Death Overdue (Librarian Mysteries) (17 page)

“You go on to bed,” he said. “I’m just going to go down and finish the dishes and set things up for breakfast.”

I knew he had his rituals about how everything must be left in the kitchen, so I did as he asked. But when I got into our bedroom, I sank onto the floor and couldn’t quite bring myself to do all the things I had to do to get ready for bed. Sometimes brushing and flossing just seemed
like too much work. I felt both stirred up and exhausted.

I dug in my pocket, pulled out my cell phone, and called Rosie. She sniffled when she picked up the phone, even before she said hello.

“Rosie?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Richard,” she said.

“Is he sick? Has he been hurt? What’s happened?”

“He thinks we’re spending too much time together.”

I almost laughed, but resisted. Rosie, who had always been the one to scamper away if ever a relationship got too serious, was now having this same reaction thrown back at her. “Does he want to see you less?”

“I’m not sure what he wants, but he said we should take a night off.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, and I miss him already and I’m not even done with work.”

I didn’t want to downplay what she was feeling, but I also wanted her to see that Richard hadn’t made such an unfair request.

“What are you going to do with yourself tonight?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What have you not done since you’ve started seeing Richard, that you miss doing? Something fun.”

“I’ve been eating less. I suppose I could go on a Häagen-Dazs binge.”

“Might do,” I said. Rosie was maybe twenty pounds overweight but had never seemed to worry about it before. Richard was tall and thin. I hoped he wasn’t telling her she weighed too much. That would bode bad. “What about something more outgoing? A friend you haven’t seen? A long walk?”

“Maybe I should get a puppy.”

“Don’t go getting drastic on me.”

“I wish you and I could do something together. I miss you. Maybe I should come over to London.”

I split in two—half of me wanted Rosie to jump on the next plane and come and witness what might become my new life, one I hoped she would be part of; the other half didn’t want her to have to step into the craziness that was going on at the B and B. “Maybe wait a week or two. It’s pretty confusing here right now. Also, Nancy would lose her mind if you left.”

“Maybe Richard would miss me. That would be good, right?”

“I’m sure he would miss you.”

“Have you figured out how that woman was killed?”

“Well, we’ve always known she was killed by too many books, but not how they happened to fall over on top of her, which the police have determined could not have been an accident.”

“And you don’t know who did it?”

I closed the door, not wanting Caldwell to come in while
I was going over the list of suspects. I knew he didn’t want me messing around with this murder.

“Well, I think it has to be one of four people. That’s not including Caldwell, because there’s no way he could have done it.”

“Maybe he did it for you?” Rosie suggested.

“What?” I squawked.

“You know, so you could go ahead with your plans.”

“Rosie, you don’t know him. He’s a strong, thoughtful man, but gentle as can be. Plus, we can go ahead with our plans anyway. If that’s what we decide to do.”

“Okay, so who are the four suspects?”

“The two prime suspects are Penelope, the sister, and Alfredo, the lover.”

“Oh, I like that. They do sound good.”

“Yes, but I don’t think either of them did it. I think they’ve got something going, and somehow I just don’t see how that would lead them to murder her. Unless she had something on one of them that she threatened to tell the other.”

“Could be,” Rosie said.

“Then there are the less-than-prime suspects: Bruce and Brenda. Bruce is a book collector extraordinaire, and Brenda is Caldwell’s helper around here. But Bruce didn’t even know Sally, and Brenda adored her. I’m close to ruling them out.”

Rosie gurgle-laughed. “It sounds to me like you’re ruling everyone out.”

I sighed. “I guess I am. But it has to be one of them. I feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

“I would like to point out to you that Caldwell had the best reasons for wanting Sally out of the way. One, he didn’t like her. Two, she deserted him. Three, she was threatening him with taking away part of the B and B. Four, revenge. Plus, maybe he thought he would lose you.”

“Just because Richard is asking for a night off doesn’t mean you can take it out on Caldwell.”

“Think about it.”

So I did for a moment. Listening to Rosie’s list of reasons for murder, I thought of one that might apply to Alfredo. What if there was something going on between Alfredo and Penelope, and Sally was standing in the way?

“You’ve given me an idea. Thanks,” I said.

“And somehow you’ve made me feel better,” she said.

“Yes, my advice is enjoy your one night away from your guy. And I’ll try to figure out what’s happened here.”

“I think I’ll go shopping tonight.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.

“Call me when you’ve figured the murder out.”

“I will, no matter what time it is.” After I hung up the phone, I stayed sitting on the floor. I needed to do some checking into Alfredo. Who was he? What did we really know about him?

Q
uestions whirled around my mind like a merry-go-round on steroids that night, not allowing me to sleep very well. Caldwell was snoring gently beside me. The sound was often a lovely white-noise machine for me, but that night it didn’t seem to be working. Every hour I would peek my eyes open and check the clock. Finally around three in the morning I caved in, my mind went blank, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

The house was quiet and empty when I awoke at nine. Caldwell had left a pot of tea, which had stayed mildly warm under a tea cozy. He had also left me a note that read: “I’ve gone off on a wild-goose chase. More later when I return.
Back for lunch. Penelope went to her mom’s, Alfredo went off on some mysterious errand. I love you true. C.”

I couldn’t help pressing the note to my chest. He did love me true, and I loved him too. That was enough for right now.

After making some toast, I went and sat in the love seat and looked at the garden. Sally’s garden. Sally. She continued to be the problem. But I had resolved to solve it, and then I would decide how to live my life.

Alfredo would be a good person to start on. I would find out everything I could about him. I hurriedly ate my toast and then ran upstairs to dress. This felt like a workday, so I put on a plain white blouse and a clean pair of jeans. I laced on my tennis shoes and rolled up my sleeves. Time to get things solved.

Then I checked the house out—no one was about. Brenda wasn’t working, so even she was gone. I might never have another chance like this. I retrieved the keys to the rooms from the cupboard in the kitchen.

In front of Alfredo’s door, I paused for a moment. If he returned while I was in his room, I could just say I was changing the towels. To cover my alibi, I grabbed some towels out of the linen closet.

I opened the door and walked in. I shut the door gently and stood, letting my heart quiet and my eyes circle the room. The bed hadn’t been properly dressed yet, but some attempt had been made to pull the sheets and blankets up. A book lay facedown on the bedside table. A suitcase was
open with clothes strewing out of it. When I opened the closet, I saw women’s clothing. Sally’s. She had taken over the whole closet. Didn’t surprise me.

The outfit Sally had been wearing the first day she had come to the B and B was hanging right in front of me, slightly wrinkled looking. My hands slipped into the pockets, and in one I found a piece of paper, blocky handwriting on it: “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

I carefully folded the note and put it in my pocket. The handwriting didn’t look familiar. Who would take care of whom?

The suitcase was the next object I searched. In a side pocket I found a copy of Sally’s last will and testament. It was dated the day before Alfredo and Sally had come to the B and B. In it Alfredo was designated as the heir. I wondered if he had known about it before they arrived. He had acted surprised when he received the news of his inheritance, but maybe it had been just an act.

I needed to talk to Sally’s lawyer. I wrote down his name, William Pendergast, and put the will back where I had found it.

I heard voices in the hall coming toward the room.

Suddenly the idea of pretending to change the towels seemed unbelievable. Plus, there were two voices, and they were coming from right outside the door—Penelope and Alfredo.

I heard Alfredo say, “Come, my darling. We have waited long enough. There’s no one here.”

The key was rattling in the lock.

Without thinking I dropped to my knees and slid under the bed, towels still in my arms.

From my crunched position, I could see the bottom of the door swing open and two pairs of shoes walk in. One was a very fine pair of Italian men’s shoes, and the other was simple black pumps. The four shoes walked to the end of the bed, and then two bodies fell onto the mattress.

My heart sank. What had I done?

Alfredo was whispering a stream of lovely and passionate phrases, and Penelope was merely sighing back, “Yes, yes, yes.”

I was thinking,
No, no, no.

As they moved around, the bed sank on top of me, making the small space I had squeezed into even tighter. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wondered if there was any way I could sneak out of the room while they were in the throes of passion.

I squirmed around until I was facing the bottom of the bed, not far from the door. I thought I’d wait until I saw clothes being flung to the floor. Count to ten and then wriggle out and, staying low, open the door just wide enough to slide out. It might work. But probably not.

Maybe it would have worked, but no clothes were flung. Then one pair of shoes with feet still in them hit the floor. “Tell me why you don’t think the will is legal,” I heard Penelope say.

“Not now, my pastry shell. There will be time for all of that later. But now I just want to put my nose in your bosom,” Alfredo said.

His shoes came down next to hers. The two of them were standing just inches from my nose. Four shoes that I could almost lick if I wanted to. I could see that Penelope had a run in her hose. Alfredo’s socks were a muted stripe, probably silk, and very elegant. The guy knew how to dress, I’d give him that.

Again, they were holding on to each other, kissing and clearly blocking my way out of the room.

Just when I thought I could stand it no longer, a dear voice called from down the hall. “Alfredo, may I speak to you for a moment?”

Penelope hissed, “It’s Caldwell. He mustn’t see us together. I think he already suspects something.”

I certainly suspected something. But I wasn’t exactly sure what. How long had they been an item? I wondered. Long enough to be a problem for Sally? Long enough for one or both of them to want to get rid of her? But why? It didn’t exactly make sense. How would her death serve them?

“It’s okay now. Everything will turn out as we have wanted,” Alfredo said. “You will see.”

“I hope so,” Penelope said. “But we need to be careful. I think you should go out and talk to him. Take him downstairs and then I can get out of the room.”

“Oh, but I have such great desires for you.”

“I have for you too, my darling. But we will have our time. Soon.” She moved him toward the door.

“Tonight,” he said.

“We’ll see,” she said as she shoved him out the door. It closed, and she leaned up against it, sighing.

I wiggled back to make sure I was out of sight. She came and sat on the edge of the bed right over me. A hand appeared and picked at the run in her stockings.

I heard footsteps going down the stairs, and the bed lifted as Penelope stood up. After waiting at the door for a moment, she carefully opened it and left the room.

I waited another minute after I heard her bedroom door shut, then slithered out from under the bed and brushed myself off. I grabbed the towels I had carried into the room and opened the door.

I had only taken two steps into the hallway when Penelope’s door swung open. “Karen,” she said. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Oh, I was doing some laundry,” I said, and offered her the towels. “Do you need some clean ones?”

“No, thank you,” she said, strode past me to the stairs, and descended.

I put my head in the towels, aswirl with what I had learned—Penelope and Alfredo were definitely a couple.