Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery)

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Kitty, have you considered the possibility that Robbie’s child might have figured out who his father was?”

  Kitty looked at her. Her light-brown eyes were watery with unshed tears.

  “Think about it,” Lindsey said. “How would you feel if you were a seventeen-year-old boy with a famous father who just abandoned you? Wouldn’t you be angry? Wouldn’t you want revenge?”

  “No,” Kitty said. “I made a promise to Robbie to keep his secret safe. I won’t break it no matter what you say. It’s the last thing I can do for him.”

  She strode out of the office, slamming the door behind her. It really didn’t matter. Kitty had confirmed enough for Lindsey to go and talk to Emma Plewicki.

  She hated to think that Dylan had anything to do with Robbie’s death, but there was no way she couldn’t tell Emma what she knew if it meant catching Robbie’s killer. Even if the killer was his own son.

  22

  Emma was not in the station when Lindsey stopped by. The officer on duty let her leave a note for Emma to call her, and promised to get it to the chief as soon as she came in. Lindsey couldn’t deny that she was relieved. She really didn’t want to tell Emma about Dylan’s probable connection to Robbie, and even though she knew it was the right thing to do, she was loath to do it.

  Dress rehearsal was scheduled for seven o’clock, and Lindsey knew it was an all-hands-on-deck sort of evening. She glanced at her cell phone and noted that she had an hour until she had to be at the theater.

  There was a nip in the air and the temperatures were supposed to drop into the forties tonight. She glanced across the street at the Blue Anchor. She could feel the lure of Mary’s stuffed flounder calling her with the little cheesy potatoes and steamed broccoli on the side paired with a nice, crisp glass of white wine. Yes, definitely. If she was going to get through tonight, she needed to fortify herself.

  Lindsey hurried across the street and cut through the small town park. She was almost at the restaurant when she saw the familiar, stumpy figure of Harvey Wargus striding across the parking lot ahead of her. He stopped beside a big Lincoln Town Car with commercial plates. The window in back rolled down and Harvey leaned close to talk to the occupant. Interesting.

  Lindsey knew Violet had banned Harvey from coming into the theater. There was nothing she could do, however, about stopping him from buying a ticket for opening night. Lindsey studied the car. Who in Briar Creek would have a driver? There were a few New Yorkers who owned summer houses and were driven up from the city for long weekends and short vacations, but they wouldn’t be here in the off season unless it was a holiday.

  No, this was someone who knew Harvey, someone who was wealthy; and with the tinted windows, Lindsey could only surmise that it was someone who didn’t want to be seen. Someone like Charlene’s father, Sterling Buchanan.

  Without pausing to think it through, Lindsey crossed the parking lot and leaned into the open window beside Harvey. She wanted to get a good look at the man who had broken Violet’s heart, abandoned his daughter and now, according to Charlene, seemed to think he had a right to have it all back.

  “Well, hello, Harvey,” she said. “Whatcha doing?”

  Harvey jumped and banged his head on the top of the door frame.

  “What? Huh?” he asked. He clapped a hand on the top of his head and rubbed the sore spot. Then he glowered at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just being neighborly,” Lindsey answered. She didn’t look at him. Her gaze was fastened on the man in the backseat. If there was a stereotype of the narcissistic, egomaniacal corporate billionaire, Sterling Buchanan fit it to perfection.

  He was dressed in a suit that probably cost as much as Lindsey made in a year. Large, square diamonds flashed at his cuffs and on his tie. His fingernails were buffed and polished, and his gray hair was cut with such precision that Lindsey wondered if his stylist had used a level to make sure it was perfect.

  This was a man who was not only wealthy but clearly felt the need to let everyone else know precisely how wealthy he was. When she’d been working at Yale, Lindsey had come to know many alumni who were wealthy, and her favorites were always the ones who looked as comfortable in jeans and sweaters as they did in suits and gowns.

  “How do you do, Mr. Buchanan?” she asked.

  He raised his eyes in surprise. “This was a private conversation.”

  “Like I said, I’m just being neighborly,” Lindsey said. “And I’m sure my dear friends will be interested to hear that you’re in town. So, are you just passing through or staying awhile?”

  He glared at her. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

  “Lindsey Norris, the town librarian.” She extended her hand, which he ignored with disdain, making her feel as if she was something that just crawled out of the compost heap. Nice. “Harvey and I are old friends. Right, Harvey?”

  He swallowed and looked panicked. “No! I just use the library, that’s all. I hardly even know her.”

  “Aw, really, Harvey?” Lindsey asked, batting her eyelashes at him. “After all that we’ve meant to each other.”

  Harvey looked like he’d swallowed a golf ball whole.

  “Well, Ms. Norris,” Sterling said. “We wouldn’t want to keep you.”

  Lindsey knew that this was his way of dismissing her. It was fine. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to get any information out of either of them, but it was interesting that Sterling was in town. And it gave her hope—a small, flickering flame of hope—that maybe there was someone who wanted Robbie dead more than Dylan.

  “So thoughtful of you,” Lindsey said. “But I imagine I’ll see you both at the show?”

  Harvey glanced away, but Sterling just stared at her. His eyes were cold, and Lindsey wondered what the warm and vivacious Violet ever could have seen in him.

  She stepped away from the car and continued on to the Blue Anchor. She pulled her phone out of her purse to see if Emma had called. She hadn’t, but Lindsey figured she now had two things to tell the chief of police and she sincerely hoped that she was right about one of them.

  Lindsey pulled open the door and stepped into the restaurant. Ian was working behind the bar and greeted her with a wave.

  Mary was in the corner, talking to their assistant manager, Kelly Martin, who would oversee the operation of the restaurant while Ian and Mary were at the theater. Lindsey took a seat at the bar, and Ian strolled over with her glass of wine already in hand.

  “Lindsey, what can I get you to eat?” he asked. “Or do you need a menu?”

  “Stuffed flounder, please,” Lindsey said.

  “I like a woman who knows her own mind,” Ian said. He turned around and hollered her dinner order through the small square window that overlooked the kitchen.

  “Are you ready for dress rehearsal tonight?” she asked when he came back.

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Why didn’t you audition earlier?” Lindsey asked.

  “You mean, aside from my horrible case of bashfulness?” he asked. Lindsey laughed. Ian was about as bashful as a Kardashian.

  “No, really,” she said.

  “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d have time,” he said. “The restaurant business is never ending, you know.”

  “Well, it was great of you to step up,” Lindsey said. “You’re really saving the day.”

  “Don’t praise him,” a voice said from behind her. “He can barely get his swelled donkey head through the door as it is.”

  “Well, it takes an ass to know an ass,” Ian quipped.

  Lindsey spun on her stool to find Sully standing behind her. He grinned at Ian and then at Lindsey, and she felt her insides do the same cartwheel they always did when he looked at her just that way.

  “Hi, Sully,” she said.

  “Hi,” he said. “Mind if I
join you?”

  “No, please do,” she said.

  “What are you having?” he asked.

  “The stuffed flounder,” she said.

  Sully looked at Ian. “Make that two.”

  “On it.” Ian glanced between them with an affectionate smile. He poured Sully’s usual beer and put it on the bar before strolling off to check on his other customers.

  “So, how are you?” Sully asked.

  “I’m all right,” Lindsey said. She glanced down at the bar. This was awkward, given that the last time she had seen him, she had come very close to kissing him.

  “Has Emma made any progress?” he asked.

  “Not that I’ve heard,” she said. “Apparently, there were quite a lot of people who would have preferred Robbie Vine to be no more.”

  “You know I’m not one of them, right?” he asked.

  Lindsey glanced at him and knew just like she always had that Sully could never have harmed Robbie.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Not that I didn’t want to punch him in the jaw a couple of times,” Sully said. “But even if you had chosen to be with him in the end, I hope you know I only want you to be happy.”

  She wasn’t sure why Sully was being so forthcoming with her but she liked it. She put her hand on his arm where it rested on the bar. “Thanks.”

  They stared at one another for a few moments and Lindsey felt as if Sully was letting her see a side of him that he usually kept to himself. He was letting her know that it had bothered him that she and Robbie had developed a friendship, but that he would never begrudge her happiness.

  She smiled at him, and he leaned close and said, “I’ve really missed you.”

  Lindsey opened her mouth to tell him the same but she was interrupted.

  “Dinner is served.” Ian put two plates down on the bar in front of them.

  Lindsey leaned back from Sully and smiled at Ian. Sully glared at him, and Ian asked, “What? That’s what you ordered, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, a heaping plate of lousy timing,” Sully said.

  Ian glanced between them and grinned. “Nothing worth having is acquired easily, and I should know. It took me three solid years of begging to get your sister to agree to marry me.”

  “That’s because she’s too good for you,” Sully said. “If it were up to me, you’d still be begging Mary to make an honest man of you.”

  “Spoken like a true older brother,” Ian said. “Tell me, Lindsey, do you have an older brother I should be calling?”

  Lindsey laughed as she took her silverware out of her napkin roll. “My brother, Jack, is much too busy gallivanting all over the world. He only comes when I sound a distress call.”

  “Which you are too proud to do,” Sully said. He put his napkin on one knee while he tucked into his cheesy potatoes with his fork.

  “Not too proud,” Lindsey said. “Just waiting until I really need him.”

  She broke off a piece of the flaky fish and popped it into her mouth with a little bit of the crabmeat stuffing. It was warm and moist and seasoned perfectly.

  “So, how is it?” Ian asked.

  “Excellent,” she said.

  “Terrific,” Sully agreed.

  Ian beamed at them and then moved down the bar to refill another patron’s drink.

  “So, you never told your brother when you and your ex broke up?” Sully asked.

  “Oh, I told him,” she said. “But I didn’t make a big deal out of it. Relationships end. It happens.”

  “Did you ever tell him about us?” Sully asked. He wasn’t looking at her but instead studying his plate. Lindsey got the feeling this was important to him.

  “Yeah, I told him when we started dating,” she said. “He liked that you were a boat captain.”

  “I like him already,” Sully said.

  “I also told him when we broke up,” she said.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, and I cried,” she said. “Then he wanted to sink your boat.”

  “You cried?” Sully’s voice was soft and he looked at her with eyes that were narrowed with guilt and pain.

  “Yes, but I think I was just being overly dramatic,” she said. “I had just had a near-death experience, after all.”

  “I’ll never forget it,” he said. His blue gaze met hers in a look of such angst that Lindsey felt her breath catch.

  It occurred to her that maybe Sully hadn’t dumped her because he felt she needed time to consider whether she wanted to be with her ex or not, but rather because he had come so close to losing her that it scared the snot out of him and he had done what any same person would do: cut and run.

  She stared at him and he asked, “What?”

  “There you are!” Violet came racing into the restaurant. Her caftan floated around her and she looked harried as if she’d been running all day. Nancy was right behind her, looking equally stressed but wearing her favorite blue track suit.

  “What are you people doing here?” Violet continued. “Don’t you know that tonight is dress rehearsal? We have to go!”

  Sully glanced at his watch. “Violet, breathe. We have a half hour until we have to be at the theater.”

  “Really?” Violet asked as she sank into a nearby stool. “Oh, bother.”

  Nancy slapped the bar to get Ian’s attention. “Two cosmopolitans, Ian, and make them doubles.”

  “Is that wise?” Lindsey asked.

  “You’re right,” Nancy said. “I probably should have ordered triples.”

  Sully and Lindsey exchanged a grin and dug into their food. For a few brief moments, Lindsey felt as if everything in her world was okay. She was with Sully and they were surrounded by their friends. Then the door to the Blue Anchor banged open and in strode Sterling Buchanan.

  23

  “Definitely should have ordered a triple,” Nancy said. She took the drink Ian handed her and downed half of it in one swallow.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Violet snapped. “What the hell are you doing here, Buck?”

  The entire restaurant went quiet as everyone glanced from Violet to the man in the suit.

  Lindsey leaned close to Sully and said, “An old boyfriend of Violet’s.”

  “What is it with old boyfriends coming to Briar Creek?” Sully muttered. “Violet, do you want me to show him the door?”

  “And me,” Ian chimed in. “It’s my restaurant. If someone needs tossing, I’ve got dibs.”

  “Spoilsport,” Sully said.

  “Enough you two,” Violet said. “Answer me, Buck.”

  “It’s good to see you, Vi,” he said. His gaze seemed to drink in the sight of her.

  Violet La Rue was a beautiful woman. Her dark complexion was rich and exotic. She had large brown eyes and a gently sculpted face with high cheekbones, a square jaw and a generous mouth that gave her cheeks deep dimples when it curved into a smile. She was wearing her usual flowing caftan, but it clung to her curves and managed to look sexy instead of matronly.

  “Really?” she asked. “You are not the type to get sentimental, so what is it that you want?”

  “You know what I want,” he said. “Another chance for us.”

  “Uh-huh, so you’ve said,” Violet replied. “How does your wife feel about that?”

  “She understands that a man has—”

  “Oh, shut up!” Violet interrupted him. “I know exactly what you’re doing, what you’ve been doing with your fancy bouquets of flowers and all that garbage. You’re trying to woo me back in hopes that Charlene will give you a chance. Well, forget it. I’m not buying the long-lost-love bit.”

  “So cold, Vi,” he said. His voice was reproving, and Violet arched an eyebrow as if to say she so wasn’t going to play games with him.

  “Spill it,” she said.

&nbs
p; “As the father of your child—” he began.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Violet interrupted amidst a chorus of gasps. “That child is a grown woman with children of her own. You chose not to be her father when she needed one, so don’t be thinking you can be one to her now.”

  “I think I want to punch him,” Sully muttered to Ian.

  “Get in line,” Ian said.

  “I’ve tried repeatedly over the years to be in her life and in yours,” Sterling said. He looked annoyed. “But the two of you have been very insulated by your little actor friends. You always shut me out, Violet, and Charlene followed your example.”

  “Oh, please,” Violet snapped. “I am not interested in your revisionist history. You didn’t show up in her life until she was eighteen. And yes, she has had a lot of surrogate fathers, and they have been wonderful to her. Robbie Vine, in particular, was more of a father to her than you’ve ever been.”

  “Well, given that Robbie is dead now, don’t you think it’s time for her to get to know her real father?” Sterling asked. He looked so angry that Lindsey felt a chill creep down her spine.

  “The choice is hers,” Violet said. “But I’m pretty sure you know that, just like you know what her answer is.”

  “But that’s unacceptable,” he said. He yanked on the cuffs of his shirt. “Violet, you have to undo the damage you’ve done. Time is slipping by.”

  “You narcissistic jackass. You walked out of her life before she was even born and now you’re aware of the time going by?” Violet said. “Man up and live with the consequences of your choice and stop trying to blame it on everyone else.”

  “That is—” Sterling looked nonplussed to be spoken to in such a manner, and Lindsey had to keep herself from cheering out loud.

  “What? The truth? You can’t buy a child’s love, Sterling. You have to invest yourself, not your checkbook, into your offspring. Now, I’m sorry that high-pedigree wife of yours couldn’t provide an heir for you, but Charlene has no interest in you or your fortune. So, respect her wishes and leave her be.”

  “This isn’t over,” Sterling said. His jaw was clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep his temper. “I sent Harvey Wargus here to write about the show. He’ll write whatever I tell him to. He can make or break you, Vi.”