself to behave, Addie shifted her attention from Patrick by browsing through the silent auction items displayed on the tables around the room’s perimeter.

  It impressed her to see that aside from local businesses, there were donations from all over the eastern Massachusetts area, including a few from Boston. She glanced around the room and found it curious, though, that she didn’t see the pedestal book display case she had borrowed from the Boston Library to safeguard her donation. When she spotted Serena and Patrick chatting in the far corner, she headed toward them.

  “Hi, Addie.” Patrick’s eyes lit up when she joined them. “As you can see it’s pretty crazy in here today. The volunteers are still hard at work adding glitter and glam”—he cleared his throat and glanced sideways at Serena—“and the last-minute items are being delivered.”

  “Hey, I’ve been busy.” Serena pouted.

  “Never mind, your baskets do bring in some nice, high bids, so we are grateful regardles
s of how tardy you are.”

  “Well, I do have a reputation I have to uphold. It takes me months and months to put one together.” She placed the back of her hand across her forehead as if in a swoon. “I don’t know how I manage it all.”

  Addie guffawed at her friend’s theatrics. “I don’t see my donation, Patrick.” Her gaze darted around the room again.

  “No, it’s still up in Teresa’s office. She thought that since it’s the only live auction item, and that you’d set a reserved starting bid on it of thirty thousand dollars, she wasn’t exactly comfortable about keeping it down here.”

  “That’s a good call. I have the paperwork for her now, which will help the auctioneer drive up the price. My estimate may have been a little on the conservative side, though.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, my ex-coworker at the Boston Library informed me that in today’s market, it could bring in a sale price of well over sixty thousand.”

  Patrick’s face paled. “Wow. That would really help pay for the wing renovations, maybe even the operating room.” His hand swept around the room. “Combined with the other money raised by all these, we should be in great shape to meet our goal.”

  “Let’s not get our hopes up too high,” Addie said, “but you never know these days. A copy apparently sold at a Sotheby’s auction a few years ago for one hundred and sixty thousand.” Patrick’s eyes popped wide open. “But it was an inscribed copy. So, it’s hard to know ahead of time what my copy will go for, but it might be higher in the market today than first thought, especially this time of the year.” She looked around the room at the array of twinkling Christmas trees placed between the display tables.

  “We can only hope.” He held up his crossed fingers.

  “Where’s Teresa? I haven’t seen her yet to give her these.” She tapped the envelope she held to her chest.

  “She had a luncheon”—Patrick looked up at the wall clock—“but that was hours ago, and it’s almost one thirty. I haven’t seen her down here, so I’m not sure she’s back yet.”

  “Maybe she’s in her office. I’ll just run these up and see.”