Checked Out (A Ricki Rydell Mystery Book 1)

by Abby Matthews

  “Are you sure you want to be burdened with all my stuff?”

  “Are you kidding? This is the first time I’ve been out of the house in two months that didn’t involve driving to the grocery store or to the pediatrician’s office. I am dying to know what’s going on with everyone else.” She sounded so desperate, and Ricki felt a little sad for her. Becca wasn’t a homebody, unlike herself.

  Unfortunately, the only news Ricki had was the talk she had with her agent about changing genres. Oh, and Jennifer Barnes. Between sips of her cappuccino, she shared details of her conversation with her agent. “I pretty much told her I didn’t want to write any more romance novels.”

  “Can you do that?”

  Once again, Rumpus tugged on the leash, dragging her over to a large maple tree so he could sniff the base of it before hiking his leg. “After I fulfill my contractual obligation, yes. And I’m going to do it. I have enough money saved to hold me for a good long time, and I’ll continue to make royalties, so it’s not like I’ll be hurting if I give it up. I need something different. It’s killing my creativity.”

  A wicked smile worked across Becca’s face. Ricki knew that look. She knew exactly what she was thinking, and she wasn’t going to have any of it. “I heard a rumor the other day.” That was her friend’s way of easing into it.

  Playing along, Ricki said, “Really? And what is this rumor’s name?” Rumpus flicked his back legs, throwing grass and dirt at her feet. She banged the toe of her sandals against the ground to work it out before it got stuck to her skin.

  “Damon Evers. Ring a bell?”

  “Damon, my brother’s best friend from high school, Damon? Um, no.”

  “He’s moving back to Unionville to start his own construction company. He’s a contractor.” Becca said the word contractor as if it were some juicy detail that would entice Ricki to want to drop everything and chase down this Damon Evers.

  “And why would a contractor want to move back to a place with all four seasons.”

  “Rumor has it, he was homesick.”

  At first she wanted to say something sarcastic about how Unionville was a boring place to live until she realized how much she loved living there. It was a strange little place, filled with strange people, but she was one of them, so she had no room to judge. She could see why he would want to move back home.

  “Have you seen Damon since he graduated high school?” Becca fanned herself, insinuating that Damon was hot stuff. That was not how Ricki remembered him. She remembered the face full of pimples, the greasy hair, and the annoying habit he had of smiling too much.

  As they walked along the tree covered path, Ricki spotted one of her teachers from high school, and her best friend, coming toward them, arms swinging vigorously, short legs overreaching. Everyone in town called them The Two Graces. Grace Rossini, also known as Grace1, and Grace Mowry, also known as Grace2. When Ricki saw the two of them walking toward her, she realized this was a perfect opportunity to turn the subject away from Damon and what he looked like these days to something that was pressing on her mind.

  Grace1 rushed up to Ricki, arms wide open, and smashed her into her bosom in a big, embarrassing hug. “I heard you were going to volunteer at the library. Is this true?”

  “I didn’t hear about this,” Becca said, surprised. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Right before Damon.”

  Grace2 looked intrigued. “I think we might have walked in on the middle of a juicy conversation.”

  “Never mind that,” Grace1 said, waving her hand dismissively. “You know I volunteer at the library, too, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t know what’s been keeping you busy since you retired.”

  After the whole incident with Jennifer and her manuscript, Ricki had regretted filling out the application to become a volunteer. Knowing her former English teacher volunteered there as well set her mind at ease. Grace Rossini was a tough old bird. She didn’t take lip from anyone, but she was one of the sweetest women she had ever met. She was also really good friends with Ricki’s mother. Maybe Grace1 knew a thing or two about this Jennifer Barnes. Not wanting to seem like a gossip, Ricki eased into the subject. “It’s a relief to know you’re going to be there. Everyone seems…sort of nice. Do you have any advice? Anyone I should watch out for?”

  The Two Graces looked to each other as if they were communicating telepathically before turning to Ricki. “Now that you’ve asked,” started Grace1, “there are a few people you should stay away from.”

  “At the library?” Becca said. “I thought only nice people worked in libraries.”

  “HA!,” Grace2 said.

  Ricki nibbled on her almond croissant, feigning disinterest, letting the two ladies reveal all their secrets without any encouragement from her.

  “There’s one in particular,” Grace1 said, whispering. “You should avoid her like the plague.”

  “Who?” Becca said, excitedly. “We need names.”

  “Well, I don’t like to gossip.” Grace2 lied. Every time she was about to say something she shouldn’t, she always prefaced it with those exact words. “Personally, I don’t have anything against her. She’s never done anything to me, but I know she has hurt some people in the past.” She gave Grace1 a sideward glance. “She’s a piece of work, if you know what I mean.”

  Becca had a devilish grin on her face. “No, what does that mean? This is the most exciting thing I’ve heard in months. Tell me more.”

  Ricki smacked Becca lightly on the arm. “Down, girl.”

  “It’s not my story to tell,” Grace2 continued. “But her first name starts with a J and her last name starts with a B. Now that we have that out of the way, if you have a boyfriend you should keep him away from her, if you know what I mean.”

  Becca gasped. “No way.”

  It took a second before Ricki realized what her friend was doing. She wasn’t really interested in learning all this gossip; she was only egging the two ladies on for her own amusement. To which Ricki was grateful because it saved her from asking all the dirty questions.

  “You’ll come to notice I don’t volunteer on the days she’s there,” Grace1 said, proudly, defiantly. “And that’s all I have to say about that.” She turned to Grace2. “We better get our walk in before it gets too late. We walk every morning between ten and twelve. Got to keep active as you get older. Ricki, I hope to see you there, but if I don’t, we’re glad to have you anyway. Tell your mom I said hi. Let’s go, Grace.”

  Grace1 slipped her arm in the crook of Grace2’s elbow and walked off. Becca stood there, giggling.

  “You’re terrible, but I love you for it,” Ricki said. “So, now we know a little more about Jennifer. Good thing I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Yet. Once Damon gets into town…”

  “Let’s not even go there. I’m not in the market to be set up with anyone.” As they walked along, leaving the protection of the trees, the sun beat down on Ricki’s head. She regretted the cappuccino, but she couldn’t drive past The Bean without her steering wheel turning toward the parking lot. The car couldn’t help it, and she couldn’t fight the car. It was much stronger than her will. By now, Rumpus was panting. “Let’s sit in the shade for a while.”

  Ricki suddenly grew quiet, and Becca took notice instantly. “Are you all right?”

  “Just a little hot, that’s all.” That was partially true. A memory pricked at Ricki’s heart. She thought she had forgotten about the person who made the memory, but hearing others mention Jennifer’s indiscretions with other women’s men, reminded her of that pain from barely two years ago.

  His name was Martin Houck, Marty for short. He was the only man that ever made Ricki think about marriage, and he left her for another woman. She never found out if he actually cheated on her, but it didn’t matter. He was gone; she was devastated. She never told anyone, not even her own best friend, the real reason they broke up. To everyone else, he took a job in Chicago to chase his d
ream as a photojournalist, and Ricki gave him the freedom to do it. What they didn’t know was that Marty met someone while he was in Chicago and couldn’t live without her. But she didn’t want to think about that time of her life anymore. She had moved on, or so she thought.

  As if on cue, baby Megan began fussing in her stroller much to Ricki’s relief. Becca sat on a bench and tended to her baby. Rumpus plopped himself down in the grass and began rolling on his back. And Ricki did her best to forget the pain of the past by thinking of something else. “I guess I’m obligated to volunteer now, aren’t I?”

  “You’re not obligated to do anything.” Becca rummaged through the diaper bag, pulling a small bottle out. “Why did you decide to volunteer anyway?”

  “Before we got interrupted, I was going to tell you that I needed something else to do, to get out of the house. I’m going stir crazy. And when I was at the library picking up my books, I saw a sign and thought, why not. It’ll be good for me. Right?”

  While Becca fed baby Megan, Ricki told her of the run-in with Jennifer and how she wouldn’t let her leave the library and how she insisted that she read her manuscript even after saying no several times.

  “You sound almost desperate as me. It won’t be that bad. Just go in and do it, and if you don’t like it, quit. Besides, I want to know what a piece of work means. As a writer you’re supposed to be pretty observant, so report back to me what she’s really like.”

  “I already told you, pushy and intense. The kind of person I can’t tolerate. She made me nervous.”

  “Everyone makes you nervous.”

  Which was exactly the reason she questioned her decision to become a volunteer in the first place. Writing appealed to her because she could hide in her house all day. And now she was about to venture out and talk and mingle and get close to other human beings. What was she thinking?

  Four

  Ricki pushed the buzzer at the backdoor to the library, eager to start her first day of volunteer work. She checked her email while waiting for someone to let her in, but surfing her inbox wasn’t the distraction she had hoped it would be. Now that she knew what kind of person Jennifer Barnes was, her stomach tightened at the thought of having to see her face again, even if Victoria assured her she had nothing to worry about. Not wanting to relive old memories of her ex’s infidelity, she tried to put the thought out of her mind. She would always have to answer questions about her books from overeager fans. That was something she could deal with even if it sometimes made her uncomfortable. But to have someone remind her of what her ex-boyfriend did wasn’t as easy to deal with.

  The backdoor swung open and out popped Victoria, eyes squinting against the morning sun. “I was worried Jennifer might’ve scared you off.”

  “I forgot all about it.” Not entirely truthful, but she had hoped that would put an end to the subject once and for all.

  “Let’s get you started, then.” Victoria took her to the break room and showed her where to put her things. “You can leave your purse in the locker and carry the key with you. Just be sure to put it back when you leave as these are community lockers.”

  Ricki slipped the key in her back pocket, along with her cellphone and earbuds.

  “Now let me give you a tour of the library.”

  She followed Victoria out the door of the break room, dumping them directly in the stacks. Not used to this vantage point, the library suddenly had an unfamiliar feel to it. She spun in a circle, orienting herself.

  “This is the nonfiction section, which is where I recommend you start. Nonfiction tends to get all jumbled up. Patrons pull a book off the shelf, skim through it, and put it back without paying attention to where they got it. I’ll have Jon, one of our library associates, show you how to shelf read. He’s an excellent teacher, very patient and kind.”

  As they moved out of the stacks, they came upon the public computer section where a single patron was busy tapping away at a keyboard. Sitting behind a large desk, as if a teacher watching over a classroom, sat the reference librarian.

  “This is Linda. If you ever have any questions about anything at all, she’s the person to ask. She’s the queen of research.”

  As they engaged in the pleasantries of new introductions, Ricki became distracted by the sound of voices raised in anger coming from behind the door in the corner, where the lone computer user sat. Since it was early, the library was quiet, making the words, “Get out of my office,” unmistakably clear. Even the guy whose face was glued to the computer monitor stopped and turned toward the sound. The blue placard on the door read, Employees Only. It was in close proximity to the circulation desk and appeared to be another way to get to the offices behind it. Things were starting to look familiar. She always wondered what was behind all those doors.

  On the move again, Victoria showed Ricki the fiction section—her favorite part of the library—before heading on to the children’s section at the opposite end of the building. The shelves were shorter, the decorations on the wall more colorful—all appeared to be hand-painted by the kids. A little girl curled up with a book in a beanbag chair reminded Ricki of herself when she was that age. She wanted to go up to her and give her a little fist bump and say something like, “Keep it up, girl. Books are awesome,” but that would have been weird.

  Victoria led Ricki through the back offices where she introduced her to the library director, Felicity Harmon. Within seconds of meeting her, Ricki recognized hers as one of the angry voices she had heard earlier, the one who demanded whoever to leave her office. She seemed to be in a hurry, so they didn’t talk long. She wasn’t how Ricki imagined a library director would be. Not that she had a clear idea of what a person in charge of a large library would be like, but Felicity reminded her of someone who should have been in the corporate world, climbing her way to the top. She came across as harried and impatient and trying too hard to win Ricki over to her team—whatever team that was.

  “Let me introduce you to Jon so you can get started,” Victoria said, placing her hand gently on the shoulder of a boyish looking man. “This is Ricki Rydell. She’s our newest volunteer.”

  Jon was tall and thin, with messy brown hair, probably about twenty-one years old, with a friendly smile that could light up a room. She had a feeling his looks hid his true age, but she wasn’t about to ask a total stranger how old he was.

  “Nice to meet you, Ricki. If there’s anything I can do for you, I’ll be happy to help.”

  “Actually,” Victoria said, “I was wondering if you could show her how to shelf-read. I’m sure she’ll pick it up quickly. While you do that, I’ll cover you on the circulation desk.”

  “Of course. I’d love to.”

  All this activity so early in the morning was beginning to wear Ricki down. She had a quota of how much time she could spend around people before she wanted to go back home and sip a cup of coffee to decompress, and she was about to reach that point. Jon led the way to the nonfiction section, grabbing one of those little stepstools on the way over. “You look like you’re going to need this.” He blushed, realizing he might have said something inappropriate about Ricki’s height. “To reach the top shelves. I sometimes need it, too.”

  Ricki wasn’t the least bit offended that he made a comment about her height, not that she was that short, but to someone as tall as Jon, everyone was short.

  “You want to pick a small section of shelves to work on. Make sure the call numbers are in order, the same with the author names.” She looked on as Jon educated her on the finer points of the Dewey decimal system, pulling some books off the shelves, shifting others, and placing them back on the shelves so they were in the proper order. He placed the book ends in line with the edge of the shelf—a point that seemed a bit obsessive. “What do you think? Do you think you have the hang of it?”

  “You were very thorough with your instructions.” Victoria was right that this was going to require a bit of concentration. But it was just what her mind needed: a distraction
from anything to do with writing. Being in the philosophy section was the perfect place for her to start. No talk of love or relationships or sex—just things to make you think about life, death, and the meaning of existence.

  “All right, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be at the circ desk if you need me.” He flashed his toothy smile, blushed a little, and walked away.

  Figuring the best place to start was at the top, Ricki placed a foot on the little stepstool and focused on the call numbers in front of her. She plugged her earbuds into her phone, jammed them inside her ears, and logged onto her music channel. This was nice. This was perfect. And it wasn’t long before she shook her booty, zipping right through the philosophy section.

  As she was be-bopping along to the music, and getting to the fourth shelf in record time, she couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was watching her. Now it was a public place and the probability of someone being in the same aisle as she wasn’t that much of a stretch, but this felt different. Feeling a bit paranoid, she glanced over her shoulder to find Jennifer Barnes, her overeager fan who liked to sleep with other women’s men, hugging the manuscript she agreed Ricki would read. Victoria said she wouldn’t have to see or work with Jennifer ever again, yet there she was.

  Jennifer’s eyes were bloodshot. She had broken out into a sweat—hopefully not in a mad dash over to the library just to hand this magnificent tome of hers over to Ricki. Her hair was completely disheveled, her clothes out of sorts. In summation, she didn’t look anything like she did the day Ricki met her. In fact, she looked like a hot mess. Except it wasn’t a hot mess in the sense that she was drunk and falling down all over herself. No, she didn’t look well, as in she had some communicable disease that Ricki feared she was sure to catch, thus ending her short life. This was what she got for going out of the house.