Tempest in the Tea Leaves (26 page)

“Thanks, Dr. Wilcox.” Mitch stood up and shook his hand. “I’m glad she’s safe. The last thing Divinity needs is for someone else to die.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Dr. Wilcox responded.

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said and followed Mitch out to the car. “So where to, Detective?”

“The library. I’m in the mood to do some reading.” He looked at me as he started the car. “You in?”

“Um, okay, sure.” I fastened my seat belt. “What kind of reading?”

“Personnel files.”

“But I thought we pretty much ruled Carolyn Hanes out,” I said.

“Carolyn’s not the one I’m interested in. I never checked out Maude. Something seems off about her retirement, and then there’s the fact that we found her by the librarian’s window.” He rubbed his jaw while turning down the road for the library. “I want to know why.”

“Hasn’t she been through enough?” I felt really bad for Mrs. Sanders. She was so confused, and she seemed to be getting worse every day. With her daughters gone and her husband working a lot of overtime, she was virtually alone.

“Tink, I’m not saying she’s guilty.” Mitch’s voice was low and gentle. “I’m just saying she might need more help than we realize.”

“Fine, I’m in.” I was on a mission now. I pointed my finger in the detective’s face. “But only to prove there’s no way that sweet little old lady could be a murderer.”

“Fair enough.”

A few minutes later, Mitch pulled into the parking lot of the library and cut the engine. I followed the detective inside, and we headed straight to the circulation desk where the new manager, Carolyn Hanes, was talking to one of her employees.

“Good afternoon, Miss Hanes,” Detective Stone said. “You mind if we have a word with you?”

She looked warily at me, but she nodded, excused herself to her employee, and then to us said, “Follow me.” She led the way in the back to her office and closed the door behind us.

I scanned the room but didn’t see any signs left over from Lucinda or Holly having been there. Carolyn had definitely put her stamp on the room. “I noticed the teddy bear I left is gone,” I said. “What happened?”

Carolyn shrugged. “Ms. Smith said it was a fire hazard. I guess it fell off the shelf and landed on her desk next to a candle and then burst into flames.”

“No kidding? Imagine that,” I said.

“I know. It could have burned down the whole library. That’s why I issued a new policy.” She locked eyes with me, and I wondered if she’d somehow found out the bear held a nanny cam. “No gifts that aren’t of monetary value are to be accepted.”

I’ll bet you did
, I thought, but said, “Hmmm. That’s a shame.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Carolyn turned to the detective. “How can I help you?”

“I need to see the personnel records from when Amanda Robbins was manager here,” the detective answered.

“But you already looked through them.”

“Not all of them,” he explained.

She looked confused and a little troubled, but she complied. What choice did she have if she didn’t want to look guilty and uncooperative? “Certainly. You can use my office if you’d like.”

“Thank you. That would be wonderful,” I said all sugary sweet.

A few minutes later Detective Stone and I sat at Carolyn Hanes’s desk with a large box between us. He took half of the files, while I took the other half. We decided to pore over every one once more in case he had missed something the first time around.

Finally he came to Maude Sampson’s file. “This can’t be right.”

“What?”

“It says here that Maude didn’t retire.” He looked up and met my eyes. “She was fired.”

“You’re kidding.” I leaned forward and scanned her file. “Why would her husband lie about it?” I wondered aloud.

“Like he said, he’s always protected her. He probably didn’t want the scandal or embarrassment to taint her name.” Mitch read on. “You’re not going to believe this one. Carolyn Hanes was the one who got her fired. Her report on Maude says she was incompetent, forgetting things, and messing up the catalog system.”

“You know,” I said as something occurred to me. “Maude worked there much longer than Carolyn. If Maude hadn’t gotten fired, she would have been in line for the management position. They might not have been able to discriminate against her because of her age, but the fact that she was incompetent was a whole different matter. I think Carolyn was desperate for a higher-paying job because of her shopping addiction. While she might not have murdered her best friend, I doubt she was above getting Maude fired.”

My cell phone buzzed. “Hang on, Detective, I’ve got to take this.” I answered the call.

“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” I listened in shock. “Are you sure?” He filled me in on all the details. “Wow, okay, I’ll tell him.” I hung up and stared at Mitch with my mouth hanging open.

“What the hell is it?” Mitch sat forward.

“Dad finally got the doctor to talk.” As much as it pained me to say this, I knew I had no choice. “Maude Sampson was on digoxin for an irregular heartbeat.” I blew out a breath. “I guess that means she could have committed murder, especially if she was angry at Amanda for firing her. She loved working at the library. It was her life, especially after her girls left.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Tink. What else did your father say?”

I thought for a minute and then brightened a little. “He did say the pharmacy revealed Amanda Robbins used to pick up Maude’s prescription for her because Bernard worked overtime at the mill. Amanda would bring it to the library and give it to Maude at work before she was fired.”

“Carolyn would have had access to it,” Mitch pointed out. “She still could have been playing both sides and given it to Pendleton to use on Amanda when the bookstore deal didn’t go through. And then jumped ship with the FBI when things started to look bad for Alex and Gladys. And hell, for that matter, I think Gladys Montgomery would do just about anything to have one of her treasures declared a national landmark.”

“Do any of them have an alibi?” I asked.

“They all claimed to be each other’s alibi, hashing out the details of the deal and what the repercussions would be if it went through,” he answered. “But no one saw them.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He grinned. “We’re back in the game. I’ll see if we can get Pendleton to talk.”

“And I’ll talk to Maude’s husband, Bernard. Maybe he can clarify if one of his wife’s bottles was ever missing. He might also be able to explain more about his wife’s condition. Help give her an alibi.”

“Sounds like a plan, Tink. Maybe you’ll make it through this investigation after all.”

“Gee thanks, ye of little faith.” I smirked.

“Hey, everyone’s a suspect in my eyes until a case is closed.” Mitch’s smile dimmed, and the detective in him took over full force. “Including you.”

I pulled my bug up to the large mill on the outskirts of Divinity and parked next to old man Sampson’s pickup truck. It was nearly lunchtime, so I figured it was as good a time as any to have a word with him. I chose not to talk to him at home because I didn’t want to risk Maude being around to overhear our conversation.

A loud whistle blew, and a minute later the doors opened and workers filed out for their lunch break. Some would remain on-site to eat, while others needed a break from the daily grind. I’d taken my chances that Bernard was one of the latter.

Turned out I was right.

Bernard was one of the last to exit, his shoulders slightly drooping, and his gait a bit heavy. He approached his truck and then stopped short when he saw me. I hopped out of my car and walked over to him.

“Hi, Mr. Sampson. Remember me? Sunny.” I held out my hand.

He shook it warily. “I remember you. What do you want?”

“Wow, you get right to the point, don’t you?” I giggled, but his mouth flattened to a thin line. I stifled my awkwardness. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude on your lunch hour, but I was wondering if I could have a word with you?”

“About what?”

“I was worried about Maude and wanted to see how she’s doing.”

“She’s fine.” He started to walk around me.

“There’s more.” I stepped in front of him, pulling my coat closer together. The temperature was below freezing today.

“You know where I live, why not come to the house?”

“Because I don’t want your wife to overhear us.”

He hesitated for so long, I wondered if he’d had a stroke. Finally, he huffed, “Fine, but I eat in my truck.”

“In your truck? But it’s so cold out.”

“I like the cold. Besides, it’s the one place that’s all mine where I can relax and feel at peace.” He climbed into the driver’s side without another word.

I could relate. My sanctuary gave me the exact same feeling. I could only hope I’d get to start up my business again soon. Share a piece of me with the world. I slipped inside the passenger’s side of Bernard’s truck, but somehow felt he didn’t quite want to share a piece of himself with me.

“I truly am sorry for invading your space, Mr. Sampson, but I really am worried about your wife.”

His old-fashioned metal lunch box sat open on the worn cloth seat between us, his sandwich already half eaten. He slowly lowered the rest of his sandwich to his lap and looked at me. “I don’t mean to be so gruff, Ms. Meadows, but it’s been a long couple of weeks. What do you want to know?”

“For starters, how is Maude?” I asked, full of sincerity. I truly cared about what happened to her.

He jerked his gray head to the side. “As good as can be expected.”

“Does she remember anything from over the last couple of days?”

“She’s fine now, but she doesn’t remember anything from when she wandered off.” He looked pained and frustrated. “She has her good days and her bad, but then again, so do all of us.”

“I hear that,” I said softly, and then I asked the question that I dreaded but needed to be asked. “Your wife didn’t retire from the library. She was fired, wasn’t she?”

His eyes whipped up to mine, looking startled and a little afraid, but then he stared off into the distance. “She had just started to forget things at that time, but it wasn’t that bad. We both thought it was part of getting old. We’d worked so hard so we could enjoy our golden years, but then it looked like we wouldn’t have any golden years at all. Maude kept saying something was wrong, but I kept insisting she was fine. That maybe if she read more or did crossword puzzles or something, she would get better.”

“But she didn’t get better, did she?”

“Nope. Things got worse, but I was in denial. When she got fired for being incompetent, I couldn’t bear for anyone to think less of her, so I said she retired. Ms. Robbins felt horrible about having to let her go, so she agreed to tell everyone publicly that Maude retired.”

“But officially she had to put why she was fired in the records, didn’t she?”

He nodded, looking sad.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I really do want to help your wife, but where was she the night of Amanda Robbins’s murder?”

“Truth is, this is not the first time Maude has wandered off and not remembered where she was. I’ve covered for her in the past, but this time she was gone too long. I was afraid something really bad had happened to her, so I had to call the police.” He looked at me with pleading eyes. “I swear my Maude would never hurt a fly. You have to believe that.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Sampson,” I reminded him softly. “Where was your wife on the night of the murder?”

He sounded worn-out and exhausted. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What do you mean?”

“I came home from work at supper time, but she was gone. I drove around looking for her for hours, and then I went home. She showed up at ten P.M. with no memory of where she’d been.”

I touched his arm, and he flinched. “Thank you,” I said. “I know that was hard, but I promise you, I believe you about Maude not being capable of hurting anyone. I have to question her, but I will do everything I can to clear her name. We
will
find the real killer, I promise you.”

He looked down at his lap and nodded. The whistle on the plant blew, signaling the end of the lunch break. “Well, I gotta get back to work.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sampson. I’ll be in touch.” I climbed out of his truck and looked back, but he just sat there, staring at the steering wheel, looking dejected. I vowed right then and there to find a way to help him get his wife back.

 

 

Later that afternoon, I went to the police station. I passed Captain Walker in the hall.

“Ms. Meadows. How’s the case coming along?”

“We’re getting there,” I answered.

“Good. Glad to hear it. Mitch is in his office, down the hall and on the right.”

“Thanks.”