Overdue

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  I sat there quietly with him for a bit.

  He finally turned to me and said, “If you found Howard yesterday, you must also have spoken with the police.”

  I nodded. “Mostly just to tell the chief what had happened and why I was there.”

  Elliot said, “Did you find out if they had any updates? If they’re following any leads? Whoever is doing this is still obviously on the loose. They might even kill again.”

  I said, “I’m sure the police are doing everything they can to find out who’s behind these deaths. But I didn’t find out any news from them, no.”

  Elliot sighed. Then he said slowly, “Carmen was just so full of life. It’s hard to believe she’s gone.” He glanced at me again. “You might have had a different impression, knowing Carmen on a professional basis.”

  I answered cautiously, “I didn’t really know her well since I only was acquainted with Carmen through work. But I always found her very organized and efficient. Every event she put together was always extremely successful.”

  Elliot gave an absent nod of his head. “It might be hard to believe, but Carmen was the kind of person who brought people together.”

  I thought this might be a bit of a stretch, but I nodded amiably. From what I’d witnessed, Carmen could also be very divisive when she wanted to be.

  I said, “It sounds as if she was a good friend, herself. I know she and Mel had been friends for a while.”

  I hoped he would either contradict me or add something. Elliot did.

  He said, “She was. Although Carmen wasn’t perfect. She and Mel were having some sort of spat when Carmen died. But you know how that is . . . friends sometimes don’t get along all that well.”

  He paused. “Like I said, Carmen wasn’t perfect. And she was the most complicated person I knew. Maybe that’s one of the things that attracted me to her—she was a puzzle for me to try and figure out.”

  I nodded and Elliot continued.

  “Sometimes I couldn’t really understand where she was coming from. Her relationship with Blake Thompson, for one.” He considered this for a moment and then said, “Actually, I think I do understand it, at least on a certain level. Blake probably seemed refreshing for someone like Carmen. He isn’t complicated like she was. What you see is what you get with him and she probably liked that. There’s absolutely no subterfuge there.” He sighed. “And now there’s no point trying to figure out Carmen anymore. She’ll forever be a mystery.”

  I said slowly, “Going back to the mayor, I was wondering if anybody had any public feuds with him. Or old grudges.” Elliot looked at me curiously and I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I guess I feel somewhat invested now. I’d like to see whoever did that to him brought to justice.”

  Elliot considered this in a sort of bemused, professorial way. “I suppose the spouse is always technically the prime suspect. Although you said Tanya was with you, didn’t you? When you found the mayor?”

  I nodded. “That’s right.”

  Elliot said, “I have a tough time picturing Tanya as much of a killer, though. She’s far too blue-blooded.” He glanced at his watch and said reluctantly, “I should head up to my office and finish preparing for my upcoming class. Thanks so much for taking the time to fill me in; I know you were here on library business.”

  As he hurried away, I couldn’t help but think of Blake’s reaction to him. Elliot may think Tanya didn’t look like a killer, but I thought Elliot seemed even less like one.

  Back at the library, it was business as usual. At least, it was until my phone rang. I was surprised to hear Tanya James on the other end. As usual, she sounded very composed. But there was a note of urgency in her voice, too.

  “Ann? Hi. I hope you’re having a more normal day today,” said Tanya dryly. There was a note of strain in her voice.

  I said cautiously, “How are you doing, Tanya? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Actually, there is. I left so quickly yesterday morning I felt I didn’t really even have a chance to speak with you about . . . what happened.”

  I said, “And let me just say again how sorry I am about Howard.”

  Tanya said quickly, “Thank you. Yes, it’s been very hard, not just for me but for my mother. At this point in her life, I’m really trying to keep everything pleasant for her. I feel like she should just live out the rest of her years peacefully, without any real troubles or grief.”

  This sounded like the impossible dream to me. Wouldn’t Tanya’s mom experience grief at the loss of her friends? Wouldn’t she have challenging days as well as good ones? Out loud I said, “Of course. I completely understand that. How did she take the news?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line and then Tanya said, “I gave her a slightly alternate version of events. I told her Howard had passed away, but didn’t tell her it was a violent death. I honestly didn’t see the purpose in upsetting her.”

  “I see.” Although, again, I thought it might be difficult to protect Tanya’s mom from this information for very long.

  Tanya sighed. “Honestly, it was still very upsetting for her. Her vision is very poor so she doesn’t read the newspapers anymore and I’ve spoken with her friends at the home and asked them not to divulge any details about his death. I was hoping perhaps you could keep some of the gorier details of Howard’s death to yourself? It would be very helpful if you didn’t speak with the press. I got the impression the police chief isn’t planning on releasing any information yet, either.”

  “I won’t say a word about how he died to the newspaper,” I said.

  Tanya’s voice was a bit lighter now. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” She paused again. “I’m so sorry for calling you at work. I hope I’m not keeping you.”

  “Oh no, it’s actually fairly quiet here now,” I said.

  She said, “It’s just been very difficult for me to believe this could happen. I must still be in a state of shock. There was one other thing I wanted to ask you. Do you know Elliot Parker at all? I believe he visits the library a good deal.”

  “I do know him, as a regular patron of the library. Sometimes he’ll come in to work or read for a while.”

  Tanya said, “It’s just that he had this tremendous argument with Howard a few days ago.”

  “An argument?”

  Tanya said, “That’s right. I was just coming home from running errands and Elliot was inside with Howard. I couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Technically, I suppose, it was Elliot ranting instead of an actual argument, which assumes two participants. I didn’t hear Howard speaking at all.”

  “Did they have any business with each other?” I frowned. “I mean, Elliot works at the university, so I wouldn’t think they’d have business in regard to Elliot’s work. But maybe there was something he needed from the mayor’s office or the town hall? Could it have been town business?”

  Tanya seemed to be weighing this on the other end. Then she said, “I don’t know. It simply didn’t sound like business to me; it sounded personal. But the house is big and the walls are thick and I couldn’t make out what he was saying.”

  I paused. “You could call Elliot and ask.”

  She gave a short laugh. “I did. He immediately brushed me off and got off the phone as quickly as possible.”

  I asked, “Are you planning on telling the police about it?”

  Tanya sighed. “I really feel like I should. It actually feels wrong not to tell them about it because it seems like the kind of information they’d want to know about. But at the same time, I’m torn—I don’t want to get Elliot into serious hot water when there might be no reason to do so. What’s your impression of him? Does he seem to have a hot temper?”

  I couldn’t really think of any reason why Elliot would have displayed a loss of temper in the library to begin with. If someone took too long at the copier machine? If someone took his seat while he was getting another book out? I said, “No, I’ve never seen him lose his temper.
Although I’m not sure there would have been much cause to at the library.”

  “No, of course not.” Tanya sounded disappointed. “Well, I’ve taken up too much of your time. Hope you have a good rest of your day, Ann.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  But the rest of the day wasn’t shaping up to be all that great. After I finished at the library, I hurried to the staff restroom really quickly to freshen up before my dinner with Kevin. I smoothed down my hair and took a paper towel to wipe away a mysterious stain from my lunch that had somehow migrated to my sleeve. Then I applied a smudge of lipstick. It would have to do. I muttered Zelda’s name under my breath as I headed out the door.

  It seemed to be a quiet night at Quittin’ Time, which suited me well. As the hostess greeted me at the door, I said, “I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here. Is there anyone already here waiting for another party?”

  The restaurant hostess gave me an apologetic look and shook her head. I stifled a sigh and said, “Could I wait at a table?”

  Ten minutes later, there was still no sign of Kevin. I checked my phone for the tenth time and didn’t see any messages. Should I call him? Text? Leave? How long should I wait before I took off?

  I felt bad about taking a table, especially as the restaurant was filling up. I went ahead and ordered a glass of wine and sent Kevin a quick text. Just checking in, it said.

  A deep voice that decidedly wasn’t Kevin’s squeaky one said, “Hi, Ann.”

  I looked up and saw Grayson standing there.

  “Oh hi,” I said in a somewhat breathless voice that definitely didn’t sound like mine. “Good to see you.”

  “I was just catching something to eat real quickly after leaving the office.” His eyes were tired, but he gave me a warm grin that made my heart beat faster. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  I hesitated. It was exactly what I wanted. What I’d always hoped would sort of accidentally happen so I didn’t have to make the first move. Anyway, he was just being friendly . . . it didn’t look as if he was searching for any sort of romantic interlude. At the same time, though, was I being stood up? Or not?

  I ended up saying reluctantly, “I would really love that, but I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here. I’m not sure if he’s running late or if I’m being stood up.” I gave a short laugh.

  Grayson backed up a step and looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you were eating alone.”

  “Oh no, that’s fine. Absolutely fine. I usually am. The evening is honestly something I’m not really looking forward to,” I said, wanting to explain about Zelda and the nephew and the blind date. But that was exactly when a squeaky voice said, “Ann?”

  I glanced up and then stood up as a very tall 30-something with thick glasses and a pocket full of pens stood in front of my table. He looked at me and then he looked at Grayson.

  Grayson quickly held out his hand and introduced himself. Then he said to me, “Good talking to you, Ann. See you later.”

  I watched miserably as he walked away to an empty table across the room and then I forced a smile and greeted Kevin. He sat down at the table with me and immediately started reading the menu.

  I glanced at my watch. He’d been almost thirty minutes late. Shouldn’t he at least apologize? But he’d already moved on to the food he was going to eat and started peppering me with questions about what was good at the restaurant.

  “Are the buffalo wings spicy?” he asked, pushing his glasses farther up his nose.

  I said, “For buffalo wings, you mean? They’re definitely spicy, but I don’t know they’re all that strong. I’d ask the waitress when she comes around.”

  But he’d moved on to other entrees with a frown. “Is the shrimp and grits any good?”

  This continued until the waitress came by the table. She asked if we were ready to order and I gazed helplessly at Kevin. I’d known what I wanted before I even arrived at the restaurant, but Kevin seemed like he might ponder his selection for a while.

  He didn’t answer and so the waitress asked, “Need a few minutes?”

  Kevin again didn’t answer, so I did. “Yes, please.”

  The waitress ended up coming back by two more times and each time Kevin didn’t even look up from the menu. The third time, I prompted him, worried we were going to be at Quittin’ Time all night. Plus, by this time, I really was getting hungry. Lunch had been a long time ago. “Kevin,” I said desperately, “are you trying to decide between a few different things? Maybe our waitress can help you decide.”

  This finally made him look briefly up from the menu. “I have four possibilities.”

  He listed them and the waitress gave a brief summary of the various popularities of the dishes with customers and the best points of all of them. Then she hesitantly made a recommendation.

  Kevin, still seriously considering all of them as if his selection was a life or death decision, carefully said, “Then I’ll get the pork chops. But could you leave the onions off?”

  The waitress made a note on her order pad. “Of course.”

  “And could you put the gravy on the side?”

  “I’ll definitely get them to do that.” She made another note.

  He gave her a few more changes to the dish before she hurried off to the kitchen to put the order in. Unfortunately, I saw a large party of what seemed to be an entire office had already submitted their order and it appeared to be heading to the kitchen before ours.

  I stifled a sigh and smiled at Kevin. Now the excruciating ordering process was over, maybe I could find out a little more about him. “Kevin, your aunt didn’t really have an opportunity to tell me much about you. Could you fill me in?”

  His eyes lit up behind his thick glasses as if it was a question he didn’t often hear. Then he launched into an exhaustive narrative about himself, giving no opportunity for me to break in. He started with his birth, listed all the teachers he’d had in school through the years, talked about his favorite foods and things he hated, then launched into his career in information technology and the tasks he completed on a daily basis.

  He was just starting to talk about the different organizations he belonged to in high school when the food arrived. I stifled yet another sigh as the waitress cheerily put down the two plates. Kevin regarded his with suspicion.

  To cover my discomfort at the way he was picking his food up with his fork and studying it, I started a halting, brief narrative of my own. Kevin, however, wasn’t listening. He finally took an experimental bite of his food and made a face. “The gravy is sort of spicy. And I don’t think the meat is done the way I want.”

  Before I could respond, he’d waved over the waitress. “This isn’t very good,” he said.

  I blinked. Usually, if you sent something back to the kitchen, you’d ask them to make a change somehow. Not just tell them it wasn’t good.

  The waitress, I have to say, was excellent. She seemed sympathetic, made eye contact, and nodded. Then she said, “I’m so sorry and I totally understand. Can I offer you a gift certificate for your next visit with us?”

  Kevin’s mouth pulled down in a frown. “I’m really just passing through town. I don’t live here.”

  Thank goodness.

  The waitress said, “May I at least bring you a free dessert? On the house?”

  Kevin looked up at the ceiling and paused for a moment as if to build tension for his response. I was already thinking of ways to wrap this date up as early as possible. A sudden headache? Something I forgot to take care of at the library?

  Kevin finally answered, “Well, all right. I suppose that will have to do. Could you bring me a dessert menu?”

  The waitress did and Kevin said, “I’ll need a few minutes.”

  I felt my blood pressure rise as he again carefully studied the short dessert menu, talking about his dislike for coconut and the way chocolate sauce was rarely made well.

  I started to tell him I was really going to need to
cut the evening short when he waved the waitress over and peppered her with questions about his top three choices.

  At this point, I reflected again on the fact I needed to stop getting set up for blind dates, period. I’d never had one go well or that had led anywhere. Usually, the only reason I went on them was out of a sense of obligation to the person who was trying to set us up.

  Finally, Kevin reluctantly placed his order, as if sure he’d made a terrible mistake somehow. I wasn’t sure how you could go wrong with chocolate cake and ice cream, but he seemed convinced it was very possible.

  He glanced across the restaurant and then reached out his hand and held mine. I was so shocked my first instinct was to shrink away from him . . . which I did. I followed his gaze and caught Grayson’s eyes before he colored slightly and looked away, apparently thinking he’d interrupted some sort of intimate moment.

  I was just about fed up by this point. I gave Kevin a tight smile and was about to tell him I’d had a long day and really needed to head out when his phone rang. It was a ringtone that was some sort of rap music and I flushed as other diners looked our way. I watched as he slowly realized the ringing was coming from his own pocket and then even more slowly pulled the phone out.

  “Aunt Zelda?” he asked into the phone.

  He listened for a few moments and then said, “Okay. I’ll be over in a minute.”

  Kevin raised his hand and called the waitress over. “Do you have the dessert ready? I have to go.”

  The waitress hurried back to the kitchen to get the dessert packaged in a to-go container.

  I said, “Is everything all right? Is Zelda okay?” Not that I wanted this horrid date to continue, but it did seem very abrupt.

  He shrugged. “She just needs some help with her phone, that’s all. She figured supper was about over.”

  He stood up and glanced over at Grayson’s table again, but he’d mercifully left. “Good to meet you,” he muttered as the waitress returned with the to-go container.

  As he left, I realized he’d left me to pay the entire bill.

  I was finally walking out of the restaurant a few minutes later, feeling like I just wanted to crawl into the bed. I heard my name and turned to see Elliot coming into the restaurant. He had a slight smile on his face.