by Sofie Kelly
“I have an appointment. I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” She scribbled a note to herself on one of the blue library pads. “How’s your shoulder?” she asked, as I turned toward the door.
“A lot better,” I said. “I think I’m going to go to Roma from now on.”
Susan laughed and I gave her a little wave good-bye. I stepped outside, hoping I’d given Maggie enough time to make it over.
A dilapidated pickup was parked in the far corner of the lot. It looked like it was being held together mostly with dirt. Could that be Maggie’s brown truck? I walked across to it. Mags was slumped in the driver’s seat. The passenger’s window was open. “Hi,” I said.
She glared at me. “Get in,” she whispered.
I glanced around the lot. No sign of Will. His truck was parked on the street.
I opened the passenger’s door. It groaned like I was trying to rip it off the truck body instead of just getting inside. I climbed in. “I’m not hiding on the floor mat with my head squashed under the dashboard,” I said.
“You don’t have to get down on the floor, but you could at least duck down your big, giant head,” she said.
I slid down until I was sitting on my spine.
Maggie watched the street from her window. Roma drove into the lot. That made me sink a little lower out of sight. I didn’t want to have to explain to Roma why I was hiding out in a truck that was stuck together with hope, grime and duct tape.
“There he is,” Maggie said.
I took the chance of sitting up enough to see. Will was getting into his truck, talking on his cell phone.
“Let’s go, Starsky,” I said.
She made a face and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She gritted her teeth and tried again. Nothing. Thumping the steering wheel didn’t help, either.
“C’mon, you piece of scrap metal,” she muttered.
Will had started his truck. Maggie looked out the windshield. She opened the driver’s door. “C’mon, Kath,” she said. “Run.”
I ran after her. “This isn’t going to work,” I huffed, already embarrassingly out of breath. “I think he’s going to notice us running behind his truck.”
She reached back to grab my arm and dragged me over to Roma’s SUV, pushing me toward the passenger’s door. Maggie climbed in the back and I got in the front seat. Roma looked at us, more bemused than surprised.
“Roma, you have to follow Will Redfern,” Maggie said. She pointed. “That way.” Roma snapped on her seat belt, started the car and pulled out of the lot. Will was at the end of the street at the stop sign.
“There,” Maggie said.
Roma nodded. “I see him.”
Will kept going straight along Old Main Street. Roma settled in behind him, far enough back that I hoped he wouldn’t notice. She looked in the rearview mirror and gave me a quick sideways glance. “Hello, Kathleen. Hello, Maggie,” she said. “Lovely afternoon for a drive, isn’t it?”
“I can explain,” Maggie said, leaning farther forward in the seat than she probably should have.
“I’m sure you can,” Roma said.
Maggie touched her shoulder. “He’s turning,” she said.
“I see him,” Roma said. “It looks like Will has one of those trucks with a turn signal.”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t laugh. Roma merged smoothly onto the highway, leaving one car between Will and us. I had no idea where we were going, but it wasn’t to the building-supply store.
Maggie sat back in her seat. Roma glanced at me again. “You were going to explain,” she prompted.
“Mags.” I did my best sweeping, Vanna White gesture.
Maggie summed it all up very quickly for Roma.
“Kathleen, I had no idea you’d been injured so many times during the renovations,” she said.
“I didn’t realize it either, until Maggie pointed it out,” I said. “But I’m finding it hard to believe Will made all those things happen on purpose. Why would he do something like that?” And if Will really is capable of violence . . .
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Maggie chimed in from the backseat.
“Wherever Will’s going, he’s in a hurry,” Roma said, glancing at the speedometer. She pulled out to pass the car between Will and us. Will was almost out of sight, over the next hill.
“You’re good at this,” Maggie said approvingly.
“This is not my first rodeo,” Roma said with a smile.
“You make a habit of following people?” I asked.
“No. But I did a lot of car rallying in college.”
Another couple of miles up the road Will suddenly turned off, seemingly into the trees.
“Where did he go?” Maggie asked.
Roma checked the rearview mirror. “There’s no one behind us. I’m slowing down. Watch for a driveway or a turnoff.”
I twisted sideways, but it was Maggie who spotted the road.
“There it is,” she said. “See the gap in the trees?”
“I see it,” Roma said. “I’ll turn up there and we’ll double back.”
She turned around on a service road, drove back to the turnoff and pulled onto the shoulder, just past the gravel road that went back into the woods. “If we’re going any farther it’ll have to be on foot.”
“Let’s go,” Maggie said, undoing her seat belt.
“It’s probably a job site,” I said. “The only thing we’re going to find down this road is Eddie scratching his armpit.”
Maggie paused, already half out of the backseat. “Kath, if all we find is Eddie scratching his armpit or anything—anything—else, I’ll take you to Tubby’s and buy you the largest container of frozen yogurt they have.”
She wasn’t going to give this up, I could see. “Okay,” I said.
We all got out. Maggie led us down the road, sticking close to the grassy edge by the trees. Roma and I followed, dodging low branches.
“You’re going to share that yogurt, right, Kathleen?” Roma said behind me.
“I’m thinking no,” I said.
“I’m thinking it’s a long walk back to the library,” Roma countered.
“You like strawberry?” I asked, without turning around.
“I love strawberry. How nice of you to ask.”
Maggie abruptly stopped in front of me. “Shush,” she whispered.
“What is it?” I said.
Ahead the trail opened into a cleared area. Will’s truck was parked on the left. Up a slight rise a small building was being framed—four walls on a slab, like a boxy, wooden skeleton.
“I don’t see anything,” I said in Maggie’s ear.
“Over there,” she said softly.
She reached back with her hand and pushed my head a little to the right. And then I saw them. Will was standing in front of the framed cabin, kissing a blond woman almost his height.
Roma leaned out around me, then pulled back and looked at Maggie and me. “That’s not Eddie,” she said. “That’s Ingrid. Why is Ingrid playing tonsil hockey with Will Redfern?”
22
Step Forward and Punch
“Ingrid?” I asked.
Maggie waved Roma back behind us. “That’s not Ingrid, is it?” she asked.
“Yes, it is,” Roma said. “Her hair’s blonder, but it’s Ingrid.”
Maggie leaned forward again to look. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “It is Ingrid.”
“Ingrid?” I asked again. “Is that the same Ingrid who was head librarian before me?” Will had his arms around the woman—Ingrid—and their faces were close together.
“Let’s get out of here,” Maggie said. She turned and gave me a little push.
We followed Roma back to the main road and got in the SUV. Roma started the car, eased off the shoulder and started back toward town. “Well, I didn’t see that coming,” she said.
“Me, either,” Maggie agreed.
“I’m lost,” I said. “Explain, ple
ase.”
“Yes, that’s Ingrid who was the librarian before you got here,” Roma said. “And, no, she wasn’t fired, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
It had been what I was thinking. “Doesn’t Will have a wife?” I asked.
Roma nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“So what is he doing with the former librarian?”
Maggie raised her eyebrows and gave me a look.
“Okay, I know what he’s doing, but what does it have to do with the library or me?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Maggie admitted. “But it’s way too big a coincidence that Will is involved with the woman who used to have your job, and you’ve been having problems at the library.”
“But if Ingrid wasn’t fired why would Will have a problem with me? I could maybe see it if he thought I was the reason Ingrid lost her job.” I was trying to be the voice of reason. I looked at Roma. “Roma, are you sure she wasn’t fired?”
She nodded without taking her eyes from the road. “I’m positive. Ingrid gave her resignation to the board right before the renovation plans were finalized. They tried to convince her to stay at least until the major work was done.”
“She obviously said no.”
“She said she had personal reasons for leaving.”
“I heard that, too,” Maggie said.
“That’s why Everett was so pleased to find you,” Roma said.
“Do you think her personal reasons had something to do with Will?” I asked.
“I don’t see how they could,” Maggie said. “It’s not like the two of them ran off to Tahiti together.”
“Maybe she’s sorry she resigned,” Roma said. “Maybe Will figured if Kathleen got hurt, Everett would ask Ingrid to come back.”
“Mags, this is crazy.” I rubbed the top of my shoulder, which seemed to ache more if I stayed in one position too long. “I don’t know that Will had anything to do with what happened to me. Those accidents could all just have been accidents.”
“They could be,” she agreed. “But everything that’s happened has happened because of something stupid Will or his guys did.” She tugged at her seat belt, pulling it a little tighter across her shoulder. “C’mon, Kath, think about it. The radiator they forgot to properly disconnect. The roll of plastic that fell. I’m not a contractor, but I know you don’t need vapor barrier to fasten a plaster medallion to the ceiling.”
“Kathleen, how did Will react when he found out about your accidents?” Roma asked.
I shrugged. “He apologized, but it seemed a bit insincere to me. He always manages to find a way to point out that I don’t understand what’s involved in a major renovation and I don’t know the building.”
“Has he said anything about insurance or liability?”
“No.”
Roma turned the car onto Old Main Street. “I agree with Maggie,” she said. “Why isn’t Will worried about his liability in all of this? Maybe it’s just he’s so caught up in this affair he seems to be having. Whatever it is, someone’s going to get hurt, a lot worse than you’ve already been. If they haven’t already.”
“What do you mean, ‘if they haven’t already’?” Maggie asked.
“Something happened to Gregor Easton at the library,” Roma said.
“Uh-huh.”
“How do we know that something wasn’t another accident meant for Kathleen?”
“You think Will did something to Easton? Will?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Roma said. “Maybe he and Ingrid were together in the library for some reason, and Easton walked in on them. Who knows? I’m just saying be careful, that’s all.”
“I will,” I said. “I have a meeting tonight with Everett. He knows some of what’s been going on.”
“I think you should tell him the rest,” Roma said.
“I plan to.”
She slowed and pulled into the library lot. “Kathleen, Maggie.” She put the SUV in park and looked at each of us in turn. “This has been fascinating to say the least, but . . . get out of my car.”
I leaned my head against the headrest and laughed. “Roma, I’m sorry,” I said. “We kind of pulled you into the middle of this and you’ve been a very good sport.”
“Yes, you did, and, yes, I have,” she said. “Now get out of my car.” She smiled to soften the words. “I have patients to see. The four-legged kind that bite when I keep them waiting.”
Maggie and I both got out of the SUV. “Thank you, Roma,” Maggie said.
Roma pointed across the lot at the old brown truck. “You have to pump the gas twice to get it started.”
“Are you sure?” Maggie asked, shading her eyes as she looked at the rusty half ton.
“That’s Ruby’s truck, isn’t it?” Roma said.
“Uh-huh.” Mags nodded.
“I’m sure,” Roma said. “It used to be mine. Neutral’s kind of mushy, too.” She put the SUV in gear and drove off.
Maggie walked me over to the steps. “I told you Will was up to something,” she said.
“Just because he’s having an affair—assuming he is having an affair—doesn’t mean he’s been trying to get rid of me. Or that he did something to Gregor Easton,” I said.
“What?” she snorted. “You think that kiss was a substitute for a hearty handshake?”
“Okay,” I said. “Probably not.”
“All I’m saying is, be vigilant.” I could see the concern on her face.
“I will. I promise.”
“I’ve gotta go,” she said. “Call me later.”
“I will,” I said. “Are you going to try the truck again?”
She nodded. “Cross your fingers.”
I stood on the step and watched her get into the truck. It started on the first turn of the key. She drove out of the lot with both hands on the top of the steering wheel and a look of intense concentration on her face.
I went up the rest of the stairs and into the library. Lita called just before four to let me know Everett expected to be at my house about eight thirty. I left Mary in charge and headed home at about five o’clock.
Hercules was in the backyard on the lawn chair. Now that I knew what he could do, it wasn’t as disconcerting to find him somewhere unexpected. He jumped down and walked beside me to the back door.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Merow,” he said, and he may have shrugged; I wasn’t sure.
“Maggie, Roma and I were playing Charlie’s Angels,” I said as I unlocked the door. Hercules paused on the second step. “It’s a long story,” I said.
Owen was sprawled on the bench in the porch. He jumped up when he saw us and a whisper of yellow feather drifted to the floor.
“I’m not saying a word,” I said, heading for the kitchen.
The cats kept me company while I changed and made spaghetti for dinner. I told them all about Will and the former librarian. “Maggie thinks Will’s up to something,” I said. Owen gave my leg a swat with his paw. “You always agree with Maggie,” I told him. “You’re not exactly unbiased.”
That got me a cranky kitty glare. I set my dishes in the sink. I still had lots of time before my meeting with Everett. I decided to make cinnamon rolls. I wanted to thank Roma for going along with Maggie’s “Let’s stalk Will Redfern” idea.
While I rolled out the dough I couldn’t help wondering what Everett was going to do and how Will would react. Whether or not he was up to something, he was going to be angry.
When the cinnamon rolls were in the oven I went down to the basement for a new vacuum bag so I could clean up before Everett arrived. That was when I noticed Rebecca’s sweater still soaking in my sink. “Crap on toast!” I said. I’d forgotten about it.
Luckily it was cotton, not wool. I rinsed it in clean water and rolled it in a towel. Then I lugged my folding rack upstairs and spread the cardigan out to dry.
I could smell the rolls. I’d forgotten to set the timer. I jerked open the oven door. They hadn’t burned, bu
t they were extra crispy. And I’d spaced them too close together. The rolls slid off the baking sheet onto the rack like a big cinnamon paving stone.
Herc and Owen had disappeared. I pulled out the vacuum, taking out my frustration by aggressively chasing every speck of dirt on the kitchen floor, even muscling out the stove and fridge.
The cats peeked in once from the living room, watched me for a moment and exchanged knowing glances. After I finished striking terror into the hearts of dust bunnies everywhere, I went out to the porch to check Rebecca’s sweater, hoping it hadn’t gotten small enough to be a winter coat for Owen.
Will Redfern was standing just inside the porch door.
I jumped, sucking in a breath. “Good heavens, Will,” I said, pressing a hand against my breastbone. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you knock.”
“You were vacuuming,” he said. “And I didn’t knock, anyway.”
My heart started thumping in both ears like a drummer keeping time in stereo. I wrapped an arm across my chest. “What can I do for you, Will?” I asked. I tried not to think about what Maggie suspected. I tried not to think about how much taller, heavier and stronger Will was. I didn’t do a very good job of it.
“Go back to Boston,” he said.
“Look,” I said. “I know we haven’t always gotten along during the renovations—”
He cut me off. “You don’t belong here. Ingrid should be the librarian.” He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “I know you know who Ingrid is. I know you and your exercise buddies followed me today.”
So much for being the new Charlie’s Angels. “I thought Ingrid resigned,” I said. Just keep him talking, I told myself. Keep him talking until Everett shows up.
Will clenched his teeth. “That was a mistake. You need to just go back where you came from, because you don’t belong here, anyway. Then Everett will have to ask Ingrid to step in and everything will be just fine.” His voice was getting louder.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize Ingrid wanted her job back.”
“She will when she sees how much everyone needs her.” He kept flexing and squeezing his left hand.
“I don’t think Ingrid would want you to do this,” I said, deliberately keeping my voice low and steady. I couldn’t get around him, I realized. Could I beat him to the kitchen? I didn’t think so. The best I could do was keep him talking.