Murder by the Bookend

by Laura Gail Black

  “Don’t forget the NoDoz.” She flipped a grin across her shoulder as she walked through the door. “You’ll be the one with no sleep to back you up for an all-nighter. You’ll need it.”

  I chuckled as she walked away. Turning, I saw Mason heading to the back room, laptop securely under his arm. “Mason, wait.” I met him halfway down the aisle. “I need to pick up a few things for tonight, so I’m heading out. You’ll need to watch the counter and close up. I’ll be back down for closing, and we can leave from here to head to the library.”

  Purse over my shoulder and notepad in hand, I hurried to the parking lot. I had checked the library’s hours and knew they closed an hour before we did. By the time we got there, the sun would be down and darkness would have settled, but I figured the book thief wouldn’t appear until after traffic had slowed down for the night. This gave me roughly an hour and a half to get the items I needed; get home; make coffee; dig out gloves, blankets, and a coat; dress warmly; and get back downstairs to the store before seven PM, when we closed our doors for the night.

  With a short timetable, I headed to the nearest grocery I knew of, waving to Benny as I scooted through the front door. He grinned and called out a greeting as I grabbed a cart. I waved back as I rushed through the aisles. Three travel mugs, since I only owned one, and it was on its last legs. Three forty-ounce thermoses. The only one I owned had belonged to Uncle Paul and looked older than I was. I didn’t trust it not to leak, and I knew it wouldn’t hold enough coffee for all of us for an all-nighter. Sandwich bread, lunchmeat, cheese. Check. I already had mayo and mustard at the house. Chips. I grabbed a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and a bag of mini pretzels. I would make coffee at the house, but I didn’t want to take a bowl of sugar and a bottle of liquid creamer. I grabbed a small container of powdered creamer and a box of sugar packets for Mason, knowing he liked the real stuff, not alternative sweeteners. Lastly, I rounded the aisle into the pharmacy section, looking for a caffeine pill. One box of NoDoz plopped into the cart, and I was on my way to the checkout. Fifteen minutes. Not bad.

  I turned to head toward the checkout counter, startled when I heard a woman call my name. I scanned left and right, smiling when I saw Phillie Hokes waving from across the store. Glancing at my watch, I realized I still had a few minutes to spare, so I wheeled over to the produce section, where Phillie was choosing squash.

  “Benny’s vegetables look really fresh today.” Phillie held out a squash to me. “Might be healthy to add some to your diet.” She eyed my cart of junk food and lunchmeat.

  A chuckle bubbled up from my chest. “This isn’t my usual diet. I promise. I have a fridge full of veggies at home.”

  One of Phillie’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” Her disbelieving tone matched her now-pursed lips.

  “I swear. Cross my heart.” My finger made an X over my heart before I lowered my voice. “We’re staking out the library tonight, and carrying a squash casserole to munch on isn’t as convenient as sandwiches and chips.”

  “Oh!” Phillie’s eyes widened and lit with a twinkle. “And why are we staking out the library?”

  I gave her a quick rundown of our plan, including Mason and Rita’s split schedule with me. I looked at my watch again. Only a few more minutes to spare. “Phillie, can I ask you something?”

  Phillie moved down the aisle and thumped a large cantaloupe before putting it in her cart. “Sure, what?”

  Explaining about Alice’s book auction online, I ended with, “Do you think she might have killed Linus because she was the one stealing books from the library in order to sell them online?”

  Phillie turned toward me, her brow wrinkled. “I don’t know. Linus kept an eye on book auction sites. He found a few for the library that way. I doubt anything stolen from the library would have been sold through the normal auction sites. He’d have spotted them right away.” She reached for another cantaloupe, absently thumping it for freshness. “If she stole the books, she had to find another way to sell them.”

  Darn. Back to square one. “Thanks. I guess we need to keep digging.”

  “I did hear something that might help.” She gently placed the second cantaloupe in her cart. “Bradford Prescott is thinking of dropping out of the race because of that newspaper article this morning.”

  My ears perked up. “What article?” I hadn’t taken time to read the paper today, but I’d snag it and take it on the stakeout.

  Phillie shook her head. “Oh, it was a juicy one. Seems Bradford has been taking money from high players at big pharma companies who do some seriously nasty animal testing while touting stronger animal cruelty laws and lowered costs for seniors on medications. The companies themselves cannot contribute, because candidates can’t accept contributions from business entities in North Carolina. But the folks who work there can contribute as individuals. It’s quite the stink, and with the election just around the corner, there’s not enough time for it to blow over.”

  “Wow, I hadn’t heard.” I checked my watch again. I really needed to go, but I also needed to hear what Phillie had to say. “I don’t see how this figures into Linus’s death, though.”

  “From what I’ve heard, Bradford and Becky are positioning him to make a run for the United States Congress. But to get there, he needs this congressional seat at the state level first, to lend credibility. If Bradford thought Linus had somehow discovered and was going to tell the reporter about the legal but highly unethical contributions, added to Linus’s accusations of animal cruelty to Eddy, Bradford might have killed Linus to shut him up.”

  “But how would Linus have found out? He wasn’t a politician. He was a librarian.” I propped a foot on the bottom rung of the grocery cart and leaned on the handle.

  “I didn’t say he did. Simply that Bradford might have thought he had.” She reached out and patted my hand. “Now, you’ve checked your watch three times already. I know you’re hot to get going for your secret stakeout. Have fun with it, and be safe. Just think about what I’ve said, though.”

  I gave her a quick hug, thanked her for the information, and fast-walked toward the checkout counter, my mind spinning. As I rounded the end of the aisle, completely lost in my own jumbled thoughts, I bumped into another cart, startling me into the present.

  “I’m so sorry …” My words froze in my mouth, and I barely kept my jaw from dropping.

  “Jenna!” Alice King giggled. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Behind her stood Becky and Bethany Prescott, the older of the two looking anything but pleased to have run into me at the grocery store. Becky sniffed and nodded.

  “Hi, Alice.” I nodded at Becky. “Mrs. Prescott.” Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to call the woman by her first name.

  Bethany grinned widely and rushed forward to give me a quick hug. “How’s Benson … Eddy?”

  I smiled and hugged her back before she stepped away. “He’s recovering nicely. Should be home in another few days.”

  “Recovering?” Creases lined Alice’s brow. “What happened to him?”

  This wasn’t how I’d planned to suss out my dog’s poisoner, but when opportunity presented itself … “Someone fed him poison and tried to kill him.”

  Bethany’s hands flew to her mouth, squelching the anguished cry that now only squeaked out past her fingers as tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Bethany Prescott, get a hold of yourself.” Becky’s hiss at her daughter echoed down the empty aisle. “Prescott women do not create scenes in public. Especially not over a violent mutt who should have been put down a long time ago.” Venom laced her words as she spat them in her daughter’s direction.

  “Benson is not violent!” Bethany’s shriek echoed through the store. “Daddy was the violent one, and Benson finally fought back! Now everyone knows. It’s all over the papers, along with what a two-faced liar he is!”

  While I had to applaud the girl for finally standing up to her mother over her beloved but abused dog, I had honestly not expected a good old-fashio
ned southern come-apart like this.

  Becky whirled and slapped Bethany, stopping the girl’s tirade and making her take a few steps back.

  “This family has gone through enough recently.” Becky’s voice did not rise in volume, but the powerful tone commanded attention. “You will not disgrace this family further with your outburst. Go to the car. Now.”

  Bethany ducked around her mother, eyes wide and her hand held to her face where her mother’s had made contact, and fled out the front door.

  I stood rooted to the floor, wishing I could disappear into the shelves behind me, horrified at what I’d witnessed.

  Alice stepped forward. “Becky, you might want to calm down a bit. Right now, you’re the person everyone is looking at.”

  Becky swiveled her head, taking in the faces peeking around aisle corners and craning their necks from the checkout lanes. She smoothed the front of her business suit jacket and squared her shoulders and clenched her jaw. “You’re right. Thank you, Alice. We’ve been under a terrible strain lately with the nasty smear campaign being waged by Bradford’s opponent.” She clenched her fists around her grocery cart’s handle. “I need to gather a few more things and get home.”

  Alice and I watched as she marched off, head high, seeming to ignore the stares as she passed gawking shoppers.

  Alice tsked. “Poor thing. To have come so far, only to be toppled by a dog.”

  Before I could respond to that odd remark, Alice moved off down an aisle, mumbling about dogs under her breath.

  I stared after her, unable to find words for what I’d just witnessed—Becky’s hate-filled words, Bethany’s outburst, Alice’s odd comforting gestures. I shook my head and resumed my trip to the checkout lane.

  As Benny rang up my groceries, I absently chatted with him. He’d finally forgiven me for my subterfuge after I’d moved to Hokes Folly. I’d pretended to be someone thinking of moving to the area, just to ask him about crime and a heated argument I’d heard him have with Stan Jergins, a local real estate agent. Once he’d learned I was actually Paul Baxter’s niece and already lived here, he’d been chilly to me for a solid month before slowly warming to me. I’d determinedly shopped at his store at least twice a week, even though his selection wasn’t as wide as the larger grocery chain stores on the outskirts of town. My persistence had paid off, and after two months, I was officially welcome in his store.

  During those weeks of shopping in his store, I’d learned to find other brands for most of my grocery needs, and I rarely needed to go to another grocery store. This suited me fine, as I really liked Benny, and there were rarely long lines. Besides, small business owners needed to stick together and support each other. Okay, so Benny hadn’t actually come to my store and bought books, but a few new customers had said Benny told them to stop by. Good enough for me.

  After paying for my items, I grabbed the bags and hurried to my car. I deposited the groceries in the back seat and closed the door. As I opened my own door, I noticed Bethany sitting in the car next to mine, her tear-streaked face stark in the glare of the setting sun.

  I tapped on her window, frowning when she jumped as if it were a gunshot. “Are you okay?” I asked through the glass.

  She leaned to her left, flipped the key forward in the ignition, and rolled down her window. “I’m sorry I caused a scene. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Bethany, stop.” I put a hand on her shoulder through the window. “You don’t owe me an apology. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Bethany’s bottom lip trembled, and she took a shuddering breath as she swiped a hand across her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I turn eighteen in two months. A friend has already told me I can come stay with her until graduation.”

  “I’m sure your parents wouldn’t want you to move out like that.” I leaned back on my car’s door and crossed my arms against the chill in the cooling evening air.

  Bethany snorted. “Of course not. It would tarnish their precious image.” She sighed and wilted. “It’s always about the image. Getting Benson, showing him off. Even showing me off as the perfect little student, the beautiful child, and the graceful and proper daughter. Nothing else is important to them.”

  Wow. What did I say to that? “Your mom loves you, and—”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Bethany shook her head. “Mama doesn’t love anything except the idea of being important, of living in Washington, D.C., and being a senator’s wife. She’s even talked about him running for president. She wants it even more than he does. Honestly, if she thought she could get there on her own, she’d be gone so fast it would make Daddy’s head spin.”

  Staccato footsteps sounded, and I turned to see Becky approaching.

  “Bethany, roll up that window.” Becky yanked open her trunk and slung several bags into it before slamming it shut. “And you”—she pointed a finger at me—“don’t you think you book people—you and that mutt—have done enough damage to this family? Stay away from my daughter, and keep that damned dog away from us too.” She slid into her car and slammed her door.

  I got into my own car, shutting my door just in time before Becky fast-reversed out of the parking spot and squealed her tires speeding out of the parking lot.

  By the time I got to my apartment and lugged everything upstairs and inside, I still hadn’t fully wrapped my head around what had happened. However, I had a stakeout to prepare for. I’d have plenty of time later to process.

  I dumped the items I’d bought onto the counter and started a pot of coffee. While it happily gurgled down into the pot, I pulled blankets from the closet in the spare bedroom and walked them down to my car, pouring the pot off into one thermos and part of a second when I returned. While a second pot brewed, I dug through my things, finally locating an old pair of gloves Uncle Paul had owned. They were a little oversized, but they’d be warm enough for Mason. They went into an open duffle along with a pair of my own gloves, two beanie hats Aunt Irene had crocheted—I’d kept them out of sentimentality—a couple of sweatshirts, and a roll of paper towels.

  I poured the second pot of coffee into the remaining thermos and a half. With little time to spare, I quickly made eight sandwiches. I figured two each for Mason and Rita and four for me, since I’d be there all night. These went into a soft-side cooler I’d found in the pantry, along with a cold pack from the freezer. As there was room, the chips went into the duffle, along with the NoDoz, before I made another trek to the parking lot.

  I returned to the store on the street side, walking in just as Mason was ushering a customer out. “Was he our last customer?”

  He flipped the “Closed” sign over and locked the door. “Yep. Just need to run through closing out the drawer, and we’re good to go.”

  While he counted the drawer and took the bank bag to the small safe in the back room, I emptied the coffeepot and the trash, locked the back door, and turned out most of the lights.

  “I need to grab my purse and the package of water bottles, and we’re good to go.” I headed up the staircase to my apartment.

  As we reached the top, Mason turned and headed back down. “Forgot something!”

  I left the doors open for him and moved through the room to the kitchen, sliding my purse over my shoulder when I got there. I reached for the package of water bottles.

  “Stop!” Mason called as he entered the room, a big grin across his face. “You carry these.” He held out a large box of a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts. “I called a friend to bring them over.”

  “Seriously?” I crossed the room and locked the doors to the stairwell before turning to take the donuts.

  “We can’t have a stakeout without donuts for our coffee. We need something to eat to keep us alert.” He hefted the heavier package of water, still grinning. “Don’t you watch cop shows on TV?”

  I rolled my eyes, chuckling as we exited the apartment and headed toward the parking lot. “Only you would think of donuts for the stakeout. I packed sandwiches and chips.”


  “Well, now we’ll have dessert.”

  We reached the car, loaded our last items inside, and drove to the library, only five minutes away. Seven fifteen. Not bad.

  I drove the car into a corner of the now-empty lot, backed into a spot, where we’d have a good view of the front door, and turned off the engine. “And now we wait.”

  “Time to catch a killer.” Mason grinned again and sipped coffee from his travel mug, his enthusiasm filling the car.

  I only hoped it was that simple.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Get down, get down!” I hunkered under my blanket, where I’d shimmied as far down in my seat as possible.

  Rita had arrived a few minutes earlier, and we’d bundled a yawning Mason off to bed. Rita had taken Mason’s keys earlier in the day, and she’d driven his car to the library. I would drive her home. Now we huddled, hoping the car looked empty to the driver of the Hokes Folly Outdoor Cleaners street-sweeper truck. He drove in a pattern back and forth across the library parking lot.

  I peeked out, reading the slogan “We Sweep While You Sleep” written across the back of the vehicle. “They’re almost to this corner. Just be still a few minutes longer.”

  “I’m not sure I could move now if I wanted to.” Rita hunkered in the passenger floorboard, a blanket tossed across her head.

  “Oh stop it. It’s only been a few minutes.” I peeked out again to see headlights headed straight for us. “He’s on the last pass. We’re almost done.”

  “I should’ve known this would happen on my watch. Mason is young. He can bend himself like a pretzel easier than I can.” Rita shifted again.

  Bright lights swung past us as the vehicle turned, and I peeked out again to watch as the truck slowly lumbered across the parking lot and out onto the street. “It’s safe.”

  Rita groaned beside me. “I’ll just stay here until someone can come cut me out of the car with the Jaws of Life.”

  “The good news is that they likely don’t do this every night.” I struggled to crawl out from under the steering wheel.