Dangerous Alterations (26 page)

Red circles appeared in the nanny’s cheeks as she stepped back and met Tori’s eyes. “Really?”

She grinned. “Don’t you see? If it was a prescription drug that killed Jeff, all of these silly questions about Milo are moot. He’s the picture of good health. The only pill bottles in his house are vitamins. And last I checked those are
good
for your heart.”

A quick smile lit Beatrice’s eyes with an endearing sparkle. “So you feel better then?”

She reached out, squeezed the nanny’s shoulder. “I feel much, much,
much
better.”

“You won’t tell Georgina I was listening, will you?”

“It’ll be our little secret.” Scooping up four of the six glasses she gestured toward the living room with her chin. “When and if Georgina decides to share the information with us, I’ll act as surprised as anyone else.”

Beatrice ducked her head forward then grabbed hold of the two remaining glasses. “I’m glad you feel better. It makes me sad to see you so upset. You’ve been through so much since you moved here and it doesn’t seem fair.”

“But moving here gave me the greatest friends I could have ever asked for.” She bobbed her head left then right until she caught and held Beatrice’s eye. “And I count you among them. I hope you know that.”

The flush from earlier only deepened in Beatrice’s face. “Thank you.”

They fell into step together as they crossed the threshold into the living room, the familiar chatter that was synonymous with circle meetings suddenly music to her ears once again.

Beatrice stopped in her tracks. “Victoria? Do you think Georgina has a ring for me?”

She laughed. “I think she has one for all of us.”

“Do you know what they are?” Beatrice asked softly.

“Not yet, but I intend to find out.”

The Sweet Briar Public Library was officially the place to be Tuesday morning as resident after resident stopped in to say hello, some there purely out of curiosity about the fire, others because it was as much a second home for them as it was for Tori.

Higher traffic, of course, meant extra re-shelving, but, considering the alternative had the fire not been contained, it was a pleasure.

“Isn’t it wonderful to see so many people here?” Dixie asked, her voice nearly breathless. “And it’s just as many adults as children.”

Tori looked up from the information desk computer and scanned the room, the accuracy of Dixie’s demographic observation catching her by surprise. “Wow, you’re right. And what’s more, the adults seem to be looking at books as much as they are visiting.”

Dixie nodded in agreement.

“But I have to say, I do feel bad telling the kids we need another day or so on the children’s room. They all look so crushed when I say that.”

“I can stay after work today and help with some more of the cleaning in there,” Dixie offered. “Maybe doing that would help ease any leftover guilt once and for all.”

She reached out, touched the woman’s arm. “Dixie, none of what happened here was your fault. If it hadn’t been the coffeemaker that night, it would have happened the next time I plugged in something else.”

“I want to believe that.”

“And you should, because it’s the truth.”

Dixie leaned forward and brushed an unexpected kiss on the top of Tori’s head. “Thank you, Victoria.”

Before she could respond, Dixie wandered out from behind the counter, a stack of books to be shelved in her hands. She watched the woman for a moment, a barrage of Dixie-related memories flashing before her eyes in movie reel fashion …

Dixie glowering at her during circle meetings.

Dixie heckling her during her first board meeting as head librarian.

Dixie continually pointing to Tori as the reason she’d been retired from a job she’d held for more decades than Tori had been alive.

But as the reel continued, she couldn’t help but notice the subtle way the images changed …

Dixie offering to help clean the children’s room.

Dixie complimenting Tori on her job as librarian.

Dixie giving her a kiss.

“Good afternoon, Victoria, beautiful day, isn’t it?”

The familiar voice broke through her woolgathering, prompting the smile that had been virtually ever-present all day to grow even wider as she took in the elderly man standing beside the information desk.

“Mr. Downing, how are you today?” she asked, soaking up every nuance of the man who was as much a staple of the library as the books that drew him in twice a week.

He tipped the lip of his ball cap forward. “I’m quite well, thank you.” He circled his hand around the room. “Things look better in here than I’d hoped.”

“We were certainly very fortunate. The only room that will be unusable for quite some time is my office.”

“How’s that young man of yours? Is he home yet?”

She felt her heart flutter. “Tomorrow night.”

“I’m not surprised. I can see a light in your eyes that’s been missing the past few weeks. Figured he had something to do with it.”

Her face warmed at the accuracy of his words. Despite everything that had fallen on her shoulders over the past few weeks, not having Milo to talk to, Milo to go out with, or Milo to hold and be held by, had affected her more than she could have ever imagined.

“That’s what happens when part of you is missing. Happened to me whenever my Evelyn wasn’t around.”

She met Mr. Downing’s eyes, saw the brief flash of sadness that flitted across his eyes at the mention of his beloved late wife. But just as quickly as the sadness came, it was replaced by the positive outlook the man extended to everyone he met. “It’s one of those rare blessings in life that make you a very lucky woman.”

She knew he was right, knew she’d hit the jackpot the day she met Milo Wentworth.

It was time.

Time to give him the rest of her heart.

She sucked in her lower lip as she imagined giving him the answer he’d been patiently waiting for for months, confident the smile on her lips at that moment would be every bit as bright as the one on Milo’s face.

A cough over by the computer bank snapped her back to the present and the fact that Mr. Downing was eyeing her curiously.

“I’m sorry. I guess I got lost in what you said.” She pointed at the slip of paper in his hand. “Looking for something specific today?”

He handed her the paper. “I’m thinking about soliciting the paper to see if they might be interested in hiring me on as a freelance photographer.”

She clapped her hands softly. “Oh, Mr. Downing, that would be wonderful. Your photographs are always so engaging. They’d be lucky to showcase your efforts.”

He grinned. “I don’t know how lucky they’d be but I sure would enjoy it. It’d give me something to do with my free time instead of coming in here bothering you all the time.”

“Everyone in this library treasures your visits. We always will.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, Victoria.”

She glanced down at the title he’d written on the scrap of paper. “
Encyclopedia of Flowers?
”

Nodding, he reached inside his back pocket, extracted a folded piece of newsprint, and handed it to Tori. “I need to build a portfolio to show them what I can do. I’d like it to include shots of people—candid and posed—as well as things like buildings and plants. But I also need to show them I can caption them, which is a much easier thing to do when there are people as opposed to something stationary.”

It made sense. “So you’d like to see how others have done it with something like flowers?” she asked.

“That about sums it up.”

She considered his request, setting the title to the side of her computer and opening the catalogue screen. “I’ll certainly see if we have this particular book but I’m going to see if there might be one that will suit your needs more.”

He leaned against the counter. “How so?”

Her fingers moved across the keyboard as she explained the reason for her alternate search. “An encyclopedia of this nature is going to give very basic captions to any of their photographs. You know, its name, location, and other details—something of interest to a gardener. Whereas for your purposes, it seems a book that focuses more on their beauty rather than their facts might have more creative captions.”

“This is why folks around here adore you, Victoria.” He waited patiently as she found a few options, jotting down their shelf location in list format.

“Okay, let’s take a look, shall we?” She climbed down off the stool and met Mr. Downing on the other side of the counter, pointing toward the shelves devoted to gardening as she did.

He trailed behind her as she rounded the first shelf, her fingers finding and locating the first book on the list with ease. The second book was found just as easily, while the third required a bit of a hunt.

“I can check the tables if you’d like. It’s possible someone was looking at it today and it just hasn’t made its way back onto the shelf.”

Mr. Downing took the books from her hands. “These will be fine for now. If I need to see more, I can take a walk around the room myself.”

She gently squeezed his forearm. “Enjoy. If you need anything else, let me know, okay?”

“Will do. And Victoria?”

“Yes?”

“That young man of yours is just as lucky. Maybe even more so.”

“Thank you, Mr. Downing.” She headed back toward the information desk, stopping every few feet to greet a patron and ask if they needed assistance.

When she finally reclaimed her spot at the computer, she found she couldn’t concentrate on the ordering she’d intended to do. Instead, her thoughts ran the gamut from Milo and his impending homecoming to the knowledge that Kelly was being located and most likely arrested at that very moment. The charges though, were anyone’s guess.

Sure, Jeff’s girlfriend would be accused of arson; that was a no-brainer. But whether a charge of murder would await the woman as well remained to be seen. For now, all Tori could do was guess.

And guess she did ever since Beatrice had divulged the results of her eavesdropping the night before.

Hushed whispers off to her right made her look up, a smile spreading its way across her face for the umpteenth time that day.

“Hi, Miss Sinclair.”

She waved at Lulu and her little sister Sally before greeting their grandmother. “Isn’t this a nice surprise.”

Margaret Louise hoisted her tote bag onto the counter, reached inside, and extracted a large scented candle from its depth. “I know you’re probably a bit skittish about the notion of lightin’ a match in here ’bout now but if you set it here on the counter and only burn it while you’re sittin’ there, it’ll be fine.”

“It smells like sugar cookies,” Sally chimed in as she hopped from foot to foot. “Mee-Maw wanted lilac but Lulu and I knew you’d like sugar cookies better.”

She laughed. “You two girls are so smart.”

“Miss Sinclair?” Lulu cocked her head ever so slightly to the left, peering at Tori around the computer. “Can we go into the children’s room?”

“I’m afraid you can’t. We have a little more cleaning to do in there before we can open it again.” She couldn’t help but notice the way Sally’s shoulders slumped at the news. “But don’t worry, everything will be back to normal before the end of the week.”

“Do you promise?” Sally asked.

“Sally, hush. Miss Sinclair can’t promise somethin’ like that.”

“I can promise to do my best, will that work?”

Sally nodded then looked around, her shoulders slumping once again. “Are there
any
books for us to read?”

“Miss Dixie can get something for you from the children’s room if you’d like …”

“Can we skip around the trees instead, just this once, Mee-Maw?” Lulu asked. “That way Miss Dixie can help that man she’s helping and not have to worry about us.”

Tori followed the path made by Lulu’s finger, stopping at the sight of her temporary assistant and Mr. Downing, their heads bent toward one another as they pored over the pictures in the man’s book.

“Will you keep an eye on Sally?” Margaret Louise asked.

Lulu nodded.

“You won’t take your eyes off her for one second?”

This time, Lulu shook her head.

“Then you may, but stay close to the front walkway.”

“Yes, Mee-Maw.” Turning to Sally, Lulu extended her hand to her little sister. “C’mon, Sally, let’s go skip under the trees.”

When the pair was gone, Margaret Louise leaned her plump body across the counter and lowered her voice to the closest thing to a whisper the woman could get. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“That ex of yours had Digi-something or other in his system.”

She stared at her friend. “Digi-something or other? What’s that?”

“Okay, so I’m not always good with names. But what I do recall is that it’s some sort of heart medication. Powerful stuff that didn’t take too kindly to his decision to go joggin’ from what I hear.”

So it was official. The news Beatrice had shared was making its way around Sweet Briar.

“I heard that.”

“His doctor in Chicago said his heart was okay, and that he wasn’t on any heart medication. That anyone who knew of his exercise regimen and family history wouldn’t have prescribed it for him, either.”

“How else would he have it in his system then?” she asked even as her mind was barely registering the more detailed information she was hearing than she’d heard the night before.

“I imagine someone found a way to slip it into his system without his knowing.”

She closed her eyes as an unexpected pang of pain shot through her heart. It wasn’t pain over never seeing Jeff again, but, rather, pain at the senselessness of it all.

“How would a girl, obviously skilled as an electrician, come upon a medication like that and know the effects it would have on a runner like Jeff? Is she just some sort of genius?”