Michael Guillebeau - MAD Librarian - You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Library

Serenity said, “Chief’s letting you take this case? In your wife’s library? On top of the murder?”

“Of course he will.” Joe’s stare was still hard. “Besides, the chief likes you. He can’t believe the library’s involved. Said to do everything I could to help you keep the library open during this. So here’s what I’m going to do for you, Serenity. We need to search the ceilings. All of them. Need to bring drug-sniffing dogs in to see what else we find. We really should shut down the whole library. As a favor to you and the chief, I’ll just shut down this side, like I should have yesterday. I’ll get the guys who are checking the ceiling tiles to wear some kind of coverall, so they look like maintenance. We’ll keep the dogs as quiet as we can. And, we’ll get as much done as we can tonight after you’re closed.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Thanks, Joe. That means a lot.”

He took her hand away. “Then it’s time to trade with me. Tell me what you know about the drugs.”

“What is wrong with you? I don’t know anything about this. You think we’re giving away dime bags with books?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here anymore, Serenity. Every half hour, somebody comes up to me and says, ‘Joe, did you know the library’s expanded its tutoring? Offering basic medical advice and referral to clinics? Business startup support? Murder? Drugs?

“And I have to stand there like a dummy with a pasted-on smile and say, ‘No. I have no idea what my wife is doing now. I knew her a week ago. Don’t know the woman I sleep with now. Scratch that, the woman I didn’t even sleep with last night.’ So, no, don’t play the ‘you know me, Joe’ card. I’m going to follow the facts, Serenity.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Lawman. But I do not spend my days cramming drugs into the ceiling of my library.”

“Somebody does. Either under your nose, or—”

“For crying out loud. This bathroom is ten feet from the front door. People come in all the time to use it and never even come into the main area. And I don’t spend my days monitoring the men’s room.”

He pulled a notepad out of his jacket. “Reporting officer said that was exactly what you were doing when the drugs fell out.”

“No. No. No. Well, yes, but it wasn’t like that.”

He gave her his long, flat emotionless look. “But you were doing exactly what you said you weren’t doing. And the library’s got a lot of new money suddenly. And you’ve got something you don’t want to talk to me about.”

They stood there not speaking for a full minute.

Joe finally said, “Serenity, I’ve got to follow the facts to make sense of the things I see.”

She didn’t say anything.

He took a deep breath and stiffened his back. “I told you. There’s only one man in Maddington County with big money. One man with a taste for beautiful women. And only one man who could move this much dope through my city.”

SERENITY AND JOE’S FIGHT had spilled out of the library and into the parking lot.

“Are you going to tell me again that I’ve got no reason to be suspicious?” he said.

She threw his hand off her arm. “Not what you’re suspicious of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned her back on him and he had to raise his voice to be heard. “Suspicious of what? Murders in the library? Check. Money for nothing? Check. My wife’s eyes all alight with the smoke of some distant fire? Check. Now drugs. Drugs in the library. You know any other library with a drug problem?”

“It happens. One of the Birmingham libraries had a guy selling grass out of the men’s room a while back.”

“That’s more than a dime bag in there, Serenity. And what was all that crap you gave me about suspecting Bentley of murdering his own guy? Something to throw me off the trail?”

“No.” Well, yes.

She screamed, “You don’t understand.”

A saw whirred to a stop, followed by other equipment until the work site was deadly quiet and the men and the spectators were all watching them.

He yelled back, “Then talk to me.”

She was starting to cry and she didn’t want to. “I can’t.”

“Can’t. I think you’ve got the right word. You can’t, ’cause somebody’s got their hands around your throat or around your… I can’t even say it. And I’ve got to stop it.”

She wanted to say something but her words just came out as sobs. One of the workers said, “Leave our boss alone.” A couple of others picked up two-by-fours.

“You’ve got to either give me something to work with, Serenity,” Joes said, “or I’ve got to do this on my own.”

She sobbed as she looked at him.

He turned away. “Tell Steve he’s got the scene here. I’ve got to pick up something at the house.”

He walked away and she went back inside.

It was almost eight before she got away and went home that evening. No Joe. She dialed Joe’s cell five times. Four maddeningly slow rings, followed by “You’ve reached Detective Joe Hammer of the Maddington Police Department. Leave a message.” She yelled at the tone.

Joe was right. Don Juan had to be the source of the money, and the threat. And Joe was taking it personally.

Not good.

She heard a noise from the back of the house. Probably just an echo from her scream. Yeah, definitely an echo. Maybe.

But, she went to the kitchen and pulled out the biggest butcher knife she had. Then, with her left hand, she grabbed her phone and dialed the Maddington Police.

“Bernice, you know where Joe is?”

The dispatcher said, “He’s your husband. Can’t you keep him at home?”

“Obviously not.”

“Well, we haven’t called him in to work tonight. He should have been off-duty a couple of hours ago. He would have checked in with us if he wanted us to know what he was up to. You want to talk to the lieutenant, see if he knows?”

Serenity hesitated. “No.” Then she hung up.

She knew Joe. Joe-the-cop always made sure the police desk knew where he was, in case something went wrong.

“Except,” he had said with a grin, once, years ago, when they discussed his compulsion to make sure someone always knew where he was. “Except when I want to do something that can’t be done officially.”

Like go after Don Juan. Alone.

And that didn’t feel good.

She tried his cell again. No answer.

There it was, that noise again. Jerking her head around, she thought she saw a blur out the window.

She didn’t want to be there alone. Didn’t want Joe to be wherever he was, alone, either. Long list of didn’t wants came to her head.

Didn’t want Joe going after a mobster alone.

Didn’t want Joe getting hurt.

Didn’t want to lose Joe.

Damn Joe.

Didn’t want Joe talking to Don Juan and finding out he hadn’t killed Kendall, which might lead to his finding out that Doom had killed Kendall.

Didn’t want to cover up for Doom anymore.

Damn Doom.

Serenity went to their gun safe and opened it. She was right. Joe had come home for the illegal gun with the serial number filed off that he kept locked in the safe.

Next to where it should have been was the pearl-handled revolver Joe had bought her years ago, mostly as a joke. She had surprised him and taken basic and advanced training, and still kept in practice.

I’ve got to stop this.

She picked up her gun, cracked the cylinder, loaded five shells and threw the rest in her purse. She put the gun in behind them and walked, crouching, through the house to the garage. Just as she hit the garage door remote, she heard footsteps on the concrete.

She took the pistol out and pointed it at the rising door, which showed a growing slice of the outside world.