Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 01 - Ghostly Paws (12 page)

That didn’t mean I was going to drop Ophelia off the suspect list, though. I was still going to tell Augusta about that blue cape just as soon as I could. In the meantime, I’d just have to broaden my investigation to include some of the other clues … even if it meant investigating an old friend.

Chapter Seventeen

More clouds had rolled in while I was in the bookstore and the somber atmosphere in the library echoed the weather outside. Lavinia’s assistant, Myrtle, who, I supposed, was the new head librarian, sat mournful and lonely behind the big rounded desk.

I found myself thinking that if Myrtle
did
get the head librarian position, then she had benefitted from Lavinia’s death. Standing in the doorway, I studied the short, bespectacled octogenarian. She must have weighed all of eighty pounds and I doubted she had enough strength to push Lavinia, never mind smash her on the head with the embosser. She was too short. And anyway, who would kill someone over a librarian job?

I walked into the library, nodding at Myrtle as I passed by. I’d changed into my wrinkle-free black dress and it swirled just above my knees while my heels made clickity-clack noises on the marble floor as I walked toward the back. I noticed the flag was at half-mast and Pierce’s bust was draped with a black band. Apparently, they were taking Lavinia’s death hard here.

I turned the corner to the back steps and a chill ran up my spine as I remembered finding Lavinia crumpled at the bottom of them. I hesitated a second, picturing the scene.

“Go on down,” a voice whispered, startling me and almost sent me falling down the stairs. It was Lavinia swirling beside me. Why hadn’t I just sent her over to look for the bronzes and saved myself a trip? She nodded pointedly at the stairs and I started down.

Stepping gingerly down the stone stairs, I turned right at the landing and walked into the main library area, my footsteps growing silent as the hard stone floor changed to carpeting.

The bottom floor of the library was like a maze. Tightly packed rows of ten-foot high bookshelves were laid out with barely three feet of aisle space between them.
 
There were various sections and rooms off the main room that one could wander into. It seemed always to be void of other humans and entombed in silence—the massive amount of books and carpeted flooring absorbed most of the noise. I’d gotten lost down there more than once.

“Where are they?” I whispered to Lavinia. My question was met with silence.

I looked beside me, then turned to look behind me, scanning for any sign of a ghost. Nothing … not a faint swirl of mist … not even a drop of condensation. Figures she’d disappear when I needed her most.

I decided to do the search methodically, row by row. The most likely place to display the bronzes was at the end of the rows or in one of the many alcoves, so moving along the perimeter would be my best choice.

I turned left, then walked to the end of the row where I was met with another row of books.

“Okay, maybe the bronzes are at the other end,” I said softly, just in case Lavinia was listening and might offer her help.

I started down the row, then noticed a little alcove off to the left. “Is it here?” I whispered.

I took the sharp corner and almost jumped out of my shiny black pumps. Standing in front of me was Sheriff Eddie Striker … and he didn’t look happy.

***

“Were you talking to someone?” Striker’s gray eyes drilled into mine, then shifted to look behind me.

“Me? No.” He was standing in front of a two-foot square alcove indented in the wall. I tried to peer around his wide chest to see what was in the alcove and caught sight of a mahogany pedestal … was a bronze on top of it?

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“What are
you
?” My hands fisted on my hips and my brows dipped in an angry V. I felt like we’d been through this routine before. At least he wasn’t pointing a gun at me this time.

His lips curled in that annoying half-smile and butterflies flittered in my stomach. I suddenly felt glad I’d made an attempt to tame my hair, and then immediately admonished myself for feeling that way. What did I care about looking good?

“Don’t tell me you were coming here to borrow a book dressed like that.” His gaze wandered from my face, down my body to my shoes and back up, lingering in some places longer than others.

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling self-conscious about my clingy dress and scarred leg.
 
At least the leg wasn’t one of the parts where his gaze had lingered. It started to ache as if it knew I was thinking about it and I shifted my weight onto my right leg.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
 

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “But I don’t think you got all dressed up to borrow a book. You’re up to something and my detective skills tell me you’re here for the same reason I am.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Striker stepped aside to reveal what was on top of the pedestal … a bronze statue of a cowboy on a bucking bronco in amazing detail. It was a deep chocolate color and I knew if I touched it, it would feel silky, but hard and cold. Which was exactly the same way Striker was looking at me right now.

“There are four of them,” I blurted out.

“I know. They’re all here.”
 

“Are they really that valuable?” I asked.

“I just had an expert here and he said only one is original, but even the recasts are worth thousands.” Striker glanced back at the bronze. “The library is moving them out today and putting them somewhere more secure.”
 

“How did you find out about them?”
 

 
“Probably the same way you did. I’m investigating the case and got a lead. But see, there’s a difference between me investigating and you investigating.” He paused and fixed me with a serious look. “I’m a cop and you’re not. So
you
shouldn’t be following up on leads.”

“I’m just curious by nature,” I said weakly. “So you think someone was trying to steal the bronzes and Lavinia stumbled onto them?”

Striker shrugged. “That’s one possible motive. But seeing as the bronzes are still here, it’s not likely.”

I frowned at the statue. “Why not?”

“Don’t you think the thief would have grabbed at least one of them after going to all the trouble of clobbering Lavinia?”

“But what if he got scared off? Maybe he didn’t have time.” Maybe I had scared him off when I came into the library. An icy chill ran up my spine when I realized I might have suffered the same fate as Lavinia.

“Maybe.” Striker sniffed the air. “Do you smell peppermint?”

I thought of the
Iced Fire
I’d doused my leg in at the bookstore and felt my cheeks grow warm. I shook my head and he frowned at the air.
 

“So, what other motives are you looking at?” I asked innocently.

Striker disarmed me with a full smile this time. It was the first time I’d seen him smile and I realized it was quite charming.
 

“Oh, no … you can’t get information out of me
that
easily.” He shook his head at me. “Besides I don’t want you running around investigating the other motives.”

“I don’t need
you
to give me leads.” I tilted my chin up. “I have some of my own.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that. I hope I don’t have to arrest you to keep you out of trouble.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, not knowing if he was joking or serious. He couldn’t actually arrest me, could he?

“I don’t think Augusta would keep me in jail.” The truth was I
wasn’t
sure that she wouldn’t keep me in jail—she’d warned me many times about investigating.

Striker laughed, and I was annoyed to discover his laugh was actually pleasant. “I think your sister would agree. She doesn’t want you getting caught up in anything that might get you hurt. It’s funny—your last name suits you to a tee.”

“How’s that?”

“You take a lot of chances … unfortunately those chances could end up getting you hurt.”

I almost melted a little at the concern in Striker’s eyes, but I really hated it when people tried to tell me what to do and I was more than a little annoyed that it was probably true that my own sister would let me sit in jail.

“Well, maybe if you and Augusta could find the real killer, I wouldn’t feel the need to take those chances,” I said haughtily then swung around and started to walk away.

“Hey, Chance,” he called after me, and I half-turned looking over my shoulder at him.

“What?”

“You look nice.”
 

I spun back away from him, my heart fluttering at the compliment. Okay, maybe he was being sarcastic, but he’d actually seemed sincere.
 

It wasn’t like me to get all flustered when someone complimented me, and that made me mad. Should I say something? I couldn’t think of a snappy comeback, so I focused on keeping my eyes straight ahead while I walked away.
 

Chapter Eighteen

Outside the library, the weather had turned downright gloomy. Dark clouds hung overhead and the air had turned chilly. The street was dry, but it smelled like rain.

I had a few minutes to kill before Lavinia’s service, so I decided to pop in and visit Pepper at
The Tea Room
.

The smell of herbal tea and cookies hit me as soon as I opened the door to Pepper’s shop. The color scheme of light greens, pink and turquoise brightened the room, making me forget about the dismal weather outside. The scroll designs of the white cafe tables and chairs added whimsy to the old-fashioned setting. Petite chandeliers glittered from the ceiling, dazzling the room with soft light. The tables boasted crisp white tablecloths and napkins made from vintage fabric.
 

Pepper stood behind the counter at the far end of the shop. Behind her, a wide, tall shelf was stacked with various jars and bags, adorned with ribbons and filled with herbal tea.
 

Pepper greeted me with a smile and I started toward her, doing a double take when the person she’d been waiting on turned around.

Ophelia Withington.

I hesitated. Did I really want to talk to Ophelia? Pepper and Ophelia both stared at me expectantly and I realized I didn’t have much choice. I slowed my pace, not so eager to get to the counter anymore.

“Hi, Willa,” Pepper greeted me cheerfully.

Ophelia smiled at me. “Willa, so nice to see you again.”

I raised a brow at her. It was?
 

The two other ladies turned their attention back to the purchase Ophelia was making. My gut twinged as I noticed they were laughing it up like old friends. Pepper put the purchase, which looked like a bunch of dried up leaves, twigs and sticks, into a crisp white paper bag stamped with the gold logo of
The Tea Room
and handed it across the counter to Ophelia, who grabbed the two sturdy twine handles and turned to leave.
 

“You girls take care, now.” Ophelia waved at us graciously as she sashayed out of the shop.

“What’s up with her?” I frowned at Pepper.

“She wanted to buy some of the tea we brought to her the other day.”

“She did?” I turned and looked at the door through which Ophelia had disappeared.

“Yes, did you notice how pleasant she was? She’s such a dear, really.” Pepper leaned across the counter and whispered. “I think my tea really helped her.”

“Maybe.” I was still suspicious of Ophelia, and to tell the truth, not too confident in Pepper’s teas either. Pepper was beaming like a lighthouse, though, and I didn’t want to crush her, so I plastered a smile on my face and tried to act enthusiastic. “That’s great.”

Pepper turned around and plucked various herbs out of jars she had sitting open on the counter behind her. She took a pinch of this and a twig of that, placing them all into a silver ball infuser.
 

“Sorry I can’t go to Lavinia’s service with you. Camilla can’t come in today and I have no one to watch the shop,” she said in between pinching and plucking.

“Oh, that’s okay; I need to talk to Augusta anyway about you-know-who.” I jerked my head toward the door Ophelia had just exited. “So I couldn’t hang around with you anyway.”

Pepper poured water into a teacup and then dunked the infuser in. “Oh, you still don’t think Ophelia did it, do you?”

“Well, the evidence does point to her …”

Pepper’s lips were pressed in a thin line as she bobbed the infuser up and down, turning the water in the teacup from clear to a rich mahogany. “What about the other clues?”

I tapped my finger on the counter as I thought about the other clues. The bronzes hadn’t been stolen, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t been trying to steal them that morning. Ophelia mentioned she’d seen a big black car, but she could be trying to cast suspicion away from her. The blue fabric on the embosser might help provide physical evidence, but I knew from my crime reporting days I’d need something else to make that stick.

“I’m trying to figure out the best way to follow up on those,” I said.

Pepper slid the tea across the counter to me and I picked it up, sipping it absently, my mind on the clues. Maybe Lavinia was right and I
had
been too focused on Ophelia. The truth was, I couldn’t come up with a motive for her to be in the library or to want Lavinia dead … unless it had something to do with the lies they had both told about the church.
 

My mind went back to my conversation with Emma at the church—she’d seemed secretive, too … and what had she been holding behind her back? I made a mental note to investigate the church further.

“Don’t you have to get going?” Pepper nodded at the green 1930s kitchen clock on the wall and I realized Lavinia’s service was going to start in ten minutes.

“Yeah, I guess I’d better.”
 

“I bet you’ll run into Eddie Striker,” Pepper teased in a singsong voice.
 

My stomach did a flip-flop and the teacup clattered in the saucer as I put it down. I felt my cheeks burn. What was up with that? Had it been so long since I’d had a date that even the mention of a cute guy made me act like a teenager?