Which meant I was going about my research all wrong. I toggled back to the other photographs and allowed myself to follow this new train of thought. What if these works had all been created based on some specific criteria? There were many paintings mentioned in artists’ letters or other documents that had somehow disappeared or been assumed lost, some of them even before they were ever sold or exhibited.
It would be one way to provide better provenance for any forged works, if they were indeed forgeries and not simply stolen.
Or maybe it was a mix of the two—forgeries mixed in with actual stolen works. I sighed. It was probably best if I waited for more information from the art expert. But the lure of the mystery was so strong …
“Amy,” Sunny called from the other room, “Mr. Washington needs your help. He claims you were assisting him with some research the other day.”
“Yes, I’m coming,” I replied, with another sigh. My sleuthing would have to wait. I closed down the sites and left my desk to head out of the workroom.
Mr. Washington needed assistance in compiling a list of all known wineries in the region, and that, like all patron requests, had to take precedence over my own research, no matter how intrigued I might be.
* * *
After closing the library, we priced several boxes of book donations before Sunny dashed to the break room and returned with a white paper bag. “Grabbed these from The Heapin’ Plate while I was out,” she said, handing me a waxed-paper bundle and two napkins.
I unfolded one of the napkins and covered a portion of the workroom table before unveiling an overstuffed sandwich of pimento cheese and leaf lettuce on a brioche bun nestled next to a large dill pickle.
Sunny tossed me a package of potato chips. “Figured we wouldn’t get out of here in time for dinner.”
“Thanks. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. I’ve eaten at Lydia’s plenty of times, so let’s call it even. While I was at the diner getting lunch, I thought I might as well grab something for after work. I figured sustenance was required for this pricing project.”
“Good thinking.” I studied her as she took a large bite of her veggie sandwich. “What exactly was this errand anyway? You looked as pleased as a cat in the cream when you got back to work.”
Sunny waved her hand through the air and swallowed before replying. “Oh, nothing. Just arranging a little surprise.”
“For Brad?” Sunny had been dating the chief deputy for exactly five months, so I thought perhaps she was planning something to celebrate that anniversary.
“No. As you can imagine, knowing Brad, surprises are not his thing.” Sunny dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “Anyway, it’s a secret.”
That just made me more curious. “For your grandparents, I bet. Do they have an anniversary coming up or something?”
“Secret, Miss Nosy Pants,” Sunny said and took a sharp bite of her crisp pickle.
We finished our takeout in silence, although I did pull a couple of funny, raised-eyebrow faces at my friend, who just wrinkled her nose in return.
“Better wash our hands before we tackle any more labeling.” I crumpled my sandwich wrapper and napkins into a ball that I clutched in one fist as I headed out the workroom door.
The break room was located in the annex, so we had to cross a darkened expanse of the main room to reach it. Thinking of the electric bill, I resisted the urge to flick on the lights. It really wasn’t necessary, as Sunny and I could navigate this path in the dark, and anyway, an outdoor floodlight cast a beam of illumination through the library’s tall windows.
Sunny led the way, humming some tune I couldn’t place. Which wasn’t surprising. Despite a love for music, Sunny couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
Her pitch rose, then ended in a gasp.
A slender figure in a dark hoodie and jeans jumped out of the shadows and yanked Sunny forward.
Casting aside the ball of trash, I leapt toward them, but the light spilling through the windows glinted off an object that stopped me in my tracks.
A knife blade.
The intruder spun Sunny around and pulled her back, holding her against his chest with one arm. His other hand, the one holding the knife, swung up to her neck.
“What do you want?” Sunny’s voice shook, but the rest of her body was still as a stone statue.
“I want you to tell the truth,” said her captor.
Keeping an eye on the two figures, I took several steps back. As I pressed my hand against the plaster wall for support, my fingers encountered a metal switch plate. Hoping to startle the intruder into dropping the knife, I flicked on the lights.
The intruder blinked in the sudden flood of light but did not release his hold on Sunny—or his weapon. “That was stupid,” he said. “I could’ve sliced her neck right then and there.”
A squeak like a mouse caught in a trap escaped Sunny’s taut lips.
“Caden, please don’t hurt her,” I said. I didn’t know Caden Kroft well, but I’d seen him often enough, singing and strumming his guitar on the street corner outside Bethany Virts’s diner. “There’s no need to harm anyone. Just tell us what you want.”
“Told you. I need this one”—he flipped his hand so that the knife point touched Sunny’s chin—“to tell the authorities the truth about what she saw the day Rachel was killed.”
“Already did.” Sunny’s wide-eyed gaze was fastened on me as if she were drowning and I were the only lifeguard on the beach.
“No, you said you thought you saw me. But there was someone else there. In the woods. I saw them from a distance. You must’ve too.” Shadows played over Caden’s gaunt face, lending it a macabre quality.
He was whippet-thin and not particularly tall. I calculated the odds that I could overmaster him. But the manic gleam in his brown eyes and the knife at Sunny’s throat kept me frozen in place. “How did you get in here, anyway?”
Lank, shoulder-length auburn hair spilled to his shoulders as a jerk of his head tossed back the hood of his dark sweatshirt. “Through the front doors. Just mingled in with the other people till closing time, then hid in a closet in the kids’ room.” He sniffed, then coughed. “You guys aren’t very careful when you close up.”
“We don’t generally expect people to crawl into closets,” I said, my eyes focused on Sunny’s waxy face.
“It was too easy.” Caden rubbed his forefinger over his upper lip, just under his nose. “Not that I expected a bunch of library types to be very smart about such things.”
“So you saw someone else near the barn that day?” I asked, hoping to placate Caden while I mentally measured the distance to the main circulation desk. I’d left my cell phone in my briefcase, but there was a landline phone on the wall. If I could reach the desk …
But that knife was far too close to Sunny’s throat.
“Yeah. Couldn’t see who it was, or even how big they were or anything, ’cause they were too far away and hidden by the trees, but there was someone there. I know there was. I heard twigs snapping and boots stomping and saw a shadow moving through the woods in front of me. But the deputies zoned in on me ’cause of what you told them.” As Caden leaned over Sunny’s shoulder, he twisted his neck to look at her. The hand gripping the knife trembled.
“I only told them what I saw,” she replied in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t notice anyone else. If I had, I would’ve told them so, I swear.”
“But there was someone.” Caden’s voice rose to another register.
Like his hand, Caden’s entire body was shaking slightly. Drugs. He’s coming down off of something. Which could mean he doesn’t have the physical agility to actually use that blade.
But it could also mean that he’d react to any movement from me with irrational rage. I slowed my pounding heart with deep breaths. “I believe you, Caden, I do.” I held out my hands, palms up. “I don’t think you killed Rachel. There must’ve been someone else there. It’s just that Sunny didn’t see them, t
hat’s all.”
“But the authorities are after me.” Caden’s resonant singer’s voice had thinned into a whine. “And I got no proof, not without someone backing up my story.”
“I know, but we can tell them. Sunny and me—we can let them know what you saw and heard so they won’t just focus on you.” I slid one foot forward, and then the other, my hands still extended in supplication. “How about we let you leave and not call the sheriff’s department or 911 or anything. Not for at least an hour. So you can get away. I promise that’s what we’ll do if you just release Sunny. I swear it.”
Caden blinked rapidly. “I dunno. Not sure I can trust you. Can’t trust many people. Just can’t.” He sniffed several times and swung the knife through the air, away from Sunny’s throat.
“You don’t want to hurt me, do you, Caden?” Sunny kept her tone meek, which I knew must have been a challenge. She probably longed to scream at him, but she was smart enough not to exacerbate the situation. “I’m sure you didn’t harm Rachel, or anyone else, so please don’t hurt me.”
“I don’t want to.” Caden flexed his other arm, loosening his hold on Sunny. “I just want to be free. Not be tracked like some animal.”
“No one will do that,” I said. “You can get away right now and we won’t alert the authorities for hours and hours if you want. I promise.” That was a lie, but one I was happy to offer up for Sunny’s sake.
“I dunno, I guess, if you promise to tell them what I said. Tell them the truth about that other person…” Caden slid his hand from Sunny’s ribs to her left wrist and stepped to the side. “But just to be sure, I want you both to walk back into that room behind the desk. And no sudden moves, ’cause I still have this knife.”
I nodded and cast a reassuring glance at Sunny before turning and heading toward the workroom. When we reached the circulation desk, I considered making a grab for my briefcase but decided I shouldn’t antagonize Caden. He still gripped Sunny by the wrist.
“In there, both of you,” he commanded, pushing Sunny in front of him and pressing the tip of the knife against my shoulder blade.
I stumbled into the workroom with Sunny at my side.
“On the floor,” Caden said, grabbing a roll of duct tape from a nearby shelf. “Each of you choose a table leg and sit back against it.”
He was obviously going to tie us up, which didn’t bode well. I leaned back, my palms pressed against the wooden surface of the worktable to steady my shaking legs. My twitching fingers tapped something hard that I realized was a stapler. If I could hit him …
I clutched the stapler and tossed it, but Caden moved just in time to miss being struck. He yelled a string of obscenities as he leapt forward and thrust the knife in my face.
“Sit or I cut you,” he said.
The look in his eyes convinced me. Following Sunny’s lead, I slid down to the floor.
Chapter Nine
As Caden fiddled with freeing the end of the tape from the roll, I glanced over at Sunny. She mouthed something that looked like distracted, but I shook my head. True, Caden wasn’t focused on us for a second, but he still had a weapon, and after his last action I didn’t trust him not to use it.
I comforted myself with the thought that if he tied us up and escaped before we could alert the authorities, which seemed to be his goal, we’d eventually be able to break free. Or someone would find us soon enough. Aunt Lydia and Sunny’s grandparents knew we were working late at the library. If we never came home, they’d certainly inform the sheriff’s office.
It was a risk but felt like a better choice than fighting an irrational young man who was probably under the influence of drugs. Especially a guy who was holding a knife with a dangerous blade that could inflict damage in any type of struggle.
Caden knelt by Sunny, holding the knife in one hand while he ripped a piece of the tape off with his teeth. “Don’t try anything,” he said.
Just as he leaned in to tape Sunny’s hands behind her back, a series of knocks rattled the workroom’s exterior door.
Caden leapt to his feet, his eyes wide and his mouth twitching.
“Hello there,” yelled a voice from outside. “Anybody inside? The lights are on, so I thought…”
Swearing, Caden tossed the roll of tape at the door, which just made the visitor bang on it again.
“You okay in there? I’m going to call 911 if you don’t answer!” shouted the stranger.
Caden clutched the knife to his chest and fled the workroom. As I used the edge of the table to pull myself to my feet, the back door opened and slammed shut.
“I think he’s gone,” Sunny said, standing and brushing the dust from her purple maxi dress. “Should we get the door? I’m kind of spooked about that, to be honest.”
“I know, but I doubt there’s anyone else waiting to attack us, and they offered to help, so…” I crossed to the door, unlocked it, and cracked it open.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood on the stoop. Although he looked vaguely familiar, I couldn’t place him.
“We’re closed.” I kept my hand on the edge of the door, ready to slam it in his face.
“I know,” the man replied. “I’m just making a delivery for my mom. She told me you might be working late this evening.”
Sunny stepped up behind me as I opened the door wider. “What kind of delivery?”
“Donations for the festival. I was out this evening and they were stuffed in the trunk of my car, so I thought I’d go ahead and drop them off.”
I studied the stranger for another moment before it dawned on me. Donations. His mom.
“You must be Trey Riley.” That was why he looked familiar, although we’d never met.
“And one of you must be the library director.” Trey’s gaze examined Sunny’s slender build before lingering over my more curvaceous figure.
“That’s me.” I crossed my arms over my bust. “I’m Amy Webber. This is Sunny Fields, my assistant. Sorry if we seem a bit rattled, but we just had a frightening experience with an intruder.” Speaking those words highlighted the reality of the experience. I swallowed hard, fighting a wave of nausea.
“I thought I heard something.” Trey looked up and over my head. “Are they still here? I can quickly usher you both outside and call the authorities if necessary.”
“No, he fled out the back when you yelled and banged on the door.”
“Wow. I’m thankful I had such good timing. So glad you’re both okay.”
“Yeah, I’m thankful you did too.” I clasped my trembling hands together at my waist.
Sunny turned and headed for the circulation desk. “Amy, you chitchat with our guardian angel,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m going to call the sheriff’s office.”
Trey looked me over with what appeared to be sincere concern. “May I come in? I know you must be shaken up. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?”
I nodded and waved him inside, then closed and locked the door. Turning to face him, I realized why I should’ve recognized him immediately. Although his hair was light brown instead of blond and his eyes more hazel than green, he bore a distinct resemblance to Mel Riley. He also possessed her height and large-boned frame, and his pressed khaki pants and expensive leather loafers exuded the same casual air of wealth.
I twitched my lips into a semblance of a smile. “Sorry to be so unwelcoming. I’m very happy to meet you. Just wish it was under better circumstances. Anyway, I can’t thank you enough. You saved Sunny and me from a very uncomfortable night, if not something worse.”
Trey tugged on the collar of the cobalt-blue shirt peeping out from the neck of his ivory cable-knit sweater. “Honestly, I don’t deserve your thanks. I didn’t exactly do anything. Of course, I’m happy to have thwarted an attack, even if by accident. But I don’t deserve a medal. I’m just a stranger with good timing.” He ran the back of his hand over his eyes as if rubbing away some unpleasant thought.
“Still—thank you,” I replied fervently. “
And honestly, I can’t think of you as a stranger. I feel as if I know you already, since your mom talks about you all the time.”
Trey smiled, displaying gleaming white teeth that I suspected were veneers. “You have to take some of that with a grain of salt. Only-child syndrome, you know.” He looked me up and down again. “She did tell me the director was fairly young, but she didn’t mention you were so pretty. I’ll have to give her some grief for that oversight.”
I cleared my throat. “You couldn’t imagine she’d notice such things.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You expect your mom to play matchmaker when you’re new in town and single. Well, divorced, but it comes down to the same thing.”
I pursed my lips. Right, the divorce. Zelda had shared the gossip about Trey and the ex-wife who’d taken him for millions. If the stories were true, it was no wonder he’d moved in with Mel. He might need free lodging for a while.
“Your mom said you were living with her for a bit?”
Trey’s pleasant expression slipped for a second, but he quickly recovered. “Yes, for now. I thought she could use some help around the place, and since I needed to stay in town to oversee my latest development project, it seemed like the best option.”
Sunny walked back into the workroom. “Authorities are on their way,” she said, waving her phone.
“And we get to be questioned yet again.” I sighed heavily.
“I guess we should be used to it by now.” Sunny pulled a comical face at me before turning to Trey. “I couldn’t help overhearing. So you’re establishing a business in Taylorsford, Mr. Riley?”
“Please call me Trey.” He flashed her a brilliant smile. “And yes, I’m starting a winery. Well, restarting to be more precise. The grapes were planted by the previous owners. Fortunately, the vines aren’t in terrible shape, but there’s still a ton of work to do to turn the place into a going concern.”
Shelved Under Murder Page 8