Due or Die

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Well, let’s go get you a nice big, juicy steak,” she said to the puppy as she put him down on the ground. “Would you like that? Would you?”

  Heathcliff danced on his feet and hurried over to Sully’s truck. The door was still ajar and he jumped inside ready to go.

  “Well, that settles that,” Sully said. “I have a spare padlock in my truck.” He fished a lock and a key out of the storage box in the back of his truck. He handed the key to Carrie and said, “I only have the one key.”

  “That’s all right,” she said as she pocketed it. “It’s probably for the best.”

  The women watched as Sully closed the door and put the new lock on. They all headed back to the parked vehicles, where Heathcliff still sat in the truck, his tail thumping against the seat.

  “Come on, Heathcliff, we’re going home with Carrie,” Lindsey said as she patted her leg in a gesture for him to come.

  Heathcliff stayed where he was and kept wagging.

  “It’s all right,” Sully said. “I’ll give you a lift.”

  “And I’ll take Beth home and meet you there,” Carrie said.

  Lindsey turned to see both Carrie and Beth make shooing motions at her with their hands. They were matchmaking now? Seriously?

  She shook her head and climbed into Sully’s truck, wondering if the cold had caused her friends to suffer some brain damage.

  Carrie fired up her car, and she and Beth gave her a grin and a wave as they shot out of the parking lot. Yep, definitely brain damage.

  Heathcliff made himself right at home between Lindsey and Sully on the bench seat in the vintage pickup truck. Lindsey was just happy to feel the heat cranking out of the vent thawing out her toes and fingers.

  Sully climbed in and drove them out of the lot, but then stopped to run back and close and lock the gates. She was so grateful she could have cried, because the thought of going back out in the cold was almost more than she could stand.

  He climbed back in and rubbed Heathcliff’s ears before he put the truck into drive. “This is some dog you’ve got.”

  “Yes, he is,” Lindsey said, and she wrapped her arms around the puppy, grateful for his warmth. His tail thumped against the seat, and she wondered if he had been as terrified in the book drop as she had been locked in the shed.

  “Well, you’re never going to have to worry about being thrown away again,” she whispered in his ear. “You have found your forever home—with me.”

  He thumped his tail harder, let out a bark and licked her chin.

  “I take it you’re keeping him?” Sully asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “If he’ll have me.”

  “Are you kidding?” He laughed. “That dog is crazy about you.”

  “Good, because I feel the same way about him.”

  Sully turned and smiled at her. “Lucky dog.”

  Lindsey felt the bottom fall out of her stomach, so she turned and looked out the window in a feeble attempt to keep her cool.

  It was late. The center of town was quiet. The drifts from the plows had been pushed back to the edges of the road, leaving six-foot tall mounds that lined the road like a wall of white. Lindsey wondered how long it would take for all of it to melt. She hoped it happened soon or she would be walking to work for the next few weeks.

  Sully pulled up in front of her house. The car that Kim and Kyle had arrived in was parked out front. While Lindsey held the door for Heathcliff to leap out, Carrie pulled in behind her.

  Kim and Kyle and Nancy all came outside. Concern was etched in the worried lines of their faces.

  “Mom, what took you so long? We were starting to worry,” Kim asked as she reached out to help her mother up the steps.

  “Oh, well, we got locked in the shed,” she said. “Pretty silly, right?”

  “What?” Nancy asked. “Good grief, you could have caught your death. I have some stew in the Crock-Pot. Come in and eat, you, too, Sully.”

  “Yes, ma’am” he said.

  Lindsey picked the meatiest chunks out of her stew and diced them up for Heathcliff. He was wagging so hard while eating that he was making a strong breeze with his tail.

  Lindsey then attacked her own bowl. Nancy gave them heaping portions, with a chunk of fresh-baked bread. It was the best food Lindsey had ever eaten.

  Neither she nor Carrie spoke while they ate, leaving Sully to tell the tale of how he’d found them. When they finished, Carrie explained that they had been taping up boxes when the door slammed shut.

  “And locked?” Kyle asked. “Mom, I don’t want to freak you out, but that was no accident. Someone locked you in there on purpose.”

  Carrie studied her son for a moment and then her daughter. Lindsey could tell she was trying to decide what they could handle. She gave a small nod and then said, “No, I don’t think it was an accident.”

  Kim gasped. “You think someone tried to kill you?”

  “No,” Carrie said. “But scare us, yes.”

  “It worked,” Lindsey said. “I think they were counting on someone coming back to check on us when we didn’t arrive here and we would have been saved, but it all could have gone so very wrong.”

  She and Carrie both shuddered.

  “We need to report this to the police,” Sully said. “Chief Daniels will want to know.”

  “Can we call him in the morning?” Lindsey asked. “Right now I am too tired to think of anything but sleep.”

  She gathered her bowl and picked up Heathcliff’s plate from the floor. Nancy took them from her and said, “No, no dishes for you. Go to bed.”

  Lindsey would have argued but a yawn stopped her.

  “I’ll walk you up,” Sully said. He picked up Heathcliff in his arms, and the dog let out a big tongue-curling yawn of his own. He snuggled against Sully as they made their way up the stairs.

  Two flights of steps had never seemed so long, and Lindsey felt as if her legs were made of lead by the time they reached the top.

  Sully took her key and unlocked the door with one hand while still cradling the weary dog with the other. He pushed it open and followed her in. Lindsey switched on the main light, and Sully put Heathcliff down on the sofa. Then he made a cursory sweep of her apartment, checking all of the rooms and the windows. It made Lindsey feel oddly comforted, which she suspected was why he was doing it.

  “All clear,” he said. He paused in front of her and handed her keys back. He planted a swift kiss against her hair and said, “Sleep well. You’re safe now.”

  He closed the door behind him, and Lindsey immediately missed his presence in her apartment.

  “Lindsey!” he called from outside the door, making her jump. “Lock the door behind me.”

  “Oh, yeah, right,” she said. She locked the dead bolt.

  “Good night,” he called, and she heard him move to the stairs.

  “Good night,” she answered. “And thanks.”

  In a few moments, she heard the front door open and shut, and she desperately wished she’d had the nerve to invite him to stay, even if he spent the night on her couch.

  But, no, she was home and she was safe and there were other people in the house with her. She’d be fine. She heard a snore come from the direction of the couch and she smiled.

  She picked up the sleeping puppy and moved him onto her bed. She was so tired she didn’t even bother changing out of her clothes but climbed under the covers grateful for the warmth and softness that immediately enfolded her.

  The next day, Lindsey sat staring at the computer monitor in her office. She felt restless today. Her hair was having static fits, so she’d combed it back from her face and styled it in one fat braid hanging down her back.

  She had slept like the dead—probably not the best term to think of but accurate nonetheless. When she’d gotten up this morning, she couldn’t help but review in her mind who might have been responsible for locking them in the shed, and had it been a warning or had the person really hoped to cause them harm?

&
nbsp; The first person who came to mind was Batty Bilson. When Lindsey had left her apartment this morning, Chief Daniels had been at Nancy’s questioning Carrie. Lindsey had added her two cents, but she doubted it would give him enough information to do anything.

  She did an Internet search until she found the number she needed. She picked up her phone and made a quick call. She got lucky. Clyde Perkins had finished a job in town and was only a few minutes away.

  Lindsey left her office and headed out to meet Clyde in the main lobby. At a quick glance, she saw that Ms. Cole was working the front circulation desk and Beth had a gaggle of kids in the children’s area. Jessica was working the reference desk, helping a person with the copier.

  Lindsey knew Clyde the minute he walked into the building. The tool belt around his middle made it pretty easy to deduce.

  “Hi, Mr. Perkins.” She greeted him and held out her hand. “I’m Lindsey Norris.”

  His hand was thick with calluses, but as if to compensate, his grip was gentle.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Call me Clyde. Everyone does. If you call me Mr. Perkins, I’ll be looking over my shoulder for my dad.”

  “And I’m Lindsey,” she said. She supposed she shouldn’t make a snap judgment, but she liked Clyde already. She couldn’t really imagine him murdering anyone.

  “So, what was it you needed done?” he asked.

  “I need our book drop changed,” she said. “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

  She walked him over to the door that led into the book drop. She opened it and switched on the overhead light. The small room was chilly, as the metal door to the drop allowed the cold winter air into the room and there was no heating vent in there to combat the frigid temperature.

  “This is our book drop,” she said. She stepped around the thin mattress on the floor to let him see the six-foot by seven-foot room. “The mattress protects the books from damage when they come through this metal door.”

  Clyde nodded as he took in the little room and the metal slot. “And what is it you’re needing done?”

  “Well, last week someone put a puppy in the book drop,” she said. She couldn’t help the scorn that filled her voice. “He could have died from exposure or hunger. We only empty the drop a couple of times a day and we’re closed on Sundays.”

  Clyde frowned. “That’s just all-around wrong. That person should go to jail.”

  “I agree,” Lindsey said. “But since I don’t know who did it, I think my best defense is to fix the book drop so that it never happens again.”

  “How is the puppy?” he asked.

  “He’s doing fine,” Lindsey said.

  She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of Heathcliff’s morning antics in the snow. He really enjoyed bounding over the drifts, but he’d invariably land in the middle of one and it would take him a while to erupt out of it like lava out of a volcano.

  “I took him to Dr. Rubinski and he got a clean bill of health.”

  “Good, Tom’s the best.” Clyde shook his head. “I have a basset hound named Yoyo, and I just, well, I love that dog. I’d be powerfully pissed, pardon my language, if anyone harmed him.”

  Lindsey nodded in agreement.

  “Let me walk around and check it out from the front.” He left the small cold room and Lindsey waited. The drop banged open a few moments later and she saw Clyde peeking in at her. Then it shut and he arrived back in the room.

  “I can make it smaller,” he said. “Big enough to return a couple of books at a time, but not so big that any wise guys will get the idea they can put anything but books in there.”

  “That would be excellent,” Lindsey said. “Can you give me an estimate?”

  “I’ll have it to you by the end of the week,” he said.

  “Can I ask you something off the subject?” Lindsey asked. She knew it wasn’t fair to ambush him like this, but she just wasn’t sure how else she could work Did you murder Markus Rushton? into the conversation.

  “Shoot,” he said. He pulled his tape measure off his belt and began to measure the opening to the existing drop.

  “You were recommended to me by Carrie Rushton,” she said. She saw him go still at the name, and she hurried ahead so that he didn’t cut her off. “You did some work for them?”

  “Tiled a bathroom,” he said. He began measuring again, but Lindsey could see the tension in his shoulders. “Nice lady, Mrs. Rushton.”

  “She is,” Lindsey said. “She’s the president of our Friends of the Library.”

  Clyde said nothing, so she tried to sound casual as she continued, “Terrible tragedy to lose her husband like that.”

  He pulled a pad out of his back pocket and jotted down some numbers. “I suppose that depends upon whether you consider his loss an actual loss.”

  Lindsey held her breath for a moment. Was he going to say more? What could she say to encourage him? She decided to go for it.

  “Do you consider it a loss?”

  “Look, me and Mr. Rushton, we didn’t get on, as anyone will tell you,” he said. “Do I think he should have been shot? Hell, no. But do I think it’s a real tragedy? Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t. That man was lazy, selfish and mean. Mrs. Rushton is a real nice lady. She deserves better than him.”

  Lindsey nodded. She couldn’t argue the point.

  “Is that why you really called me out here? To find out if I’m a murderer?” he asked. He looked over his pad at her. His brown eyes were shrewd, and Lindsey felt a telling heat warm her cheeks.

  CHAPTER

  24

  BRIAR CREEK

  PUBLIC LIBRARY

  “I really do need the book drop fixed,” she said. It sounded lame even to her.

  “Uh-huh,” he said. Instead of anger, his voice was full of disappointment, which stung much worse than if he’d been angry. “I’ll get that estimate to you.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” she said.

  He walked around her, but in the doorway, he stopped and turned around.

  “For what it’s worth, I was working a job out at the cottages, a kitchen remodel, at the time of Rushton’s death.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to—” she began but he cut her off.

  “Yeah, you did.”

  Lindsey cringed. She was so busted. Her pained expression must have amused him, because he added, “It’s all right. Everyone knows me and Rushton were on the outs. The police asked me where I was, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lindsey said.

  Clyde shrugged as if it were no big deal, but she still felt bad that she had offended him. She watched him head toward his pickup truck. As he drove off, Beth appeared at her elbow.

  “What was Clyde Perkins doing here?”

  “I’m going to hire him to fix the book drop so that no puppies or any other critters can be shoved in it again.”

  “Good idea,” Beth said.

  “I also completely offended him by asking him about Markus Rushton’s murder.”

  “You didn’t!” Beth said.

  “’Fraid so.” Lindsey blew out a breath. “I was just following up on the incident that happened between him and Markus over the bathroom tile.”

  “How did he take it?” Beth asked.

  “I think I hurt his feelings,” Lindsey said.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow, we need to work on your interrogation skills,” Beth said. “You’re supposed to get suspects to confess, not wind up feeling guilty that you’ve offended them.”

  “Or maybe I just need to mind my own business,” Lindsey said with a sigh.

  Beth smiled. “Nah, it’s not in your nature.”

  “Clyde likes Dean Koontz, doesn’t he?” she asked. “Maybe I can make sure he’s first on the list for the next Koontz book to come out.”

  “I’m sure that would help,” Beth said.

  “Hey, what do you mean that’s not in my nature?” Lindsey asked.

  “Oh, there are so many e
xamples to choose from,” Beth said, tapping her chin with her forefinger.

  Suddenly, Lindsey was not so sure she wanted to hear it. She led the way out of the book drop and closed the door behind them. She walked toward the break room, hoping there was some go juice in the communal coffeepot to get her through the long afternoon. Beth walked beside her, obviously having no intention of going back to the children’s area as yet.

  Lindsey glanced over at the enchanted island, hoping to see a patron or five needing Beth. There were none. Darn it!

  Lindsey lifted the pot out of its holder and looked at the sludge in the bottom of the glass carafe. She poured the thick residue out and began to make a fresh pot.

  “Let’s see,” Beth said. “How about when Tammy Jankowski wasn’t going to graduate with us because they said she was a credit short?”

  “What was wrong with that?” Lindsey asked.

  “You stormed the registrar’s office. You threatened to have their job if they didn’t own up to their mistake.”

  “It’s not my fault they didn’t add up her class credits right,” Lindsey said. “They were messing with her future. She had a job lined up, and if she didn’t get her diploma on time, she would have been out of a job. They are darn lucky she didn’t sue them.”

  “True, but my point is that you were not exactly minding your own business there.”

  “Point taken, but Tammy was so painfully shy, she needed someone to give her backup.”

  “Uh-huh, and then there was the time your boss put in that time clock, and your coworker, what was her name?”

  “Gina,” Lindsey said with a sigh.

  “Gina was always late, so you would punch her card for her,” Beth said.

  “Hey, she always stayed late to make it up. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done it for her, but she was a single mom and she needed a break,” Lindsey said.

  “Yes, but the point is that you are incapable of not helping a person in distress,” Beth said. “Especially, if you think a wrong has been done. Look at how you helped me when I was being accused of murder.”

  Finally, the coffee was ready and Lindsey poured two cups and held one out to Beth.