Лори Касс - Pouncing On Murder

“Ah,” he said with patronizing satisfaction. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

I was, and it was wonderful. In my head, the library grounds had turned into something between a circus and a medieval fair. White tents with high peaks, colored streamers, vendors hawking their wares, and people milling about everywhere.

“You’re right,” I’d said, opening my eyes. “The tents alone will attract interest.”

“Hmm?” Stephen’s attention had already returned to his computer. “Oh, the tents. Yes. See to it, Minnie, will you?”

And so I did. And I was. Which was why I was walking around the library lawn with Gordon, making last-minute placement decisions that I hoped would turn out okay, because a significant percentage of my brain was still thinking about what Irene had said that morning.

“We were at the hospital,” she’d told me, hugging herself against the wind. “They’re doing all that construction, putting on that big addition, remember? I’d wanted to drop Adam off at the door, but he wouldn’t let me, said he was perfectly capable of walking across the parking lot.”

“Sounds like him,” I’d said, smiling.

Irene hadn’t smiled back. “The problem is, with the construction, the sidewalks are all torn up and they want you to walk all the way around that annex building to get to the front door and I could see that Adam was getting tired, so I made him cut across the grass.”

I’d felt my brow furrowing in the effort to picture what she was talking about. “Doesn’t that mean you were walking through the construction area?”

She’d nodded. “It was shorter by at least a hundred yards—you could see a path where a lot of people had gone that way. And there was no one working there, so I didn’t have a problem doing it. When we left the building, we walked back the same way and”—she’d hugged herself even tighter—“and this huge pile of bricks fell on the grass right next to Adam. It almost hit him.”

“Right over there.”

The male voice brought me back to the here and now. I blinked, and there I was, standing on the library lawn, working out the future location of tents. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What was that? My mind was wandering.”

Gordon nodded, a sideways sort of smile on his face. “I bet. You probably have a thousand things to do between now and Saturday morning.”

Actually things were pretty much set, but it was nice of him to be so understanding. “Thanks. Tomorrow I’ll be out on the bookmobile, so it’s today and Friday to finish up.”

“You run the bookmobile?” His face lit up. “I’ve seen it around, but I didn’t realize that was you.”

I beamed. He had a sympathetic personality and he liked the bookmobile. If he hadn’t been a little too old for me and, if the ring on his finger was any indication, already married, I’d have thrown myself into his arms. “We’ve been on the road for almost a year and I get requests for new stops almost every week.”

“We lived downstate when I was a kid,” he said, “and there was a bookmobile stop practically at my front door. I grew up thinking it stopped there just for me.” He grinned. “Funny the things you think when you’re a kid.”

“I’m not sure that ends when you grow up,” I said.

He laughed. “So, is driving the bookmobile as much fun as it looks like? Please don’t say it’s not. You’ll ruin my last illusion.”

“Not a chance,” I said firmly. “We even have a bookmobile cat.”

“Eddie.” He nodded. “I’ve heard of him.”

My cat, bookmobile ambassador to the world. I made a mental note not to tell him. Catlike, he already had an inflated view of his own importance.

“Which means you knew Henry Gill,” Gordon said.

As non sequiturs went, this was an excellent one. And a little creepy. “How do you know that?”

“Got a cousin Bob who does property management. Used to be in real estate. Well, I guess he still has his license, but he doesn’t use it much anymore.” Gordon shrugged. “Anyway, he takes care of some summer places over near Henry’s, and with Henry being the only year-round guy out there, they’d talk once in a while.”

My guess was that Bob had done most of the talking.

Gordon smiled. “Henry told Bob about the bookmobile and its cat and the nice ladies who helped him find books.”

Sudden tears pricked at my eyes. “So annoying,” I said, “him being nice behind our backs like that.”

“That was Henry all over,” Gordon said, nodding.

A small, but very bright, lightbulb belatedly clicked on in my head. “So, your cousin Bob,” I said. “Does he take care of Cole Duvall’s property? He’s on Rock Lake, practically right next to Henry.”

“Sounds right,” Gordon said. “Big guy, married into money?” He laughed. “Wish I’d done that. This working-for-a-living stuff is getting old. But if you’re looking for a property manager, give Bob a call. He’s okay, even if he is one of my blood relatives.” He said he’d get me his cousin’s phone number, and we moved on to locating the next tent.

On the outside, I was calm and professional and focused. On the inside, however, I was mentally high-fiving it with serendipity.

• • •

Inside the library’s break room, however, there was no high-fiving, no fist bumps, and it didn’t look as if serendipity had a chance of gaining a foothold any time soon.

I looked from Holly to Josh and back to Holly, then at the wall clock. There was only five minutes until our self-mandated mutual break time was over. If I was going to smooth over whatever was going on, I had to leap straight into the fray, no time even for a short bout of recaffeination.

After one longing glance at the coffeepot, I said, “What’s wrong? No, wait, let me guess. Stephen’s going to eliminate the library’s children’s section because the kids are too noisy.” As an opener, I’d had better, but it was better than nothing.

Holly sniffed. “He won’t tell me his new address.”

I glanced over at Josh and he shrugged and took another sip from the coffee mug he was clutching. He’d given me the address a couple of weeks ago and I’d driven past once, just to see. Though it was an older house, it had a reasonably new roof and the windows had been replaced. Not very big, but Josh was a single guy and it should do him just fine.

“I bet he’s told you,” Holly said, narrowing her eyes. “He has, hasn’t he?”

Josh glared at me. It was a clear warning to keep the location to myself.

Now what was I supposed to do? There was only one course of action that could take this little scene in a positive direction. Immediate diversion.

“Remember I told you that a car almost ran over Adam Deering?” They nodded. Reluctantly, but they nodded. “Well, his wife, Irene, says she thinks someone tried to kill him a second time.”

“What?” Holly looked shocked. “That’s horrible! Did she tell the police?”

“Hang on,” Josh said. “If she’s only thinking it, she must not be sure. What happened, exactly?”

I wasn’t sure, either, which was one of the reasons I wanted to talk this over. I passed on what Irene had said, telling them about the construction, the long walk, and about the bricks that had come so close to crashing down on his head, bricks that might have hurt him badly, or even killed him.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Accident or intentional?”

“Intentional,” Holly said.

“Accident,” Josh said at the same time.

Which was just what I’d figured they’d say. I glanced up at the clock. “One minute left. You each have thirty seconds to make your case. Holly, you first.”

“Had to be on purpose,” she said. “If there was no construction going on in that spot, no workers would have been up there. Bricks don’t fall down by themselves. Someone had to push them over.”