The next day, Sunday, I went to church.
I was exhausted by the events of Saturday night, and I’d replayed the scenes of what transpired at the gala in my head a million times. Talk about the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Last night was a roller coaster, and now the ride still wasn’t over. In some ways, it seemed like it was just beginning because we had no idea what happened. The puzzle pieces were scattered just like the glass all over the lobby floor from the Founders’ Bible display case. Right now I didn’t know if those pieces would ever come together to give us a clear picture of who stole the future of the Bryce Beach Public Library.
My dad wore a somber face as he greeted me in the church parking lot. “You doing okay, Sunny?” He was the only one allowed to call me that.
“I just don’t know where I went wrong…” My voice trailed off when I realized my mom wasn’t with him. “Where’s Mom?”
He shook his head. “She was so upset last night, so worried about you, she couldn’t sleep. She was up all night, so she decided to stay home today.”
As horrible as I felt, I felt even more horrible that my mother was suffering right alongside me. She was such a sensitive, empathetic soul. Maybe I could take her lunch after the service. “Oh, great. Now I feel even worse.”
My dad, who was tall and strong, even if he was shrinking a bit with age, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. “It’ll be okay, Sunny. Everything will work out; you’ll see.”
“I wish I could believe that.” I smoothed down my boring gray dress I’d chosen because it matched my mood and walked with him inside the building, where we greeted other members of the congregation before settling into our family’s pew.
By now, I was sure everyone had heard what happened at the gala, even the people who weren’t in attendance. Small towns were excellent at spreading the word about everything from thefts of priceless relics to who’s getting married to who’s having the next garage sale. Fortunately, my fellow churchgoers seemed to understand I needed space because no one approached me. I must have had a shell-shocked look on my face that warned them to stay away.
As I was trying to settle my mind into a state conducive to worship, I remembered our pastor had retired last month, and no one had been hired to take his place. Pastor Marks was our minister for as long as I could remember, and no one would be able to fill his shoes. Just thinking about that—and having to sit through a sermon delivered by someone who wasn’t Pastor Marks—made me even sadder.
After the prayer, a few hymns, and a special performance of “How Great Thou Art” by a tenor with a rather tremolo voice, the guest minister took the pulpit and started off by telling a story. I struggled to stay engaged and not let my mind wander.
How was I going to face my boss tomorrow morning?
I felt like this was all my fault. I should have put the donations someplace safer than the workroom. I thought the doors were all locked, but I wasn’t the last one out—I had to take the Post-It note to the mayor, and the rest of the committee followed me out of the room. If someone left the door open…
Then I found myself running through the sequence of events from the time we heard the glass break until I finally left the library and went home. Officer Hancock from the Bryce Beach Police Department arrived only five minutes after the mayor called him. He and his partner, a young female cadet named Allison Adams, set about taking statements from the key witnesses and collecting names and telephone numbers of everyone else. There were still at least fifty people in the building when the mayor announced the sum of the donations.
I found my boss upstairs in the activities room. She was helping the catering staff clear away dishes and tablecloths from the dinner. The caterers had music playing to make their work faster and more enjoyable, and it was immediately apparent that none of them heard the commotion on the first floor.
So I had to be the one to deliver the bad news to my boss.
Susan Gooch, who was one of the most pragmatic and even-tempered people I’d ever met, nearly crumbled to the floor in shock and despair. I caught her, and she threw her arms around me, sobbing.
I still felt her arms around my shoulders now—this version of my boss was the polar opposite of the stoic woman who ruled the library with an iron fist. But Susan knew what was at stake if we didn’t recover the stolen funds and the Founders’ Bible. The latter was irreplaceable; it was as simple as that. But the funds were the only way we’d be able to keep the doors to the library open all year, increase our collections, and maintain our current staffing levels.
And I still heard her voice echo in my ears every time I recalled her look of devastation. “Sunshine,” she’d said, “I want you to work with the police on this investigation. You were the staff member in charge of the gala, and you are the one who saw all the checks that came in. You’ve already been meeting with the Friends of the Library for the last six months to plan this event, so it will be easy for you to coordinate with them if the police need to question anyone further.”
That was all true, but…
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be better if you were in charge?” I hadn’t wanted to overstep my bounds, but I was feeling terribly unqualified to represent the whole library on this matter of utmost importance. Our jobs were at stake! The future of the community’s access to information, literature, and programming was at stake!
Planning an event was one thing, but being responsible for the investigation? Plus, I had already screwed up the event. How could I be trusted to see this through?
“I have faith in you, Sunshine,” she told me. When I looked at her in the harsh lighting of the activities room, it looked like she’d aged a decade just since dinner. “Bring back our money and our Bible.”
Monday morning, I trudged into work carrying this heavy burden on my shoulders. My first task would be to call the Bryce Beach PD and see where they were in their investigation. Then I would go from there.
“Hey, you’re popular today,” Molly said as I came in the back door of the library, winding my way through the storage room that connected to the technical services workspace. I wasn’t expecting Molly to ambush me, so my heart nearly leapt out of my ribcage.
Evangeline offered up a little wave from her cataloguing hidey-hole. “Recovered from the big gala?”
Molly and I stopped at her office door. “Recovered?” I shook my head. “Until that money is recovered, I won’t be able to either.”
“The Chief of Police is here to talk to her about it, in fact,” Molly added.
“What?!” I looked at her incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The Chief of Police? Ack! I was expecting Officer Hancock and his sidekick Cadet Adams from Saturday night.
“I said, ‘You’re popular around here,’” Molly repeated, rolling her eyes and lifting one shoulder in a shrug.
I spouted off a breathy huff and left the two of them standing there so I could track down the chief and not make him wait any longer than necessary. Weaving my way through the library, memories bombarded me from Saturday night’s trip along that same path. When I reached the front of the circulation desk, I walked toward the periodical area, where the Chief of Police sat on a bench reading the most current edition of The Bryce Beach Gazette, which we always displayed on a newspaper stick.
One glance toward the lobby revealed that the display case where the Founders’ Bible had been kept for decades was gone. All the glass had been swept up. There was just a big empty space in the middle of the floor where it had once stood, only marked by the spotlight shining down from the chandelier suspended above it.
“Chief James?”
My voice caused his head to bob up from the newspaper, then his dark brown eyes met mine. He was a tall hulk of a man, easily six feet four, with massive arms and a thick neck. He stood up, set the newspaper stick down on the bench and extended his hand.
“Hi, I’m Sunshine Baker, Young Adult Librarian,” I introduced myself.
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br /> I reached out to shake, feeling his warmth seep into my skin as my hand was dwarfed in his. His grip was firm, but the contact was brief, and when he pulled away, he straightened to his full height and nodded, the little curl of a smile that had been on his lips when he first greeted me fading as the seriousness of the situation rose up like giant walls around us.
He scrubbed his hand over his bald brown head as he peered down at me, making me feel as small as a child. “Is there a place we can talk about the events of Saturday night?”
“Sure, let’s go up to the activities room. There won’t be anyone up there this early in the morning.”
The library had just opened, and the only patrons were the little elderly couple who lived next door. They came over to read the newspaper first thing every morning. On Mondays, they browsed the stacks, and each picked out two books. As we made our way to the activities room, I spotted them on the second floor in the midst of their Monday routine.
I gestured to a chair near the podium where I’d made my speech on Saturday night. The large square tables had been moved back into place, replacing the round ones used for the gala. Chief James took a seat at one of the tables, and I sat across from him, folding my hands together on the surface. I needed a notepad or a file folder. I felt practically naked sitting there with his dark, inquisitive eyes on me. He had the type of eyes that never missed a thing—just the type you’d expect someone in law enforcement to have.
“I’ve been reading through the report Officer Hancock wrote up.” Chief James glanced down at what appeared to be the report in question. “There’s not a lot to go on, and there haven’t been any fingerprints recovered from either the display case where the Bible was stolen or from the workroom where the donations were stolen.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to smack myself silly. My statement sounded so flippant. There was no denying this man made me nervous, and I hadn’t done anything wrong!
The chief pursed his lips as he tapped his pen against the manila file folder. “That means gloves were used. The whole thing was most likely premeditated.”
“So someone who was at the gala had planned to steal the Bible and the money all along?” I questioned. “The same person did both?”
“The two thefts happened in such close proximity, I’d venture the perpetrators were in cahoots.” The “P’s” of “perpetrators” popped off the chief’s lips as he stabbed his dark stare into me.
“You think there was more than one suspect?” I had to admit, I was tapping into my inner Nancy Drew at this point.
“It’s possible someone acted alone, but we need to do some further investigation.”
“I can’t believe someone actually infiltrated our gala.” I shook my head, stunned by the notion. I’d seen the guest list. I knew every single name on it—if not in person, I’d at least heard of each guest before. “Do you think their target was the Bible, and then they decided to go for the money too, or…?”
“I’m not going to discuss the particulars of the investigation with you, Miss Baker. But I did want to ask you some questions.”
“Alright.” His brusque tone sent a pang of disappointment through me.
He flipped through a few full pages of his spiral-bound notebook until he reached a blank page, then he poised his pen over the paper. “Where were you when the Bible was stolen?”
Wait. Was I a suspect?
“Chief James, I assure you, I had nothing to do with either theft. I organized the event. I love my library and my town. I would never do anything to hurt either one of them,” I said, not able to keep the defensiveness out of my tone.
“I just need you to answer the question, Miss Baker.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Is it Miss?”
I nodded. “Or Ms.”
I waited for him to say something further but then realized he was still waiting for me to answer his question. “I was standing not far from the mayor when he announced the sum of our donations. He was reading the figure off a pink Post-It note I had written the total on and handed to him only a minute or two before the announcement.”
Chief James scribbled a few lines on the notepad. “And you were the one who discovered the money was missing?”
I nodded. “The glass shattered in the lobby, and everyone moved that way to see what happened. I followed. Once we figured out it was the Bible, I felt compelled to check on the donations.”
“And were the doors to the office area locked?” he questioned.
“They were from the circulation desk entrance,” I said. “I didn’t check the back door…the one by the restroom.”
That was when I remembered the mayor’s wife heading down the hallway right before her husband made the announcement. Molly and Evangeline had theorized she’d gone to use the staff restroom, but she could have snuck into the offices through the back door if it was unlocked. She didn’t have a key.
What about the Bible, though?
Well, I didn’t see Rosita or Heather during the announcement. What if they bashed in the display case and stole the Bible to create a distraction so Camille could steal the money?
“Either way…locked or unlocked…who knew the donations were being kept in that workroom?”
I had thought of that. “Just the Friends of the Library committee, I think…and a few library employees.”
Oh. So I see how that looks.
“You don’t think one of us stole the money we worked so hard to raise, do you?” Again I felt like I was being accused, and I didn’t like it one bit. Where was the motive?
The chief tilted his head a little but didn’t say a word, just finished writing down a few things before looking at me again. “I’m going to need a list of everyone who had access to that workroom, including committee members and librarians with keys. Include those who were in attendance at the gala, and any who were not. There’s a back entrance to the building, correct? One anyone with a key could access?” He handed me a card as I nodded. “Email me the list as soon as you can, and include contact information. In the meantime, I’ll be interviewing other staff.”
He stood up and gathered his notepad and manila folder. “I’ll be in touch if I have further questions.”
So that’s it, huh? I nodded and thanked him for coming in, and then he was on his way.
I stood there for a moment in shock. He sounded like he thought one of us was responsible for stealing the gala funds.
One of us!
The very people the funds were going to help.
It was a warm spring day, and Molly, Evangeline and I decided to eat our lunches in the library’s courtyard. It was accessible on the other side of the reading room, and we often did children’s programming out there when the weather was nice. A crisp breeze was blowing in off the water, which was only a few blocks from the library, and the tree branches, whose spring leaves were finally unfurling, were waving in the air as wispy clouds floated past on their journey to the ocean.
“What did you think of Chief James?” Molly asked, her pale blue eyes darting between Evangeline and me.
Evangeline set down her fork in her salad bowl. “Seems like a pretty straightforward guy.”
“He thinks one of us did it, you know,” I said, unable to contain my instant dislike of the man.
“You think so? His questions seemed unbiased to me,” Evangeline insisted. “He asked, what did we see? When did we see it?”
“He wants me to provide a list of everyone who has access to that workroom where we were keeping the funds during the gala,” I shared.
“That seems pretty standard,” Molly argued.
“Oh, so you’re all on his side!” I refused to believe someone on our committee or library staff stole the money.
“Hey, I have to tell you something,” Evangeline interrupted the tirade I was about to embark upon against the chief accusing one of us of sabotaging our own library.
“What?” Molly popped a grape into her m
outh, then gave our dark-haired friend her attention.
Evangeline leaned in, then glanced around to make sure no one was watching or listening. We were outside. Alone. There might have been a few birds or a squirrel, but definitely no humans. “Remember how we saw Camille Steyer heading down the hallway toward the offices right before the donation total was announced?”
“Yeah?” I’d thought that was suspicious too.
“Well,” our cataloguer friend continued, seeming to enjoy holding us in suspense, “I overheard her and her little Mean Girl clique talking about the library and her husband on Saturday night.”
“You did?!” I was shocked I was just now hearing this. My friend was holding out on me?! “What did they say?”
“I didn’t want to repeat it because I was technically eavesdropping, and repeating it is just spreading gossip, but…” She looked around to make sure no humans had magically appeared since her last surveillance. Nope, still just birds. “But maybe it’s relevant to the case?”
“What did she say, E?” Molly asked, bouncing up and down on the bench like she could barely contain herself for one more second.
“She said something about how she was sick of her husband’s job and having to support stupid causes like the library, and she really hoped he didn’t get elected for another term.”
My hand flew to my mouth, covering up my gasp. “Wow, she really said that?”
Evangeline nodded. “Yup. I always thought she and her husband were so smarmy, but now, seeing how she really feels about the library…”
“Then why is she on the Friends of the Library committee? She’s the committee chair, for crying out loud!” Molly exclaimed. “I mean, if she thinks the library is stupid and is a stupid cause, why actually volunteer to help the library?”
“Maybe Bull put her up to it,” Evangeline hypothesized. “Because it makes her look like she cares about the community, which makes him look good. And if she chaired the committee that raised a lot of money for the library, then that might help him get elected.”
Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries Page 4