Silas nodded and looked around.“You find a shell casing?”
“Not so far.When we got here, there was a gun on the floor not far from her body.It’s small, though.Looks more like a toy.Reminded me of the gun John Wilkes Booth used when he shot Lincoln.If it was self-inflicted, a suicide, which doesn’t sit well with me, she would have had to know the exact spot she needed to shoot herself to make sure the deed was done.”
“Huh.She was only shot once then?”
“Yeah,” I said.“She was alive when I found her.”
“For how long?”
“A few minutes.”I glanced at my watch.“She died about an hour and forty minutes ago.I can give you the exact time.”
“Good to know.I’ll have a look, see if anything stands out.”
He left my side and made his way over to Foley, who was standing beside Cordelia.Whitlock was walking up and down the book aisles, whistling, something he often did at a crime scene.According to him, it helped him stay calm and focused.In an abrupt manner, the whistling stopped, and Whitlock shouted, “Hey guys.I think I found something.”
5
The “something” Whitlock found was a crumpled-up sticky note, which wasn’t all that unusual given we were in a library.Written on the note was a description I found curious:
Short curly hair
70s
Glasses
“Could mean something, could mean nothing,” Whitlock said.“Hard to say.”
“It describes Cordelia to a T,” I said.
“How many people work here?”Foley asked.“Any idea?”
“I’m not sure.It’s a small library.Maybe a couple of employees and one or two volunteers.”
Foley turned toward me.“The key ring you found … If she was attacked, I was hoping it had fallen from the assailant’s pocket.Turns out one of the keys unlocks the door to the library, and another unlocks Cordelia’s car.”
“She must have dropped them on her way out, or when she realized she wasn’t alone,” I said.
Whitlock moved a hand to his hip.“A library seems like such a strange place for a murder.Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ifshe was murdered,” I said.
“Sure looks like murder to me,” Foley said.“What makes you believe otherwise?”
“Oh, I don’t.I was just thinking about something my mother said to me today.Cordelia made a comment to her about not having anything to live for after her husband died.I’m not saying her loneliness caused her to kill herself, and the whole idea doesn’t work for me.But it does need to be ruled out.”
“Guess we’ll have to wait and see what Silas has to say on the matter after he examines the scene and conducts the autopsy.Until then, it’s fair to assume foul play was involved.”
“I agree.”
I heard a sharp rapping sound, and in unison, our heads turned.In the dim glow of the library’s porch light, a woman stood at the threshold, knocking on the doorjamb.She was dressed in a long nightgown with a puffy coat over it.In her hand was a hot fudge sundae.
Foley cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and shouted, “Library’s closed, ma’am.You’ll have to come back another day.”
“I know it’s closed,” the woman said.“I work here.What I don’t know is whatyouare all doing here at this hour.”
Foley, Whitlock, and I exchanged glances.
“What do you think?”I asked.