Murder by the Book

by Lauren Elliott

  “Yup. Haven’t had one of those in years.”

  “Who and what was the protest?”

  “Well,” he said, and leaned back and stroked his chin, “your neighbor, Martha, has it in her head that you are the leader of a major crime ring and is demanding the town shut you down.”

  Addie stared disbelievingly at him. “You’re kidding.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Nope. She got a few of her cronies together, and they staged a protest, complete with signs and chants telling the townsfolk to force you out.”

  Addie dropped onto a counter stool. “So her petition wasn’t enough. Now she has to publicly humiliate me.”

  “Yup.” He rocked back on his heels.

  “That’s not all though, is it?”

  “I knew you were smart.” He winked and brought his hand out as if he wanted to touch her flushed cheek. Instead, he dropped it back to his side. “Paige went out to tell them to leave and got into an altercation with Martha, and then Serena went out to break that up, and . . . well, long story short, it ended in a full-out sidewalk brawl.”

  Addie scrubbed her hands over her face. The next time she saw Martha, she’d . . . she’d . . .

  “That’s why I didn’t get here sooner. I couldn’t hear my text alert over the noise.” Marc’s voice broke into her thoughts of revenge.

  “I can’t believe this.” She shook her head. “If Martha ever knew the truth about what’s been going on, she’d have a lot more fuel for her fire, wouldn’t she?” She sighed and leaned on the counter, her chin cupped in her hand.

  Marc patted her on the back. “Keep your chin up.” He slid onto the stool beside her. “We now have a few other pieces of the puzzle, which takes us one step closer to ending this whole mess once and for all.”

  “Yes, and the big one now seems to be a mysterious book.” She twirled the carving knife in circles on the counter.

  “Yes, the book.” He placed his hand over hers, stopping the knife from swirling. “Remind me to never really get on your bad side.”

  “I’m not sure I could use it, even if I had to.” Her eyes dropped to the blade in front of her.

  “You’d be surprised what people can do when they have to.”

  “Yes, I guess, but we now have to figure out what this book is and why it’s so valuable that even a gold- and gem-covered box wasn’t enough to make the two women happy.”

  “Were you aware of any of the books your father had been tracking down for clients?”

  “None that would have been worth that much.” She shook her head. “It’s strange though.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, obviously the book had been in there, because the newspaper clippings were only six months old and were dated the day after my father was killed. Which means my aunt must have taken the book out and replaced it with them to throw off whoever she thought might come looking for it.”

  “She was a smart lady.” He patted her hand.

  “And smart enough not to keep the key anywhere it would be found, which is why she gave it to my father.”

  “Who then gave it to Raymond, but he also told Catherine about the package just so someone else would know Raymond had it.”

  “Yes . . . and probably because he knew he was being followed by someone who was onto the book.”

  “Then he’s killed because somehow the thieves knew your aunt gave him the key when he left her place, right before his accident.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Right, but because of the fiery crash, which maybe they didn’t count on, they assumed it had been lost and they’d have to go directly after the box. They were probably planning to smash it if they had to so they could get to the book.” She chewed her lip and drummed her fingers on the counter.

  “But that would have destroyed the box, and it’s worth a lot of money itself, and you said the older woman knew that you had the key. But how?” His brow furrowed.

  “And how did my aunt open the box the day after she’d given my father the key? You know, when she replaced the book with the newspaper clippings. There must be a second key hidden somewhere. Arg, I don’t know anymore.” Addie groaned and put her head on the counter. “It’s so confusing.” Marc lightly caressed her hair. If she were a cat, she would have started purring. Instead, she glanced sideways at him. “I wonder who my aunt would have told about the key and the book? She seems too smart to have shared something so important with just anyone.” Her head shot up.

  “Raymond,” they cried in unison.

  “That must be it. He was her lawyer for years. Why wouldn’t she trust him?” Addie clasped Marc’s hand in hers. His warm gaze fell on her. She let her hand fall from his.

  He stroked his chin. “I wonder if your father suspected Raymond might not be so trustworthy, and that’s why he told Catherine about the package in the first place.”

  “And why Raymond never got the security system installed. He wanted to make sure they, whoever they are, would have had plenty of opportunity to search her house.” She stared at the countertop.

  “Yes, after all, she was an elderly woman living on her own, and if they were such good friends, besides him being her lawyer—”

  “He might have had another key to her house?” She looked at him. “But then if he did have a key, why was my back door smashed open?” She bit her lip.

  Marc sucked in air between his teeth. “Maybe Raymond did double-cross them somehow.”

  “Which is why he was murdered.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Addie arrived back at her shop to find Serena and Paige hunched over the counter, deep in conversation. Her eyes widened when Paige turned to greet her.

  “You have a bruise coming up on your jaw, Paige.”

  “Don’t worry about me. My mother’s needed a good hair-pulling for a long time. Although, I never realized she had such a solid right hook.” Paige rubbed her chin.

  “Look, I really don’t want to come between you and your mother. If you’re having second thoughts about working for me, I’d understand.”

  “No, of course not.” She grinned. “It’s the best job I’ve ever had.” She gathered up her belongings. “See you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder from the door.

  Addie shook her head and studied Serena. “And what about you? Any battle scars?”

  “No, I fared pretty well, although it was fun to pin Ingrid Smith from the Dollar Store down on the sidewalk.”

  “What? Oh, it sounds like such a mess.”

  “You’ll be able to watch it on the news tonight. Television crews were here and everything.”

  “No.” Addie slumped into a counter stool. “I want publicity for the store, but not this kind.”

  “Well, you know what they say.” Serena tossed her paper cup into the trash and stood up. “‘All publicity is good publicity.’”

  Addie groaned. “They may as well have been selling cotton candy and caramel corn to bystanders.”

  “Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Serena plopped back onto her stool. “I forgot to ask. How come Marc grabbed a couple of the guys and tore out of here so fast? He mumbled your name and left.”

  Addie sighed and told Serena about her lunch guests and her afternoon adventures. Serena’s face paled and her mouth gaped open, but she didn’t say a word until Addie scrubbed her hands over her face and growled.

  “Wow, that’s incredible. How are you feeling? A gun, jeez.” She shook her head and clasped Addie’s hand. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

  “Thank you.” Addie smiled. “I think I’m okay though.”

  Serena eyed her warily.

  “But it’s too bad the whole thing isn’t over.”

  “Why, isn’t it? You know who the women are now, so I’m sure Marc will catch them soon.”

  “Yes, but the older woman said she was more interested in a book that was supposed to be inside the box. I’ve been wracking my brain to think what books would be wor
th more than a box covered in diamonds.”

  Serena’s eyes widened. “Are they large ones?”

  “No, tiny, but there are quite a few of them, and they’re inlaid in gold, so the box must be worth a fortune, but she said the book she was after was worth more than it.” Addie tapped her finger to her forehead. “Hmmm. The only one I can think of would be a 1455 first print run of the Gutenberg Bible. A single leaf is worth thousands, and a complete version—well, tens of millions. Or maybe the original journals of the Codex by Leonardo da Vinci?” She raked her hands through her hair. “I don’t know, there are a few worth more than the gems probably are, but who knows what we’re dealing with.”

  “Well, the women can’t have gotten too far. I’m sure Marc will track them down in no time, and then maybe we can find out exactly what it is they’re looking for.”

  “I hope you’re right. I need all this to end so badly, and then I can focus on saving my reputation in town.”

  Addie’s cell phone rang as Serena stood up to leave.

  “I hope that’s Marc with some good news.” Addie pulled it out of her pocket.

  Serena sat back down.

  She checked the call display. “No, it’s Roger Moore, from London. Sorry, but I have to get this.” Serena stood up again, but Addie motioned for her to stay, and she sat back down.

  “Hello. . . . Yes, Roger, this is me. You’re in town now? But I thought it wasn’t till—Oh, yes. I understand.... Sure, I can meet you at seven.... Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing you again too.... Right.... Yes, bye for now.”

  Serena dug around in her purse. “Roger? I thought he wasn’t coming until next week sometime? Voilà.” She jingled her keys from her fingers. “What’s wrong? I thought you were looking forward to seeing him?”

  “I am.” Addie rubbed her temples. “I just wasn’t expecting him to come tonight, and it’s already been a long day.” She sighed. “Well, I’ll go and hear him out and then decide if I want the job. Are you off?”

  “Yes, we’re supposed to meet my parents for dinner at Mario’s. I hope Marc makes it. He had to cancel last week ’cause of work. Oh well, guess it goes with the job.” She kissed Addie on the cheek and gave her a hug. “I’ll give him your best.” She winked and zigzagged toward the door, dodging Addie’s half-hearted slap. “Remember, I’m here if you need anything.” She closed the door behind her.

  Addie checked the time and shook her head. What was she going to do for two hours? She decided that if she went home she’d probably fall asleep, and she couldn’t go to Mario’s and grab a quick dinner, because she didn’t want Marc to think she was following him. In the end, she decided she really didn’t feel like eating now and would grab something on her way home from the meeting.

  She perched on a box in the back room and stared at the blackboard, trying to make sense of the names and links they had come up with, but she couldn’t see how all the pieces fit together. The two women were only linked with Catherine . . . and Raymond, but he was linked with everyone in town, so that was no help. It was the same with her aunt. She bit her lip and looked harder, fighting to concentrate.

  Sheila was only linked to the black Honda from Boston and the Porsche Cayenne, which Andrew owned, so there was a connection there. She focused on the white line to Andrew’s name. He was linked to Blain, who was dead, and Sheila, who was seen getting in Andrew’s car, but he couldn’t be linked to anyone else, except Elaine, who had mysteriously left town. “Arg.” She rubbed her tired eyes.

  Her appointment alert rang. She checked the time, dragged herself off the box, and stretched. “Okay, Roger, let’s hear what you have to offer.” She grabbed her purse and coat and headed off to the Grey Gull Inn.

  Addie made her way toward the main entrance and followed the arrows directing her to the open staircase that led up to the guest rooms on the second and third floors. When she got to the second-floor landing, she pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket with Roger’s room number on it and wandered down the corridor, searching for room 201.

  She came to the last door, took a deep breath, and knocked. The door slowly swung partially open, but no one greeted her. “Roger. Are you here?” She peered in and saw a small living room, and beyond that a closed door, which she assumed led into the bedroom. “It’s me, Addie. If you’re busy, I can come back.” She doubled-checked the number on the door.

  A shadow fell across the doorway, and she jumped. “Jeremy?” Her face lit up. “I had no idea you were coming.” She stepped back and looked at him. “I can’t believe you’re really here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, too?”

  He smiled down at her. “I wanted to surprise you. I ran into Roger at the airport in New York. We landed about the same time. He mentioned that he was coming to meet you—something about a contract. Since I’d gotten back a bit earlier than I thought I would, we decided it would be fun to come together so we could celebrate your accepting his offer.” He raised his shoulders and grinned. “Surprise!”

  “Best surprise ever.” She squeezed his arm. “To tell the truth, I haven’t decided about accepting it yet.” She winked. “But never mind that, look at you. I’ve never seen you sporting facial hair before.”

  He rubbed his chin and laughed. “Oh, this? My miserable attempt at growing a beard.”

  “Well, I like it. It makes you look rugged and handsome.” She reached up and brushed strands of dark hair from his brow. “I even like the longer hair; it suits you.” She beamed up at him. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Come in. Have a seat. Do you want a drink?” He walked to the kitchenette counter and retrieved two glasses from a cupboard.

  “After this, I need one. I’m still stunned to see you.” She took a seat at the small table. “I’m shaking—look at my hands.”

  He dropped a handful of ice cubes into the glasses, turned around, and laughed. “I figured since you left Boston that it would also be a good chance to catch up with each other. What’s your poison? I have vodka and whiskey.”

  “Whatever you’re having, thanks.” She looked around the small living room. “Where’s Roger? I can’t wait to see him, too.”

  Jeremy handed her a glass and sat in the chair on the other side of the small table. “Cheers.” She lifted her glass in a toast.

  “Bottoms up.” He clinked her glass with his and then set his down. “Now, who starts with the latest news, you or me?”

  “You start. I’m sure you’ve been up to much more exciting adventures lately than I have. This is a pretty sleepy small town.” She chuckled and set her drink down, too.

  He smiled, curling his fingers around his glass and swirling his drink.

  “Where did you say Roger was?” She leaned forward. “I expected him to be here. He did say seven, didn’t he?”

  Jeremy’s steel-gray eyes bored into hers.

  A shudder rippled through her. Addie shifted on her chair and reached for her drink, but stopped. His was clear amber liquid over ice. Hers was fizzy. “So, Suzanne told me it was something to do with your sister?” She shifted back in her chair.

  “I’m more interested in hearing about you.” He reached over and clasped her hand. “It appears by the books you’ve sent me that you found some fairly good treasures in that old house.” His fingers tightened their grip.

  Her skin prickled where he touched her, and she flinched. She pulled her hand away. He grabbed her wrist.

  “Jeremy, what are you doing?” She struggled to pull free. Her eyes skimmed the room, and Jeremy’s grip on her tightened.

  She realized there weren’t any signs of Roger. She’d heard from her coworkers at the British Museum that he was an avid reader who never left home without a stack of books. In fact, it had been a joke among the staff who had traveled with him to other museums to attend their latest artifact reveals, but she saw only one book on the end table beside the sofa. She craned her neck to get a better look and gasped. It was a copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
with her store price sticker clearly visible on the cover. “I asked you what you’re doing—and where is Roger?” She jerked her arm away from him.

  Jeremy stood up and leaned across the table. The bedroom door flung open.

  “Sheila? What are—what’s going on here?” Addie leapt to her feet. “You two know each other?” She shook her head and stared at Jeremy. “I don’t understand.”

  “Come on, Jeremy, obviously doing it your way’s going to take all night. It’s time I step in.” She pulled a gun out of her jacket pocket.

  Addie sucked in a deep breath. “Jeremy? What’s this all about?”

  “Sit down.” Sheila motioned toward the chair with the gun.

  Addie sank back into the seat.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jeremy sat in his chair, too, and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I’m afraid my sister’s right.”

  “Your sister?” Addie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re British Jeremy?”

  “No,” Sheila snapped. “We’re both as American as they come. But it really didn’t hurt that I easily picked up the accent when I lived there. I fit in better and it opened a lot of professional doors for me.”

  Addie glanced from one to the other. “I don’t understand what this is all about. The two of you here? I just don’t get it.”

  “There’s nothing to get, my friend,” Sheila sneered at her. “Remember that book you found last year in a crate, the one that made you the shining star at the British Museum? You all thought at first it was the original handwritten copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”

  Addie nodded. “I remember.” Her eyes fixed on the gun in her face. “We thought it was the one that had been stolen from the British Library warehouse a year before, when it was being prepared for shipping to be on loan to Oxford.”

  “But you see, we knew better—it couldn’t have been that one.” Jeremy looked at Sheila and winked. “Because that book was safely tucked away in our possession when you made your discovery. What you may not know,” he said, leaning toward Addie, his sour breath wafting across her face, “is that my talented sister also does consulting work for the British Library and is well acquainted with their security features. She just worked her magic, and poof, it was ours.” His eyes mocked her.