Tempest in the Tea Leaves (19 page)

Until I noticed Carolyn Hanes. She’d focused on the newcomer, and a hurt look crossed her features. The hurt quickly turned to anger as she faced front once more, made the sign of the cross, and prayed to Jesus. The newcomer could only be one person.

The new manager of the library.

 

 

I’d heard the Historical Society was having a meeting that afternoon at the town hall. It was open to the public, so I decided to go and check it out. I slipped in the back as the meeting was in full swing, hung up my puffy coat on one of the last available coat hooks, and then slid into the last row in the back to listen to Gladys Montgomery.

“Calm down, people, I understand how you feel. I don’t want to lose the library any more than you do. It’s been a part of Divinity for ages, but we have to face the fact that it’s not thriving. Alex Pendleton is a snake and only cares about making money. But he does have a point. The library is losing money. Our town is losing money. We need businesses to bring in revenue and jobs, but we just don’t have enough land zoned for that sort of thing. And, frankly, we have other landmarks more worthy of saving. If we don’t let him have the library, he’ll take something else. It’s all about compromise.”

“What about the anonymous gift the library received?” someone asked. “I heard that will keep the library afloat for at least another year.”

“And what then? What if there isn’t another gift, and Pendleton has moved on?” Gladys asked. “Then the library closes and just sits there.”

“Amanda Robbins would roll over in her grave to hear you talk like that,” someone else said.

“I’ve spoken to Pendleton,” Gladys went on, ignoring the comment about the librarian. “He would be willing to drop his pursuit of the old Divinity Theatre Hotel if we let him have the library. I know we don’t want to lose the library, but like I said, it’s not doing well anyway, and a bookstore would still provide books. Whereas the Theatre Hotel is ancient. It’s been around much longer than the library and is therefore a more desirable candidate for National Historical Landmark status.” Gladys’s eyes lit up.

“Don’t you see? We are so close. The National Park System Advisory Board has already had their meeting and has recommended the hotel to the secretary of the interior for potential landmarks. His final decision should be made in a couple of weeks. If we don’t give the library to Pendleton, then he will most certainly petition the secretary to try to stop the hotel’s landmark status so he can put his bookstore there. The hotel would make a wonderful museum, and once it becomes a landmark Pendleton won’t be able to touch it. I know we have some tough decisions ahead, but what choice do we have?”

“A lot of our citizens are hurting for money, too, not just this town. How do you think they will be able to pay for books or afford to go to a museum?” someone else chimed in. “At least with the library open, our citizens have some sort of free entertainment. And think of the children. The library hosts wonderful programs for the children and gets them interested in reading. The kids won’t read half as much if their parents can’t afford to pay for books.”

“Don’t forget the seniors,” Maude Sampson said. “For some of us, the library is all we have left.”

“The library can’t close down,” Bernard Sampson added, sitting tall and solid by his wife’s side. “Those who are retired have no place else to go.” He glanced at his wife, and his jaw worked beneath his skin. He jingled the change in his pocket. “My wife needs that library, plain and simple.”

“You may not have a choice, Ms. Montgomery, but I do,” said Ms. Smith, the new manager of the library. “I now have Amanda’s vote and am proud to say I agree with her decision. The library stays.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sampson.” Gladys straightened her spine and burned daggers from her eyes at Ms. Smith. “As president of the Library Board, I’ve called for a revote.”

“But Ms. Robbins was the deciding vote, and Ms. Smith said her vote still holds. The results will be the same,” yet another citizen pointed out.

“You never know. Some votes might be swayed after today’s meeting,” Gladys said.

“My thoughts exactly,” said a tall blonde in an expensive suit, carrying a tiny dog in her purse, as she entered the back of the town hall.

No one recognized the stranger, save one. Gladys’s pale face gave away all. This had to be the mystery woman she, Carolyn, and Pendleton had been trying to sway with no luck.

“That’s why I’ve decided to double my gift to the library,” the woman finished with a satisfied smile, chorused by several gasps around the room and an eruption of cheers. “That’s right, good citizens of Divinity. My name is Lucinda Griswold III. Your library might be running out of funds, but my pocketbook is not. I have a huge soft spot for libraries, and your town is simply divine.” She locked eyes on Gladys. “I think I’ll stay for a spell.”

Gladys gripped the podium, looking like she might be sick.

Grabbing my coat off the hook, I slipped out the back of the town hall as quietly as I could. I decided to walk and think for a while. Passing the ice rink in the center town park, I strolled down the business district and ran into Detective Stone.

“Hey, Tink, I was looking for you. Where are you coming from?” He fell into step beside me.

“Church with my parents and then the town hall meeting.”

“Church?”

“I go.” I hoisted my chin high in the air. “Just not as much as I’d like to since I’ve been here.”

“I’m not questioning that or judging you. I simply can’t imagine you sitting in a pew with your parents like one big happy family.”

“Trust me, there was a lot of praying involved.” I snorted.

“So how’d the meeting go?”

“Very interesting.” I told him about all the details that had come out during the meeting. How Gladys wanted to trade the library to Pendleton in order to keep the hotel in hopes of making it a landmark. And how Pendleton had promised higher-paying jobs to library employees, which explained Carolyn’s interest. Then I finished with, “I still think the three of them were in cahoots to get rid of Amanda since she was the deciding vote to keep the library open. They probably hadn’t counted on Carolyn not getting the manager position at the library, and they especially didn’t count on the anonymous gift.”

Mitch looked thoughtful as we walked. “What I don’t understand is this Griswold woman. She has more money than she knows what to do with, obviously, but why Divinity? Why this small library?”

“That’s what I keep wondering, too. There has to be more to this story. We’re missing something.”

“Agreed. We need to find a possible link to digoxin for the trio and look more into Miss Griswold’s background. Friends, enemies, grudges, et cetera. Anything or anyone to connect her to Divinity.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with. How about you? Anything new?”

“More dead ends. What about your father? Any luck with the doctor?”

“Not yet.” I blew out a breath. “I’m still worried. What if none of these leads pans out?”

Mitch stared at me for a long, intense moment. “We don’t have any hard evidence on you, Tink. Unless the murder weapon suddenly shows up at your house, you’re fine.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Right,” I said, shoving my hands in my coat pocket, and then I went into a coughing fit.

“You okay?” Mitch patted me on the back, and I jerked away.

“Fine, fine. I don’t like to be touched when I’m coughing.” That sounded ridiculous to my own ears, but I could not let the detective get too close to me.

He held his hands up. “Oh-kay. Whatever you say, Tink, but just for the record,you’re acting weird again.”

“Don’t you know by now that weird is my middle name?” I faked a smile. “It’s a trendy city thing.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.” He slid his sunglasses over his eyes, but that still didn’t hide his expression.
He must think I’m totally whacked.
“I’m going to look into the public records. Do some digging. I was going to ask you to dinner, but you don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie down.”

“Good idea.” I kept my hands in my pockets. “Catch you on the flip side.” I turned on my heel and took off as fast as I could until I rounded the dead-end road to my house.

Stopping, I glanced around several times until I was certain I was alone. Finally, I pulled my hand out of my pocket, tightly holding the contents.

Just as I suspected. Another small bottle of digoxin like the one that had been in my cupboard. There was no name on the prescription. It had been scratched off just like the other bottle as well. But how on earth did it get there?

I had taken my coat off in the town hall during the meeting and hung it up on the coatrack in the back. Someone at that meeting must have slipped the digoxin inside. A chill ran over me. The real killer was trying to set me up to take the fall.

Everyone in town knew I was a suspect with no alibi but also no murder weapon. If they could get Detective Stone to find me with the evidence on my person or in my house, then I was screwed. We’d formed a truce of sorts, but he still thought I was a quack, and he didn’t trust women. He wouldn’t hesitate to haul me off to jail, case closed. I had to up my game and solve this case before the situation spiraled out of control.

Things were about to get ugly.

Later that night, I walked into Smokey Jo’s to grab a bite to eat. A little freaked out over the whole killer-stalking-my-every-move thing, I didn’t feel like being alone. Even big, bad, spooky Morty could sense something was off and had disappeared—and he was far from a coward. Meanwhile little ole fraidy-cat me was a nervous wreck, and I couldn’t even share it with anyone.

I couldn’t tell my parents because they would stick to me like wet tea leaves even more than they already were or, knowing them, hire a bodyguard. And I couldn’t tell Mitch because he wouldn’t believe me. He’d confiscate the digoxin as the proof he needed to arrest me. I didn’t dare tell Jo or Sean because I didn’t want to involve them or give the detective an excuse to arrest them as accomplices. So, basically, I was on my own.

I found a spot at the bar and tried to decide what to eat for dinner. Glancing around, I noticed the place looked pretty empty tonight. Just a few locals, and—

My jaw fell wide-open.

Detective Grumpy Pants and Lucinda Griswold III?

It hadn’t taken him long to find another dinner date. I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes in his direction. I knew when he’d said he was going to ask me to dinner, he hadn’t meant as a real “date.” But it still irritated me that he’d moved on so quickly.

My rational side knew the detective in him was just checking her out, but my emotional side suspected the man in him was checking her out in another way. He looked so relaxed, leaning back in his chair, his arm draped over the back and his knees spread wide. Lucinda said something, and Mitch threw back his head in a laugh. The grin that crept across her face was sexy as hell and full of promise. Even worse, Mitch smiled a real and genuine full smile with crow’s-feet and all.

Something in my chest, that I refused to put a name to, tightened. Like it or not, I realized, my vision was coming true. The heartache had begun, and I was terrified there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Hey, lass, why so down?” Sean tapped my cheek, capturing my attention.

I jumped, placing a hand on my aching chest and then inhaling deeply. “Sorry. It’s been a weird couple of days.”

“Is there anything I can do?” He leaned across the bar, his firm biceps fully flexed and on display. “Say the word.”

“You already have.” I squeezed his arm, the corners of my mouth lifting along with my spirits. “You always cheer me up, Mr. O’Malley.”

He placed his hand across his heart. “Then may the gods bless me as I slip peacefully into the night knowing I have accomplished my sole mission in life.”

“You are such a devil.” I shook my head but couldn’t stop grinning. He really had put me in a better mood. Then again, he always did.

“And you, my love, are an angel from above.” He held both my hands in his. “You’ve stolen my heart. You do know that, don’t you?”

“You have a heart?” I teased.

“Aye, and it belongs to only you.” The look in his eyes was anything but teasing.

I didn’t need to be psychic to see he was actually telling the truth. I pressed my lips together. He felt for me the way I felt for Mitch, and heartache or not, I couldn’t stop him from falling any more than I could stop myself.

My gaze was drawn to where Mitch sat with Lucinda, but they were gone. I tore my eyes away from their empty chairs, trying not to wonder if they’d left together, and glanced back at the bartender. “Sean . . . ?”

His gaze shot to where mine had been and then back to me with a dawning expression of realization. Regret and disappointment flashed across his features, but then his expression quickly changed to a carefree, fun-loving one. “No worries, love. What can I get for you?” He straightened and started wiping the bar as if the entire exchange had never happened.