Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) (3 page)

L
indsey met Sully’s glance and felt her insides go all fluttery. How did he do that with just a look?

“Oh, wow, is that the lemon?” Mary asked.

She was looking at the stage, and Lindsey dragged her gaze away to see Ms. Cole, one of her more dour employees, on stage. She had the script clutched in her hand and was standing with Milton Duffy, who was also reading for a part.

“I think they are reading for the parts of Oberon and Titania, the faerie king and queen,” Ian said. “I could see Milton carrying it off with his Sean Connery good looks, but the lemon?”

Lindsey got an uncomfortable feeling in her belly. Ms. Cole, nicknamed “the lemon” by Beth because of her sour disposition, was an old-school librarian who believed in shushing and the prompt payment of fines.

Lindsey was pretty sure Ms. Cole would be delighted to use thumbscrews in order to encourage their patrons to pay their fines if Lindsey would only let her. As crazy as Ms. Cole made her, however, Lindsey really didn’t want to see the woman humiliate herself. Lindsey had never been one to take joy in the misery of others.

She had never thought of Ms. Cole as a theater type, but then again, Ms. Cole kept to herself. Who knew what went on under her monochromatic clothing? Each day, she dressed in a variety of shades of one color. Today it was head-to-toe blue, from her navy shoes to her pale blue blouse. Until she met Ms. Cole, it had never occurred to Lindsey that not all shades of blue complement one another. On the upside, it was infinitely more cheerful than her usual all-gray or all-brown outfits.

“I didn’t really think of Ms. Cole as one to get the acting bug,” Nancy said. “She seems too buttoned down to cut loose into a character.”

“From the top,” Violet instructed.

Lindsey rose from her seat to watch the performance as did the others.

Milton read Oberon’s lines in a deep and resonant voice. Without even looking at the pages in her hand, Ms. Cole spoke Titania’s part. Her voice was clear and projected throughout the theater.

Lindsey stared in wonder. Ms. Cole, with her stout build and head full of gray sausage curls, was not how she would have envisioned the faerie queen, but her voice was musical as it wrapped around the bard’s words, making them dance on the air and in the ears of the listeners.

Nancy and Mary were gaping at the stage as well. Lindsey knew they were thinking the same thing she was: that if Ms. Cole lost the monochromatic clothes and wore a flowing gown with a wreath of flowers in her hair, um, perhaps with a wig of flowing hair, well, it was possible she’d make a lovely Titania.

“Is it just me?” Mary whispered in Lindsey’s ear, “or is the lemon blowing the doors off of the place?”

“It’s not you,” Lindsey confirmed. “And if Violet is willing to cast an older Oberon and Titania, I think the two of them just nailed it.”

When the reading was over, Violet thanked both Milton and Ms. Cole. Milton smiled and put his sheets on the edge of the stage for the next audition, but Ms. Cole strode to the front and center of the stage and gave a deep curtsey as if she were practicing for her curtain call on opening night. Lindsey couldn’t help but smile.

Ms. Cole then handed in her script and strode up the aisle. As she passed by Lindsey and the others, Lindsey said, “That was excellent, Ms. Cole.”

Ms. Cole inclined her head just a smidgen and kept walking. Lindsey sighed. After two years, Ms. Cole still just barely tolerated her.

“She actually slowed down,” Sully said. “For her that’s almost affection.”

Lindsey chuckled and turned to find him grinning at her. “Thanks. I’ll cling to that life raft.”

“Do,” he said.

He was standing closer than he’d been in months, and it was all Lindsey could do not to lean into him. She took a step back just in case the impulse overrode her common sense.

It wasn’t that she was still mad at Sully for breaking up with her; okay, maybe she was a little mad. It was more self-preservation after the realization that the man was the original big, strong, silent type, which was lovely in the sense that he didn’t talk her ears off, but it was annoying in that she had no idea what was going on inside of him because he didn’t tell her.

She could be as book smart as all get out, but she wasn’t a mind reader. And unless Sully started opening up and talking to her, any relationship between them was doomed because instead of telling her his feelings he just made decisions, like dumping her, which had blindsided her. She was not going to go through that again.

“Well, I’d better be going,” she said. “Heathcliff will wonder what’s become of me.”

“I’ll be happy to give you a ride,” Sully offered.

“Thanks, but I have my bike,” she said. She turned back to Mary and Nancy, and said, “So, I’m assuming we wait for the cast to be announced, because we can’t make the costumes until we have the proper measurements.”

“All except for me,” a voice said from behind her.

Lindsey turned to find Robbie Vine there.

“That’s right,” Lindsey said. “You’re Violet’s special guest brought in specifically to play Puck.”

He gave her a slight bow. Then he held out his arm and said, “Come on. I’ll walk you out and we can discuss your vision for my character’s wardrobe.”

“What does ‘the merry wanderer of the night’ wear?” Lindsey asked. She didn’t take his arm, so Robbie simply took her hand in his and put it through his elbow himself.

“The possibilities are endless,” he said as he led her from the room. “What do you think of deep-purple velvet?”

Lindsey glanced over her shoulder and waved to the group. She could feel Sully’s eyes burning on her face but she didn’t have the courage to meet his gaze.

“Velvet?” she asked. “Wouldn’t that be hot under the lights?”

“True,” he agreed. “I suppose I could be naked.”

He was pushing through the main doors to the theater’s patio when he said this, and he turned to give her a lascivious grin. Lindsey couldn’t help but laugh. For certain, Robbie Vine was the perfect Puck.

“You’re joking,” she said.

“Sadly, yes. So, tell me, fair librarian,” he said. “Why didn’t you audition?”

Lindsey dropped her hand from his arm and fished through her purse for the key to her bike lock. She took the lock off and put it and her bag into the basket on the back.

“I’m a watcher,” she said.

“But with that glorious head of blonde hair and that striking profile, you’d be amazing on the stage,” he said.

“Not if I can’t act,” she said. “Which I can’t.”

“Have you ever tried?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

“Give me a sad face,” he said. “A face that speaks of love lost and a heart yearning.”

“I can’t,” Lindsey said, and as if to prove it, she giggled.

Robbie grinned. “Yes, you can. Think of having your heart broken and let your face reflect your inner pain.”

Lindsey knew he wouldn’t stop badgering her until she tried, so she thought about having her heart broken not once but twice over the past few years and then she turned her face to Robbie.

He studied her with one eyebrow raised.

“I said to look sad, love, not like you’re going to bury an axe in some poor bugger’s back.”

Lindsey grinned and then tried one more time for sad. Robbie looked alarmed.

“Are you quite all right?” he asked. “You look as if you have severe indigestion or possibly appendicitis.”

“Oh, you, I told you I couldn’t do it.” Lindsey laughed and swatted his shoulder. He caught her hand in his and tugged her close.

“Well, if you are a watcher, I’m delighted that you’ll be watching me,” he said.

Robbie was standing just inches away from her, and she felt his green eyes on her, absorbing every detail as if she was the most fascinating person he’d ever met.

The doors to the theater opened and out stepped Ian, Mary and Sully. The three of them paused to take in the sight of Lindsey and Robbie. Lindsey felt a ridiculous flash of guilt, and she quickly stepped away from Robbie and pulled her bike out of the rack.

“Good night, Robbie.”

“Good night, fair Lindsey.” Then he raised his voice, and she knew his words were for the benefit of the others when he said, “Remember, ‘The course of true love never did run smooth’.”

Lindsey shook her head at him. As she climbed on her bike and pushed off the sidewalk, she said, “I think you’d better go rehearse your part, because that is Lysander’s line.”

Robbie looked surprised and then busted out a delighted laugh as she pedaled away. She glanced back quickly to see him grinning and Sully frowning. She heaved a sigh as she turned onto the main road, which led to her house. One thing that could not be argued—the bard sure knew what he was talking about when it came to the rough-and-tumble path of true love.

• • •

T
he next day, Lindsey noted that the town was abuzz with audition anxiety. Since Lindsey had moved to town two years before, she had attended many of the Briar Creek Community Theater productions. There was a high standard, no question, mostly because Violet La Rue was involved, usually in the starring role.

This season, however, it appeared that everyone from the clerk at the local bakery to the mailman to the pages who shelved books in the library had auditioned. Lindsey had no doubt that the motivating factor was the chance to be on stage with Robbie Vine.

“I bombed,” Heather moaned. She was lying on the old beat-up sofa in the staff lounge, consoling herself with a Snickers and a can of Mountain Dew.

“No, you were good,” Perry assured her. “I mean Dylan was the best, but he always is.”

“Argh.” Heather bit into her candy bar like it was Dylan’s head.

“Where is Dylan?” Lindsey asked. Perry, Heather and Dylan were her library pages, and they spent their afternoons shelving books and helping out in the library as needed.

“He was going to stop by the theater,” Perry said.

“The suck-up,” Heather grumbled.

Perry rolled his eyes at Lindsey, and she had to press her lips together to keep from smiling.

“He said he wouldn’t be more than a few minutes late,” Perry said.

Lindsey glanced at the clock. The pages didn’t start their shift until four, so they had ten more minutes to decompress from school.

“When you start, I believe Ms. Cole has several trucks for you to shelve,” Lindsey said. “And then I was hoping you’d help me put together a display of materials by and about Shakespeare. Perry, could you work up a flyer for me, since you’re so good at graphic design?”

“Don’t we have a mini bust of good old Shakespeare back in storage?” Heather asked. “I think I saw it when we were storing the summer reading materials.”

“If you can find it, that would be excellent,” Lindsey said. “Thank you, Heather.”

“Sure.” The girl sighed.

“And, Heather, for what it’s worth, I saw your audition last night and I thought you were terrific,” Lindsey said.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Thanks, Ms. Norris,” Heather said and she bounced up from the couch, looking infinitely cheered.

“How come she didn’t believe me when I said that?” Perry asked Lindsey.

“Because she’s a librarian,” Heather answered for Lindsey as she headed out the break room door. “She knows what she’s talking about.”

“Oh, and I don’t?” he asked, following behind her.

Lindsey watched them go in bemusement. Had she ever been that young or that mercurial in temperament? No. She was an old soul and had pretty much sailed on an even keel her whole life. Her brother Jack was the roller coaster of the family. He lived life on the edge and liked it that way, whereas Lindsey was happier to hear about his exploits but had no desire to live them.

She figured as soon as Violet posted the cast list on the theater doors, the town would calm down and things would return to normal. She found she was looking forward to it.

Lindsey left the break room and was headed into her office when she saw Ms. Cole talking with Milton Duffy. They were standing off in the DVD area, talking in low voices. Not that Lindsey was trying to hear what they were saying, but she took a detour through the new books area just to see if the displays were full.

Drat. They were, which meant that there really was no need for her to linger.

Ann Marie, one of their part-time employees, was behind the circulation desk, and Lindsey went over to say hello. Ann Marie was checking in a stack of books but she, too, kept glancing at Ms. Cole and Milton, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

When she saw Lindsey, she smiled. “In all of the years I’ve been working here, which is three, Ms. Cole has never—and I do mean never—left the circulation desk to go be social.”

“I know,” Lindsey said. “It’s alarming.”

“Phew, I thought it was just me,” Ann Marie said. “But it’s kind of freaking me out.”

Lindsey laughed. “Agreed. I had no idea how accustomed I’d become to the reliability of Ms. Cole. Then again, maybe she’s trying to badger a fine out of Milton.”

“He doesn’t have any fines,” Ann Marie said. When Lindsey looked at her, she shrugged and said, “I checked.”

“Weird,” Lindsey said.

“What’s weird?” a voice asked from behind her, and Lindsey turned around to see Beth dressed in glittery wings with a garland of flowers on her head.

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Lindsey said. “You’re supposed to be Mustardseed.”

“Peaseblossom, actually,” Beth said.

“Ah, my mistake,” Lindsey said.

“Did Violet post the parts yet?” Ann Marie asked.

“Not yet,” Beth said with a frown. “I am dying of anxiety.”

“Good thing faeries are immortal then,” Lindsey said.

“Miss Library, why are you dressed that way?” a young girl named Casey, who was a regular attendee of Beth’s family story time, asked Beth.

“I am trying out costumes in case I get picked to be in a play,” Beth said.

“Are you a princess?” Casey asked.

“No, I’m a faerie,” Beth said.

“A faerie princess?” Casey persisted.

“No, a faerie servant to the faerie queen,” Beth answered.

Casey frowned. “I’d rather be the queen. Do you have any books about queens?”