Murder by the Bookend

by Laura Gail Black

  “I do feel more funding of the animal shelter could stop this problem, don’t you?”

  Uh-oh. I had no clue what he was talking about, and I racked my brain for a vague way to answer that wouldn’t let him know I’d been ignoring him. “I think any extra money the shelter receives would help every problem they face, Mr. Prescott.”

  He nodded as if I’d just said something extremely wise, and I wondered if he really thought I was that smart or, more likely, if he was too seasoned a politician to risk making a constituent feel foolish by pointing out her lack of attention based on her weak answer.

  When he took a deep breath, as if to launch into another speech on his platform, I jumped in, cutting him off. “Here comes Mr. Talbot now with Eddy. I’m sure he’d love to hear about your ideas on animal rights.” I gestured toward the approaching duo.

  Bradford turned to see Linus approaching, and he paled a bit and took a step back when Eddy raised his hackles. A low, humming growl rumbled in the dog’s chest.

  Linus knelt and spoke softly, settling Eddy before rising to speak to the politician, a cold look on his face. “I see you’re still using that hypocritical platform to get elected.”

  Fire flashed in Bradford’s eyes, and his jaw clenched for a brief moment. He seemed to gather himself, relaxing his jaw and smiling before speaking in the silky tones he used to sway others to his point of view. “I would have hoped by now you would either have taught that dog manners or put him down.”

  My brows shot up, my moth dropped open, and a gasp burst from my throat. What the hell?

  Bradford turned and placed a hand on my arm in a way I assumed he meant to be comforting rather than sending an icky chill up my spine. “This animal’s a known danger to others. I hadn’t realized it was this particular dog when I saw him across the room. I truly hate to see any animal put to sleep, which is why I adamantly support having no-kill animal shelters. However, dangerous animals, such as this dog, should not be allowed to threaten the safety and security of the good people of this city.”

  Linus’s voice came out in a low rumble, sounding remarkably like Eddy’s growl. “You lying sack of slime. We both know where this dog came from, and after tomorrow, so will a great many more people.”

  Chapter Two

  Bradford blanched again, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Now see here! You have no right to slander me publicly!”

  Oh crap! The loud voices were drawing people’s attention. This was not how I wanted the evening to go. A spectacle had definitely not been on the agenda.

  “I have every right, especially when it’s not slander.” Linus reached down to stroke Eddy and moved off into the crowd, leaving me to pacify the agitated politician.

  At least it was over for now. I scanned the crowd, saw Keith making his way toward me through the onlookers, and shook my head. He stopped, eyebrows raised. I mouthed, I’ve got this, and he nodded once and stopped to talk to someone who seemed to want to gossip about what had just happened as she gestured wildly in our direction.

  I refocused my attention on Bradford, who had returned to a more normal color and was blotting the light sheen of sweat from his forehead. Becky patted his arm, cooing words I couldn’t hear, and he seemed to take strength from them.

  “Mr. Prescott, since I run a bookstore, I’d like to hear more about what you might do for small business owners if you’re elected to the legislature.” Thank goodness I’d come up with something that might pull his attention away from the run-in with Linus.

  A few other guests moved closer, and the suave politician persona came to the fore, his dulcet tones instilling confidence in the listener. I listened long enough to be polite before I moved away, rolling my eyes when I heard someone who apparently had no clue what had just happened drag him back into talking about his shelter policies by saying, “Isn’t it wonderful the owner allows dogs into her store?” I hoped it didn’t trigger another scene.

  I eased my way through the room to the refreshment table, jonesing for a cup of java. I arrived at the same time as Rita, who was bringing two fresh pots of coffee from the back, and I held the urn open while she poured in the aromatic liquid. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you tonight.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Rita smiled, took the empty coffeepots, and grabbed a couple of empty wine bottles, careful to hold them away from the emerald-green dress that emphasized her voluptuous curves. “Go mingle. I’ve got this covered.”

  “I owe you one,” I said as she walked away.

  I smiled at the “Oh yeah, in a big way” she tossed over her shoulder on her way to the back room.

  Holding a Twice Upon a Time mug under the spigot, I let the aromatic brew flow. I’d used beans from a local company, figuring if I wanted them to buy my books, I needed to support their business as well. The little bit extra I paid for the coffee turned out to be more than worth it. The smell and taste were out of this world. I blew across the hot liquid until it cooled enough to take a tiny sip without peeling my tongue, and the flavor slid through my mouth, awakening my senses and giving me just the pick-me-up I needed.

  I sighed, wishing I could simply stand here a while and enjoy the sensations, but I was a hostess tonight, and I had guests to keep happy. I turned and scanned the room and noticed a woman standing alone, looking uncomfortable in her baby-pink dress. Her full figure was not flattered by the profusion of ruffles or the puffy sleeves on the outdated style, and her frizzy, mousy-brown hair showed streaks of gray. As I approached, she stared deeply into her own coffee cup, her eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

  When I was close enough, I cleared my throat, hoping not to startle her into sloshing her coffee all over the books. “Is there a specific area of interest I could show you? Things are arranged a bit differently from when Uncle Paul was here.”

  “You must be Jenna Quinn.” The woman’s face erupted into a smile that brought beauty to her round face. “I’m Alice King. And yes, Paul did keep things in a piled heap. It’s why I never came into the shop just to browse. I couldn’t stand the mess. He would call me if he found something he knew I’d want, and I’d pop over to pick it up.”

  “I’m glad you joined us tonight, Ms. King.” I racked my brain, and while I remembered the name from the card file Uncle Paul had kept on his best customers, I couldn’t recall what types of books the plump woman preferred. “I hope you’ll visit more often now that things are a bit more neat and orderly.”

  “I will, thanks. But it’s just Alice. ‘Ms. King’ makes me remember how old I am. I prefer to think of myself as much younger.” She giggled, making the rows and rows of ruffles bounce up and down like a swarm of butterflies.

  Well, at least one person seemed to be having a nice time. “Is there anything I can help you find?”

  “Poetry.”

  “Right this way.” I led the woman to the correct section and pointed out shelves containing such authors as Tennyson, Shakespeare, Byron, and Shelley. “We do also have a few nice editions on an endcap.”

  Alice followed me to the end of one row where I’d set up a display of elegantly bound antique books. As I reached and pulled a book from its shelf, a flurry of movement caught my eye. A woman swept past, and her swinging purse strap snagged the corner of the book in my hand and sent it flying to the floor, where it landed on its edge.

  I gently picked up the book, eyeing its damaged spine, and whirled to see who had been responsible. I should’ve known. Selina March. Before I could say anything, the woman whirled on me.

  “How dare you stick that book out in my way! It could have damaged my Gucci handbag. Do you know how much this would have cost you to replace if it had?” The woman’s voice carried through the store as she shook her handbag at me.

  I drew on my mother’s lessons in manners and counted to ten before I replied. “Mrs. March, you knocked the book out of my hand, and I would appreciate it if you would pay for the damage.”

  “Pay for
it? You must be joking. I have absolutely no intention of paying for that piece of junk.” She rounded on Alice and sneered. “Why don’t you buy it? Maybe you could pawn it off on someone else and make a few bucks.”

  Alice’s face lost all color, and she took a step back. “How dare you?” Her voice came out in a raspy whisper.

  “I’m terribly sorry.” Douglas stepped from behind the shelf. “I’ll pay for the book. How much is it?” He pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket.

  I peeked inside the cover for the cost code I’d lightly penciled in a corner. Although not a low price, at least it wasn’t hugely expensive. “Mr. March, it’s—”

  “You will not buy that book!” Selina’s screech silenced the whispers of the crowd that had gathered. “I did nothing wrong.”

  Linus pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered to see the spectacle. “I may be able to fix the book. It won’t be the first one I’ve had to repair due to this woman. However, as always, it will drop the value.”

  “Those were not my fault!” Selina’s voice continued to rise in pitch and volume. “I’ll have you fired if you keep saying they were!”

  Eddy stepped between Linus and Selina, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

  Good grief, first the state legislature candidate and now Selina March? Was it a good idea to have animals in the store? I looked up to see Keith working his way through the crowd, and this time I didn’t wave him away. I might need backup, although I did wonder whether I should ask Linus to take the dog home or ask Douglas to take his wife home. After all, the dog was simply protecting his master from a screaming banshee.

  Selina took a step back, her voice rising yet again. “Keep that mangy mutt away from me! He’s probably the one who tore up those books, and you’re trying to blame it on me!”

  Linus reached to stroke Eddy’s head, calming the dog, and gave him a quiet command to sit. The dog immediately obeyed, and Linus focused on Selina. “If they weren’t your fault, why did your husband pay out of his pocket to have them repaired?”

  Ouch. I knew I should step in, as this was not the memory I wanted people to have of my store, but my inner nosiness pushed to the fore. I know it was petty, but the woman had been catty with me, and a small part of me, a part my mother would have condemned as unladylike, wanted to see Selina put in her place.

  Selina’s face reddened, her fists clenching and unclenching as she stared daggers at her husband. “What? You paid for them? You know damned good and well any damage was your fault, not mine! How dare you humiliate me like that?” Selina stormed out of the store, with a groveling Douglas trailing pitifully behind her.

  Stunned, I stood holding the damaged book as Keith finally made it to my side. I opened my mouth to speak to him, but I honestly had no clue what to say.

  Keith put his arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze, dropping a kiss on my hair in front of the gathered crowd. “It’s okay, sweetheart. With a gathering of this size, there are bound to be personality clashes.”

  Linus gently took the book from my hands. “I’m sorry there was such a scene.”

  “I’m still not quite sure what just happened.” I relinquished the damaged tome, glad to have Keith’s support.

  Linus chuckled. “No one ever is when she’s around. Now, if you’ll show me to your back room, I think I can repair this with a bit of book glue. I know Paul used to keep some on hand for such emergencies.”

  I shook my head and motioned toward the back room. “This way.” I led him through the dispersing crowd and into the small storage and office area at the back of the store. “You’ll find everything you need in the top desk drawer. And thank you.”

  “No problem. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” He settled himself at the desk, and Eddy curled up at his feet.

  Pasting a smile I didn’t feel on my face, I moved back out into the store, determined to put the remaining guests at ease and ensure the mood lightened after the disastrous display. Noticing a familiar pink-clad form, I eased my way through the crowd.

  “Alice, I am so sorry about that incident. I apologize for Mrs. March’s rudeness.”

  “What an awful woman.” Tears glittered in Alice’s eyes. “Some people just won’t let things die.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I patted her shoulder. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to upset you so badly.”

  “Yes, she did.” The plump woman took a deep shuddering breath. “And she succeeded.” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Abruptly, she changed the subject. “I’m not interested in that book.”

  It took me a second to make the mental leap. “If Mr. Talbot can’t repair it properly, I can knock a bit off the price for you. But he seems to know what he’s doing, so I’m sure it will be as nice as it was before. If you’d like, I can go ask him how it’s coming.”

  “Linus Talbot is a pompous, self-righteous jackass who thinks everyone is beneath him. Just the fact that he’s touched the book ruins it for me. He’s another one who won’t let things die. One day, if he keeps destroying people’s dreams, someone will put him in his place for good.”

  I barely managed to keep from taking a step back at the vicious fervor in Alice’s voice. Before I could think of how to respond, the plump woman swept down the aisle toward the poetry section in the rear of the store. I hoped she intended to pick another book to purchase, but I didn’t follow her to find out. At least she hadn’t run from the store in a huff like Selina March had.

  As that thought passed through my head, I caught sight of the woman herself. Selina had returned to the store and was slipping into the back room.

  I all but ran through the store, hoping to stop any more altercations before they happened. Enough was enough.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” I asked as Selina exited the back room. Although I forced myself to smile sweetly, I hoped my firm tone left no room for doubt that I wasn’t really pleased to see her back in my store.

  “I left my fur.” Selina’s reply was equally aloof as she gestured to the mink coat draped across her arm. “Don’t worry. I’m not staying in your nasty little flea-infested store any longer than it will take me to get to the door again.”

  “I’ll see you out.” I followed her to the front to ensure she was truly gone this time.

  Selina flew through the store, almost dislodging several more books as she swung the arm holding her coat. I breathed a massive sigh of relief as the door closed behind her.

  “I’m sorry, Jenna. I couldn’t stop her from getting her coat.” Mason clutched his clipboard tightly.

  “It’s okay.” I rested a hand on Mason’s shoulder and felt him relax a bit at the friendly gesture. “You did the right thing. She’s gone now, and I’m glad, although I wonder where Douglas was.”

  Mason pointed to The Weeping Willow, the small pub across the street. “They argued on the sidewalk after they left. Then she stormed off, and he went in there. I can’t say I blame him. That woman would drive any man to drink.” As we watched, the library director stepped through the pub’s door, shoulders slumped, trailing after his wife as she plowed down the sidewalk on the other side of the cobbled street.

  “Poor guy,” I muttered under my breath, looking toward the parking lot at one end of the historic district. “I’d hate to be in that car on the drive home.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?” Mason shook his head.

  I inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, to clear my head, as I took in the picturesque historic street. The Hokes Bluff Inn drew guests to the town, and the historic district completed that step-back-in-time feel the Town Council wanted. The district had been rezoned years before, ensuring only businesses that could have been present at the turn of the twentieth century could inhabit the spaces along the cobblestone street. The ends of Center Street were blocked, allowing only foot traffic down the sidewalks. Long warehouses, once used as part of the cannery that had supported the town decades ago, had been converted into stores with apartm
ents above. Tourists loved the quaint feel, and locals appreciated the number of customers the historic district drew to the area.

  I squared my own shoulders, giving Mason’s a final squeeze before letting go. “You’re doing a great job. Keep it up.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

  I steeled myself for another round of damage control as I eyed the whispering groups, obviously gossiping about Selina’s flamboyant return and departure. Please don’t let anything else happen tonight.

  I moved deeper into the store, mingled with guests, answered questions as tactfully as I could, and made small talk, hoping to soothe any jangled nerves, especially my own. Things settled down, and laughter and merriment flowed as everyone seemed to let go of the night’s previous drama in favor of enjoying the free alcohol and opportunity to socialize.

  As the evening wore on, so did the blisters forming on the backs of my heels. I hadn’t worn shoes like these in months, and my feet were not happy about being forced to remain in the black pumps with three-inch heels for the last few hours.

  At nine PM, I moved to the front of the store and again requested everyone’s attention. “It’s time for the drawing, folks!” I shouted over the crowd. My mother’s voice rang in my head, berating me that a lady did not bellow. Well, this lady’s feet hurt too badly to care at the moment.

  Mason stepped behind the counter and began moving the items into view. He placed a vintage set of blown-glass bookends and an antique reading lamp on the counter and brought a three-foot-tall, solid wood bookshelf around to sit on the floor in front of them. Lastly, he pulled a one-hundred-dollar store gift certificate from the cash drawer and laid it on the counter near the other items.

  All but the gift certificate had been donated by Phillie as she cleared out her vintage store. Since she didn’t want the items back and hadn’t taken a ticket, she had offered to help with the drawing.