Read and Gone

by Allison Brook

  “Honestly, that man! You’d think he’d learn to act his age and accept his limitations. I won’t be able to rest easy until he’s gone from Clover Ridge.”

  “Actually, Dad’s been behaving himself pretty well,” I said.

  “Really?” She sighed. “I don’t want him disappointing you the way he always does—running off and leaving his family.”

  “I don’t think he can help it,” I said. “He loves me—I know that now—but he can’t stay in one place for long.”

  Aunt Harriet harrumphed. “And we won’t get into a discussion of his less than honest ways to make a living. After all his shenanigans, he’s lucky he’s not in prison.”

  I laughed. “True. But I must admit I’m glad he’s spending Christmas with me.”

  “Can your little group be here at three tomorrow afternoon? Your uncle and I thought we’d celebrate Christmas Eve early this year. I invited the Claymonts next door to join us. They’re elderly, as you know, and prefer to eat early. And John and Sylvia Mathers would like to be home by eight o’clock since they’re expecting two carloads of kids and grandkids late tomorrow night.”

  “It’s fine with me, as well as Dad and Dylan. What are you making?”

  “The usual—a turkey, a ham. Coquille St. Jacques for appetizers, along with stuffed mushrooms, various veggies. I’ve made Christmas cookies, but I’ve yet to bake a few cakes.”

  “Don’t bother, Aunt Harriet. I’ll make a batch of my double-chocolate brownies.”

  “Oh, would you? Your uncle loves your brownies!” She paused, then added, “Thanks so much for taking care of that little matter for me.”

  I grinned, picturing Aunt Harriet leafing through Sex for Seniors. “Don’t mention it. Dealt with and forgotten.”

  “It’s so stupid the way I let the overdue fine grow and grow. I didn’t want anyone finding the book lying around, so I put it on the top shelf in my clothes closet. Eventually, I forgot I still had it. Then I got that official letter … How much was my fine?”

  “Nothing. Not a penny.”

  “Really?”

  “Angela said to tell you it’s her Christmas present to you.”

  “What an angel! I’ll make up a package of goodies for her, and you can deliver it. Don’t let me forget it tomorrow.”

  We’d no sooner ended our conversation when Smoky Joe started scratching at my office door. As soon as I let him in, he ran to his dish, expecting me to feed him his afternoon meal. I filled it with kibble and stroked him as he ate.

  “And what have you been up to, racing around the library?” I asked.

  He turned to stare at me, then resumed eating. He licked the plate clean, then used his litter box. That accomplished, he ran to the door as if he had an important appointment. I, his loyal servant, opened it, and off he went frolicking again. You have some wonderful life, Smoky Joe.

  I found myself replaying my conversation with John. He was an astute interviewer, I decided, knowing which questions to ask and when to repeat them. This afternoon he’d helped jog my memory regarding the color of my assailant’s jacket. I’d caught a flash of his sleeve, remembered it was navy. Dark blue.

  I made a mental run-through of the suspects and their clothing. Dina’s jacket was navy. So was Chris’s. Or was it black? Paul Darby’s jacket was dark blue.

  And my father’s was too.

  Besides, people often had more than one winter jacket. I gave a sigh of exasperation. So much for that helpful bit of information.

  Trish returned and we chatted a bit. The carolers would soon be arriving to serenade us in the reading room. As their presentation required no preparation, and nothing in my office required my immediate attention, I decided to pay Angela a visit at the circulation desk.

  She was busy checking out films for a lineup of patrons. When she noticed me standing to the side of the counter, she nodded in a way that told me she had something to tell me.

  As soon as she was free, I asked what had happened.

  “I ran into Jennifer in the bathroom. She was in tears.”

  “That’s interesting,” I said. “John Mathers came to see me after we had lunch. Jennifer was next on his agenda.”

  “Whatever they talked about must have upset her,” Angela said.

  “Maybe we should try to calm her down,” I said.

  Angela laughed. “So you can find out what he said to her that upset her so much.”

  “That too. I think she knows more than she’s saying.”

  Just then an elderly couple stopped at the circulation desk with a load of films they wanted to check out.

  “Talk to you later,” I said and let Angela do her job.

  How to pose my questions without upsetting Jennifer again? I pondered the matter as I walked toward the coffee shop. Did you know about the gems? Did you kill Benton? Are you in cahoots with your husband?

  I stumbled as a flash of gray sped by.

  “Smoky Joe!” I called after him. “Where are you off to?”

  I stopped to watch him make a mad dash toward the wall under the window of the reading room as a tiny creature disappeared inside the metal grating that was part of the library’s heat and air conditioning system.

  I’d just seen the mouse! Or one of them.

  I walked over to Smoky Joe, who sat sniffing the metal grating, and knelt beside him.

  “Sorry, kiddo, he’s gone. There’s no point in waiting around for him to show up again.”

  I swear, it was as if he understood exactly what I’d been saying. Smoky Joe looked at me and at the grate, then trotted off in the direction of the coffee shop. Somehow his feline brain had figured out the mice were free to travel inside the library walls and used the grates as doorways to enter and exit the library. He knew that the grate at the rear of the coffee shop was their favorite and that was where he was heading. Exactly what Jennifer didn’t want. She’d made it very clear that he’d been a pest recently. Today was her last day working at the coffee shop, and she didn’t need him underfoot

  He slowed down as he approached the seating area. Three of the five small round tables were occupied. Jennifer stood talking to someone seated at the table in the far corner. Though her back was to me, I knew she was agitated by the way she waved her arms about to get a point across.

  Don’t turn around! I silently instructed her. I’ll grab Smoky Joe and get him out of your way.

  “Smoky Joe, come here!” I called softly.

  The little devil turned his head to look at me. Then, very slowly, he ambled over to the middle-aged couple seated at one of the tables. He lifted a paw to the knee of the gray-haired woman.

  “Why, hello, kitty cat,” she crooned as she stroked his back. “I was wondering where you’ve been.”

  Smoky Joe’s purrs were louder than a locomotive. My mouth fell open as the woman broke off a piece of her cake and placed it in her outstretched hand.

  “Please don’t feed—” I began, but it was too late. Smoky Joe had gobbled it up.

  So this was why he loved coming to the coffee shop! He’d learned to beg for food! And the patrons were only too happy to feed him. God only knew what he’d been eating this past month.

  The woman caught my expression of outrage. “Oh, sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

  “There are signs are all over the library instructing people not to feed the library cat!”

  “Well, it is the holiday season,” she said, as if that excused her behavior.

  Her husband sent me an apologetic glance and told his wife it was time they got going. They stood and left.

  Smoky Joe padded over to the young bearded man at the next table and put his paw on his leg.

  The young man laughed. “I have nothing for you, pal.” He stood and tossed his Styrofoam cup in the garbage and left.

  That feline had his routine down pat! I heard what sounded like a little squeak. Smoky Joe’s ears perked up.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Jennifer shrieked.


  We both stared at Smoky Joe as he dashed behind the counter.

  “Sorry,” I said over my shoulder as I ran after him.

  “Don’t!” Jennifer shouted, chasing after me.

  It was tight behind the counter, which, except for the doorway, was actually two sections. The narrower back section was where the shop’s supplies were kept on shelves along the wall. Smoky Joe wasn’t interested in coffee filters or packages of cookies. The lighting was poor back here, but there was no missing the way he hovered over the grating, staring into its depths.

  “Carrie, get out! You’re not supposed to go behind the counter!” Jennifer sounded desperate as she tugged on my arm.

  “I just want to get him out of your way,” I said, yanking my arm free of her frantic grip. I reached down to pick up Smoky Joe, when he nimbly jumped across the grating.

  “Come here!” I yelled, stepping on the grating so I could get a firm hold on him. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. I’ll have him in a minute, and then…”

  And then I saw the chamois leather jeweler’s bag lying on the shallow floor of the heat register. For a moment, all I could do was gulp down air. I lifted the ornate wrought iron grill and picked up the bag. The gems weighed more than I’d expected.

  I leaped to my feet and glared at Jennifer. “You had them all this time!”

  “They’re mine! Hand them over,” she said.

  “Are you kidding? Three people have been murdered. These are going straight to the police.”

  “Benton gave them to me, to start our life together.” Jennifer lunged forward and tried to grab the bag of gems. “He’s dead and now they’re mine, for my new life in Manhattan.”

  I held the bag high and out of her reach as I staggered back. The wall broke my fall, but I was trapped in the narrow space.

  Smoky Joe meowed as he ran out. It was enough to distract Jennifer. I pushed past her toward the opening. As soon as I rounded the counter, I’d be safe! There would be people around, people to stop Jennifer as I called John to come and arrest her.

  “I’ll take those before you spill them all over the floor.”

  I halted dead in my tracks as Chris Crowley seized the bag of gems from my nerveless fingers.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Stop him!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  Patrons came to see what was the matter, but despite his bulky frame, Chris dodged around them like a star quarterback making a touchdown. Only his goal was the front door.

  Sally was the first to reach me. “What’s all the fuss about?” she asked.

  “Call the police! Chris Crowley just ran off with the missing gems.”

  We both turned to gape at Jennifer, who had collapsed at one of the tables, her face in her hands as she sobbed.

  “I’ll make the call,” Sally said, reaching into her cardigan pocket for her cell phone.

  Angela joined us. “Jennifer had them all this time?”

  I nodded. “She’d hidden them in the grate at the back of the coffee shop. I went to get Smoky Joe, who was chasing a mouse, and found them.”

  Angela gave me a friendly punch on the arm. “I suppose that means you get the reward.”

  “I don’t know about that, since Chris Crowley has run off with them.” I grabbed Angela’s arm. “Chris is the murderer! He must have realized Jennifer had the gems and came here demanding that she hand them over. I noticed she was talking to someone, but I couldn’t see who it was. She was clearly distressed, probably doing her best to convince Chris that she didn’t have them, when I had to announce I’d found the gems and practically handed them to him on a plate.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought of how stupid I’d been. Angela sat me down at a table. “Carrie, stop beating yourself up.”

  I shook my head. “I had no idea who she was talking to. I should have been more careful.”

  “The police will find him.”

  “Not if he gets to a fence right away. He probably knows one or two. And he has money now. He can fly off anywhere in the world.”

  Sally came over to us. “John is on his way. He asked me to keep Jennifer here if I could.”

  We looked at her hunched in a chair. “I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” I said.

  I suddenly had an idea. I jumped to my feet. “Sally, I have to leave.”

  “Why? Where are you going?”

  I ignored her questions and turned to Angela. “Please take Smoky Joe home with you.”

  “Will do.”

  “What are you up to, Carrie?” Sally demanded. “You’re not chasing after a murderer, are you?”

  “Merry Christmas!” I shouted, hugging each of them in turn. “Talk to you both later.”

  I rushed out to my car and pressed the ignition button. As I exited the parking lot, I called Dylan. “Where are you?” I asked when I heard his voice.

  “Almost home. Your father managed to wrangle an escort down to the main lobby. Be there in five minutes. Why?”

  “Smoky Joe found the gems! Jennifer had them hidden inside a heat register in the library’s coffee shop.”

  “That’s great! Did you call John?”

  “He’s on his way to the library to question Jennifer.”

  “I’ll come by as soon as I drop off your dad.”

  “Don’t come to the library! Chris Crowley has the gems! I didn’t realize he was in the coffee shop when this happened. He grabbed the bag of gems and took off.”

  “Damn! You’re saying Crowley has them? And now he’s in the wind?”

  “Dylan, I think I know where he went.”

  “Where?”

  I drew in a deep breath, knowing what was coming. “To see Dina Parr. He’s crazy about her. I think Chris thinks that if he shows Dina he has the gems, she’ll be willing to go all in with him.”

  “I know where the Parrs live. Soon as I drop off your father, I’ll head over there.”

  I heard Jim saying he was going with him; then both of them were shouting.

  “Meet me there now,” I said.

  “I’m on my way, but promise me you’re not planning to go there yourself. If Crowley’s the killer, he’s already taken down three people for these gems and won’t hesitate to kill you too.”

  I shuddered. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll wait for you outside the house.”

  “No, Carrie. Don’t—”

  I disconnected the call and drove on. Why am I chasing after Chris Crowley? I asked myself. I couldn’t capture him myself or retrieve the gems. If he caught sight of me, I was in mortal danger. But would he try to kill me in broad daylight? Not in front of witnesses and not in front of Dina, who he loved.

  I called John’s cell phone. He picked up immediately.

  “Can’t talk, Carrie. I’m on my way to the library to talk to Jennifer Darby.”

  “John, Chris Crowley swiped the gems and ran. I think he’s on his way to see Dina Parr.”

  “I’ll send Danny Brower to the Parrs’ house on the chance that you’re right.”

  “Dylan’s on his way there.”

  “Carrie, you’d better not be thinking of going there too. I don’t want you involved in more homicides. You remember what happened last time. Stay put!”

  “I’m not in—” I tried to tell him, but he’d already hung up.

  I drove on, anticipation becoming excitement. Dylan and John have no reason to worry about me, I told myself. I had no intention of doing anything stupid. Right now Chris was as dangerous as a grizzly bear. He’d killed three people and believed the gems were his entrée to a new life—providing the funds to open his own jewelry store and winning Dina back. I’d remain out of sight while John and Danny captured him, but I had to witness the last act of this drama I’d been a part of and helped to screw up.

  The Parrs lived a few miles east of Clover Ridge’s center village, in a lovely residential area. As I approached the brick-and-stone, colonial-style house, I counted two cars in the driveway and three
parked in the street in front of the house. Of course! Close friends and relatives must have stopped by, even though the funeral wasn’t for another two days. I parked on the other side of the street, then crossed and followed the cement path to the Parr’s front door. I was about to ring the bell, when a guy in his early twenties stepped outside, an unlit cigarette in his hand.

  “Are you a friend of Dina’s?” he asked. “She’s out back talking to this weird dude.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He lit his cigarette, then reached into his pocket for his cell phone as he continued walking down the path toward one of the cars. I looked up and down the street. No cars were approaching. No big surprise since it would take Dylan and Danny ten or twelve minutes to get here.

  I decided to walk around to the back of the house. Tall evergreen bushes hugged the side of the house, giving me good cover. I peered around to the patio where Dina and Chris were having a heated discussion.

  “I told you, Chris, I’m not interested. Can I make it any clearer? I have a ton of paperwork to see to now that both my parents are gone. I can’t even think of starting a new business.”

  “But I’ll do all the purchasing,” Chris wheedled. “You won’t have to do anything involving the store until you’re ready to start working. I’ll set everything up—though I’ll run important decisions by you, of course.”

  “Chris, I’ve told you before. I don’t want to be your partner in any way, shape, or form. I can’t believe you’re haranguing me about it today. My mother’s just been murdered. I have to go back inside and finish making funeral arrangements.”

  When she stepped toward the door, he tugged on her arm. “I have the gems.” His voice was hoarse with emotion.

  “What did you say?” Dina turned slowly to gawk at him.

  “I have them right here. Want to see them?”

  He reached inside his jacket and brought out the chamois bag of gems.

  Her eyes never left his face. “How did you find them?”

  Chris laughed. “I went to see Jennifer Darby. After checking out every possible place, I figured your father must have given them to her. And I was right! The idiot stashed them in the library until she was ready to leave town. Luckily, I—”