"A Murder In Milburn", Book 3: Death In The Library (2 page)

“Expect a big turnout today?” Nora asked.

“I do, actually.” Grant said. “Selena is pretty famous, and Robert Foxworthy even more so. I know a lot of people are looking forward to hearing them speak. Ah, here’s Selena now.”

The first thing most people noticed about Selena was her neon and purple hair. It hung in choppy bangs, obscuring her blue eyes. She was dressed in red shoes and a navy blue dress, looking as professional as a banker from the neck down.

“Nora.” Selena nodded. “We’ve met before, right? My sister in law is very excited about that diner you two are planning to open.” She popped a cinnamon peanut cookie into her mouth, chewed for a second, gulped it down and nodded. “Yes, I can see why.”

“Well, Robert should be here soon.” Grant glanced at his watch. “Perhaps the two of you would like to rehearse your questions… or…”

Selena waved it away. “We know what we’re supposed to do. Go on stage, blabber a bit about the writing process, sound mystical, eat some applause, and hopefully raise funds too.”

“Nora’s cookies will raise funds just fine,” Grant said. “I’m more concerned with filling seats. There was a time when this library was always bustling. Now, people just go online. I get lonely in here some days. I’m just sitting around with nothing to do.”

“Maybe you should write a book,” Nora suggested. “I can’t think of a better place to do it.”

Selena raised an eyebrow. “You think it’s that easy, writing a book?”

“Oh… no… I just meant it would be a fun way to pass time.”

Selena’s cheeks turned pink. “Some of us take it a little more seriously than that.”

“Ah… Selena, Robert’s messaged that he’s almost here,” Grant said, hurriedly changing the topic. “He mentioned in his email that the two of you were good friends in college.”

“I don’t remember that.” Selena frowned.

“Well, you’ve seen his photo on the book jacket, haven’t you? Maybe you’d recognize his face if not his name.” Grant held out a heavy paperback with “
Magpie to the Morning
” in bold orange on its dark blue cover.

Selena flipped through the pages, looking disinterested. She paused as she reached the last page, and her fingers rested on the photo of the author. Nora saw the sudden pain, and indecision, that flashed across her face.

“No. I don’t remember him,” Selena said.

“Oh. Well. He was most enthusiastic about coming here,” Grant said. “I, of course, was delighted. Have you read the book, Nora?”

“I loved it,” Nora said. “It’s amazing.”

“What’s it about?” Selena asked.

“It’s a semi-fictional book about a man who decides to trek across America to get over the love of his life cheating on him,” Nora said. “Even if you’ve never had your heart broken. If you’ve ever just felt like you want to throw a few clothes in a bag and vanish into the arms of the world, vanish into the wild… this book is for you.”

Selena looked at Nora’s flushed face, and laughed. “Why I believe someone has a little crush on Mr. Foxworthy.”

“No… it’s not that. It’s just that I’ve always been torn between running away from everything and being anonymous all my life, and having a community whose fabric I’m tightly sewn into,” Nora said. “I guess I spent ten years running, and now I appreciate the community… but sometimes, I see a bird in flight and wish it was me.”

“
I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on earth. Then I ask myself the same question
. That’s a good quote by Harun Yahya.” A deep baritone filled the quiet of the library, as did the sound of heavy boots.
 

The man who had walked in had dark circles under his sparkling green eyes, and a thick, full salt-and-pepper beard that made him look rather like a greek king. He stood a head above the rest of them. Loose clothes were casually draped over his body, betraying the muscle underneath when he shifted and stretched, dropping his backpack to the ground with a thud.
 

Nora saw Selena’s fists clench. “Robert Foxworthy, I presume?” she said.

“You knew me as plain old Robbie Jones.” He smiled. “Hello, Selena. You’ve put on a few pounds since college.”

“And you… you’ve lost about half your bodyweight,” Selena said. “Too bad you haven’t gained a sense of humor in the process.”

Grant stepped in between them. “Sorry, is there a problem? I thought you said you were friends, Mr. Foxworthy.”

“Oh, we
were
,” Robert said. “A long time ago, we used to be friends. But I haven’t talked to her lately at all.”

“Well, it’s no wonder you haven’t. You look like you just came back from Antarctica.” Selena gave a haughty look at his dirty cargo pants and paint flecked black T-shirt. “You didn’t have a clean shirt?”

“Actually, I just landed back in the country,” Robert said. “I was out on an expedition bringing solar electricity to remote villages in Guyana.”

“That sounds
amazing!
” Grant exclaimed. “You must tell our audience all about it.”

Robert smiled at Grant, his face looking a little more relaxed.

Nora, whose eyes had been glued to Robert and Selena’s obvious little drama, couldn’t help but notice how
staged
it all seemed. As if he’d rehearsed every word in his head a million times before he stepped into that library. The false casualness with which he chatted with Grant was completely revealed by the quick glances he threw at Selena. Selena on her part was studying Nora’s plate, and picked out another cookie.

“Well, we’ve got fifteen minutes to go,” Grant said. “I’m going to go check on the mic and speakers again. Why don’t you and Selena come up onstage too?”

“After you.” Robert made an exaggeratedly polite motion with his hand, allowing Selena to walk ahead of him.

“Um, Mr. Foxworthy, before you go…” Nora shot out from behind her counter, and bought out a copy of her book. “I wonder if you’d be so kind as to autograph my--”

“You’ve read
Magpie to the Morning?
” Robert smiled at her. He bought out a fountain pen from one of the many pockets on his pants and signed the first page with a flourish. “Nora, right?” he asked, nodding at the name tag on her shirt.

“Yes. Nora Newberry.”

He fumbled and dropped the book, then bent down to pick it up, but bumped heads with Nora. “Sorry, sorry.” He took a step backwards, rubbing his head, and took the book she held out. “Nora Newberry? Seriously? You’re the one woman I’d come into town to meet.”

“That’s not totally true, I’m sure,” Nora said, looking beyond him and to Selena, who was now giving acid looks toward the two of them.

“Oh, forget Selena.” He made a gesture of crumpling and throwing away a sheet of paper. “Nora Newberry, amateur detective whose solved not one, not two, but
three
whole crimes all in one small town. You’re a modern day Miss Marple.” He looked her up and down. “A more attractive version, perhaps.”

“Everything good here?” Harvey waltzed in, his face mild and expressionless, though Nora could see the immediate suspicion that sprang up in his eyes as he scanned Robert’s face.

Robert shook hands and introduced himself to Harvey. “I’m a writer,” he said.

“I’d have pegged you for a bodybuilder.” Harvey smiled. He walked over and very deliberately kissed Nora on the lips. “How’s your day going?” he asked her warmly.
 

“Hasn’t started yet, really,” she said.

“I swung by to remind you we’ve got dinner with Mayor Almand tomorrow,” Harvey said. “Also to give you this.” He handed her a wrapped sandwich. “You cook so much for others and completely forget to eat, Nora Newberry.”

Nora laughed, touched. “I’ll be fine, Harvey. See you tonight.”

“No you won’t. I’ve got a meeting with the mayor and a few others. About that resort we were proposing, remember? Knowing these guys and their enthusiasm to talk, it’ll probably take me until 2am to get back.”

“Of course.” She smiled. “Alright, good luck, darling.”

He kissed her once more, this time snaking his hand across her waist and putting one hand on the back of her neck. Nora let out an appreciative purr. With a grin and a final kiss on her forehead, Harvey left.

Robert watched him leave with an amused expression, and asked Nora, “Is he always that obvious about his insecurities?”
 

“Aren’t you?” Nora snapped, feeling her temper rise.

Robert looked at Selena, and said, with a thoughtful look. “I guess us men always are.”

*****

Chapter 3

“So where
do
you get your ideas from?” Someone in the audience asked.

Selena and Robert were both sitting on stools, with a nervous Grant holding the mic between them. There were forty chairs set in front of the makeshift stage, and almost three quarters of them were full, a huge turnout indeed. Nora had already refreshed the jug of pomegranate tea three times. The jar next to her had a pleasing amount of dollar bills and change rattling in it.

Selena, a crowd favorite, answered quickly, “I get my ideas at Costco. I buy a few dozen at a time. They sell them cheap in bulk.”

There was laughter and applause.

Smiling so that her dimples showed, Selena said, “Well, in all honesty, I think most of us had no problem with having ideas as children. It’s when we grow up that the problems start. Ideas are … fragile things. They’re like bubbles that pop at even the slightest hint of criticism, even if that criticism comes from ourselves. All ideas are tied to our deepest psyche. Anyone who has a truly original idea is getting it from the child in him, and the child inside you is a fearful, secretive creature. So I think the question really is not where do you
get
your ideas but rather how do you
keep
your ideas? How do you avoid criticizing an idea, no matter how bad it sounds initially, and how do you avoid killing an idea by being over enthusiastic about it and then losing steam? Personally, I’ve had to learn the hard way. I went through two years of writer’s block before I could function again. I finally decided that no matter how terrible an idea seems at first glance, I’d always give it a chance.”

“Great point, Selena,” Robert said, “I’d like to add that while the ideas themselves are very important, it’s doing the work that’s even more important. Look at Shakespeare. Everyone knows he heavily “borrowed” ideas from others. There’s historical indications he may even have been a plagiarist. He was a genius, yes, but the important thing was, first and foremost, he was a craftsman. He worked.”

There was a stir as various audience members spoke at once about Robert’s views. Grant stepped in immediately.

“Alright, on that note, I’d like to call a fifteen minute recess,” Grant said. “I’m sure everyone’s thirsty and Nora’s tea is delicious. It’s waiting for you right by the jar where you can drop some money to help out our library’s renovation plans.”

Tina walked over to Nora, and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. “How’s it going? Need some help?”

“I’m good.” Nora smiled. “You were right about Selena. She’s much more fun on stage than in person.”

“Told ya.” Tina grinned and took a sip of the tea. She was tapping her feet and biting her lip, and Nora paused to really look at her. “What’s the matter with you?” Nora asked. “You look like a kid waiting to open up her birthday presents.”

“Well… I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I’ve got some news. Some really good news.”

“What is it?”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather wait for us to do it over champagne?” Tina grinned.

“Tell me!”

“Our diner’s licenses are finally all in place. We can open up as early as the 20th!”

Nora let out a little shriek that had a lot of heads turning towards her. Ignoring them all, she’d grabbed Tina and squeezed her hard. “I can’t believe it!”

“It’s going to happen! Are you ready, really and truly ready?”

“You bet I--”

“What’s with the squeaking?” Selena wandered over, dropping a dollar in the jar.
 

Tina told her and Selena congratulated both of them.
 

“It’s really nice how Sam’s supported your newest little venture,” Selena said.

Tina glared at her. “It’s not a
little venture
, Selena. We’re quite serious about it.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Selena said, but the smirk on her face told Nora that she was still smarting about Nora’s earlier comments on Grant writing a book.

“Well done with the talk, Selena,” Nora said, offering an olive branch. “I especially liked that bit when you said that all writing is autobiographical.”

“Thanks. I plagiarized that bit from a writer named Donald Murray,” Selena said. “I’m sure Shakespeare would heartily approve.” She said this last while looking at Robert, who had managed to shrug off a few fans and walk over to them.

“More tea please,” he said to Nora, ignoring Selena. His face was a little flushed.

Nora handed it over to him while he shook the jar, and then dropped some coins in.

“Well, anyway, as I was saying, we should seriously consider the 31st. It’s a good day to start the diner, I think,” Tina said.