The Broken Spine

by Dorothy St. James

  He head-butted my hand. I scratched behind his ears, earning a loud purr. He butted his head against my hand again.

  “Let’s get you home, little guy. We can play more there. Plus, there’s a can of stinky fish waiting for you.”

  When I started to zip the carrier closed, Dewey bit my hand. Hard.

  “Ouch!” I hugged my hand to my chest. “What did you do that for?” He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. He didn’t even look sorry as he jumped out of the carrier. “Where are you going?”

  I checked my hand. It stung, but his sharp teeth hadn’t broken the skin. That little troublemaker! I jumped up and chased after him.

  He was making a dash for the vault’s thick double doors. I hadn’t pushed them all the way closed. Though they’d been left open only a sliver, it was enough for a skinny cat to shimmy through. I tossed open the doors and made it into the basement’s hallway in time to watch him scamper up the stairs.

  “Dewey!” I whisper-yelled. I’m not sure why I bothered. He didn’t stop.

  Had Mrs. Farnsworth left yet?

  Had Anne?

  He’d behaved so well all week. What was Dewey doing? Why had he bitten me?

  I took the steps two at a time and quickly reached the main library. The space still felt foreign and cold without the rows of shelving filled with books. I wondered if I would ever get used to the changes.

  Without the shelves, Dewey had fewer places to hide. Or so I thought. He scurried toward a row of computers and disappeared in the shadow of the tables.

  Hitching his carrier’s strap higher on my shoulder, I hurried after him. “Dewey,” I whispered and clicked my tongue. “Dewey! Come back here.”

  Again, because he was a cat, he ignored me.

  All I could do was hope I could catch him before he got himself into trouble. He emerged from under the tables and ran toward the media room, where Duggar had been killed. Like a well-trained minion, I followed. I watched, somewhat transfixed, as he sniffed the exact shelf that had toppled over onto Duggar. He then scratched at the base of the shelf.

  This was my opening. I lunged forward to catch him. But my little scamp saw me coming and skittered away, his nails clicking on the terrazzo floor. As he rounded a corner, heading directly toward Anne’s office, I noticed he had a ripped piece of paper hanging out of his mouth.

  Where did he get that?

  I crouched down next to where he’d been scratching and found nothing. With a sigh, I continued my pursuit of my errant cat. I didn’t have to go far. He’d stopped in front of Anne’s open office door. The lights inside were still on. Her machines were still humming.

  I was about to make another mad dash to try to catch Dewey when I heard Anne’s voice. She sounded upset.

  “Nothing is working out how I’d planned. Nothing,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what to do.”

  I froze. Who was Anne talking to?

  “Eavesdropping?” someone whispered in my ear.

  I jumped. Once I’d prised myself off the ceiling, I whirled around to find Jace standing directly behind me, a puzzled grin on his face. I put my finger to my lips and then pointed to the open door. Dewey’s ears flicked front and back as he peered inside Anne’s office.

  “What—?” Jace started to ask.

  He cut the question short when we both heard Anne say with an exasperated sigh, “What happened to the mayor’s son was an accident.” There was a pause. “Yes, I was angry!” she shouted. “It won’t affect—”

  She fell silent again.

  Much to my chagrin, Dewey sauntered into Anne’s office as if he owned the place.

  I stifled a yelp and started to go after my cat. Jace put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Wait,” he mouthed.

  “Nooo,” Anne cried, her voice growing louder. I walked a few paces to my left until Mrs. Farnsworth’s office came into view. Her door was partially open, but the lights inside had been turned off. She must have left for the day.

  Good. If she spotted Dewey, she’d tear me to pieces, and I mean pieces that were smaller than what came out of the paper shredder she kept in her office.

  “You told me that if I came to this little section of nowhere and did what I’ve done, you could get me nationwide front-page coverage. Why did the mayor ignore me? I thought you told me that you had everything under control, Auntie. That you would take care of getting me the recognition I deserve. But he handed it all over to that idiot son of his who can’t even hold his own in a fight.”

  “Who is she talking to?” I mouthed.

  Jace shrugged.

  Dewey sauntered back out of Anne’s office. He batted at the scrap piece of paper he’d been carrying in his mouth. He hit the paper back and forth, back and forth.

  “I can’t talk about this right now. I’m too upset. I don’t know what I might do,” she shouted.

  A moment later, Anne stomped out of her office. She nearly stepped on poor Dewey. He hissed and ran over to me. Her startled gaze flicked from the cat to Jace and finally to me.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “Chasing after my cat.” I picked up Dewey. At the same time, Jace bent down and picked up the piece of paper Dewey had been using as a play toy. He stuffed it into his pocket without even looking at it. “I’ve been bringing him to work with me. I can’t leave him home alone. He needs to eat three times a day. And if I leave a large amount of food in the bowl, he’ll gobble it all down at once and throw it back up. As you can see, he’s terribly underweight.” All of which was one hundred percent true.

  I carefully lowered Dewey into his carrier.

  “You should hire someone to come and feed him in your own home,” Anne snapped. “You can’t let him run around here. There’s too much electronic equipment. He might damage something. If I see him here again, I’m going to have to tell Mrs. Farnsworth.”

  I pushed down the kneejerk anger that flared whenever she spoke to me. She was upset. Understandably so.

  Had her anger flared like this earlier today? Did her anger make her violent? I already suspected her of killing Duggar to clear the way for her to take center stage. Had we just overheard her confessing to her aunt that she’d attacked Luke? Was this the proof I’d been hoping to find?

  I drew a steadying breath before asking, “Are you okay?”

  “Why would you care? You’ve tried to stop me from doing my job from the moment I’ve arrived.”

  Well, she was right about that.

  “If you don’t mind, Ms. Lowery, I’d like to talk with you about what happened here today,” Jace said, slanting me a look I wasn’t sure how to interpret.

  Anne backed away from Jace. “I already told you what I know.”

  “Just a few follow-up questions.”

  Anne backed even farther away from him.

  “Please, Ms. Lowery.” He gestured toward a nearby seating area. “Just a few questions to help us catch whoever is responsible for the troubles that have plagued this library.”

  Anne gave a sharp nod. “I . . . I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”

  Jace gestured for Anne to precede him. I started to follow along. After all, I wanted to hear what she had to say. Would she break down and confess to attacking Luke? If she did, that would be a relief. I could stop wondering about Tori and her bandaged hand. And Charlie. I could stop wondering why he’d gone upstairs when he should have stayed in the basement helping Flossie.

  We were nearly to the seating area when Jace turned toward me. “Don’t you need to get home and feed Dewey his dinner?”

  I refused to take the hint. “He should be fine for a few minutes.”

  “Tru”—he smiled that devastating smile that had the power to melt my knees—“go home.”

  I reluctantly left. Jace was finally taking my suspicions about A
nne seriously. He would do the right thing. He would ask the right questions. I didn’t, however, leave the building. There was a question that still needed to be answered.

  Who was Anne’s aunt?

  Anne had told me that she used to spend summers at the lake with her aunt in Cypress. I’d taken that to mean that her aunt wasn’t a resident of the town but had owned one of the seasonal cottages on the lake. Most lakefront homes were only used in the summer.

  Yet from what I’d overheard from Anne’s side of the phone conversation, it sounded as if her aunt was a powerful member of Cypress society instead of some nameless summer resident. Well, if that was the case, I knew exactly where to go to find the name of Anne’s local auntie. I headed straight toward the library’s South Carolina Room, where the local documents were stored.

  I’d reached the door when I remembered how the renovations had changed everything.

  The South Carolina Room was now a “teen hangout” space.

  I spun on my heel and then raced back downstairs to our secret basement bookroom. There, in the far right corner, it was easy to find the papers I’d saved from the landfill. In less than ten minutes, I sat back in the wooden chair.

  The name on the paper in front of me wasn’t the name I’d expected to find. But there it was, in black-and-white. I bit my lower lip. She’d promised to help Anne? But I’d thought she was helping me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Delanie Messervey was Anne’s aunt? If that was true—and, according to the papers I’d found, it was—why had Delanie pretended to be upset over the changes to the library? After all, Anne had told me herself that her aunt was the one who’d supported her move into town. She had encouraged it.

  Why had I stupidly invited Delanie to the secret bookroom? I knew she was close friends with Mrs. Farnsworth. That should have been reason enough to keep my mouth shut around her. And now this?

  I was still berating myself for being too trusting by the time I pulled into my driveway that evening. I groaned as I fed Dewey. I cursed under my breath as I changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and an old T-shirt. My stomach twisted as I glanced into my fridge. I quickly shut it again. I felt too upset to eat, which meant I was pretty upset. I rarely missed a meal.

  Sitting on the living room floor playing with Dewey took my mind off, well, everything. Like a dog, my little kitty played fetch with the new toy fish Jace had bought for him. I’d squeak it and then throw it. He’d proudly carry it back to me and nudge my hand until I threw it again. The way he’d pounce and roll made him look like a furry ninja in training.

  After a while, even his antics couldn’t keep my mind from the library’s reopening and the attack on Luke. Without really paying attention to my kitty, I tossed the toy fish. Dewey didn’t return it. Instead, he jumped up onto his favorite chair—an old recliner my father had given me. The skinny kitty started to thoroughly clean the fish. Even across the room, I could hear the scrape, scrape, scrape of his rough pink tongue.

  I pushed myself up from the rug and brushed at the cat hair clinging to my shorts.

  Enough sitting around and moping. I needed to talk to Delanie. I needed to confront her.

  But not alone.

  I texted both Tori and Flossie and asked them to meet me at Perks in a half hour. I then texted Delanie and asked her to meet me there an hour after that. When she didn’t reply right away, I told her that I needed to talk with her about undoing the changes Anne had made to the library. I figured that would get her attention.

  It did.

  She agreed to meet me.

  For a Thursday night, Perks was crowded. Heck, I didn’t remember ever seeing the place this crowded, not even during a Monday morning coffee rush.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Tori after air-kissing her cheeks. “Why’s everyone here?”

  “Sunshine Diner had a pipe burst about an hour ago and had to close its doors. And there’s also him.” She nodded toward the barista bar, where the crowd was the thickest. Even the police chief was there, eating a croissant.

  “Who?” I craned my neck one way and then the other. I couldn’t see who had captured everyone’s attention.

  “Luke,” she said. “He checked himself out of the hospital. He said he needed a strong cup of Joe to fix his headache, not a hospital bed.”

  “Really?”

  Tori grinned. “He’s good for business.”

  “Who is?” Flossie asked as she rolled up beside us. Tori and I both air-kissed her cheeks before answering. Flossie whistled. “Where’s the mayor?”

  Tori shrugged. “Not here. He never comes here.”

  “Has Luke said anything about what happened to him?” Flossie asked. “He’ll have to say something eventually.” Luke had stepped into view. He was carrying one of Tori’s extra-large cups. He had a slab of gauze taped to his forehead, and one eye was completely swollen closed. “It’s not like his ‘I was attacked from behind’ story is going to hold up with him walking around looking like that. He’s a mess.”

  “That’s the truth,” Tori said. “He doesn’t look like the triumphant hero returning from a battle. He simply looks scrawny and beat up. I’m surprised he’s showing his face in public at all.”

  I squinted as I watched him. Unlike at the library, where he’d been clearly uncomfortable and unprepared to play the role of technological wizard that his father had expected of him, here he worked the room with the same political effortlessness as his father. His smiles came easily. He joked with everyone around him as if they were all old friends. But there was something off about how he was acting. I didn’t simply mean how he was superficial, like his father. No, there was something else, something I didn’t realize I was noticing until he glanced over at the door for the fifth time.

  He was watching for someone. He hadn’t come to Perks to socialize or to convince the locals that he hadn’t been seriously injured. It looked like he was here to meet someone.

  “We should question him,” Flossie said.

  “Yes,” Tori agreed. “I bet if I turn on my charm, I could get him to tell me what really happened in that little room. I’ll sashay my hips like this”—she demonstrated—“and he’ll tell me who hit him.”

  “It was Anne,” I said.

  “Not that again.” Tori rolled her eyes as she looked up at the pressed tin ceiling.

  “Honey, you’ve got to look beyond your feelings about that girl,” Flossie said, gently. “You’re hindering our investigation.”

  “I’m serious. This isn’t about Anne calling me a dinosaur or making snide comments about how my job is irrelevant. I overheard her talking with Delanie on the phone. She practically confessed to attacking Luke. Jace was there. He heard her too.” I drew a long breath. “Delanie is helping Anne.”

  “Have you lost your mind? You’re accusing our Delanie of helping take apart the library? That can’t be true.” Flossie wheeled her chair toward me. “Delanie is a defender of the library. She’s worked as hard as the rest of us to save those books.”

  Tori snorted.

  “What?” Flossie demanded. “The Friends of the Library Association has raised more money in the past couple of years under Delanie’s presidency than it has in the history of the organization.”

  Tori snorted again.

  “Go on, say what you’re thinking instead of hissing and spitting like an angry cat,” Flossie demanded.

  “All I’m saying is that she’s not the paragon everyone thinks she is. And one day the truth will come out.”

  “I think that day is today,” I said, still stinging over the realization that Delanie had been helping the enemy all along. “I invited her to meet us here. I hope you don’t mind. I could use the support when I confront her.”

  “Why would we mind?” Flossie asked. “That’s what friends do. Besides, I look forward to giving Delanie the chance to expl
ain herself. I’m sure when her side of the story comes out, we’ll all be friends again.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m glad to be here to help you pull her down from that high horse she rides around on, Tru,” Tori said with a sly smile.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Flossie said. “The both of you will see for yourselves that Delanie is honest and modest. She’s not someone who rides around on a high horse.”

  We moved toward a table that had just opened up. Luke was still working the room like a pro. I considered sending Tori over there to work her wiles on him, but I needed her. Luke could wait. He was still watching that door the way Dewey watched that toy mouse of his. Just then the door swung open, and once again Luke’s gaze flew over to the entrance. This time, though, he stopped mid-sentence and stared.

  The man at the door was tall, slender, and devastatingly handsome. Nearly as handsome as the irritatingly good-looking Detective Bailey.

  “Charlie’s here,” Tori cooed. Why would Luke be watching the door for Charlie? “Excuse me for a moment.” She hurried over toward Charlie.

  Cypress’s new bookseller wasn’t looking in our direction. He scanned the room until he spotted Luke. The two men nodded at each other.

  Luke’s smile grew wider but tighter. He turned back to the man he’d been talking to. He laughed. Everything seemed to go back to normal for him. But he kept looking over his shoulder in Charlie’s direction. Tori brushed a kiss on Charlie’s cheek before wrapping her arm around his. She pulled him to the front of the line at the barista counter. And all the while, Luke kept watch. All the while, the mayor’s son’s smile grew tighter.

  What was going on here? Was Luke jealous of Tori and Charlie?

  “Did you know Luke before he moved away?” I asked Tori when she returned to our table. She carried a tray with three mugs of coffee and (bless her) three chocolate croissants.

  “Not really. He must have still been in elementary school when we were in high school. Remember, I married Number One right out of high school.”