Murder by the Bookend

by Laura Gail Black

  “At least we’ll have something exciting to tell Mason tomorrow.” Rita managed to turn, covering her lap with the blanket as she sat.

  “He’ll be disappointed he missed it.” I chuckled. “He couldn’t believe all we did was sit and watch the building. No streaming on his phone because of the light. Same with reading a book.”

  “He could always listen to an audiobook.” Rita opened the door long enough to empty Mason’s coffee on the ground before placing the travel mug in a large baggie and sealing it shut.

  “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” I handed her the clean travel mug I’d brought for her and a fresh thermos of coffee. Mason and I had finished off the first one.

  Steam rose from the thermos as Rita poured her mug, which she held between her knees. “You started to tell me about running into Phillie at the grocery store before we were interrupted by the street sweeper.”

  I mentally backtracked, picking up where I’d left off. “She thinks Bradford Prescott might have murdered Linus if he thought Linus was going to tell the reporter about his back-room contributions on top of the animal cruelty allegations.”

  “I don’t know.” Rita sipped her coffee. “Maybe. It’s definitely something to consider, although I don’t see how Linus would have found out.”

  “As Phillie put it, it didn’t really matter if Linus knew or not, just that Bradford thought he knew.”

  I reached into the cooler and pulled out a sandwich, offering it to Rita, who shook her head, adding a “No thanks, not yet.”

  I slid the sandwich from the baggie and took a bite. Mason had polished off two sandwiches, half the bag of Doritos—I’d need to stock up again before our next stakeout—and four donuts. This was my third sandwich, and I was eating it solely to stay awake. I’d been up since six AM the previous morning, and as of half an hour ago, I’d passed the twenty-hours-awake mark. Only three and a half more hours to go before I could go home and collapse in bed. I took another bite.

  “Maybe Frank’s onto something.” Rita’s quiet voice sounded through the car.

  I jerked my drifting mind back to the present. “How so?”

  “If Bradford really did kill Linus, maybe it had nothing to do with the supposedly missing books.” She shrugged and tucked her blanket closer in the chilly car.

  “I don’t know.” I looked out the window, still processing the scene with the Prescotts at the grocery store. “Before today, I would have argued. But now?” I filled her in on what had happened.

  Rita whistled low. “And you let me believe the street sweeper was the excitement of the day.”

  “I’m honestly still not sure what to make of the whole thing.” I looked down at my sandwich, unable to take a bite. “I’m worried about Bethany. But I’m also wondering if we’re on a wild goose chase.”

  “From what you saw, they seem to have hated Linus and blame him for at least part of what’s happening now.” Rita shifted in her seat beside me, tugging a knee up to her chest and leaning back on the door to face me.

  “Maybe so.” I shook my head. “But something is still telling me those books have something to do with Linus’s murder. I feel it in my gut.”

  “Of course you do. You’re part of ‘you book people.’” She grinned at me. “You want everything to have to do with books.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been called worse.”

  Rita sobered and leaned forward, patting my arm. “You have a deep need to help find out what happened. It’s understandable. And since you can’t get involved in what Frank Sutter has going on, you’re focusing in on what you can do: follow the book trail. Will it lead to anything? Maybe. Maybe not. But at least it’s something tangible you can do.”

  Tears stung my eyes, and I leaned over and tugged Rita into a quick hug. “Thanks for understanding.”

  Rita squeezed me back and pulled away. “As for your gut, what you feel right now is likely indigestion from all you’re eating to stay awake.” She gestured at the empty sandwich bags, the donut box, and the chips. “You’d better slow down, or you’ll be two sizes bigger by the time this is over. And that’s if we catch anyone.”

  I finished the last bite of sandwich and tossed the baggie into the trash bag I’d brought. “Maybe.” My stomach did feel a bit unsettled, to tell the truth. “Not that there’ll be anyone around to care what I look like if we can’t solve this case quickly.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rita handed me a paper towel to wipe my hands.

  “Sutter’s bosses are waiting for him to screw up again so they can get rid of him. They’ve pulled him off every major case but this one in the meantime, and Keith is stuck in his wake.” I followed with a recap of my conversation with Keith. “I’m afraid if we can’t wrap this up quickly, he’ll be looking to move to another city again. I can’t say that I’d blame him.”

  “Frank Sutter needs to get his head out of his backside.” Rita opened the bag of pretzels and munched one before continuing. “The thing is, he used to be a pretty straightforward guy, and from what I hear, he was one heck of a cop.”

  “Well, he’s not now.” I pulled my blanket across my shoulders. “Now, he’s a bully who won’t listen to anyone but himself.”

  I hunkered in the corner, watching the library door, lost in my own thoughts—a swirl of Keith leaving for another job, Sutter lording it over everyone that he’d been right and now he’d prove I was an embezzler and killer, and an empty library because someone stole all the books.

  A hand shook my shoulder, startling me, and I realized I’d dozed off. Ugh, if that was what I dreamed on ham sandwiches, Doritos, and donuts, I needed to lay off all three. “What time is it?”

  “Almost six.” Rita busied herself stowing away snacks and drinks for the short drive home. “They’ll be coming to work soon, and we don’t want to be here when they do.”

  “Why’d you let me fall asleep?” I rubbed one eye and yawned.

  Rita laughed. “That’s why. You were beat. It doesn’t take us both to watch one set of doors and an empty parking lot. Are you okay to drive?”

  I nodded, yawned again, and started the car. “Yeah, it’s not that far. How’d you stay awake?”

  “I had seven hours of sleep last night, plus I did bring an audio book.” She waved her iPhone at me.

  I smiled a sleepy smile and concentrated on driving us home without dozing off again. When we arrived, we left the blankets, water, hats, and gloves in the car, only bringing perishables into the apartment. Rita dumped off her load, herded me into the bedroom and onto the bed, pulled my shoes off, and covered me up. The last sound I heard was the soft snick of the front door as she left.

  I awoke hours later with what felt like a serious case of jetlag, a headache, and a rumbling stomach—whether from hunger or indigestion, I couldn’t be sure. It could definitely go either way. I crawled out of the bed, not sure I’d even changed positions since I fell asleep, and walked into the bathroom. After shimmying out of my clothes, I grabbed a quick, reviving shower and walked to the kitchen to make coffee.

  Cup of joe in my hands, I plopped on the couch and replayed the previous day. As much as I hated to admit it, Sutter might be onto something with the whole politics angle. Bradford Prescott’s motive seemed stronger and stronger the more time went by. But I still couldn’t get past the rare books missing from the library and Linus Talbot’s printouts. And then there was the new information on Alice King. I shook my head. It seemed like the more we learned, the more convoluted the whole thing became. Based on the previous day’s revelations, both Alice and Bradford now had even stronger motives to have murdered Linus, letting Selina drop to the bottom of our suspect list. But then, if mystery books and TV shows could be believed, wouldn’t that make Selina the most likely killer? Wasn’t it always the one least suspected? I sighed and shook my head. Whatever the case may be, I needed to talk to Keith and Sutter about Alice.

  Reluctantly, I stood and went in search of my shoes. I wasn’t sure wh
ere Rita had put them. After a ten-minute treasure hunt, I found them in the back corner of my closet. Who’d have thought?

  On my way to the police station, I stopped by the vet and spent an hour with Eddy. He was up and moving better, but the vet said he wanted to keep him another couple of days, as his liver numbers weren’t quite where he wanted to see them before releasing my dog. I kissed Eddy on the head and, with a lump in my throat, headed to see Keith at work.

  On the way, I stopped at a bakery and picked up a bagel sandwich for Keith and a box of donuts for the department. When I arrived, a desk sergeant asked me to be seated in the waiting area. Forty-five minutes ticked by, and I returned to the front desk to ask how long it would be.

  Keith walked through the back office as I approached the desk, his face lighting up when he saw me. “Jenna, what are you doing here?” He instantly sobered. “Is everything okay?”

  I smiled. “It’s fine. I’ve been waiting to see you and your partner. It’s been over forty-five minutes.” I hoped I didn’t sound as whiny to Keith as I did in my own head.

  His brow furrowed. “Why didn’t someone tell me? We’ve been here the whole time.” He turned toward the desk sergeant. “Hollister, why weren’t we told we had a guest?”

  Hollister held up his hands. “Whoa, Detective. I told Sutter. He said he’d get to it when he had time.”

  Keith’s jaw clenched and his face reddened. “He’d get to it?” He turned to me. “I’m so sorry, Jenna. Follow me.”

  Uh-oh, more trouble in paradise. This meeting was definitely not getting off to a good start, in spite of the donuts I’d brought everyone.

  As we approached Sutter, he turned, caught sight of me and of Keith’s furious look, and his stance settled into belligerent defensiveness—arms crossed, lips pursed, eyes flat.

  “You left her sitting in the lobby and didn’t bother to tell me she was here.” Keith’s calm tone was laced with acid.

  Grunt. “What if I did?” Sutter stepped forward. “We have better things to do than visit with your girlfriend.”

  “Better things …” Keith stopped his sentence and closed his eyes, as if mentally counting to ten. Slowly he opened them and pinned Sutter with a steely gaze. “Sutter, I’ve had enough. In the last three months, you’ve done nothing but crucify Jenna for anything and everything you can think of. Your poor treatment of her ends here, and it ends now.”

  Sutter stepped forward another step and dropped his arms. “Or what?”

  “Really, Sutter? You think I’d damage my reputation on the job with a fistfight?” Keith snorted. “You’re not worth the time. What I’d do is have you up before the board for harassment of a citizen as well as unprofessional conduct. I don’t think you can afford to have more strikes against you right now.”

  The older man blanched, and his jaw muscles clenched. The silence stretched for what seemed like an hour, although it was likely closer to a minute, as I watched a nonverbal battle waged between the two detectives.

  Finally, Sutter took a breath and turned to me with an unpleasant smile, which didn’t reach his eyes, smeared across his face. “How may I help you, Miss Quinn?”

  As much as I wanted to say “Never mind” and run, I couldn’t do that on the heels of Keith standing up for me. I held out the box of donuts. “I brought you some donuts.” I turned to Keith and held out the bag. “And an everything bagel with cream cheese, salmon, red onion, and capers on it for your lunch.”

  “I’m on a diet.” Sutter snatched the donut box and tossed it onto a desk. “Anything else?”

  I gritted my teeth and smiled again. “I have information regarding Linus Talbot’s death.”

  “Of course you do.” Sutter’s fake smile stayed in place, and his soft tone slithered up my spine.

  I cleared my throat. “Yesterday evening, we discovered Alice King has begun selling antique books at auction, providing false information concerning their provenance and condition.”

  Sutter blinked and the smile sagged. “Books.”

  “Yes.” I nodded and rushed on. “We found a listing for a book she’d purchased from my shop, a book that had been damaged and repaired. She knew about the damage, but she lied and said it was pristine and she’d purchased it from a family in Georgia who had owned the book since its publication in 1853.”

  Sutter pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “And this matters how?” The soft, low tone had gained a sharper edge.

  “Linus Talbot caught her selling fake antique books. She was taking reproductions of old books, making up fake histories for them, lying about their values and their condition, and selling them to unsuspecting collectors. He ruined her in the business, and she hated him for it. A few days after his death, she’s back to her old tricks. I thought you should know.” I held my breath, almost jumping when I felt Keith’s hand at the small of my back, his touch so soft I almost missed it.

  Grunt. Sutter’s eyes opened slowly. “Books.” He gritted his teeth. “Books!” The word burst from his lips, the rest of his words pushing out in a shout. “No one kills people over stupid books!”

  “My uncle died over a stupid book.” My soft retort brought him up short.

  “Miss Quinn, I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to muddy the waters with your hairbrained ideas.” Sutter’s tone was low, but his words came out in a growl. “Every moment I waste listening to your chatter is a moment I lose toward catching a real killer.” His voice rose in pitch again. “The next time you want to talk about books, I suggest you do it over pillow talk with your boyfriend! Stop wasting my time!”

  “Sutter!” A voice roared over the top of his tirade. “My office! Now!”

  Sutter paled and his mouth dropped open. Snapping it shut, he stalked across the room toward the open doorway and the man who filled it.

  Keith leaned in and whispered in my ear. “That’s the captain.”

  “Ouch,” I whispered. “I almost feel sorry for him.”

  A sad look flashed through Keith’s eyes. “Don’t. He’s created his own mess, no matter how hard others have tried to help him. I wish I knew what was really going on with him. First your case, now this one. It’s not like him.” His shoulders slumped, and he raked a hand through his hair, an action I’d come to associate with a high level of frustration. “I hate to see him end his career like this.”

  I looked toward the now-closed office door, and a small bit of sympathy for Frank Sutter crossed my mind. While I hadn’t known him any other way than as a bullheaded jerk, if he’d really been all Keith said, it really was sad for him to go out this way.

  “As for Alice, I’ll make sure it’s included in Talbot’s file.” Keith reached out and brushed my fingers with his. “I’m glad you came.”

  My heart skipped at his soft touch, and I held out the bag with his bagel again. “At least you can eat a decent lunch.”

  Keith took the bag and opened it. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’m starving, and there’s no time to run out for something else right now.”

  “I wish this could’ve been a happier visit.” I gave him a quick hug and stepped back.

  “Yeah, well, maybe next time.” He smiled. “I’d love to walk you to your car, but I’d better be here when Sutter comes out.”

  With perfect timing, the captain’s door opened, and Sutter stormed out, heading in our direction. However, he didn’t speak to Keith or me. Instead, he grabbed the box of donuts and marched toward a door down the hallway, slamming it shut.

  “Logan!” The captain’s voice bellowed out again. “My office!”

  I reached out and squeezed Keith’s fingers once more. “Call me tonight.”

  He nodded once and strode across the room and into the captain’s office.

  Before Sutter could come out and find me unprotected, I skittered through the building and back out the front door, not slowing down until I was driving safely toward my store.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I set a plate of spagh
etti on the table in front of Keith. “Eat up.” I smiled, happy to be ensuring he was eating at least twice today. I’d texted him after I’d left the police station. If he could get away between five and five thirty, I’d feed him a real meal before he headed back to work. I’d already taken a plate down to Mason, figuring I could at least feed him as well before we headed out on our stakeout. He’d handled the store alone today with no complaints.

  “Thanks.” Keith spooned freshly grated parmesan cheese over the meat sauce. “This definitely beats another burger out.”

  “I would hope so.” I laughed and sat down across the table from him. “What happened when you went into the captain’s office?”

  Keith swallowed. “This is delicious.” He swirled his fork in the noodles but didn’t pick it up. “They’re letting Sutter stay until he hits his retirement with full pension in March. Then he’s being ‘strongly encouraged’ to retire.”

  “Which means he can still screw up this case?” And how many others over the next four months? I stuck a bite of spaghetti in my mouth, using it to keep me from saying something I probably shouldn’t.

  Keith shook his head. “No. He’ll still be on the case team, but only because he’s been on it from the beginning and has knowledge that’s useful to the case’s closure. They’re bringing in someone new from Boone, LaTisha Riddick, to take over the case. She’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Wow. How’s Sutter taking it?” I couldn’t imagine him being calm about the whole thing.

  “Not well. But it’s either this or they’ll fire him on the spot. This will be his only active case now. After this, it’s administrative duties only.” He ate another bite, closing his eyes. “This is really good.”

  I grinned. “It was my grandmother’s recipe.” I didn’t add that it was the dish I cooked best, and I was working on the old adage of how to get to a man’s heart.

  I took a deep breath and dove in. “What happens to you now?”

  “I’ll be partnered with Riddick for the time being. I have a feeling they’re trying to woo her into staying.” Keith sipped the small glass of wine I’d talked him into.