by Jacie Floyd
The stench made nausea roil through her empty stomach. Spinning around, she headed back to the open door for a gulp of fresh air.
Graffiti artists had been busy in the columned entryway. And if the town had a homeless population, the odor, along with piles of rags and debris, indicated they’d been using the main reading room for shelter.
There appeared to be little left of the furnishings. Most of what she could see was upended or broken into pieces. Even the drawers of the outdated card catalog had been removed and the cards strewn across a floor. Water spots puddled on the dramatic black and white tile.
But it was the condition of the books that broke her heart. Why would anyone be so thoughtless with shelf upon shelf of books? Doubtful they could be reclaimed or reconditioned after such horrendous treatment.
“Oh, my.” Blinking through a sheen of tears, she closed her eyes. Beside her, Zach vibrated with anger. “Did a tornado sweep through Sunnyside recently?”
“No.” His jaw muscles twitched.
“How did it get like this? Who let it happen?” Helplessly, she was drawn to a shelf of poetry books. Picking up a damp volume, she paged through it. Just as she figured, the combination of sweltering heat and water had resulted in a bumper crop of mold and mildew. She flipped through a few more volumes in the same worthless condition.
Zach’s flushed cheeks and tense jaw communicated his displeasure, annoyance, and maybe even embarrassment over the appalling condition of the building. With a couple of long strides, he arrived at her side, removed the books from her hands, and tossed them on the floor. “It’s no excuse, but after the funding dried up, there wasn’t any money to maintain it.”
She probably would’ve slugged him if she thought he had known and hadn’t warned her. “If Andrew Berkman had been notified, he would have sent assistance—money, maintenance people, carpenters, anything—to keep it from getting this bad.”
“Obviously, no one was paying attention. Everyone’s got a lot on their plates just keeping their own lives together.” Zach pushed fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Or maybe no one wanted him to know how bad it was so he wouldn’t change his mind.”
“Building maintenance and police patrols would have kept a lot of this from happening.” She circled in the middle of the room, feeling helpless. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s checked on the building since the doors closed last December.”
“You’re right.” A muscle jumped again in his jaw. It touched her to see him wrestling with the same sort of fury that threatened to swamp her. “It doesn’t. None of this makes sense. I’m sorry you’re having such a bad beginning in Sunnyside.”
A little niggling twitch in the back of her mind suggested he was at least partially responsible for this mess. She didn’t plan to voice any of the concerns that nagged her, but an accusation spewed out of her mouth. “The level of destruction looks intentional and feels almost personal.”
“No.” Shaking his head, he stepped closer to her. “Why? And who would it be aimed at? You? You don’t know anybody here, do you? Do you think someone could have a grudge against Andrew Berkman? If anyone in Sunnyside knew him, they’d be trying to get on his good side, not sabotage his pet project.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in for a brief consoling hug, unexpected and more comforting than she would have thought possible. He felt good and strong and oh, so competent. All attributes that had been in short supply among the men in her life.
She leaned her head against his shoulder for a scant second. Even though she wanted to sink into his solid strength, she pulled away, afraid to let herself accept or expect too much.
No reason to point the finger at Zach for what had happened here. Not really. But he was a member of the town council, and she couldn’t help thinking they’d shirked their duty. But blame wouldn’t do any good. Sometimes the best course was to pick up the pieces and move on. Part of her job would be turning the situation around.
Tasks for the next day ticked through her brain. “The first order of business will be a cleaning crew and then an estimate to see what renovations are needed and how long they’ll take.”
Zach agreed. “The town council planned to meet with you at noon tomorrow, but I’ll get a team of volunteers over here first thing in the morning so you’ll have enough information by the time you meet them to make a report.”
Obviously, she should accept his offer. Volunteers were much more likely to line up for him than for her. “Now, I’m looking forward to the council meeting, more than ever.” Although she had a few choice things to say to them, she pressed her lips together, trying to hang onto her temper. “Have as many people here as early as you can, and we’ll get started clearing out the worst of this mess. What about a building inspector or contractor to work up a quote? Can you change the location of the meeting to the library so the council can see this firsthand?”
“We can’t change the location of the meeting without public notice, but it’s being held just across the street in the old courthouse. Anyone who needs to can come over afterward to see what you’re up against. But they’ll probably drop by in the morning, as they get word about this.” He stared around in disgust. “Do you want to see the rest of the building now or wait until tomorrow?”
“It won’t be any better tomorrow, and it might be worse. Better see it now.” She peered up at the ceiling, still trying to grasp the magnitude of the problem. “Is there rain in the forecast?”
“Not likely. The farmers say we’re at the beginning of the worst drought we’ve seen in a decade.” He returned to the light panel and flicked on additional lights that made it easier to navigate.
“Shouldn’t we call the police, the insurance company, or something? Town officials?”
“I am a town official, and I’ll see that everyone who needs to be notified hears about it by morning, including the insurance agent.”
Harper remembered a comment Zach had made to Brianna earlier. “Besides, Jimbo brought Jillian and the new baby home this morning, and you don’t want to call him out for a bunch of paperwork.”
“Right. Good memory. I’ll call him if you want, but ...”
“No, you’re right. The morning will be fine.” Despite the disturbing situation, she almost smiled. “I’ve never lived anyplace where you only report crimes when it’s convenient for law enforcement.”
“It’s not like that. I’m just trying to give the guy a break.”
“Very thoughtful.”
Zach rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. “I’ll take pictures and send them to him, just in case all the evidence disappears.”
“Good idea. Me, too.”
With phones in hand, they picked their way through the building. In the basement supply closet, they located a broken window that had been an open invitation to every sort of two- or four-legged rodent interested in accepting. The second floor appeared the least disturbed. The third level had enormous Rorschach stains on the ceiling and the floor, foretelling the greater disaster of leaks in the roof.
Harper needed to notify her boss and not wait on an official report. She made notes about the most pressing issues.
“Andrew should know about this before anyone else.” She momentarily stopped typing. “Just to be clear, you’re not posting those on Facebook or Twitter, or anything like that, are you?”
“God, no. I don’t want whoever’s responsible for this to have the satisfaction of seeing their handiwork spread out all over social media.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Zach stayed close beside her as they continued through the library. He provided her with his support and opinions, lending a hand to lead her around damp spots and assorted rubbish. In return, Harper quizzed him about the previous and current maintenance of the building as well as names of businesses and individuals who would be helpful in the renovations.
As bummed as she was by the condition of the library, her natural optimism began to poke up its head by the
time they called it quits. Her mind raced with ideas for the restoration as they returned to the main entrance. She’d always known she had a big job ahead of her. She just hadn’t known how big.
Andrew had intended to gut most of the place anyway. However, Harper’s inner cheapskate and love of authenticity had wanted to re-use as many of the existing materials as possible and keep the decor rooted to its past. This new turn of events would make it more practical for her to do it his way.
Locking the door behind them, Zach wiped a smudge from her cheek with his thumb. Her cheeks heated when he put his hand on the small of her back to escort her down the stairs. “You’ve had a long day.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but her stomach chose that second to growl. Loudly. Harper chuckled, but Zach smacked himself on the forehead and groaned.
“Jeez, I forgot. You told me you were hungry, and I dragged you all over this decaying mausoleum instead of feeding you. Dinner’s in order for both of us since breakfast was the last meal I had, too. The local cuisine doesn’t offer a lot of variety. There’s no Spiaggia here, but...”
“Spiaggia’s not necessary.” Harper grimaced at mention of the fancy restaurant in Chicago that was so pricey it was only for very special occasions. Blaine had proposed to her in its tiered dining room, so that was an automatic strike against it. “Anywhere will be fine. It would be foolish to say I’m not hungry after my stomach just said differently.”
“What do you like?”
“Almost anything, except—”
“Just a second.” Holding up one hand to silence her, he dug his phone out of his pocket with the other. Then he glanced at the small screen before answering briskly, “Dr. Novak... How bad?... How many?... When?... I’ll be right there.” He shut off the phone with a pained expression. Even though he still stood squarely in front of her, his thoughts had left her far behind. “Seems like I keep having to apologize. I’m sorry about dinner—” He strode down the rest of steps, and she hurried to keep up with him. “—but there was a wreck out on Slaughter’s Bend. A couple of kids are banged up pretty bad. I have to get to the hospital.”
To help her keep pace, he cupped her elbow in his hand, heading her back toward his sister’s house. She dug in her heels. “You go on. I’ll be fine, just point me in the right direction for food.”
He stopped and looked at her, clearly anxious to be off. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Food. Right. Okay. One block north and turn left. Anything that’s open will be that way. There’s a pizza place, a taco stand, a diner. It’s Sunday night, so...” His words trailed off, and she imagined that most places closed early on Sunday. Like the gas station.
She’d be content to pick up some things at the grocery. “Is there a Trader Joe’s or a Whole Foods?”
His headshake reminded her of her outsider status. “In Springfield maybe, not—”
“—not in Sunnyside,” she finished for him. “Right.” Life in a small town. This is what it would be like if Carrie Bradshaw moved to Grover’s Corner. Her choices were limited. But after the day she’d had and on the brink of starvation, she’d forgotten there’d be things to adjust to. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”
“Rachel said for you to eat anything you find at her place, but the pickings are slim.” He hesitated again, leaning away from her like a sprinter preparing for a quick start.
He obviously wrestled with his need to get to his patients and his sense of responsibility for her. Taking a couple of quick steps away, he then turned around and faced her, somehow managing to trot backward, like a baseball player during pre-game warm-ups. “I’ll make up for it in the morning. Pick you up for breakfast at seven, then we’ll head back here for a nice sweaty morning of grunting and groaning...” He let one of his rare grins escape. “And I don’t mean that in the fun way.”
A tiny tingle slithered down her back. She really had to stop reading flirtation into every little thing he said. “What could be more fun than grunting and groaning through the clean-up of a devastated library?”
“You might be surprised.” His eyebrows arched upward.
“I’m usually happy to be surprised but not the way I was tonight.” Even allowing for relocation jitters, this night had been too weird even for her. “See you at seven,” she said, impressed with his backward maneuverability. Maybe that was something they taught in medical school that Library Science courses skipped.
“Hey, Chicago.” Jogging away from her, he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. “Welcome to Sunnyside.”
At two AM, Zach rolled his shoulders and poured another cup of coffee from the machine in the doctor’s lounge. He needed just a few minutes before he went back out there and faced all the people waiting to talk to him. Would he ever get over this feeling of déjà vu whenever he was called in about an automobile accident? Would those old memories just hang around in his psyche no matter how old he got?
Driving to the hospital tonight, he’d been gripping the steering wheel like a scared high school kid who was in over his head and unable to keep his best friend from dying. He’d already been growing up too fast when he’d had the wreck that took Tyler’s life, but that event sent him on an accelerated trajectory to pick up the responsibilities and burdens of those who needed his help. Even if their problems weren’t his fault, he owed it to Ty to try his best to help anyone he could. And he’d made sure that his best from that point on was very, very good.
Jimbo stuck his head in the door. “Heard you were in here.”
“Just filling out some reports.”
“Yeah, I got some of my own to fill out but wanted to see how you were doing.” The Sheriff poured a cup of coffee and slumped onto the sorry excuse for a couch, propping his feet on the coffee table. “This kind of crap never gets easier, does it?”
“No, but this one is no harder than any of the others.”
“They’re all hard.” Wearily, Jimbo rubbed his eyes with his fists. “Are these kids going to make it?”
“Joe and Tommy, yes. Probably. Less certain about Jason.”
“It was Joe driving Tommy’s truck, and Jason, the dumbass, didn’t have his seat belt on. I hope it scares the shit out of them.”
Having been in a similar situation at a similar age, Zach knew that it would. “Hard way to learn a lesson.”
“Is there any other way?”
“Not around here. You know what it’s like. You can’t tell teenagers anything. They have to figure it out for themselves.”
Jimbo grunted. “Parents are outside when you have time to talk to them.”
Standing, Zach stretched out the kinks in his muscles. “Sorry you got called out tonight. I’d hoped you and Tina would get some family time with Maisie.”
“It’s all right. When I left, she was sleeping like a baby.”
Zach shook his head. “And you and Tina were standing over the crib watching her.”
“Well, yeah. She’s such a miracle, we’re afraid she’ll disappear if we close our eyes.”
“You’ll learn pretty quick. When the baby sleeps, you sleep. Otherwise, you’ll both be walking zombies with an adorable tyrant on your hands by the end of the week.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” The Sheriff leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “She’s just so dang sweet.”
Grabbing his laptop, Zach remembered he needed to talk to Jimbo on another subject. “When I got called in tonight, I was at the library with the new librarian.”
Jimbo opened one eye. “Yeah? What’s she like?”
Zach’s dick twitched just remembering those legs. That face. That body. If there hadn’t been a medical emergency, he would have spent the night fantasizing about her every which way but Sunday. “A force to be reckoned with. She’ll be good for the town, if they’ll give her a chance. You know what they can be like.”
“They do close ranks when an outsider appears.”
“And there’s a more immediate problem. The library has been v
andalized, ransacked. Not quite destroyed, but it’s in pretty bad shape. Shook her up to see it like that.”
“What?” Jimbo straightened out of his slouch and dropped his feet to the floor. “How the hell did that happen?”
“It looked like about six different issues going on there. Some of it natural and some man-made, but one thing for sure.”
“What?”
“Graffiti sprayed on the first-floor walls.”
“Aw, crap. I guess I should have expected that.”
“No reason for you to think he’d try to make that kind of statement.”
The sheriff sipped his coffee. “What do we do?”
“Up to you. You’re the law around here.”
“I’ll go check it out when I get done with this mess. I guess I’ll have to meet the new librarian for myself. Where can I find her?”
“She’s staying at Rachel’s tonight, but we’re going over to the library early in the morning and get started on the clean-up. You can catch her there most of the day.”
“You’re going to the library with her early tomorrow? What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing. I’m going in my capacity as the welcoming committee for the council.”
“After working here all night? She must be hot. Tell me again what she’s like. Young? Old? Plain as a stick or curvy as a figure eight?”
Hot didn’t begin to describe Harper, but he’d enter a monastery before he admitted it. “Use your junior detective kit and figure it out for yourself.”
Chapter Five
Fresh from the shower the next morning, Harper peered into the refrigerator, hoping to find something more interesting than she’d found there last night. But not really wanting a pickle relish or mustard snack before breakfast, the choices hadn’t improved a lick. She gingerly pushed aside some hairy-looking leftover container hoping to locate a lone lost yogurt, or even a rogue juice box lurking behind the almost-empty carton of milk, but no such luck.
The cheese quesadillas she’d picked up for supper at El Taco had been delicious but were only a faint memory now. And based on seniority, Cleo probably had dibs on the remaining milk. But seeing as the cat was as devious and sneaky as her historic namesake, Harper wasn’t sure she deserved it.