Read and Gone

by Allison Brook

  “This is a nice surprise.” He took me in his arms and kissed me.

  I pulled back. “I had a surprise of my own.”

  “What’s wrong, Carrie? What happened?”

  “Tom Quincy followed me from the hospital. I made a sudden turn and lost him. I did some shopping in town. When I went to get my car in the library parking lot, he was waiting for me.”

  His face darkened with worry and anger. “Did he hurt you?”

  I shook my head. “No, but he took pleasure in threatening me. For some reason he feels my father owes him, and this was a reminder that he’d better come through.”

  “What did he say Jim owes him?”

  “He didn’t say, but my father told me Quincy was shaking him down for a few thousand dollars, which I doubt he has.”

  Dylan pulled me close, then set me aside as if I were a doll. “Carrie, please go into the kitchen and wait for me there.”

  “Why? What are you going to do? Call John? He’s not at the station. And my father—”

  But cell phone in hand, he had already strode into his office and closed the door behind him. I sat down at the round kitchen table to wait. A few minutes later Dylan came to stand before me.

  “You can rest easy, Carrie. Tom Quincy won’t go near you ever again.”

  “Why? What did you say to him?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is he’s been told to back off.”

  Told? Suddenly it all came together. “Quincy’s your confidential informant, or whatever they call a snitch in your line of work.”

  A flush spread across Dylan’s face. “I wouldn’t call him that.”

  “But Quincy’s the reason you went after my father, right?

  When he didn’t answer, I let out an exasperated sigh. “You already told me that much this afternoon.”

  “He told me your father and Benton Parr stole the gems my company was asked to retrieve.”

  “Why would he tell you something like that?”

  “To get back at them. He said Benton and your father refused to work with him anymore.”

  I bit back the string of curses running through my mind. “I suppose you pay this stool pigeon.”

  The flush spread to Dylan’s neck. “A few hundred dollars here and there.”

  “Quincy hurt my father and put him in the hospital. For all I know, he’s holding something over Jim’s head. Why else would Jim agree to pay him a few thousand dollars, money he doesn’t have?”

  “I’m sorry about that, Carrie, but I’m not responsible for Tom Quincy’s behavior.”

  “But you are responsible for his being here in Clover Ridge. He’s a menace to everyone, and he very well might have killed Benton Parr.” I scowled at Dylan. “You said he’s on John Mathers’s list of murder suspects. Are you going to tell John that Tom Quincy’s still in town? Quincy told my father he was leaving, but obviously he means to hang around.” So he can look for the missing gems.

  Dylan hesitated.

  “I don’t believe it! You’re more interested in protecting your snitch than doing what’s right.” I stood. “Goodbye, Dylan. Clearly we have conflicting agendas. Let me know when you want me to vacate the cottage.”

  I ran to my car, blinking back tears. I would not cry! Dylan wasn’t worth it. That thug Quincy was here because of him! In some ways, Dylan was no better than my father. His end game was retrieving the stolen gems, and he didn’t care who got hurt in the process.

  Smoky Joe met me at the door, meowing for his dinner. As soon as he cleaned his plate, I picked him up and cuddled him in my arms. The landline phone rang. I ignored it. After seven rings, I lifted the receiver and put it back down. My cell phone began to sound. I turned it on vibrate. I would not talk to Dylan. Nothing he might say could change the way I felt.

  The rest of the afternoon dragged on. I finished writing the last of my thank-you notes, then turned on the TV. Nothing but news and Christmas programs. I tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. I picked up my cell phone to call Angela but put it down again when I remembered she and Steve were going to a pre-Christmas family party.

  Smoky Joe watched as I paced the living room, a puzzled expression on his face. I didn’t feel like going to Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bosco’s for a bit of sympathy, but I was too restless to stay home. I slipped on my parka and climbed into my car, not sure where I was heading.

  I didn’t want to run into anyone I knew, so I turned onto the turnpike going west, in a direction I rarely drove. The light snow had stopped, leaving no accumulation. I hadn’t gotten very far when I realized I was hungry. I turned off at the next village and followed the signs to the center of town. The pizza parlor appeared to be the only brightly lit shop on Main Street. I stepped inside and breathed in the delicious aroma of baking pies. The front of the shop was filled with customers waiting to place or pick up their orders. Most of the tables in the large eating area in the rear were occupied by families and couples. There were very few single diners. I felt a pang of envy as I observed the young families dining out before settling down to a quiet evening watching TV. I’d probably never marry and raise a family of my own. Not with the emotional baggage I was carrying.

  When my order of two slices of veggie pizza and a soda arrived, I carried my tray to one of the small tables along the side wall near the back of the restaurant. Christmas songs played over the public address system, reminding me I was about to have the worst holiday ever. Dylan wouldn’t be coming with Jim and me to Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bosco’s on Christmas Eve as planned. I shook my head to drive away thoughts of Dylan. It hurt so much, knowing how close I’d come to being part of a couple with a man I was beginning to love.

  I never minded eating alone in a restaurant. I’d done it often enough through college and in the following years. To keep my mind occupied, I studied the families at the larger tables a few feet away. A man and a young woman walked past me and sat at the table for two just beyond mine. I recognized Dina Parr and her brother, Richard.

  At first they were too busy chomping into their slices to hold a conversation. I was on the verge of leaving when Richard, who faced me, leaned across the small table to address his sister.

  “Dee, you’re making a huge mistake moving back home. Once again, you’re giving our dear mother the power to control you. She’ll waste no time telling you how to dress, whom to see. Act Two of everything you hated while we were growing up.”

  Dina shook her head vehemently. “Not this time, Rich. I’m older. I know who I am, what I want.”

  His bark of laughter held no humor. “Really? You told me you wanted to run the jewelry store when Dad retired. She’s making sure that will never happen.”

  Dina’s voice flattened. “Mom says there’s no money to keep the store and buy new merchandise.”

  “Right. As usual, she does what suits her, and the hell with us. At least someone did us a good deed and got rid of our SOB father.”

  “Rich, how can you say such a thing?”

  “Easily.” He stretched across the table and lowered his voice, so I had to strain to hear him. “Ginny and I are having serious money troubles since she was laid off. Danny’s medical bills are astronomical; our insurance barely covers half. The other day I went to the store before work and begged our dear father to help us out. A loan, not a gift, mind you. He refused. Claimed he didn’t have it.”

  “I’m sorry, Rich. I wish I had the money to give you. I know what a skinflint Dad could be, but the store was losing money these last few months. Probably because he wasn’t concentrating on business. Mom said the only way she can pay for my tuition is if I give up my apartment and move back home.”

  Another bark of laughter. “And you fell for it? Dee, she only wants to control you. Didn’t she order you to stop dating Chris?”

  “We only went out a few times. Chris is a sweet guy, but he’s not my type.”

  “I’m glad I cut both our parents out of my life,” Richard said. “Ginny and the kids are m
y priority.”

  Dina sighed. “If only I could find those damn stones! That would solve all my money worries. I could pay for the rest of my college bills and take over the store.”

  “Yeah, right. The gems you and Chris keep looking for. Maybe they were nothing but the old man’s fantasy.”

  “I tell you they’re real, all right! I heard him talking about them on the phone. He said they’re worth millions.”

  Richard laughed. “If you ever find them, please put aside a small portion for me to help pay the mortgage.”

  “Of course, bro.”

  “Who was he talking to?” Richard asked, suddenly interested.

  “I don’t know. Probably his partner.”

  “You’re sure Dad had those gems?”

  “He told the person he was speaking to that he was keeping them in a safe place.”

  I covered my mouth to stifle my excitement.

  Richard glanced at his watch. “The Chinese order I called in for Ginny and the kids must be ready. I want to bring it home before it gets cold. It’s one of the few joys I can offer them these days.”

  Brother and sister stood and hugged.

  “If you change your mind about moving home, you can camp out in our den until you figure out your next move,” Richard said.

  “Thanks, Rich, but I’m going to try to make this work—for now.”

  He nodded. “Just keep on searching for those gems.”

  “Absolutely. Because once I find them I’ll lead my life exactly as I want.

  I drove home, mulling over Dina’s conversation with her brother. Both Benton and Mariel sounded like extremely selfish parents. Richard was estranged from them, and Dina had chosen to move back home and live with her mother under miserable conditions.

  Interesting that Richard had gone to talk to Benton to ask him for a loan. It didn’t seem to cross Dina’s mind that her brother might have gone to their father’s store the morning he’d been murdered. That they might have argued and, in the heat of the moment, Richard killed Benton.

  But would Richard have mentioned his visit to the jewelry store if he’d killed Benton? Or was he that certain that Dina would never speak out against him?

  As far as I was concerned, Richard Parr was now a solid murder suspect. He had means, motive, and opportunity. It was my duty to tell John Mathers what I’d overheard and let the police take it from there.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sunday morning I woke up early, glad that I’d be spending the day at work. The library was a cheerful, bustling place, and helping patrons would keep me too busy to dwell on my unhappy love life.

  Jim sounded chipper when I called him at the hospital. “How was your date last night?”

  “Tell you when I see you. I’ll stop by after work, around five thirty. Did the doctor say when you’re being released?” I asked to turn his mind away from Dylan Avery.

  “In a few days. He refuses to be more specific than that.”

  “Okay. Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

  When I hung up, I realized I was going to have to tell people that Dylan and I were no longer going out. I sighed. Jim, Angela, and my aunt and uncle would be supportive. Still, each time I had to repeat the current status was going to be painful.

  Smoky Joe and I had our breakfast, and then he curled up on the living room sofa for a snooze. The library opened at eleven on Sundays. It was eight thirty, so I had a few free hours ahead of me. I called the police station. Someone I didn’t know answered the phone.

  “Is Lieutenant Mathers there?” I asked.

  “No, but he should be in soon. Who is this please?”

  “Carrie Singleton.”

  “Would you like to leave a message, Miss Singleton?”

  “Just to say I’ll stop by the station later,” I said and ended the call.

  At a quarter to nine, I carried Smoky Joe to the car and headed for the village center. Such a joyous time of the year! Though the temperature was in the mid-thirties, the sun shone brightly on trees and houses bedecked with holiday and snow-related decorations. And I was miserable. I’d broken up with my boyfriend and would probably have to move out of the cottage I’d grown to love. I needed to track down a bagful of stolen gems before my father left the hospital and started searching for them himself. And figure out who murdered Benton Parr.

  Smoky Joe wasn’t happy about staying in the car while I went into the police station to talk to John. I placed the few treats I’d remembered to bring along on the passenger seat and left him nibbling away as I headed for the back door of the station. John was talking to the young male officer manning the front desk. He looked up and smiled at me when I entered.

  “Good morning, Carrie. Here to confess to a crime?”

  I smiled coyly. “Certainly, Lieutenant.”

  As I followed John into his office, I remembered how reserved and formal he’d been back in October when I’d asked for information about the two murders I eventually helped solve. But now we were friends. He took his seat behind his desk. I closed the door before sitting in one of the two visitors’ chairs.

  “First off, I want to tell you what I happened to overhear last night.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’d been out driving and stopped at a pizza parlor, when Dina and Richard Parr came in and sat at a nearby table. I happened to hear their conversation.”

  “And one of them confessed to their father’s murder,” he said deadpan.

  “Not exactly. Richard told his sister that he’d been to see Benton to ask for a loan. He went to see him one morning last week at the jewelry store.”

  John nodded. “We know.”

  “Oh!”

  “You sound surprised, Carrie. We talked to everyone in the Parr family. According to Richard, he saw his father the morning before the day he was murdered. We’re checking on his story, but so far there are no witnesses to either support it or to say Richard was seen the next morning when Benton was stabbed.”

  “I’m disappointed that what I told you wasn’t much help.”

  John smiled. “And I appreciate your coming in to share what you heard. Police work is often tedious. What looks like a great lead can turn out to be of no use at all. We have to shift through extraneous, false, and unsubstantiated pieces of information until the real picture presents itself.” He stood, ready to see me out.

  “I had an unpleasant experience with Tom Quincy yesterday afternoon. Do you know him?”

  John sat. “I do. He’s a person of interest in my homicide investigation. What happened, Carrie? Did he hurt you in any way?”

  “Just frightened me, as was his intention. He followed me from the hospital to the village center. I thought I’d lost him and parked behind the library to do some shopping. When I got back to my car, he was waiting for me.”

  “What did he say?”

  I squirmed, hating to bring my father into the conversation, but there was no getting around it. “He wanted me to remind my father they have a business deal. Not that they do,” I quickly added. “Jim wants nothing to do with that man.”

  “Did Quincy put Jim in the hospital?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you, but yes, he did.”

  “Are you sure they didn’t have some sort of a deal that went south?”

  “My father said they didn’t, and I believe him.”

  “Then why would he come after Jim?”

  I threw out my hands. “Because he’s a psycho and thinks there’s easy money to be had when that isn’t the case. Maybe he and Benton had a deal that went sour.”

  “That’s possible,” John said. “But I think you’re not telling me the entire story.”

  Time to change direction. “Tom Quincy’s just out to make trouble! Did you know Dylan pays him for information? Who knows what information he makes up to earn his keep.”

  “That’s also possible,” John said.

  I glared at him. “So what do you plan to do—to keep Quincy away from me an
d my father?”

  “According to Dylan, Tom Quincy left Clover Ridge early this morning for parts unknown.”

  I felt like a deflated balloon. “Oh. Dylan told you.”

  “An hour ago. I chewed him out for keeping me in the dark that his info on this case came from a felon—especially someone as erratic and volatile as Tom Quincy.”

  “Dylan’s responsible for bringing that thug to Clover Ridge. It’s partly his fault my father was assaulted. For all we know, Quincy killed Benton Parr.”

  “I’ll put out a be-on-the-lookout alert to bring him back to town when your father’s gone. Am I right in thinking he’ll be leaving soon?”

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “And I’m thinking he doesn’t want to bring charges against Quincy.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  John gnawed on his lower lip. I got the impression he was struggling with a way to say something that weighed heavily on his mind. He finally spat it out. “I’m truly sorry, Carrie.”

  “What for?” I asked, astonished.

  “For whatever reason Jim Singleton came back here. Somehow he got you involved, and it’s not doing you any good.”

  “I’ll survive,” I said stoutly.

  “You’re a good girl, Carrie. You deserve to do more than survive.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I rubbed them away. Why did any comment that showed someone cared about my welfare make me cry?

  John continued. “And I’m gathering from what you’ve told me that you and Dylan are squabbling.”

  “I wouldn’t call it squabbling. I can’t be with a man who’s looking to put my father in jail.”

  “From another perspective, it’s unfortunate that Dylan has reason to suspect Jim stole the gems he was hired to retrieve,” John said dryly.

  “Dylan should have told me he was going after my father before I signed a lease for the cottage.” Saying it aloud sounded childish, but I couldn’t help how I felt.

  “Maybe he should have, but your father put you in this untenable position. That’s not what fathers do.”

  I sprang to my feet and yanked open the door.

  “Don’t let Jim Singleton come between you and Dylan,” John called after me as I ran into the hall and out of the station.