Murder in the Stacks (A DAFFODILS Mystery)

by Mary Clay

  Alice sniffed it gingerly and was about to speak when a familiar voice came from the front doorway.

  "I gather from the smell that you're up to your old habits, Penny Sue. I'm here to see Kevin Harrington."

  Chapter 6

  Old habits die hard, or at least they do with Woody. So much for our truce. He knew the smell was from sage and cedar. We'd told him that a number of times and showed him the smudge wand in the course of several investigations. We were not dope smokers or murderers. Why couldn't he get that through his thick skull? Just because Penny Sue dumped him in college, he was determined to make our lives as miserable as possible. Never mind that we hadn't pressed charges against his demented mother for threats and property damage, or that we'd accepted his apology and thanks. He'd shown his true colors--he was a weasel.

  Kevin passed the bottle of scotch to Penny Sue and met Woody at the door. "What can I do for you?"

  Alice whipped out of the utility room holding the smudge wand and stood beside her son. "I'm Alice Harrington, Kevin's mother. What was that rude comment about the smell? It's part of an American Indian ritual. Who are you and why are you such a bigot?"

  Woody stepped back, clearly not used to being so blatantly challenged. "Uh, I'm not a bigot. I'm part American Indian myself."

  "If that's true, I'd think you'd show more respect for your ancestors' customs. Who the hell are you to come in here making snide remarks and demanding to see my son?"

  Woody looked as if he'd been punched in the gut. "I'm the local prosecutor assigned to the investigation of Dr. Abigail Johnston's death."

  "As a government employee, I'd think you'd show more respect for your employers, the taxpayers."

  Go, Alice, go, I thought.

  Woody did a palms up. "I apologize for being flip. I know Penny Sue; we go back a long way."

  Alice folded her arms and regarded him coldly. "I'm a retired government official myself, from New Jersey. Up there, a comment like that could land you in a garbage dump. I suggest that you work on your manners."

  Woody squared his shoulders. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

  Alice smiled sweetly. "No, son, merely a suggestion. Charging in like a wild animal rarely gets results."

  Silent until then, Kevin chimed in. "What do you want? We were about to sit down to dinner. I'm surprised you didn't have the courtesy to call ahead."

  Since Kevin outweighed Woody by at least seventy-five pounds, and Woody didn't have his usual contingent of uniforms, Woody caved. "I'm sorry. If this isn't a good time, I can come back tomorrow."

  Alice answered. "That's a good idea. We typically sleep late."

  We nuked the Chinese food and had a fine dinner. Guthrie's brownies, his signature dish, were even good. "No nuts," he announced, because I'd once fibbed that I was allergic to nuts, fearing his brownies were laced with real marijuana. Well, he made such a big deal about the movie Alice's Restaurant that I mistakenly thought involved spiked brownies, I was afraid to eat his. Turns out I was wrong about the movie and his brownies. They were good old Duncan Hines Double Chocolate. Of course, Guthrie later gave spiked brownies to our competitors to help us win a charity race, but he swore that was the last of his stash, and we forgave him because it was for a good cause.

  "Why do you think Woody wants to talk to me again?" Kevin asked, as Penny Sue served coffee.

  "He's torturing me," Penny Sue said, pouring a cup for Alice. "We dated a few times in college, and I dumped him. He's held a grudge ever since."

  "Seems he'd be questioning you, then," Alice said.

  "He probably will at some point. I'm sure he's using Kevin's relationship with Abby and the debate to get back at me. Woody doesn't have anything on Kevin; he's playing games."

  Aunt Alice sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "If that's the case, he's playing with fire. Anyone who messes with my son is messing with me."

  Kevin winced. "Mom, I'm sure it's nothing. Woody's merely dotting the I's and crossing the T's for his bosses. The fact that Abby and I were engaged and that she willed her research to me probably raised some eyebrows."

  "I'll bet I know one," Penny Sue said, as she dumped the last dollop of Baileys Irish Cream into her coffee. "Willows. He was at the library snooping around today. Given half a chance, I think he'd steal Abby's books and stuff."

  "Willows?" Kevin repeated. "He probably would like to get his hands on her notes, when I think about it."

  "Did you stay in touch with Abby?" Alice asked her son.

  "No! I did my best to put her out of my mind. I was stunned when I heard she was taking Willows' spot in the debate. If I'd known, I'd never have agreed to participate. The whole thing took me by surprise."

  Alice studied her coffee for a second. "Kevin, when did you find out that Abby was taking Willows' place?"

  "The day before the debate."

  "Abby had already been in New Smyrna Beach close to two weeks, according to the super at her rental agency," Alice said.

  Kevin's jaw went slack. "You think it was a set-up? Why would Willows do that? We weren't great friends, but there wasn't any animosity between us."

  Penny Sue gave Kevin her School Marm serious look. "Because you interviewed for the chairmanship of Deland University's History Department!"

  "Yes, but ..."

  "Isn't that why you came early?" Penny Sue said. "For the interviews and to get the lay of the land."

  "What are you getting at?" Kevin asked.

  "Willows is up for that spot, isn't he?" I asked.

  "I'm sure he's a candidate. But how does Abby figure into this?"

  Ruthie jumped in. "Was Abby qualified for the position?"

  "Certainly. She won the Register Award."

  "On the basis of your research," Alice added quickly.

  "Mom, what are you suggesting?"

  "Willows and Abby were in cahoots," Alice said.

  "No way," Kevin almost shouted. "They were friends, nothing more."

  "Kevin," Aunt Alice said sternly, "you're naive, always have been. You're honorable and think everyone else is. Everyone isn't."

  "If they were up for the same position, what did they have to gain by conspiring against me?"

  Alice arched a brow. "I can think of several possibilities."

  "Such as?" Kevin asked.

  "Figure it out." Alice held up her cup. "Any more of that Baileys?"

  Penny Sue fidgeted, embarrassed. "Only some cheap stuff--Saint Somebody's Irish Cream. Sorry, I'm on a tight budget."

  "That's fine, honey, it's going into coffee. I won't be able to tell the difference."

  Woody called Penny Sue's cell phone at nine the next morning and woke her up. "Why are you calling me?" she asked drowsily.

  "To make an appointment to interview Kevin Harrington."

  "He's next door," she mumbled. "I'm staying with Leigh."

  "Oh."

  I was sipping coffee at my kitchen counter next to Penny Sue's room and could hear the conversation. She'd put the phone on speaker mode as she stumbled to the bathroom.

  "Why are you tormenting him?" Penny Sue called. "Kevin loved Abby--he wouldn't hurt her. You're just being mean by scraping scabs off old wounds."

  "Penny Sue, I'm not trying to be difficult. County officials in Deland are all over me. A lady and a man died in a public building. There are potential lawsuits at stake. In spite of what you think, this isn't personal. I have to examine everything. Kevin was once engaged to Dr. Johnston, and as I understand it, their parting was acrimonious. Something about her stealing his research?"

  "Who told you that?"

  "A reputable source; that's all I can say."

  "If you want to speak with Kevin, call my condo number." Penny Sue started to recite it but he stopped her.

  "I have it. Sorry to have bothered you."

  "Woody, Kevin's mother has a lot of New Jersey contacts. Tread softly. Don't go locking Kevin up on a whim. After the Italian/Russian gang war during the hurricanes, I'm sure you know what
I mean. If Alice happened to mention this to someone, who mentioned it to someone else, who knows what could happen. Get my point?"

  "I appreciate your concern, but I'm a big boy. I know how to handle these situations."

  "I hope you do." Penny Sue flushed the toilet.

  We were loading the dishwasher when the postman arrived with an Express Letter for Penny Sue. It was the power of attorney form from her father. She gave me a guilty look as she asked to borrow Ruthie's Jaguar. "I have to get these in the mail right away," Penny Sue said.

  "You're welcome to use my car, Penny Sue," I said with a wry grin.

  "I've already imposed on you too many times. I won't be long," she said to Ruthie. "I'll just take them to the Coronado Post Office on Flagler Avenue." Ruthie nodded.

  I slapped the air playfully. "Come on, Penny Sue, admit it. My car is a tight fit for you."

  She raised her chin regally. "It is not too small; I fit in it just fine." She turned and wiggled her fanny. "The seats in Ruthie's car are softer."

  Ruthie and I took our coffee to the table on the deck. The temperature was back to normal, and a pleasant breeze blew from the south. The water was calm, at least for the Atlantic, since there were no whitecaps on the horizon.

  "This would be a good beach day. Do you have any plans?" I asked Ruthie.

  "Kevin and I may start sorting and cataloguing Abby's books. He suspects he may already have a number of them and intends to donate duplicates to the library."

  "You really like him, don't you?"

  Ruthie's pale cheeks flamed. "Yes, I do. He's smart and a kind, gentle soul. I've been waiting for someone like him for a long time. I was beginning to believe such men didn't exist. I felt like I knew him the moment we met."

  Wow. Her statement was a shocker. I knew they were attracted to each other, but I had no inkling of the depth of Ruthie's feelings. "Do you think you'd ever remarry?"

  She stared at a sailboat on the horizon. "Maybe, if I got a proposal from the right man."

  "Is Kevin right?"

  "I believe he is, but marriage is a two way street." She glanced across the top of her coffee cup. "Actually, at our age, people live together. There's not much sense in getting married, since I certainly don't plan to have children."

  I smiled. It was music to my ears to hear Ruthie say she'd even consider living with a man, because I had a feeling a proposal was in the offing. Kevin was a methodical man who, like Ruthie, had been burned in love before. He was merely taking his time. The recent mess didn't help matters any. "I don't doubt that a proposal will come, in time. But Kevin teaches at Columbia University. Would you be willing to move to New York City?"

  Ruthie took a sip of her coffee. "I have plenty of money, so we could afford a place in the suburbs. Besides, I believe Kevin will get the chairmanship at Deland University, in which case we'll live down here."

  "I'd love that! My fingers are crossed for you both. I hope Abby's death and Willows don't mess up the deal. Do you really think they were in cahoots? What does your intuition say?"

  "I think there was something between them, but it's more complicated than we know." Ruthie paused in thought. "I can't put my finger on it. In some way, they were both enemies and allies. But I feel certain that Willows is feeding information to Woody to make Kevin look guilty. How else would Woody know that Kevin and Abby were once engaged?"

  "Yeah, I had the same thought about Willows. Maybe he and Abby were allies to embarrass Kevin in the debate, but enemies over the chairmanship," I ventured.

  "Could be, but we don't know for sure that Abby was a candidate for the position."

  "Didn't you say she brought three business outfits?" I asked.

  "Yes. Abby only needed one for the debate. Maybe the others were for job interviews. She also brought a lot of resort wear," Ruthie said.

  I noticed sea gulls headed our way and instinctively ducked and covered my coffee. The reaction went back to our college days, when a flock of birds dropped a stinky load on Penny Sue's head that slopped into her drink.

  Ruthie noticed my reaction and started to laugh. "Thank goodness we dodged that bullet," she said, gazing at the birds flying into the distance. "You know, since the Founders' Day Committee was paying for Abby's plane ticket, maybe she simply decided to make a vacation of the trip."

  "True," I conceded.

  We sat in silence for a long while, enjoying the warmth of the sun and beauty of the pristine beach. Suddenly, the realization hit me that Penny Sue would return any minute. There was something I'd been dying to ask Ruthie and preferred to ask without Penny Sue's presence. "Ruthie, tell me if I'm being too nosey, but I'm curious. Since Kevin arrived, I've noticed that you've started venturing out on your own. Where do you go? Are you just riding around to clear your head and gather your thoughts?"

  Ruthie's face lit up. "I'm looking for a place to open a bookstore. You know, there isn't one on the island, and I think I've found the perfect place. There's a vacant lot on Flagler Avenue, midway down, close to the coffee shop and that new deli. I'm going to call it Hungry for Knowledge, and there'll be an area with tables so people can bring their coffee and sandwiches from the local delis to eat while they peruse books. I visited a store like that in Colorado and loved it."

  "Ruthie, that's brilliant and perfect for a former librarian! How long have you had this idea?"

  "Since Kevin came home from his interview. At that moment I just knew he'd get the position, and I'd move to New Smyrna Beach."

  "You never said a word about it!"

  "There's a New Age adage that talking dissipates energy while silence gathers it in. I wanted the energy to build up for this idea, because it feels so right. Please don't tell Penny Sue; you know she can't keep a secret. With her big mouth, my store's energy will spread to the four corners of the globe."

  No sooner had the words left Ruthie's mouth than the front door banged open. "Hey, y'all. I picked up a six pack and some hoagies for lunch from Publix supermarket. Leigh, your friend Jennette says 'hi.'"

  We ate lunch on the deck, enjoying the sun and generally speculating on the causes of Abby's and the other man's deaths. We resorted to calling him the other man because of Ruthie's strident objection that he was not a bum, even though bum was the consensus of the library staff. Whatever. Our discussion was pure speculation since we had no facts, so it went nowhere until an evaluation of the debate and the agitated realtor who slugged a New Smyrna Commissioner came up. It was then that Penny Sue remembered her meeting with Peter O'Brien and his intention to return to the library for Wii bowling.

  "To be so angry, that realtor must have had a lot at stake. I think we need to check him out," I said.

  Ruthie nodded. "Could be. He was unusually agitated."

  Penny Sue's eyes sparkled. "I can do that. Peter, the guy's boss, is going to play Wii bowling today." She glanced at the clock. "I need to change, but I can make it if I hurry. I'll see what I can wheedle out of Peter. Don't worry if I miss dinner. I'll try to get him to go for drinks." She changed into a low cut blouse and capris.

  "You can take my car," Ruthie shouted as Penny Sue charged out at a fast trot.

  Ruthie and I exchanged a knowing glance. Only a wealthy, good looking man could draw such a fast response from Penny Sue.

  Chapter 7

  "Is everyone decent? I've got a good looking man with me!" Penny Sue hollered as she opened the front door.

  Ruthie and I were watching CSI reruns in the living room. It was nine o'clock, and the tone of Penny Sue's voice told us she'd had a glass or three of wine. She and Peter O'Brien, the St. Augustine realtor who was Willows' friend, appeared a moment later. Peter was lugging a cardboard box that was obviously heavy, since his face was pinched with effort. Penny Sue made quick introductions, which were about a minute too long for Peter.

  "Where should I put this?" Peter asked, perspiration starting to bead on his face and drip into the box.

  I almost said, "In Penny Sue's bedroom," then real
ized her room was probably a wreck with underwear draped over the lampshade or hanging from a door handle. I motioned to a corner of the dining area. "That corner's fine for now. What is it?"

  Penny Sue was already in the kitchen area of my great room fumbling with Mr. Coffee. She motioned to a barstool. "Peter, have a seat. Let me make some coffee. You have a long drive ahead."

  He sat at the far end of the bar, angled so he could see us all. "That would be nice," he said to Penny Sue. Then to us, "The box is full of books."

  "Would y'all like some?" Penny Sue asked. "Caffeinated. Peter needs to stay awake." Ruthie and I declined. We didn't need to stay awake; under normal circumstances, this was close to our bedtime. Penny Sue finished scooping coffee grounds and dumped in water. A moment later, the rich smell of French vanilla coffee filled the room. "We ran into Woody as we were leaving the library. They've finished the on-site investigation. These are the research materials Abby dropped when she ...well, you know. He gave them to me to take to Kevin, said it would save him a trip. Tacky, if you ask me. Woody is just plain lazy."

  I wanted to follow up with questions about the investigation, but thought better of it, seeing how Peter was from St. Augustine. It's not that I thought Peter had anything to do with Abby's death; still, he was on the opposing side of the First City debate and probably not a big fan of Kevin and his theory. No sense dragging up controversial subjects. "Have you been bowling all this time?"

  Penny Sue blew on her coffee before taking a sip. "No, we bowled a couple of hours, then went to the Riverview for dinner. You know, Wii bowling is really fun, almost like the real thing." She gave Peter a saucy wink. "Mr. O'Brien won the roll-off. He can put spin on the ball and everything."

  Spinning the ball wasn't his only talent. Peter had obviously spun Penny Sue's head. Her true soul mate, Rich, was at least temporarily forgotten.

  "Y'all should come next week," Penny Sue went on. "I think you'd like it. Your clothes don't get dirty and you don't have to wear those ugly, smelly shoes they have in real bowling alleys. There's another tournament next week and Peter's coming.