By the Book (A Gracie Andersen Mystery 2) (14 page)

The whole gang was there for Saturday breakfast. Kelly, Laney, Marc, Tom, and Jim sat around Gracie’s dining room table enjoying a lavish country breakfast. Plates of bacon, sausage, pancakes, and a platter of scrambled eggs loaded down the table. Sunshine streamed through the kitchen windows, and temperatures were finally above 20 degrees.

“Pass the hot sauce, Tom. If you’re done with it.” Jim shoveled a large mound of scrambled eggs onto his plate.

“Sure thing. How about the syrup, Marc? Hey, Gracie, do you have more pancakes ready?” Tom was stuffing his face like he hadn’t eaten for a week.

“Almost. They’ll be ready in just a minute.” Gracie loved having a full table and lots of hungry people to feed. There was happy chatter and lots of laughter. It brought back good memories of Michael and the farm. She often cooked lunch for their hired hands. When it was haying season, she cooked her brains out to keep the crews well-fueled. The only person missing at her table today was Michael. She tried not to think about it. She flipped the last of the buckwheat pancakes and slid them onto a waiting plate. It looked like everyone was slowing down. Laney was actually groaning. She was the surprise guest of the morning. Jim had merely smiled when they’d walked through the door together. Gracie picked her jaw up off the floor and tried to act disinterested, but it was absolutely killing her.

“Gracie, stop. No more, please. You’ll have to roll me out the door.” Laney pushed back from the table, looking absolutely gorgeous in her baby blue cashmere sweater. Her long blond hair was swept up into a casual French twist. The effect was stunning, and Jim looked definitely dazzled in between mouthfuls of eggs and pancakes.

“You can stop anytime. It’s up to you,” Gracie bantered.

“That’s the problem—no will power,” she complained.

“Sit down and eat, little sister,” Tom ordered, pulling at her sweater sleeve.

“I’m getting to it.” Gracie plopped down on the empty chair next to Marc. She pulled her hair back with her hand and put a napkin on her lap.

“It’s about time you got here,” he said and set a plate of pancakes in front of her.

“Thanks.” Gracie evaded his eyes and slid two pancakes to her plate. Memories and an old recurring dream about Michael last night had put a damper on seeing Marc today. She ignored Marc’s questioning look and shoved a forkful of pancake in her mouth to avoid talking.

The conversation picked up again, and the topic easily turned to the library. Marc smiled, and Gracie gave him a sideways look, hoping that he’d break down and give them something.

“I read that the medical examiner placed the time of death around midnight,” Tom said.

“That’s right,” Marc agreed, nodding his head. “The stab wound killed her, but she had some blunt force trauma to the back of her head.”

“Was she hit with something, or was it from the fall?” Gracie asked.

“The M.E. says she was probably knocked out, then stabbed.”

“Oh ...” Laney gasped, wiping her chin with a napkin. “Nasty.”

“So you guys are still checking out Roger then?” Jim asked, pushing back from the table.

“He’s still answering some questions. We’re talking to quite a few people.”

“What about Jack Greene?” Gracie finally dared to ask.

“He’s been questioned a few times. We’re trying to find out where everybody was, and if they can prove it.”

“Ah … the alibis,” Laney chuckled. “Do they all add up?”

“Well, let’s just say we have a few questions,” Marc smiled, finally putting his fork down on the plate.

“What about Alice’s car?” Gracie blurted out.

“What about it?” Marc questioned.

“It wasn’t in the parking lot that morning. It just occurred to me last night. I can’t imagine her walking three blocks to the library.”

“That’s a good point. Her car is in the garage at her house.”

“Really?” She couldn’t believe that Alice strolled to the library and got herself stabbed. But then there were other possibilities.

“The funeral’s set for Monday,” Tom said, picking up a crispy piece of bacon.

“Did Alice have any family?” Jim asked. “She hasn’t lived in Deer Creek all that long as far as I know.”

“Her family’s coming in from the Schenectady area. That’s where she’s from originally,” Marc answered. “Hey, if we’re going to get some skiing in, we’d better hustle out there before we have a spring thaw.”

“That’s right,” Jim said, as he wadded up his paper napkin and tossed it on his plate. While her guests started clearing the table, Gracie finished the last of the pancakes and washed them down with lukewarm coffee.

Skis and poles were stuck in the snow banks along the sidewalk. The weather was perfect. The snow glittered in rare winter sunshine. The dogs were anxious to join the fun, dancing and panting by the kitchen door for the action to begin. The chatter of happy voices and excited barks from the canine pack traveled through the fields behind the kennel as the group started out for the woods.

Gracie felt every complaining muscle in her body when she stopped to drop off the paychecks to Sybil and Patti. She had to admit she was totally out of shape. The winter inactivity had taken its toll, and skiing brought it immediately to her attention. A hot bath was on the to-do list for tonight. She stomped snow from her boots on the thick black mat before proceeding to the desk. Patti was pleased to see the envelopes.

“Thanks, Gracie. I’ll make sure Sybil gets hers and Jack’s.”

“Good. Thanks. I’ll drop Terry’s off to her. She hasn’t come to work yet, has she?”

“No. She called this morning and sounds pretty sick. But we can handle things here with no problem.” Patti smiled and tucked her chin-length dark brown hair behind an ear, exposing a small gold hoop earring.

“I’m sure you can. You and Sybil have run things for years anyway. I was surprised that Sybil didn’t get the librarian position though.” Gracie leaned against the counter, rubbing the old wood with her index finger.

“You’re not the only one,” Patti blurted out. “Sybil should have gotten the job before. Just because Alice went to the same school as this Terry did doesn’t make her qualified.”

“No,” Gracie replied slowly. “Did Alice push for Terry?”

“I don’t know, but Jack and Sybil think so. Jack had it out with Alice. She wasn’t very nice to either of them. Of course, it might have been Will that really wanted her. He was big on having someone with a degree. Sybil knows everything inside and out.” She paused and bit her lip. “Well, I do too, but Sybil’s … well, she deserves the job.”

By the look on Patti’s face, Gracie wasn’t quite sure the statement was heartfelt. Knowing something about difficult cousin relations, she wondered if she and Patti had something in common after all. The grandfather clock in the reading area chimed softly. Gracie checked the time. It was almost closing. Jack pushed through the front door and made an irritated entrance.

“Aren’t you closing up yet? I want to get this place done.”

Patti huffed back. “Good grief! You can start upstairs since the boss is out sick.”

He scowled and unzipped his jacket. “All right. Are the checks here?” He turned his gaze to Gracie, who felt like she was being accused of something.

“I gave them to Patti,” she swallowed. “Heard you were working up at Woodson’s.”

“Yeah. I’ve been up there about a month. Why?” The man’s eyes narrowed as he took the pay envelope from Patti.

“A friend said she thought she’d seen you up there, that’s all.”

“A man’s gotta make a living. Not easy in this town anymore,” he snapped, stuffing the check in the pocket of a blue plaid flannel shirt. “Maybe I’ll end up getting paychecks from a few more people.”

“Right. Well, I hope it’s working out up there.”

“It’s OK. That is, unless Roger gets arrested for murder. The old man will have to take back the farm if he is. He might have to anyway. Roger’s running it into the ground.”

Patti scurried to the children’s reading area and hustled two kids back to the desk with books to check out. She quickly scanned the barcodes, and the two girls tucked the books in their arms, giggling.

“You’d better button your coats, girls,” Patti admonished as they pushed through the front door. She shrugged as they ignored the instructions.

“Kids,” she sighed. “They’ll freeze, but oh well. I’ve gotta get going. Did you need anything, Gracie?”

“No, I’d better go too.”

Jack grunted what she guessed was “good bye” and went to the custodial closet to pull out the vacuum.

“Oh, Jack. I almost forgot. Can you bring those two boxes from the basement to my car? Sybil wanted me to drop them off to her.” Her face reddened. “She’s working on a project at home,” she explained to Gracie.

“Which ones?” Jack called back to her from the closet.

“I’d better show you.” Patti was pulling on her coat. She laid a green manila folder with no label on the counter before following Jack to the rear of the building.

Gracie watched the pair disappear around the corner, and then she picked up the folder.

Will Dover’s house was just outside the village, situated in the woods on a knoll. In the summer, it was impossible to see the house from the road, but in the winter, it was visible through the skeletal arms of maples and oaks. Gracie drove slowly up the long winding driveway. As a kid, she remembered playing on the sweeping lawns and climbing the huge willow that stood to the rear of the large colonial house. The Dovers, who had both taught high school English, hosted a
Midsummer Night’s Dream
party every August to take up the slack after the 4
th
of July. The Clarks were always invited because her father taught with them at Letchworth Central. The house was painted a deep red with black trim and shutters now. She wasn’t sure the change from white with forest green trim was a good one. She pushed the gearshift into “park” and sat for a moment, mentally composing her questions. The spreadsheet in the folder was definitely worth talking about. A breeze swayed the old-fashioned coach lantern that was suspended by a black chain on the front porch. It illuminated the broad brick steps up to the heavy front door with a stained glass sidelight. She took a deep breath and got out of the SUV.

Iris Dover welcomed her cheerfully into the large foyer. The hardwood floors gleamed and the crown molding made Gracie envious for a little more character in her own house. The house smelled of fresh bread, and her stomach growled.

“It’s good to see you, Gracie. This whole situation has Will so upset. He’s just not been himself.”

“It’s pretty unbelievable. It’s not every day you have a murder at the library.”

“The police have been here three times, and I don’t know if Will can take much more. He has a pacemaker, you know.”

“I didn’t know. Why would the police be here so much?”

“He won’t say. He doesn’t want to worry me, he said, but he had Alice handling some of his retirement monies. But I don’t know why they would pester him about that.” The short woman with wispy ash blond hair offered Gracie a seat in a comfortable wingback chair in Will’s study. She sank gratefully into the soft cushions.

“Would you like a cup of tea while you wait? Will should be home any minute. I have some fresh bread and honey to go with it if you’d like.”

“Perfect, Mrs. Dover. I’ll take you up on that offer.” For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to use Iris Dover’s first name. There was something a little disconcerting about calling a former teacher by her first name. She hadn’t had Will as a teacher, so that wasn’t a problem. She racked her brain trying to remember how she’d missed being in his class. Gracie’s stomach growled loudly again. She placed her hand against it and smiled, a little embarrassed.

“Guess I forgot to eat dinner tonight.”

“I’ll fix you up in no time. You kids just don’t take care of yourselves. Make yourself at home, and I’ll be right back.”

Gracie heard her quick footsteps down the hallway toward the kitchen. Will’s study was small, but comfortable. His mahogany rolltop desk was a beauty, and she ran her fingers over the polished wood. The cubbies were crammed with papers. She resisted an overpowering urge to see if there were any library files stashed in the clutter. The rich wood had been oiled recently and still smelled a little of orange. Built-in hickory bookcases lined the room and were full to overflowing. All the classics were there. She pulled out a copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
and opened it to the flyleaf. It was autographed by Harper Lee. She carefully slid it back onto the shelf, guessing that it had cost Will a pretty penny.

She stood staring out of the tall window hung with heavy navy blue nubby silk draperies behind the desk. A mercury vapor light by the garage was flickering, trying to light up the rear driveway and parking area. She saw a small herd of beef cattle huddled together in the barnyard beyond the parking area. The small red barn was relatively new. The original had been torn down a few years ago. Will’s yellow VW bug appeared in the driveway, and Gracie abruptly stepped away from the window. She heard him enter through the kitchen and greet his wife. Quick footsteps clicked down the hallway, and Gracie made it back to her chair, before he came through the doorway.