Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 05 - Just Ducky

by Jeanne Glidewell

  “Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry for your loss. Ducky, your mother, I mean, had just hired me to temporarily replace her at the library until a permanent replacement could be found. I didn’t know her long, but found her to be a very intriguing woman.”

  Barbara had the grace to smile and say, “That’s the understatement of the year. But thank you for your kind words.”

  People in line behind me were beginning to sigh, cough, and make themselves known in any way they could. One even whispered to the customer in front of her, “Will we still get waited on if that woman is still yacking when they lock the doors?”

  Embarrassed once again, I said, “I guess I better keep the line moving.”

  “Yes,” Barbara said. “We close in ten minutes.”

  * * *

  I was really curious why Barbara Wells referred to Quentin as a “no-good, gold-digging bastard.” There must be more to Quentin than meets the eye, I thought. Knowing Barbara would be clocking out shortly, I decided to wait in the parking lot for her to exit the post office. I parked my car where I could keep an eye on both doors. I hoped she didn’t think I was stalking her when I approached her as she left the building. I’d had a stalker before, while investigating a previous murder, and I knew how scary it could be. I didn’t want to frighten Ducky’s daughter, just gently pump her for more information.

  As it turned out, she didn’t seem at all surprised to see me waiting for her as she came out the back door. “Hello again,” she greeted me with a friendly tone.

  “Hello. I don’t mean to pry, but I am involved with the investigation of your mother’s death—”

  “There’s an investigation going on?” She stopped and quickly interrupted me. “I was under the impression it’d been ruled a suicide and no investigation was deemed necessary.”

  “Yes, you’re correct,” I agreed. “But I have reason to doubt Ducky would take her own life, and I’ve taken it upon myself to look for evidence to prove otherwise. What do you think? Do you think your mother could honestly have killed herself?”

  “Well, I know she’d been on a lot of anti-depression medication, and was upset about having to retire, so I never questioned the official cause of death notated on her death certificate. It was pretty cut and dried, so I’m not sure you taking on such an uphill battle is warranted, or worth your time and effort,” Barbara said. I couldn’t read her eyes through her sunglasses, but I got the impression she wasn’t interested in helping me with my mission to prove her mother was murdered. Maybe the possibility of that conclusion would be too much for her to bear.

  “You’re probably right,” I said. “Do you mind me asking why you don’t like your stepfather?”

  “Quentin was only interested in my mom for one reason. He wanted her for her money.”

  “Money?” I asked. The Duckworthy house was nice, but very modest, and I’d seen nothing there that indicated Ducky had any substantial wealth. I doubted a small town librarian cashed huge paychecks.

  “Well actually, it’s her investments. She had a very impressive collection of first-edition books, worth well over a million dollars. Instead of taking vacations, buying expensive cars or nice clothes, she spent her spare money on old books.”

  I could certainly agree Ducky didn’t waste a lot of money on nice clothes. I smiled at Barbara, and encouraged her to continue with her story.

  “Mom owned most of these books before she even met my stepfather, but, now that she’s passed, he thinks he should inherit everything she owned. As her only child, I feel like I deserve the biggest chunk of her wealth. I don’t know where the bastard gets off thinking everything Mom owned and worked for should now belong to him after just a couple years of marriage to her!”

  Barbara’s demeanor had gone from being soft-spoken and cordial to being so angry she was nearly shouting. People on the sidewalk across the street were staring at us. I hoped no one thought she and I were in the midst of an argument.

  I calmed her down as best I could, and told her I’d look into the matter if at all possible. I didn’t tell her, however, that her no-good gold-digging stepfather was already busy boxing up her mother’s book collection, as if in a hurry to dispose of the valuable items. I wondered if he already had a buyer, someone anxious to purchase the entire first-edition collection. As an assistant librarian for a number of years, I was aware there were first-edition copies of some of the classics worth many thousands of dollars.

  I walked Barbara to her Ford Taurus and helped her get in it, telling her I’d probably be in touch, and then hurried over to my own car. I was anxious to get home and find out what Stone had learned in his meeting with the city manager, and tell him what I’d learned about Ducky and her daughter.

  Chapter 13

  Stone was out in one of the flowerbeds digging up bulbs when I pulled down the driveway. We’d had a frost the night before, and he’d mentioned that morning he needed to get the lily, gladiola, and elephant ear bulbs dug up and put away in a cool, dark corner of the basement until spring. He said they were too tender to withstand a harsh winter, as our local weatherman had predicted we might have this year.

  I took my two Wal-Mart bags inside, and by the time I’d put my purchases where they needed to go, Stone had joined me in the kitchen. After he washed and dried his hands at the sink, we both grabbed a cup of coffee and went out on the back porch to chat.

  I told him about my day first, keeping my accounting very brief because I was anxious to hear what he had to say about his meeting with the Rockdale City Manager. He nodded, knowingly, as I told him about Ducky’s valuable book collection.

  “So, what did Elroy Traylor have to say?” I asked, impatiently. “Did you discover anything incriminating?”

  “Incriminating? No. But I did come to the conclusion he had no part in Ducky’s death.”

  “How did you come to that decision?” I asked.

  “First, we talked about the tourism budget for next year. He agreed tourism was crucial to the economy of Rockdale, since most people come here to visit all our antique stores, and unique specialty shops downtown. They also tour the numerous historic homes in the area, and in the process, they stay in hotels and bed and breakfast establishments like ours. A lot of money in our city’s coffers originates with visitors.”

  “Very true. I’m glad he’s aware of how much money tourism brings to this town. So, what are his plans?”

  “Traylor told me he’s increasing the tourism budget by thirty percent next year, which is even more than I’d hoped for. He wants to put some of the money into increasing the promotion of our annual Rockdale Days festivities, and the nightly country music concerts in particular. They’re planning on bringing in some pretty big names, like JoDee Messina, and a popular Black Sabbath tribute band. There’s going to be something from just about every genre of music.”

  “Will the front man of the Black Sabbath tribute band bite the head off a bat like Ozzie did?” I asked, with a dramatic shudder.

  “Ugh, don’t count on it. But we do have a popular jazz band lined up for opening night. They’re from New Orleans originally, and feature a first-class saxophone player performing some awesome solos.”

  “Cool. I’d like to go to the jazz concert! It sounds terrific,” I said.

  “Me too. Jazz is my favorite kind of music.”

  “Really?” I asked. “I learn something new about you every day.”

  “Same here. I just discovered you like to horde stamps and send out your ‘multitudes’ of Christmas cards around Halloween.”

  “Yeah, right. The few people I send cards to are lucky to get them by Valentine’s Day. So, is Snoopy coming to Rockdale Days to represent the rap genre?” I asked, in jest.

  “I think you mean Snoop Dog, and no, that’s one genre that won’t be represented. According to local demographics, Rockdale’s median age is about forty-five, so the interest in rap music is limited. Most of our young people move to the city to find better-paying jobs after they get th
rough with their schooling. In fact, if it weren’t for our small community college, our median age would probably be pushing sixty.”

  “No doubt. So, what was your impression of our city manager?”

  “As a businessman and public employee, I believe he’s very competent. As a person, I think he’s high-strung and doesn’t lack in the ego department, but I found him friendly and engaging. He had his secretary bring me a cup of coffee after I joined him in his office. Very robust coffee, I might add, with a terrific flavor. I think you’d really like it too. Do you think you could call his office and see what kind of coffee they use?”

  “I’m sure I can, and I promise I will, but get back to your conversation with Traylor.”

  “After we discussed the tourism budget, we spoke mostly about the sports teams in Kansas City. He was happy the Chiefs look strong this year and that the Royals should have a number one draft pick due to their poor record this last season.”

  “Go on,” I prompted, hoping he’d soon get to the part about why he didn’t suspect Traylor had any involvement in Ducky’s death.

  “Traylor told me he caught a ten-pound largemouth bass this weekend in a farm pond just south of town,” Stone said, with a lot more enthusiasm than I felt about the city manager’s trophy catch. “Oh, and did you know he’s related by marriage to Rosalinda Swift from the Rockdale Historical Society? His wife is Rosalinda’s niece.”

  “Stone, I don’t really care if he’s related to the Pope. What did he say about Ducky? You could have just gone to the local greasy spoon to listen to a bunch of old crows tell fish stories and discuss sports teams, while you drank one buck-fifty cup of coffee, and fourteen free refills. Didn’t you get around to discussing Elroy’s plans to buy the library property and build an apartment complex, at all? Did you mention the dead librarian that he just happened to be at odds with? Ducky had told me her dislike for Traylor went far beyond the fate of the library.”

  “I’m getting to that part. Have patience, my dear,” Stone said. “Traylor told me he’s now considering purchasing a plot of land next to the theatre that’s vacant and offered at a ridiculously low price. He said the location is not quite as ideal as the library and Subway area, but big enough to build twice as many apartments.”

  “Did he say anything about Ducky or how she died?” I felt like I was beating a dead horse to death again.

  “Yes, he seemed somewhat distressed at the notion she had killed herself. But when I mentioned her being upset at the idea he’d demolish the library and build apartments there, he told me he got a kick out of their ongoing debate, but there was no way she could have prevented him from getting what he wanted.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet,” I said.

  “You know, Lexie, Elroy Traylor’s a powerful man with a domineering, almost arrogant, personality. He didn’t seem nearly as emotionally involved in his and Ducky’s dispute as she did. Kind of like he considered her nothing more than an annoying gnat he could brush off his shoulder anytime he felt like it. He’s not the type to let his plans be thwarted by a ninety pound senior citizen, and certainly not the type to risk losing his empire by killing a librarian he didn’t even view as a threat.”

  “You’re probably right, and I trust your judgment, so I’ll cross him off my suspect list for now.”

  “But he did tell me something about Ducky that you were just mentioning. I remember you telling me Ducky argued with a woman with a dark complexion, long raven hair, and bangs on the morning of Ducky’s death. Traylor had a photo of his family on his desk. It was Traylor with three sons, two teenaged boys and one about college-age, and a mixed race woman matching the description of the one Ducky quarreled with. When he left the room to speak with his secretary, I snapped a picture of his framed family photo with my cell phone to show you.”

  When Stone brought up the photo of the black-haired woman, I said, “That’s her! That’s the woman I saw argue with Ducky and then storm out of the library. I recognize Elroy’s oldest son too, from the library parking lot when he was helping his father survey the property. But what really puzzles me is, why would Traylor’s wife have a spat with Ducky?”

  “Her name is Tina, and I was almost sure she was the one you saw arguing with Ducky, after Elroy told me his wife also collected first-edition books, although her collection paled in comparison to Ducky’s, he told me. Mrs. Traylor is from a wealthy family, Elroy said, and his wife was interested in purchasing two books from Ducky, which were J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, by Mark Twain of course. The second one alone is a signed, mint- condition copy from 1885, and worth about a hundred-grand, according to Traylor. Tina offered Ducky a very substantial amount for the pair, and Ducky wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “Maybe she didn’t want to break up her collection,” I said.

  “No, it wasn’t that at all. In fact, she had collected the books over the years as a sort of retirement account, and was now going to sell them to help finance their retirement plans. Mostly she wanted to purchase a home with some acreage to put in a horse arena for her daughter and grandkids, all who compete in equestrian events, and a large garden for herself to putter around in,” Stone explained.

  “I could not have imagined Ducky ‘puttering’ anywhere. ‘Tromping’ through a garden, maybe. But if selling her collection was Ducky’s plan, why wouldn’t she consider Tina Traylor’s offer?”

  “Elroy told me his wife went to see Ducky Tuesday morning, which would be the encounter you witnessed at the library, and raised her offer for the two books a significant amount. Ducky declined the offer, saying she wouldn’t sell anything to a Traylor, even if it meant living in her car for the rest of her life. I take it Ducky had a strong stubborn streak,” Stone said with a smile.

  “Yes, I think that’s a fair assumption. I’d imagine she was ridiculously headstrong, and the type to stick to her principles, no matter what! Well, that does fit with what Ducky’s daughter told me today, but now I’m wondering if Quentin knew about Tina’s desire to buy the books from Ducky. The fact that he was boxing up the books makes me think he could have already arranged to sell her those two, or perhaps the entire collection. He has no qualms with either of the Traylors, most likely, and according to his stepdaughter, Barbara, he’s anxious to sell the books and keep all the proceeds to himself.”

  “It’s possible he’s made some kind of deal with Elroy’s wife,” Stone said. “But Traylor didn’t mention it. He could well have thought it was none of my business, and he may just not know yet about any arrangement made between his wife and Quentin Duckworthy.”

  “Tina’s a striking woman with that long black hair, and she has a very fit-looking body from what I could see,” I said. “She pretty much towered over Ducky, and yet Ducky seemed to have the upper hand in their quarrel. But, I know from my own experience with her, she could be very intimidating, despite her size.”

  “Elroy is tall too, and has a well-toned body, as you no doubt noticed when you met him in the library parking lot. He told me both he and his wife work out at Gino’s Gym, rarely skipping a day. She usually gets there as soon as it opens, and Elroy works out in the evenings after work.”

  “Where’s Gino’s Gym?” I asked. “I’m not real up-to-date with the exercise facilities in town. I know every single place in Rockdale a person could buy a cup of coffee in a caffeine emergency, but not one place where you actually pay people to let you sweat all over their property while pushing your body to its absolute limit. It just sounds like pure craziness to me!”

  “I know, it sounds dreadful to me, too. But Gino’s Gym is right next to the high school. They took over the school’s old gymnasium when the school district enlarged the school and built a newer, more modern gym with more capacity. The school’s athletics department has a contract with the gym too, and use it as a training facility for the athletes,” Stone said. I was always amazed at how Stone seemed to amass knowledge, as if through osmosis, and was always abl
e to spit out facts and statistics about any given subject at the appropriate time. I couldn’t remember what I read on the front page of the Rockdale Gazette by the time I got to the third page of the paper.

  “I wish I had that kind of ambition and commitment to an exercise regimen. In fact, if Gino’s Gym or the Traylors are interested in them, I’d be happy to donate our treadmill and elliptical machines to them. We’ve used them approximately twice since we bought them, and they’re taking up valuable storage space.”

  “Good idea, Lexie. I think our good intentions and desire for better-toned bodies flew out the window as soon as we remembered why we never used the exercise equipment we’ve each owned in the past. It’s hard work, and it’s not a hell of a lot of fun. Not nearly as enjoyable as lying in the recliner eating chocolate swirl ice cream. So, sure, I’ll ask Elroy if he and Tina would like them,” Stone said. “I think you and I can stay in reasonably good shape by continuing to go on long walks after supper, like we’ve done pretty much ever since we met.”

  “Yeah, I agree. And fortunately, we both love to walk. I’m not sure about even asking the Traylors, now that I think about it. They are wealthy and probably already own their own machines, or would if they wanted them. I’d rather ask Gino’s Gym first, since the high school uses the equipment so often, and I always like to support educational pursuits as much as possible.”

  Actually, the extent of my support for the local schools had been buying a couple raffle tickets from the Future Business Leaders of America club. I won the red and white quilt with the appliquéd hearts we now use in the “Honeymoon Suite.” They’d raffled the handmade quilt off when they set up a booth at the fair, in order to earn money to attend the state competition in Jefferson City. Buying two raffle tickets hardly made me a prime candidate for the “Philanthropist of the Year” award, but Stone didn’t question my dedication to education, and agreed with my idea to donate the equipment to the local gym.