Миранда Джеймс - Twelve Angry Librarians

I sat back and waited for them to mull over my words. Our server came to the table with a glass of water for me, introduced himself, and then asked if we were ready to place our orders. I waited for Marisue and Randi to give theirs, then I told the young man what I wanted, the All-American Cheeseburger and salad, with unsweetened iced tea, no lemon, to drink. I loved their sweet tea, but it had way too much sugar in it.

Once the server finished writing down our orders, collected the menus, and moved away, I looked at Marisue and Randi and waited for them to respond to what I had said right before the server came to the table.

Randi fiddled with her spoon and avoided meeting my gaze. Marisue stared at something over my shoulder. I waited, however, and didn’t prompt them to speak.

Finally Randi broke the silence. She glanced quickly at Marisue and away again as she spoke. “The thing is, Charlie, we don’t know anything for sure. I mean, we have no proof of it. It’s more like an educated guess.”

“That’s a start,” I said.

“A couple of years ago, we heard that Gavin bought a new car,” Randi said. “A BMW, one that sells for well over a hundred thousand dollars.”

I almost spit out the water I’d sipped the moment before. How on earth could a librarian afford a car that expensive?

He could if he was blackmailing someone or, in fact, several people .

I set my water glass down and swallowed the mouthful of water. “That is highly suspicious, don’t you think?”

Marisue shrugged. “He could have inherited the money, because he evidently paid cash for it. At least, that’s what we heard through the grapevine.”

“Yes, that’s possible,” I said.

“But from what we heard, Gavin never mentioned a death in the family or ever boasted of having rich relatives,” Randi said. “He was the type who would, though, if he had some.”

“Yes, that would have been entirely in character,” I said. “Unless he’d been saving for years in order to buy a car like that.”

“He was good at getting other people to pay for things,” Marisue said. “If you ever went out to eat with him, he always managed to leave his wallet at home or at the office and never had money to pay his share. He’d say he would pay you back, but that never happened.”

“That’s one way to save money,” I said.

Marisue shared a grim smile. “Anyone who worked with him learned not to go out to eat with him after the first couple of times, though. So that trick didn’t work for long.”

“He always wanted to go to expensive restaurants, too,” Randi said. “No fast food or a diner for him.”

“I suppose, then, he could have saved the money,” I said. “I think it’s something Deputy Berry will want to investigate, though, in case the money actually came from blackmail.”

“Do we have to tell her?” Randi asked. “Can’t you do it for us?”

“I can tell her,” I said. “But she will probably want to talk to you about it. If she asks me where I got the information, I will have to tell her.”

“All right, then,” Marisue said. “I suppose we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

The server brought the grilled chicken salads Marisue and Randi had ordered and informed me that my food would be out soon. I nodded and smiled, but waited until the young man was out of the way before I continued.

“There’s another part of this,” I said. “I know you might balk at it, but I have to ask.”

Both women looked up from their salads and frowned at me. “Ask what?” Randi said at the same time Marisue said, “Balk at what?”

“If Gavin was blackmailing people and getting money from them, and you both agree with me that is a distinct possibility,” I said, “then I have to ask you if you have any ideas about whom he might have been blackmailing.”

Marisue put down the fork she had been about to stab into her salad. “I can’t give you a specific name, and I don’t think Randi can, either.” Her gaze slid sideways to her friend and then refocused on me. Randi shook her head in agreement with Marisue.

“But,” Randi drew out the word, “I’d say the most obvious targets for blackmail would be people who had worked with Gavin who were trying to move up and out to higher-paying jobs.”

“People like Harlan Crais, for example,” I said.

Both women nodded.

“Do you think he would have limited himself to people he worked with, or might he have tried his hand at targets outside his own workplace?”

“He could have, I suppose,” Randi replied.

Marisue leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think what you’re getting at here is whether Gavin went around collecting gossip, looking for anything he could make a profit from.”

I wondered about Marisue’s defensive body language and whether it was an unconscious reaction. Had she been one of Gavin’s victims? I hadn’t considered the possibility that either of my friends here could be a viable suspect in Gavin’s death. And, by extension, Maxine Muller’s.

“Yes, that’s what I’m getting at.” I noted that Randi didn’t seem bothered by either my question or Marisue’s response. Interesting, but even the best of friends don’t share everything, I told myself.

I suspected they knew more than they were willing to share with me, and I wondered if I could get more out of both of them if I managed somehow to talk to them one-on-one. I’d have to give it a try if I could think of a way to separate them.

“Where Gavin is concerned, anything sleazy is possible,” Randi said.

Marisue nodded, picked up her fork, and began to eat.

“I will mention that possibility to Deputy Berry,” I said. “She can take it from there if she has to dig deeper into Gavin’s activities.”

The server brought my cheeseburger and salad, and for the next few minutes I focused on eating my lunch. Neither Marisue nor Randi spoke, other than to say how good their salads were. I decided to let the silence build and waited to see what, if anything, they chose to say.

I thought about the nature of Maxine Muller’s role in Gavin’s alleged blackmail activities. Based on what Lisa Krause overheard at the luncheon yesterday, I was willing to bet that Maxine knew something. The question was, how much did she know?

That led to another thought. Was she murdered because she was a partner in the scheme? Or did she know just enough to spook the killer into taking her out as a precautionary move?

Then a truly terrifying thought struck me. How much cyanide—or whatever poison was used—did the killer still have? I hadn’t considered this. I was sure Kanesha had considered it, though.

Maybe the killer had finished, once both Gavin and Maxine were dead. I could only pray that this was so and that more deaths wouldn’t follow. Talk about a nightmare scenario. My lunch suddenly soured in my stomach. I put down the last bit of cheeseburger and pushed my plate aside.

My expression must have alerted Randi that something was wrong. “Are you okay, Charlie? You look a little green. Is it heartburn?” She grabbed her purse and started rummaging through it. “I have some antacids in here somewhere.”

“No, not heartburn. I suddenly felt full, that’s all.” I gave what I hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m trying to be more careful about how much I eat.” I certainly couldn’t tell them the truth about what I was thinking. I didn’t want to terrify them and start a panic.

Randi eyed me as if she didn’t believe me, but she set her purse back down and resumed eating. Marisue didn’t appear to be all that concerned, and that was okay.

“Would you be offended if I pulled out my cell phone and sent a text?” I asked. “Ordinarily I try not to do things like that during meals, but I thought I would go ahead and let Deputy Berry know I need to talk to her.”