Darlene Gardner - An Honorable Man

The young female librarian who’d helped her access the back issues of the Gazette was gone, replaced by an Indigo Springs institution. Louise Wiesneski had once directed Sierra to source material for her high school research papers. More recently, the librarian checked out books Sierra used to fuel her reading habit.

“What brings you here today?” Mrs. Wiesneski asked in an authoritative voice that had the unfortunate tendency to carry. A large woman, she even looked tall sitting down. “The latest mystery? Or one of those sports biographies you’re always reading?”

“Nothing that exciting.” Sierra set the microfilm on the counter and devised a noncommittal answer that would satisfy the nosy librarian. “I was just using the microfiche machine.”

Mrs. Wiesneski picked up the container and checked the label. “Hmm. Nobody’s looked at a back issue of the Gazette in months, yet you’re the second person today who requested this same roll of film.”

“This other person,” Sierra asked. “Was his name Ben Nash?”

“It most certainly was. Said he was a reporter for some newspaper in Pittsburgh. Do you know him?”

“Sort of,” Sierra said absently while she prepared to go against her instincts. The other times she’d been in the library, she’d kept her conversations with Mrs. Wiesneski brief to avoid gossiping. “Did he ask you any questions?”

“As a matter of fact, he did.” Mrs. Wiesneski lowered her too-loud voice, eager to share her information. “He wanted to know if I had a record of everyone who signed on to the Internet Friday morning. Well, you know how busy we get in here come tourist season. People are waiting to use the computers when we open at nine. Even if we did keep a record, which we don’t, I wouldn’t have told him, being as that’s privileged information.”

So Ben had been unsuccessful in tracking down the sender of the anonymous e-mail. Interesting but not unexpected.

“He also asked if I remembered anything about some tourist who died in Indigo Springs a long time ago,” Mrs. Wiesneski continued. “Now you know me, I remember everything. Except that was before my time.”

Sierra’s brows must have lifted, because the other woman kept talking. “I know sometimes it seems like I’ve been here forever, but it’s only been seventeen years. Now are you gonna tell me what this is all about?”

Not likely, Sierra thought.

“Curiosity,” Sierra said. “He asked my brother and me the same kinds of questions.”

The librarian nodded, but the speculative gleam in her eyes suggested she realized Sierra had dodged the question. Her attention wavered, and she nodded to a spot behind Sierra.

“Speak of the devil,” she said.

Sierra quickly turned around to see Ben Nash striding through the library straight toward them with his long, measured gait. Self-assurance poured off him, but she had the impression he’d be surprised if he knew he’d drawn every eye in the place.

“Please thank Betty for her help,” Sierra said hurriedly, referring to the other librarian by name, before quickly moving away from the desk.

Whatever Ben had to say to her would be said in private.

BEN WATCHED Sierra Whitmore hurry past the shelf containing the new releases with her chin high and her steps clipped, her pretty mouth turned down at the corners.

He hadn’t expected her to be happy he’d tracked her down yet couldn’t help wishing for the warm smile she’d greeted him with earlier. Before she’d found out who he was and why he was in town.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“I thought we were meeting at my office.”

“I took a chance you’d be here instead.”

Her gaze slid to the reference desk, probably to check if the microfilm she’d been viewing was still visible. Even if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of the canister, he could have easily figured out she’d come to the library to go through back issues of the Gazette. He’d done the same earlier that morning in his quest to find information both about the case and her father.

Her chin lifted even higher when she regarded him again. She’d shed the traditional doctor’s white coat, revealing a red top that added vibrancy to her complexion and a skirt that showed off a pair of long, beautiful legs. She was undeniably attractive, but it was her underlying spunk that drew him to her, hinting at facets of her he’d yet to discover.

“There’s something you should know about me,” she said with spirit. “I never enter any situation unprepared. I like to know what I’m up against.”

“Totally understandable,” Ben said. “I can give you the phone number of the Tribune and the name of my managing editor if you like.”

From the slight widening of her eyes, he surmised she’d thought to check out his story of what had happened to Allison Blaine, but it hadn’t occurred to her to verify his credentials.

“I can find the phone number myself, thank you very much,” she said.

Even on guard and distrusting, she was polite. Yet he was more interested in what was under the stuffy facade. He’d love to get another glimpse of the woman he’d kissed the night before. That wasn’t going to happen unless he could make amends.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he began.

She put a finger to her lips and cut her eyes at the exit. The library was fairly busy, with a few of the people perusing the bestsellers regarding them with open curiosity. Sierra led the way outside into the April sunshine.

“I’d rather the entire town didn’t know what you’re doing here.” She spoke in the same soft voice she’d used inside the charming brick building even though the library sat atop a small hill a fair distance from the street.

“I’m not planning to keep it a secret.”

“You kept it from me last night,” she retorted.

“That’s why I was apologizing.” He scratched the back of his neck when she didn’t respond, wondering what he could say to get her to understand. “In my defense, I didn’t know who you were when we made plans to get together.”

“Oh, really?” Disbelief dripped from her voice.

“Really. It was only when the bartender mentioned you were a doctor that I put it together.”

“Is that when you decided to pull one over on me?”

“If that’s what I was trying to do, why didn’t I grill you about your father?”

The steel in her expression didn’t melt, not even a little. “That’s no excuse for not telling me you were a reporter.”

He remembered how crestfallen she’d looked when her ex-boyfriend had entered the bar, prompting him to temporarily put aside his investigation. “I didn’t think it was the right time to tell you.”

“You thought wrong,” she said.

She turned from him and walked away from the library, toward the sidewalk that cut a swath through the mix of delightful old buildings and new storefronts that made up downtown Indigo Springs. Some of the trees had started to blossom, giving the air a floral scent. He fell into step beside her.

“There are a few things you need to know before we go see my mother,” she announced without looking at him.

“Shoot,” he said.

“My parents grew up next door to each other. They were married for thirty-five years. My mother was devastated when my father died. She says she can’t remember a time she didn’t love him.”

She fell silent as they maneuvered around a man in khaki shorts and hiking shoes taking a photo of a woman in front of a pretty stone building. When they were free of the pair, she pointed across the street to a lush green space shaded with tall trees. It boasted park benches, a children’s play area with wooden structures and an amphitheater set well back from the road.