Murder by the Bookend

by Laura Gail Black

  A grin split my face. “Jackpot is right. This will bring a pretty penny.”

  We found several more books of similar quality in the box, setting them on the desk to inspect later before turning back to the remaining boxes. Three more boxes revealed additional 19th-century volumes in amazing condition.

  Although we hoped to find more boxes such as these, the remaining boxes contained more cookbooks, Westerns, romances, and the odd box of older mystery paperbacks, including books by Elmore Leonard, Dorothy L. Sayers, Mickey Spillane, and more by Agatha Christie.

  “All in all, not a bad haul.” I surveyed the open boxes, smiling again as my gaze settled on the stacks of antique books we’d discovered. “Tomorrow, I’ll get Mason to price and shelve most of these, but we’ll have to do some digging on the antiques. I’m still pretty new at this, so it takes a while to research, and I still have to call Linus …” My voice faded as I realized what I’d said. My book friend would no longer be on the other end of the line.

  Rita stood and hugged me. “It wasn’t your fault.” Her stomach rumbled loudly. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat and clear our heads.” She looped her arm through mine and tugged me away from the back room.

  Eddy lay sleeping in the sunlight pouring through the front windows.

  “I can’t leave Eddy alone yet.” I smiled when the dog raised his head at the sound of his name. Here was a male who wouldn’t break my heart.

  “I knew a lady who put her dog on the doggy version of Prozac when her other dog died. Maybe something like that would help Eddy through all of this.” Rita leaned down to scratch the dog’s head. “Might be worth a call to a vet.”

  I thought of the vet records still lying on the dining table where I’d dropped them when I got home from Linus’s house the other day. “I can look to see who Eddy’s vet is and give him a call later. For now, let’s call in an order and eat it upstairs.”

  After ordering and retrieving our food, we walked upstairs, and Eddy settled on the couch while Rita and I set the food on the kitchen bar.

  We ate quietly for a few minutes before Rita spoke.

  “I never would have thought Linus would have so many enemies.” She stabbed another bite of her salad with her fork. “He seemed so nice the day we talked to him about Paul’s book.”

  Rita had been present the first time I’d spoken to Linus. Shortly after I’d moved to Hokes Folly, I called Linus about a book he had authenticated for Uncle Paul … a book that had ultimately been at the root of my uncle’s murder.

  “I’ve spoken with him on the phone quite a few more times, and he was always happy to help me with a book’s general value.” I laid my sub sandwich on my plate and brushed off my fingers. “We never talked about anything personal, so I can’t say I really knew him. Only that he loved books as much as Uncle Paul had.”

  “I don’t know.” Rita gestured with her fork. “If I ended up at a party with several people who hated my guts, I think I’d have been more careful going back to my car alone in the dark.”

  I swiveled and looked at Eddy. “He wasn’t alone,” I said softly.

  Rita’s gaze followed mine. “I guess not.”

  “Well.” I abruptly stood. “I think I’ll get back at those book boxes. You ready?” I rewrapped the remaining half of my sandwich and walked to the refrigerator. It would make a nice lunch on Monday.

  “Sure.” Rita hopped off her stool and took her now empty Styrofoam box to the trashcan in the pantry. “Let’s get back at it while I’m still around to help.”

  I grabbed Eddy’s leash, and we took him for a quick walk before heading back to the store. As we approached, I saw Phillie Hokes unlock the door to the shop next door and step inside.

  “Come on.” I motioned to Rita and headed toward the now half-empty vintage store, where I rapped on the glass door, waving at Phillie when she looked up.

  With a smile on her lips, she rushed to the door, turned the lock, and pulled the door open. “Come in out of that cold wind.”

  “Is it okay if we bring Eddy in with us? He’s a little skittish about being alone.” I gestured toward my furry companion.

  “Absolutely.” Phillie motioned us in, leaning down to scratch the dog’s head as he passed her.

  “Nice jeans.” I grinned at the older woman. I’d never seen her in anything so casual.

  Phillie twirled around. “I’ve never had a pair before, and I can honestly say I like them.”

  “Never?” Rita stepped back a couple of paces. “They look great on you.”

  “Livie wanted us to live like we were elderly spinster sisters from the nineteen fifties, because it fit her vision of who she was. It’s part of why she loved all the historical books and why she loved this vintage clothing store so much.” Phillie locked the door behind us and walked toward a seating arrangement still set up in one corner. “The way we dressed, the way we spoke, the way we did everything. It’s like she wanted to live in Mayberry, and it was easier to let her have her way.”

  “And now that she’s gone?” I prompted.

  “Now that I’m on my own for the first time in my life, I’m figuring out who Phillie Hokes really is. I’m no longer just Livie Hokes’s sister.” Phillie gestured at her jeans-clad legs. “And for now, that includes blue jeans.” She took a few empty boxes off delicate-looking vintage chairs, gesturing for us to sit. “What brings you ladies here today?”

  “I wanted to thank you again for donating the items for my event and helping out with the drawing.” I gingerly sat on one of the dainty chairs, hoping it wouldn’t wobble, and was pleased to find it sturdier than it appeared.

  Phillie waved her hand around the store. “I’m glad to find homes for these things. What with Livie gone …” She pursed her lips after mentioning her sister. “Let’s just say I won’t miss this business. It was her love, not mine. All I can say is thank God for eBay.”

  I tried to picture the tiny, older woman selling vintage clothing on the auction site and couldn’t manage it. “What will you do now instead?”

  A sly smile cross Phillie’s lips. “You should already have guessed that, dear. After all, you’re the one who put the idea in my head.”

  “A garden shop!” Rita clapped her hands and squealed. “It’s perfect for you.”

  “Pshaw.” Phillie waved her hand. “Nothing is ever perfect. You girls need to learn that. But it will definitely be a lot more fun than this store ever was.”

  I grinned at Phillie’s reference to twenty-six-year-old and forty-four-year-old women as girls. Maybe I was closer to it than Rita, but neither of us were children. And after all I’d been through in the last year, I felt a lot older than my chronological age.

  “Oh, stop that.” Rita waved her hand back and forth. “You aren’t that much older than I am. You’re what, forty-nine?” She shot Phillie an impish grin.

  Phillie snorted. “I am not embarrassed that I’ll be sixty-five next spring. I went through a lot to get to this age, and being this old means I survived every bit of it.” She punctuated her sentence with a curt nod of her head, and an impish smile curling her lips.

  I chuckled. “And we’re glad you did. So, where will your nursery be?” I hoped it was close enough to still see the woman regularly.

  “I found the best spot, with room for large greenhouses and room to expand. It’s just outside town.” She patted us both on the knees. “I expect you both to visit. I still need to teach you”—she pointed at me—“how to keep Paul’s plants alive. You haven’t killed them yet, have you?”

  I shook my head. “No, ma’am.” I hoped she hadn’t seen the drooping leaves on the ficus tree in the front window of my apartment. To take her attention off my lack of a green thumb, I changed the subject. “Would it be all right if I asked you a few questions about Linus Talbot?”

  Phillie’s demeanor changed, sadness replacing the earlier sparkle in her gaze. “Linus Talbot was a good man.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.”


  “Had you known him long?” Rita leaned in and rubbed the older woman on the shoulder.

  Phillie drew a deep breath and released it. “I’ve known Linus since grade school.” A wistful smile touched her lips. “I had a terrible crush on him in fourth grade. But he had eyes only for Janet Chrisforth. I got over my crush, and he eventually married her. I know this will sound terrible, but I’m glad she passed away years ago. I don’t know how she would have handled him being murdered.”

  I plunged forward. “Can you think of anyone who would want to harm him?” Gads, now I sounded like a cheesy cop show.

  She tilted her head to the side, her brows drawn together. “Oh, quite a few folks didn’t like him. He was set in his ways, and everything was black or white for him. There was no gray area on any matter. But to kill him? I don’t know.”

  I told her what I’d found out about the politician’s pet platform and what Alice had told me about Selina. “Do you think either of them could have done it?”

  Phillie thought for a moment before shaking her head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I do know Selina couldn’t stand him. And from what you said, Bradford Prescott had a solid reason to dislike him as well. But you need to add Alice into that pile. She likes to tattle on others, but she had her own reasons to hate Linus.”

  “She has seemed a little hot and cold on the subject of Linus Talbot, from what I understand.” Rita shifted in her chair as if trying to find a comfortable position.

  I ignored my own numbing backside from the pretty but hard chair. “Do you know why she hated him?”

  “She loved him.” Phillie shrugged.

  “Wait, she loved him, which is why she hated him?” Rita shifted again.

  “About six years ago, right after Janet passed, Alice started working at the library. As she had an associate’s degree in library science, she was a shoo-in for the job. They put her working with Linus in the rare book section, helping him catalog new items donated or purchased and learning to care for and repair antique books. As the months progressed, she began brokering minor antique books. She found some through your uncle, which she sold to various buyers, although I don’t think he was her only source.”

  “I remember Paul had a wish list from her in case he found books at estate sales,” Rita stated.

  Phillie nodded. “At least she didn’t develop a crush on him too.”

  “Too?” Gads, I hoped her garden center would have more comfortable furniture. Anything but the miserable chairs from this store. I shifted my weight to my least-numb hip, trying not to be jealous of Eddy snoozing at my feet. It seemed even the floor was more comfortable than my chair.

  Phillie smiled sadly and shook her head. “Yes, Alice had a habit of falling in love with men who were simply being nice. She didn’t come from the best family, and when someone showed her affection, she latched on like there was no tomorrow. Apparently Alice mistook Linus’s kindness to her while he taught her about antique books as attraction. She’d been working there around two years when she tried to kiss him, and she told him how she felt. He put her in her place, assuring her he was still in love with his deceased wife and always would be. She was crushed. She yelled at him that the only other thing he loved were musty old books, and he’d die a lonely, bitter old man. Pitched herself quite a fit.” Phillie waved her hands in the air above her head. “Ran around waving her arms and crying and screaming at Linus like a banshee. Got herself fired over it.”

  “Is that why she refuses to touch a book that Linus has repaired?” I’d already told the older woman about Alice’s attitude at my store.

  “No.” Phillie shook her head. “Seems right after she was fired, one of her clients brought in a book to have Linus authenticate it. The man had heard rumblings that Alice was passing off fakes as the real deal. Buying replicas and using repair techniques to age the books and make them appear genuine, or something like that.”

  Rita sat up straighter, eyebrows raised. “Linus caught her at it?”

  “He did. The book the man brought was nowhere near the age Alice had claimed. She’d sold him a book for several thousand dollars, but it was worth maybe thirty at most. She’d done a good job of it. But Linus was good at his job too. He told the buyer the truth, and the man spread it through antique book circles that she was intentionally selling fakes.” Phillie frowned and pursed her lips. “The sad part is that she was really good at finding just the right books for her clients. After it all came out, then we knew why. Now she works at a gas station on the outskirts of town. She blamed Linus for that as well.”

  “Wow.” I let out a low whistle. “No wonder she can’t stand him. He got in the way of her sweet deal. At least in her mind.”

  “The worst part was she was still convinced he loved her up until that point. So not only did she lose her scam income, her dreams of setting up housekeeping with Linus were dashed to bits as well.” A soft chime from a grandmother clock behind the counter drew Phillie’s gaze. “Lordy, it’s already three thirty. I’m going to be late to meet the realtor to finalize the papers for the nursery property. I need to get a move on, ladies.”

  Rita and I both stood when Phillie did and followed her out of the store, waiting with her as she locked up.

  I touched her on the shoulder. “Miss Phillie, would you like us to walk you to your car? I mean, after what happened …”

  Phillie chuckled. “No. That’s not necessary. I refuse to live in fear. Linus’s death wasn’t random. It was too personal.” She snapped open the pocketbook she’d put over her arm. “Besides, I still have several of Papa’s old security items.”

  I managed to keep my jaw from dropping when I spotted the large revolver in her purse, lying across a few tissues, a couple of ballpoint pens, and a change purse.

  “Believe me, I can and will take care of myself.” Phillie winked at us and snapped her pocketbook closed. “You be sure if you keep poking around in this murder that you two do the same.”

  As we watched her march toward the parking lot, her pocketbook swinging from her forearm, I pictured her in a Dirty Harry stance, pointing the revolver at someone and asking them if they felt lucky. Though the thought was amusing, her words held a ring of truth. We—I—needed to be more careful. What if I asked the wrong person the right questions?

  Chapter Ten

  Monday morning, I stood with coffee in hand, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my living room area onto the cobbled street below. Many of the businesses were closed on Mondays, so the foot traffic was minimal. Instead, our animal neighbors came out to play. Eddy was especially focused on the squirrel family playing in the trees sunk into holes in the sidewalks. We’d already had our morning walk, but I knew he would love the opportunity to sniff the trees and leave his own mark, just so those squirrels knew who really owned the street … at least in Eddy’s doggy mind.

  I knelt and scratched behind his ears, draping an arm around him for a hug. He slumped to the floor, squirrels momentarily forgotten in the face of possible petting, and rolled to his back in a plea for tummy rubs. I obliged for a few minutes before standing and walking to the front door to grab the twice-weekly local newspaper I’d subscribed to.

  My coffee went down the wrong pipe at my gasp, and I coughed uncontrollably for a minute before I could reread the headline at the top of the front page. “Third Murder Linked to Local Bookstore.”

  Seems I’d been sucked into another reporter’s not-so-friendly mind game. I walked to the couch, letting my mug hit the coffee table a little too hard, and sank into the sofa to read the article.

  Local used and antique bookstore Twice Upon a Time, formerly Baxter’s Book Emporium, has been linked to the recent murder of Linus Talbot, Director of Antique Books at the Hokes Folly Community Library.

  In early August, new store owner Jenna Quinn found her uncle, Paul Baxter, dead in his bookstore. Baxter’s pursuit of an antique diary of town founder John Hokes led to not only his death but also the murder of Norman Childers. Talb
ot’s death makes the third death to be linked to the store in four months.

  Thursday night, Talbot attended a grand reopening event at Twice Upon a Time, where he won a set of antique, blown-glass bookends, one of which was used to bludgeon him to death in a parking lot outside the historic district in downtown Hokes Folly minutes after the event ended.

  “Uncle Paul and I both used him as a resource to authenticate rare books,” said Quinn. However, she claims she had never met Talbot in person prior to her event.

  Before his death, Talbot had set an appointment with a Hokes Folly Tribune reporter regarding the background of his beloved dog, Edition, who previously belonged to North Carolina House of Representatives candidate Bradford Prescott, and who is now in Quinn’s custody.

  Hokes Folly Police Detective Frank Sutter confirmed the Police Department is looking at the death as a homicide. However, he would not confirm whether Prescott is currently a person of interest in the murder.

  Should anyone have information regarding the murder, please notify the Hokes Folly Police Department.

  I flopped back into the couch cushions as I let the paper drop into my lap, emotions warring in my head.

  My stomach clenched. I was furious. At Dee Lynoir for suckering me into talking to her about the event. At myself for being so stupid as to trust a reporter after being relentlessly hounded by reporters in Charlotte, where everything I’d said, or sometimes hadn’t said, had been twisted into sensationalism, until I’d finally hidden out in a run-down motel. And then I’d received Uncle Paul’s invitation.

  Before I let the past swamp me, I stood and tossed the paper onto the coffee table and strode to my bedroom to stare at the clothes in my closet. Eddy followed me and hopped onto the bed, flopping down to stare at me while I tried to decide what to wear for the day. The clothes I’d worn in my previous life in Charlotte hung in garment bags in the guest room closet. I had no need for power suits or high heels here. Eventually I’d have to get rid of these items, although I’d likely keep one or two dressier outfits. Maybe I could get Phillie to show me her tricks for offloading clothes on eBay. I smiled, glad to think of my friend acting more like the sixty-five-year-old woman she was rather than someone three decades older.