Sew Deadly (21 page)

She was losing it. Absolutely losing it. How could someone who’d been praised for her organizational skills by every employer she’d ever had suddenly lose everything she needed? How could someone who’d had relatively good luck in her entire life suddenly have an overpowering urge to hang garlic from her neck?

“I don’t get it, Nina, I’ve been staring at these binders every day for the past week. And now, suddenly, they’re gone. Poof!” Tori pulled everything off her desk for the umpteenth time in the past hour searching for the presentation she’d spent hours putting together for the library board. “Are you sure you didn’t put them somewhere when you were cleaning up in here?”

“
You
cleaned in here, Miss Sinclair. I tidied the library and set up the chairs for the meeting.” Her assistant wrung her hands, her voice a poor disguise for the apprehension she felt in having to correct her boss.

“I’m sorry, Nina. It’s not your fault. I can’t seem to keep track of anything.” She dropped into her office chair and buried her face in her hands. “What am I going to do? I’m going to look like an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.”

“How’s it going in here, ladies?”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Milo’s voice, the overwhelming urge to beg him for a power hug more than a little surprising. “Um, I think
rotten
would sum up our answer pretty well . . . what do you say, Nina?”

Milo’s eyebrows furrowed as Nina shrugged her agreement. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” Tori swiveled her chair and stood looking out the plate glass window into the gathering dusk. “I wanted them to see I’d thought this through, that I had plans to keep the cost to an absolute minimum, and that the idea went way beyond something that looks neat and pretty on the surface.”

“Miss Sinclair gathered studies from libraries across the country that have done a similar thing,” Nina added, defeat evident in her words as well.

“And?”

“Communities in those areas actually showed an increase in reading scores at the elementary school level.”

Tori saw Milo’s head shake in the reflection from the window. “And what’s changed? Why can’t the board see all this?”

“Because I’ve turned into a walking, talking black hole.” Tori slowly turned from the window, her arms clasping one another across her dusty rose sweater set. “First, I nearly miss your classroom’s first visit to the library. Why? Because I can’t find the appointment book I’ve been told was virtually nailed to the information desk for forty years. Then, I can find every craft supply known to mankind except the Popsicle sticks I needed in order to make pyramids with your students.”

The left corner of Milo’s mouth twitched. Followed by the right side.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her hands dropping to her sides.

“You’re kind of cute when you’re losing it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I doubt
that
.”

“Listen. Whether or not you were ready for us that first day or whether you had to get wooden sticks from another source . . . it doesn’t change one simple fact. My kids
love
coming here. Do you know I’ve been getting a jar of butter every day since? You’ve single-handedly stymied apple sales across Sweet Briar.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Investigator McGuire will be knocking on my door any minute now to harass me about that as well.”

Milo’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry, Tori; I was just trying to lighten the mood. You seem so stressed.”

The unmistakable concern in the man’s eyes tugged at her heart, made her wish they could slip away to Debbie’s Bakery for a break in the insanity. But they couldn’t.

“I
am
stressed. I prepared a binder for each member of the board last week. In them were facts and figures I’ve compiled as well as plans I have for the children’s room I’m proposing. But now”—she gestured toward her desk as her voice broke—“they’re gone. Every single one of them.”

“Gone?” He strode across the room, his head ducking to look below the desk and then popping up to scan the top. “How could they be gone?”

She threw her hands into the air, exhaling a piece of wavy brown hair from her face. “
That
is the million-dollar question. Though, quite frankly, I’m growing more and more certain that someone is deliberately trying to sabotage me. I mean, really, what other explanation is there?”

Milo looked from Tori to Nina to the clock hanging on the wall. “Unfortunately, you’ve only got ten minutes to figure out what you’re going to do.”

“
Ten
minutes—oh, Nina, what am I going to
do
?” Tori nibbled her lower lip inward, her hands beginning to tremble at her sides. “These people are coming to my first meeting as head librarian—a woman they brought down from Chicago only to have her show up on the top of the suspect list in the town’s first-ever murder investigation. This was my chance to show them I’m not crazy.”

She heard the shrillness of her voice, felt Milo’s concern and Nina’s pity. And for once in her life she was at a complete loss on how to dig her way out of a mess she hadn’t seen coming.

“This idea had nothing to do with Tiffany Ann’s murder. You didn’t come up with this to show them anything. You came up with this first. Because it’s a tremendous idea.”

Tori leaned against the desk. “It
was
.”

“It still is.” Milo leaned against the desk beside her, his hands curled around its edge. “You don’t need a binder with bullet points and numbers to convince them you know what you’re doing or that this is going to be a home run for the library.”

“Of course I do,” she said flatly.

“No, you don’t. I didn’t have a binder sitting in front of me at Debbie’s the other night. I didn’t have numbers and studies and projections to cull through. I just had you and your ideas and your excitement.” Milo pulled his right hand from the desk, tentatively raised it to her face and brushed a wayward curl from her forehead. “Trust me, if they see what I saw . . . if they hear what I heard . . . you’ll get your room.”

She closed her eyes as his skin brushed against hers, felt the shiver that began at the place of contact and reverberated through her entire body. Was he right? Could she pull it off simply by talking?

“He’s right, Miss Sinclair. You had me imagining the storybook scenes on the wall that first day in the storage room simply by the way you described it. And that was with all those boxes still stacked to the ceiling.”

“Just get out there and tell them everything you told me Sunday night.” Milo pushed off the edge of the desk and extended his hand to Tori, encircling hers and pulling her to stand. “Forget Tiffany Ann, forget these silly suspicions, forget the next box of lightbulbs you might have to buy.”

She grinned. “Have to.”

He looked a question at her.

“You mean the next box of lightbulbs I
have
to buy, Milo.”

His mouth fell. “Are you serious?”

She rolled her eyes again, though this time it was as much with amusement as it was exasperation. “I may have hurt the apple industry but I’ve more than made up for it with the lightbulb folks.”

“You gonna be okay?” he asked as he walked across the office and stopped just before the door.

“I am. Thank you.” And she meant it. Before Milo Wentworth had arrived in her office she’d been the epitome of the desperate female. His calming voice and clear thoughts had been the only thing to talk her off the cliff.

“You had it in you the whole time, Tori. Your eyes just got a little cloudy for a minute.” He nodded at Nina. “Good luck you two.”

And then he was gone. A sense of determination and hope left in his wake.

“We can do this, Nina.” She looked at her assistant, knew the optimistic smile she saw on the woman’s face was a mirror of her own. “But I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

She grabbed a pad of paper from the top of her desk and wrote ten children’s titles on the top page before ripping it off and handing it to Nina. “Can you find these books for me and place them in a pile by the head table?”

Nina’s gaze skimmed down the page, a light twinkling in her eyes. When she reached the bottom of the list she looked up and nodded in satisfaction. “Consider it done.”

And then she, too, was gone.

Buoyed by the confidence of both Milo and Nina, Tori flipped off the light switch and headed into the hall, her mind focused on the task in front of her. The children’s room was a no-brainer. It simply made sense—from a standpoint of utilizing a perfectly good room and from the board’s desire to bring some fresh ideas and positive change to the Sweet Briar Public Library.

She was simply backing up the very reason they hired her. And in less than a month. All she needed to do was lay out her idea in as persuasive a way as possible. The rest was out of her hands.

Knowing that made it easier to walk down the hallway and face the people who’d hired her for this position. Winston Hohlbrook, the board’s president, had been high on her from the very first interview. And if Lincoln Porter and James Polk had had any initial reservations about bringing in someone from up north, those were gone by the second interview.

The one commonality between all of their feedback? They liked her enthusiasm for books and her passionate ideas for reaching the community through various literary endeavors. The children’s room should simply be seen as the first concrete step in fulfilling those initial impressions.

“Good evening, everyone.” Tori smiled as she walked into the branch, a hush falling over the assembled crowd as she stopped to shake a few hands before taking her place at the head table beside the board members.

As she looked out over the larger-than-expected crowd of Sweet Briar residents she felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Investigator Daniel McGuire in the front row—Leona Elkin at his side and Dixie Dunn at hers.

She swallowed over the lump that sprang into her throat. Who was she kidding? The board hadn’t gotten a young librarian with fresh new ideas and energy to spare. They’d gotten a murder suspect.

A quick motion to the left of the investigator brought Milo within sight—the man who’d single-handedly rallied her mood. A raspy cough pulled her attention even farther to the left, to a group of women who’d come to support her efforts. Lifting her hand in a tiny wave, she felt her eyes grow moist as she smiled at Rose, Debbie, and Margaret Louise.

You can do this, Tori.

“I’d like to welcome everyone to the Sweet Briar Public Library’s monthly meeting.” Winston Hohlbrook stood behind his chair, his shoulders arched back as he addressed the crowd. “I’m not quite sure when we last saw this many people at a library meeting but I, for one, am thrilled.

“Now I wish I could say the turnout is for me and my ease with a crowd but as much as I hate to do it, I need to acknowledge you’re not here for me.” Winston gestured to Tori, encouraging her to stand and face the audience. “I believe you’re here on account of our brand-new librarian, Victoria Sinclair.”

A polite smattering of applause sprang up around the room, followed by an ear-piercing whistle.

Margaret Louise.

“People are naturally drawn to a train wreck,” mumbled Dixie beneath her breath.

If anyone in the room heard the former librarian, they gave no indication.

“Victoria, would you like to take over?” Winston pulled out his chair and lowered himself down, his genuine smile giving no indication he was fazed by the murder talk making the rounds of Sweet Briar.

Forcing herself to disregard Dixie’s slam, she clasped her hands together and looked out over the crowd. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Hohlbrook. Although I haven’t been here three weeks yet, I can honestly say I love this library. I love the collection the board has built, I love the patrons, and”—she gestured to Milo—“I love the students who have been visiting our branch on a weekly basis.”

A few heads nodded in the crowd as the board members beamed.

“You mean you love their
teacher
,” Dixie quipped.

Tori felt her face warm as the woman’s words echoed through the room, knew her palms were sweating as Investigator McGuire crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes in intrigue.

She didn’t need to look to know the board members were growing uncomfortable with the former librarian’s barbs. She didn’t need Milo or anyone else to fill in the blanks as to what would happen to her idea if she didn’t plow ahead anyway.

“I love the
children
, Ms. Dunn,” Tori gently corrected before moving on with her plan. “But perhaps what I’ve enjoyed the most so far is looking around this building and seeing the amazing potential to serve Sweet Briar residents on a grander scale.” She stepped out from behind the table and swept her hand across the shelves of picture books and independent readers. “In particular, the children of Sweet Briar.”

Winston Hohlbrook shifted in his seat as he brought his chin to rest between his thumb and index finger.

“Most people develop their love of reading as children. Those who love to read as youngsters tend to read throughout their life. Those who don’t tend to avoid books altogether.”

Heads nodded.

“For some children, the simple act of reading stirs the imagination and they can lose themselves in the pages of a book. They need no prompting. Others”—she looked at Rose and Margaret Louise—“need someone to show them the excitement of books. To help make them come alive.

“And that’s what I want to do with a brand-new children’s room.”

Tori stole a look in the board’s direction, saw the shifting and posturing she’d anticipated. Focusing back on the community she continued. “A children’s room that I can create without a construction crew and without spending more than about four hundred dollars, at most.”

“How is that possible, Miss Sinclair?” Lincoln Porter, one of the board members, asked.

Tori clapped her hands softly as the excitement she’d been feeding off of since the moment she saw the storage room bubbled up. “Before I explain the specifics of my plan I’d like to take a little field trip. Right down that hall.” She pointed to the hallway visible in the back center of the room. “I think seeing the gem that’s lurking under this roof will make the rest of my ideas easier to envision.”