Murder by the Bookend

by Laura Gail Black

  I gathered my wits and strode behind the counter, tidying up an already neat area, giving my hands busywork until I could think straight. I’d been through so much in the last few months. Being accused of embezzlement and murder, being in jail three months, losing my job, losing my fiancé, losing my home … almost losing my sanity. Then I’d come here.

  Looking around the store, I took a deep breath. This was mine. I belonged here. No one was going to ruin it for me. I hadn’t come this far to only come this far. I chuckled, releasing the tension, when I realized a quote from an inspirational poster I’d seen had begun to flit through my brain. It seemed to fit, though, and I decided it would be my new mantra. At least for this week.

  The rest of the morning ran more smoothly, without any more accusatory visits and with a silenced phone. We had a smattering of lookie-loos who wanted to gain fodder for gossip. Mason and I managed to herd them toward the door, maintaining the pleasantly bookish environment for legitimate shoppers.

  When my stomach growled midday, I ran upstairs to grab the rest of a large pizza I’d ordered a couple of days ago, and we ate on the fly, gobbling bites between customers. As things slowed in the early afternoon, a soft, high-pitched whine by the door drew my attention to Eddy’s need for a walk. I grabbed his leash and we headed down the walk toward a grassy area and a nice tree.

  As we returned, I groaned inwardly, catching sight of Selina and Douglas March headed in our direction. I glanced around for a quick exit from their path, but it was too late.

  Douglas waved at me, and I had no choice but to continue toward them.

  “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. March. How are you today?” I drew to a stop next to them. “You look lovely today, Mrs. March,” I added for good measure. I needed to gain inner-Mom-voice brownie points. I’d stepped over the line too many times lately.

  “Of course I do.” Selina struck a pose, which I figured was meant to impress me.

  I caught myself before I rolled my eyes. “How are things at the library?” This was aimed at Douglas.

  He shook his head and sighed. “We’re managing, I suppose, but it’s not the same without Linus. The funeral today was difficult, to say the least.”

  Oh snap, I’d forgotten! “I’m so sorry. I should have known that’s where you had been today.”

  “Did you think we dress like this every day?” Selina pursed her lips in distaste and brushed at imaginary lint on her fur of the day, this time a black calf-length cape. “Why else would I wear all black during the day? It’s just not done.”

  Frankly, Douglas looked as he had every other time I’d seen him, wearing a worn suit, albeit in charcoal gray today rather than muddy brown as before. Selina’s all-black look was sleek, if a bit toned down for her. Her black stilettoes were only three inches, not the usual four, and her mid-thigh-length dress was almost modest and subdued. Almost.

  Selina continued. “I suppose I could wear my funeral attire to one of your boring little parties and fit right in. Although I’d worry about my new fur, considering your habit of shelving books in such a way as to damage customers’ belongings.” A snarky smile slid across her face, and she swept her fur cape across the front of her dress, in an old-movie, Dracula-style gesture.

  Douglas grasped Selina by the arm. “Enough. Miss Quinn has been gracious to us, and we will be gracious in return.”

  A low growl sounded at my side, and Eddy took a half step forward.

  Selina gasped and stumbled backward on her stilettoes. “Douglas! That dog! Did you see her try to sic him on me? Get him away from me!”

  Douglas shot me a regretful look before steering his wife to cross the cobblestone street. “I’m sure he won’t follow us over here, dear. He probably responded to the fur coat, thinking it was another animal.”

  As they walked away, I could still hear her shrieking about how I’d tried to get my dog to attack her. I glanced down at Eddy. He still stood, watching them retreat, his legs locked and his hackles raised.

  I leaned down and smoothed his hackles. “I don’t know what’s up with you, sweetheart, but you can’t keep growling at folks. Even Selina March. Although I do understand the urge.”

  Eddy glanced up at me and gave me a single wag before looking back at the Marches.

  I followed his gaze, watching them enter The Weeping Willow. My head turned when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. A plump woman clad in black, a black pillbox hat with a net veil covering her face, stood in the doorway of the Hokes Folly Apothecary two doors down from the pub. When she saw me looking, she ducked inside.

  At least someone had witnessed that I hadn’t sicced my dog on Selina March. I’d ask the apothecary who she was, if Selina tried to push the issue. I stood, tugging on Eddy’s leash, and managed to coax him into moving toward the store. We entered, finding Mason on a stool behind the counter in an exhausted slump.

  “We got a bit of a lull.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his crossed arms on the counter. “I’m beat.”

  I looked out the window behind him. “Don’t look now. It looks like a tour bus must have arrived. There are quite a few folks headed this way.”

  Mason stood and squared his shoulders. “Round two.”

  The door chimes sounded, and Mason kicked into store manager persona for the next hour, handling questions, directing customers to sections of the store, and ringing up purchases.

  As he worked, I pulled out my laptop and worked on the notice I’d planned for the next newspaper edition, announcing I was extending the grand reopening sale from a few days to all month long. With the traffic we’d had, I hated to end it too early.

  Eddy slept at my feet, raising his head to check the door each time the chimes sounded. During the next lull, Mason walked behind the counter, and Eddy roused enough to wag his tail and solicit a good belly rub before dozing off again.

  “Lazy dog.” Mason plopped onto a chair, a smile on his face as he gazed at the animal. “I wish I could curl up under the counter for a nap right now.”

  “You’re young and energetic. You’ll live,” I stated before turning my attention back to the newspaper notice I’d almost completed to my satisfaction.

  “Uh-oh, don’t look now.” Mason pointed toward the sidewalk.

  I swiveled on my stool and caught sight of Bradford Prescott, suit immaculate, hair perfectly coifed. He stopped and shook hands with a passerby, offering the man a pamphlet. Oh, joy. A politician soliciting. Maybe I needed to make a “No Soliciting” sign for the door.

  Catching us watching, Bradford waved and strode toward our door. He entered, followed by an elderly couple. Mason perked up and swept from behind the counter, guiding the couple around the store in a mini-tour I’d seen him give several times today. I had to hand it to him; making him the store manager had done wonders for the guy.

  I realized Bradford was talking. Chagrined, I turned and tried to catch up to what he was saying. Too late. He’d finished, and he was looking at me as if he expected a response.

  “So, you’re saying …” I let my words fade away, acting as if I needed clarification, and hoping he hadn’t said something so simple that I was making myself look like more of an idiot.

  He held out a stack of his political pamphlets. “I asked if I could leave a stack of these on the counter.”

  Oops, hopes dashed. Oh well. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but if I let one organization do it, I’d have to let them all.”

  “You wouldn’t have to push them on anyone or put them in any bags. Just let folks pick one up if they want one.” He again held out the stack, a slick smile on his face.

  Again, I didn’t take them. “I’m sorry, I really can’t.” I noticed Mason waving at me from across the room. Bless that boy, this paid me back for rescuing him from the Women’s League Against … whatever. “I’m needed to assist a customer, Mr. Prescott. I’m delighted to see you again, and I wish you all the best with your campaign efforts.”

  He didn’t match my smile as I s
lipped from behind the counter. It was moments later when I heard the chimes sound, and I wrapped up with my customer, quickly returning to the front windows to make sure Bradford was moving away from my store. As I watched, he turned down the street, shaking hands as he went.

  I ducked down a bit, however, when I noticed Selina and Douglas exiting The Weeping Willow, deep in conversation. They passed the store, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Again, movement at the edge of my view tugged at my attention. The black-clad woman had slipped out of the apothecary and into the pub, watching the Marches closely as she did so.

  Another customer needed my attention, and I ended up deep in a conversation about vintage cookbooks. When the woman selected a few, I headed toward the counter to ring her up, noticing someone standing quietly inside the door.

  Douglas March met my gaze, a smile on his face.

  I nodded to him to let him know I’d be with him momentarily, completed the cookbook sale, then turned to him. “How can I help you, Mr. March?”

  “Miss Quinn, I wanted to apologize again for my wife’s rude comments. She really doesn’t mean to be difficult.” Douglas shoved his hands in his pants pockets.

  Bull. That woman meant to be mean at every turn. She’d never gotten past the mean-girls stage from high school. “Of course, Mr. March. I understand. I’m sure she’s just stressed about the upcoming ball. I hear it’s going to be quite the bash.”

  “Oh, that.” Douglas wilted some. “Selina does love her parties.”

  And furs, and expensive jewelry and clothes, and, and, and.

  Douglas pulled a hand out of a pocket and pointed at the counter. “I see you’re backing Bradford Prescott in the upcoming election.”

  Hellfire on a popsicle. The smarmy jerk had left a stack of his stupid pamphlets despite what I’d said. “I try not to discuss politics at work or let my own opinions color the atmosphere of the store. I think he left these here by accident.” I snagged them and stuffed them under the counter. I’d trash them later when it wouldn’t make me look rude.

  “I’m sure the best candidate will win.” Douglas put his hand on the door handle. “Again, I’m sorry about Selina. I’m sure you’ll end up as friends one day.” With a weak smile that said he didn’t believe that any more than I did, he pushed open the door and left to the tinkling of the chimes.

  I woke the computer and again tried to put the finishing touches on my newspaper ad, knowing I’d rather turn in finished artwork than let them create some for me after the hatchet job they’d done on my store in their article. But I needed the cheap advertisement, and I couldn’t afford radio or TV ads.

  The door chimes sounded again as I finished up and closed the laptop. I looked up to see the black-clad woman who had been following the Marches.

  “Alice?” I asked, surprised at this completely different look on the woman. She looked almost polished compared to the little-girl pink ruffles she’d worn to the store’s grand reopening event. No wonder I hadn’t recognized her from across the street.

  “Yes, it’s me.” She sniffed loudly, opening her black clutch to remove a tissue and dab at her eyes under the veil. Half sobbing, she asked, “Do you still have that book that Linus repaired last week?”

  “I do.” I offered her a stool to sit on.

  She hitched herself onto it and propped both feet on the bottom rung. “I would like to buy it after all.” She dabbed her eyes again and sniffed loudly. “It was the last thing my Linus worked on before he died.”

  My brows shot up, but I kept my jaw from dropping. Her Linus? Since when? “Yes, I can get it for you if you’ll wait a moment.”

  She nodded and dabbed.

  I left her on the stool while I rushed to the poetry section to snag the book, returning with it to the front counter. “I’ve discounted it a bit due to the damage, but Linus did an excellent repair job. You have to really look closely to notice anything wrong.”

  With trembling hands, she took the book, running shaking fingers across the cover as if caressing a lover.

  Creepy! But hey, a sale was a sale. What she did with the book later was none of my business. She could sleep with it like a Teddy bear for all I cared.

  I rang up the sale, hoping sentimentality didn’t stretch her budget too far, and placed the book in a store logo bag along with the receipt. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She took the bag and looked inside, sniffing again. “Yes, it is a great loss. There will never be another Linus Talbot. Not, at least, for me.” With that dramatic statement, she swept from the store, clutching the bag to her breast like it was the most precious item she’d ever owned.

  I shook my head in amazement. Wow. Just wow. At least Eddy hadn’t raised his hackles again. I looked down at my sleeping furry friend.

  Another customer followed Alice out, and Mason joined me behind the counter.

  “It seems Alice has done another about-face.” I showed him the receipt.

  “Again? Boy, she can’t make up her mind, can she?” He chuckled and sat on a stool. “I think that was the last of the tour bus customers.”

  I printed a quick tally of the day’s sales and went to the back room to put the printout in the filing cabinet beside the desk. Files. Oh snap, I’d forgotten.

  “Hey, Mason, look at this.” I gestured to him when I returned to the front counter. “This must’ve been in the file cabinet behind Eddy’s vet folder, and they gave it to me by accident.”

  Mason took the folder I held out and opened it. “What is it?”

  I laid Eddy’s vet folder on the counter. “Inventory printouts. I thought we’d look at how they tagged their inventory items, so we can improve ours. I’ll run it over to Keith later, and he can get it back to Linus’s house.”

  He dragged another stool next to mine and plopped down, and I spread the stapled sets of pages across the counter.

  Mason picked up a printout and flipped through it.

  I grabbed another stack and scanned the categories the sheet tracked. One category was date published. I noticed all of the books on page one were antique. I turned the page. Same. I slid my finger down each page, finding Linus was only tracking the antique books. I guessed that made sense because that was his department.

  “Does yours have any highlighted items?” I turned to the two pages where I’d found items that looked like he’d used a yellow highlighter on them.

  Mason quickly flipped through his pages again. “Nope.” He grabbed another set and flipped the pages. “But this one has three.”

  Quickly we checked all of the stacks, finding only the oldest and the newest didn’t have highlighted items.

  “Did you see the dates?” I asked, lining them up in order.

  Mason leaned in and looked at the handwritten dates at the top of each set. “Hey, the first two are a year apart. Then the third one is three months after the second one. The rest are all two weeks apart.”

  “And did you see that the second one had about fifteen items highlighted?” I turned the pages of that set.

  Mason’s brow furrowed. “But what are they?”

  I grabbed the set with the most highlighted items and the next dated set and turned the pages simultaneously. I snagged the next set and did the same thing. “There’s a pattern.” I pointed to the items. “Notice that the highlighted items are items that don’t show up on the next run.”

  We went through all of the pages, comparing each run to the next dated run. The results were the same. With each new run, more books were missing—two to three books every two weeks.

  “Were that many books being damaged?” Mason slid his fingers across the line items again.

  I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know. I wouldn’t think so. They seem pretty careful with their collection. Although they did say Selina damaged a bunch of them one day.”

  “Yeah, but not every two weeks.” Mason stood as the bells jingled again, signaling another customer. “Too bad he didn’t print out an explanation.”

>   Too bad indeed. I restacked the pages and slid them back into the folder. “I think I should call Keith and tell him about this. Let the police decide what it all means.” I dialed Keith’s number. When he didn’t answer, I left a voice mail requesting he call as soon as he got the message.

  I grabbed Eddy’s leash. He hadn’t asked to go out in a while, and I figured he’d need a walk before Keith called back, in case I had to leave him with Mason again to take the folder to the police station. I started for the door, calling the dog as I moved. Eddy didn’t follow. Eddy didn’t move.

  Panic clenched my gut. “Eddy?” I rushed back to the counter and dropped to my knees beside the dog. “Eddy?” I shook him gently.

  He raised his head, eyes not focusing, wheezing a bit as he breathed.

  “Come on, boy.” I patted him on the hip. “That must have been a good nap. But it’s time to wake up and go for a walk.”

  At the shake of the leash, Eddy struggled to rise but staggered and sank to the floor again, flopping onto his side and breathing heavily.

  “Mason!” I yelled across the room. Fear sliced through me, my heart racing. No, no, no, no, no!

  Mason skidded to a stop beside me, the customer close behind.

  “I need you to close the store immediately and call the vet in that folder.” I looked past Mason at the teenaged boy looking over Mason’s shoulder, probably there to look for a cheaper way to get ahold of the newest reading assignment for his English class. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to come back another day.”

  At my pointed stare, the boy nodded and left, and Mason locked the door behind him, flipping the door’s sign to “Closed” as he spoke softly into his phone.

  “The vet’s waiting for us.” Mason scooped Eddy up in his arms. “I’ll drive, and you can sit in the back with Eddy.”

  I followed Mason out the front door, locked it behind us, and jogged to keep up with his hurried stride, grateful I wouldn’t have to drive. Tears blurred my vision at the thought I might lose this sweet baby I’d come to love.