Wait Until Dark (21 page)

When she reached the door, Will Court said, "Goodnight."

"If I'd known Buck was gone I'd have come for you myself," declared Eileen Rivers the next morning, setting a platter of warm blueberry muffins in front of her daughter. "I certainly hope you're remembering to lock the library up tight."

Addie poked at her scrambled eggs, her mother's words barely registering as she daydreamed out the expansive picture window. Images of the man she'd met in the kitchen last night, and his disturbing effect on her, interfered with her wandering view of the farm's meadows and creek.

"You're really getting paranoid, Mom. Relax, for heaven's sake," she murmured, but suffered a fleeting pang of guilt at the memory of the keys she'd forgotten at the library.

Her reverie drifted across the broad creek and frost-covered meadows and found the distant red and gold peaks of the Allegheny Mountains shimmering in the early morning sun.

"I think the death of two good friends in the last year is enough to make anyone worry."

Addie sighed, and finally gave full attention to her mother.

"Laurel's drowning was an accident, and Janelle was in Marysville when she disappeared. Who knows? She may have gotten bored with teaching first grade and run away to Tahiti or something. None of it puts me in any danger. Besides, I have Coffee to protect me."

"You can make fun if you want, but they're still investigating Laurel's so-called accident. She never went swimming alone, and she had marks around her neck indicating she might have been strangled."

Addie's stomach turned. "Mom, please, must we talk about this? It's a beautiful morning, and I'd rather remember Laurel alive and happy."

Her mother sniffed. "Sorry, dear, but I really think Joe should call in some superior help for the investigation of Laurel's death. And you know perfectly well that Janelle didn't run off to Tahiti. Wishful thinking, Adelaide Rivers. They found signs of a struggle and traces of her blood in the apartment and her car. Don't you think it's more than coincidence that two members of a book group in this rural area have disappeared?"

Addie sighed again. "No, Mom, I don't think Laurel was an accident, and Janelle must have met the wrong person."

"The
Real Crime
magazine I read last night said those monsters usually form a pattern and don't break it. I don't think two members gone from the same book group within a year is a coincidence. And," she said, pausing for dramatic effect, "this monster evidently likes bookish women with dark-brown hair - like yours. I'm just happy Buck escorts you home at night."

"Yes, Mom, Buck is always there. I can always depend on good o'l
Buck." Addie tossed her hair in self-irritation. "And, by the way, just because I'm a writer and a librarian doesn't make me bookish. I've got to get going."

She finished her muffin, gulped the last of her coffee, and got to her feet.

"Where's our new guest?" she asked, with an attempt at casualness.

"It was late when he arrived so I told him he could come down for breakfast whenever he woke up."

"Mom, you can't run an efficient bed-and-breakfast if you let the guests wander down any time they please. I found him making himself at home in the kitchen last night."

Her mother grinned. "I thought I detected signs of a refrigerator raid. Isn't he nice, Addie? And so, well, not handsome in the classic sense, but there's something absolutely riveting about him. I think you young women would say he's ... sexy." She blushed, and self-consciously stuck her hands into the pockets of her frilly white apron. "Besides, a bed-and-breakfast should be more about graciousness than efficiency."

Addie smiled at her mother's reaction to their guest, and kissed her on the cheek.

"You're right, darling. I promise I won't bug you about how you run the place, if you'll promise not to worry about me and mysterious deaths and murderers. After all, we take in more strangers here at the inn than I see at the library in a blue moon. I should be worrying about
you."

Eileen Rivers sniffed indignantly, and shoved a lock of fading flaxen hair off her forehead. "We only get nice people here, Adelaide Rivers, and you know that."

"Who is Will Court, anyway?"

"Doctor
Will Court. He isn't much of a talker, but whoever called to make his reservation said he's a history professor at Yale."

Addie slipped on her jacket.

"Don't forget your pumpkin. Bobby Heed searched the pumpkin patch for an hour yesterday afternoon to find just the right one for your children to carve."

Addie picked up the small pumpkin from the kitchen counter and settled it comfortably in her arms.

"What in the world is Dr. Court doing in this out-of-the-way place?"

Her mother frowned. "I'm not sure, some kind of research, I think."

"Yeah, research on rudeness."

"Addie!"

She kissed her mother on the cheek. "Bye, Mom. Love you. See you tonight."

Addie walked briskly across the lawn to the long tree-bordered driveway, her desert boots shuffling through crisp fallen leaves. She shifted the pumpkin in her arms and considered driving her car to work, then rejected the idea immediately. The two-mile walk into town was a discipline she'd adhered to religiously since she'd come home to live three years ago.

At the end of the drive she skirted the gleaming white and gold Rivers Farm sign, and turned onto the tree-shaded dirt path that led to town. As she walked, she remembered the sounds she'd heard on the path last night and her near panic. How silly it all seemed in the light of this beautiful fall morning.

The whip of whirling wheels rushing through the leaves behind her warned her to step aside.

"Hey, Miss Rivers." Bradley and Amy Lee Simples, neighbors from the farm next to the Rivers place, swept by on their bikes. Late for school as usual.

"Hi, Brad, Amy. I've got that Harry Potter book you've been waiting for, Brad."

"Okay. Be in after school," he called back, and waved farewell as they drew ahead of her.

There was little traffic on the highway alongside the path, but Bradley and Amy Lee would be entering town soon and she wanted to call after them to be careful. She quelled her protective urge, but it made her wonder, as she often did, if she'd ever have children of her own to worry about.

She picked up her pace, anxious now to get the day started.

Witt Court stood at his guest room window and watched the slender figure cross the lawn, go through the trees, and onto the driveway. Earlier he had put a match to the wood laid in the fireplace and it had caught nicely, but the morning chill still wasn't off the room. Shivering, he pulled a navy-blue sweater hastily over his head, ran fingers through his dark hair, then continued his interested surveillance.

Addie's hair was a coppery brown. He couldn't take his eyes off the lively shining tresses. Of medium length and wavy, her hair glinted gold and red when it caught the sun's beams. It bounced freely around her ears and off her shoulders as she hurried away into the protection of the trees. He waited impatiently until she came into sight again at the end of the drive.

He liked the way she walked with confidence and purpose, even with the burden of the pumpkin. She turned onto the path next to the highway, and he could see her profile. She was too far away for him to see her face clearly, but he wished that he could. Two children rode past her. They waved and spoke, but soon all three were out of sight "Well, are you going to stare out the window at beautiful women all day, Professor Court?" he asked himself. "Not a good beginning for your hideaway time."

Turning his attention to the stunning green, gold, and russet autumn landscape that enveloped the farm, he smiled and breathed a sigh of satisfaction. He'd arrived late last night, but this was the scenery he'd hoped for in this part of the country.

Blue Springs was a tiny historical town on the West Virginia-Virginia border. Because of its out-of-the-way location and the stubborn determination of old families with large land holdings, Blue Springs had miraculously escaped the evils of development and tourism. He suspected the Rivers family was holding to their land by the skin of their teeth, thus the necessity for a bed-and-breakfast.

Planning and scouting out this retreat had taken a year, but he was pleased with the results of his efforts. Not sure how long this research project would take, he decided that for a change he wouldn't be in a hurry.

He'd told Mrs. Rivers he would be here for a week, but his room was spacious, pleasing to the eye, and lushly comfortable, and judging from the food he'd sampled last night, Mrs. Rivers was a superb cook. More importantly, the Blue Springs Public Library owned a collection of Appalachian and Allegheny tales and legends second to none.

And an intriguing librarian, he reminded himself.

No one knew where he was and he wasn't expected back for a month. This looked like the perfect place to hide for a while.

Addie reached the village and ahead of her stretched Elm Street and its row of historic eighteenth-century houses, some with deep wraparound porches, others with sturdy columns and long green shutters. Lulu Murphy waved to her from the front porch of the home she'd turned into an antiques shop.

Lulu stopped sweeping and called, "Hey, Addie. Lookin' forward to seein' you and Buck Friday night. I'm makin' your favorite roast pork with sausage stuffing."

"Great. Sounds like fun. See you." Roast pork was Buck's favorite, not hers. People had become so accustomed to the two of them together that they tended to link their likes and dislikes. Addie admired Lulu. Lulu meant well, and she had it all: an adoring husband, two beautiful children, and a business of her own.

She hurried, turning the corner onto the square. Library hours were nine to five weekdays, and nine to nine on Saturdays. It was almost nine o'clock.

A car drew to the curb next to her and stopped.

"Slow down, beautiful. That library can get along without you for five minutes."

"Oh, hi, Joe. It won't open until I get there. Any increase in the Blue Springs crime wave?"

It was an old joke between Addie and the chief of police. Joe Bolo had gone to high school with her, graduating tenth in their class of twenty. Buck had been class valedictorian, Addie the salutatorian, and they had gone on to Penn State. Joe had attended one year of community college, taken a course in criminology and town administration, then headed happily home to take charge of the Blue Springs police force of three.

He turned off the ignition of the police cruiser, and got out to relieve her of the pumpkin and carry it for her as they headed toward the library.

"Well, let's see," he said, considering her question. “Burt Manning is missing two shiny new hoes at the hardware store, Mavis thinks kids are stealing the best pumpkins from her display in front of the grocery store, and old Mrs. Tabor swears a peeping torn is staring through her bedroom window every night. Heaven knows what for."

Addie laughed. "Gee, Joe, things are really, going downhill in this burg. Do you think you can handle the intrigue and danger?"

"I don't know. May have to import more manpower." He winked at her, a wistful look in his eyes. "Don't suppose you'd have lunch with me today. It'll be some warmed up by noon, and we could take a sandwich to the park, or maybe we could go to the diner. You love Dixie's meatloaf special. I'm sure Buck wouldn't care."

Addie almost said yes, but she didn't want to give him any false encouragement. Joe hadn't lost the serious crush he'd had on her since high school. She loved him dearly as a buddy, but that was as far as it would ever go.

And why did everyone want to tell her what she liked to eat?
It was downright embarrassing.

"I don't really care whether Buck approves. I'm not married to him, you know," she said. "But I can't have lunch with you today, Joe. The nursery school is coming in for story hour."

"How about Friday, Ad?"

Why not?
She thought. She was irritated with people taking her and Buck for granted. Maybe she would shake things up a bit. And she hadn't been to the diner for a while.

"Sure, Joe. I'd love to."

A huge grin stretched his earnest face, and his round rosy cheeks bunched in delight. His sturdy shoulders, on a level with hers, straightened and she could have sworn he walked taller. Addie was glad she'd said yes. She wished it were that easy to make everyone happy.

"Looks like this fat pumpkin came direct from the patch at Rivers Farm. Where do you want it, beautiful?"

She indicated the bales of hay and the scarecrow arranged on the front lawn of the library. "Put it next to the scarecrow. We're going to carve it tomorrow."

They said good-bye, and Addie climbed the broad stone steps to the entrance of the tall imposing old house, which had been converted to a library forty years ago. A wealthy book lover had left her home to the town, along with a small trust fund to run the library for years to come.

As she opened the double doors, Addie vowed to remember to lock them this evening. Admiring, as always, the finely etched glass panels in the heavy walnut doors, she stepped into the vestibule. The quiet soothed her immediately. Coffee usually greeted her first thing, but he didn't show this morning.