Page 14 of Secrets in the Stacks

“I owed you lunch.” Rarity held up a hand. “Anyway, everyone, this is Jonathon Anderson. He’s Drew’s father, so if you see Drew, you don’t know anything about him joining our group.”

“So it’s a secret?” Shirley asked, not looking up from her knitting.

Jonathon shrugged. “I’d rather he didn’t know. If he asks, don’t lie, but let’s just not tell him.”

“So, yes, it’s a secret.” Shirley glanced up at Jonathon. “We have coffee, and the cake over there has nuts in it, so if you’re allergic, stay with the taco dip or the cookies.”

He nodded and went over to get a cup of coffee.

Shirley leaned over to Rarity. “I’m glad we opened up the membership criteria. Now we can have men members too.”

Rarity looked around and pulled the whiteboard closer. “Before we start, Darby has a request. We can say no, and if one person doesn’t want to be involved, we’ll stick to the book club. So don’t feel any pressure to say yes. Darby, do you want to explain what you need?”

Darby stood and cleared her throat. “My grandmother was murdered, and I want help figuring out who did it. I’m sure the police will do their best, but right now, Detective Anderson is looking at me as a suspect. I wouldn’t kill anyone, especially my grandmother. So if you would, I’d like you to help me find out who did.”

She sat down and looked at Rarity like she was passing the floor to her. Rarity stood and nodded at Darby. “Okay then, short and sweet. Darby has asked for our help. It might be dangerous. Last time we got involved, the killer was a little unhinged.”

“My bad,” Shirley called out.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Rarity smiled at Shirley. “There’s a reason the police wear body armor and carry guns. If Catherine Doyle was murdered, then the person who did that won’t want us to find him or her out. It’s not like solving a murder in a book. This can be dangerous.”

“You said that before.” Holly looked around the group. “I think it’s time to bring it to a vote. Who wants to help Darby?”

Everyone raised their hands. The vote was cast. The Tuesday night Survivors’ Book Club had turned back into a sleuthing club.

“I’m so excited.” Malia clapped her hands. “I was getting a little bored with only talking about books.”

“Malia, it is a book club,” Shirley reminded her.

She squirmed in her chair. “I know, but I liked figuring out who killed Martha. It was interesting. So what should we know about your grandmother?”

Darby went through the things Rarity already knew. Shirley wrote everything down as Darby talked. At the end of the meeting, Shirley went into investigator mode. “Okay, so we’ll need to get our notebooks out again. Please clear out any information from the last investigation. You should burn or shred it.”

“You had notebooks?” Jonathon looked surprised.

“We are a sleuthing group. Where are we supposed to take our notes?” Shirley shook her head like Jonathon was silly to suggest otherwise. “Anyway, I’ll make you one, and I’ll bring my notes from tonight for everyone to put in their books. Should we break into assignments?”

“I’ll check the town records on the house and on your grandmother, just in case there’s something there,” Holly offered. “I’m working in city hall now, so I can’t easily access the police records, but I have a back door I set up to test the system. I’ll look there too. Of course, it will only be closed cases. They don’t let me into the open ones.”

“I wonder why,” Jonathon murmured.

Rarity pushed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Jonathon was going to learn a lot from the book club. That was something she could promise him.

“Okay then, if anyone thinks of anything else, just bring it on Tuesday.” Rarity looked around the room. “And make sure you take all this food home. I don’t need it here at the bookstore.”

Chapter 6

Wednesday morning, when Rarity opened the bookstore, she found that Sam had left her a tray of cookies and a few pieces of coffee cake. She grabbed a sugar cookie as she made coffee. Darby had been right; the cookies were tasty. She thought about the pain Darby was going through and sent good wishes to her through the universe. It was something she and Sam had started during Rarity’s cancer treatments. Every morning, she’d send Sam good wishes, and she knew, in Arizona, Sam was doing the same for her. They’d started the ritual when Sam came up for her surgery, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stay through the full year of treatment. Sam had given Rarity a crystal and told her to hold it every morning to send out the wishes.

Rarity hadn’t been a big believer in positive messages or meditation before she’d been diagnosed, but the act of giving to someone else had given her strength. So many times, people at work or her Missouri friends would be so overwhelmed when the subject of her cancer had come up. It was like they expected her to die right there, in front of their eyes. Or worse, pass the cancer on to them like it was a bad luck charm. She hadn’t had time or energy to work at a soup kitchen or the immunity to read to children at the library, but she could send good wishes to her friend. And that was enough.

Today, she’d figure out what Darby needed and see if the book club could make her life a little easier during this time of sorrow. Of course, what Darby wanted was to find out who killed her grandmother and, if not get revenge, see a little justice being served. That was something the group might not be able to provide. Sedona had been having a string of break-ins lately. Robberies of empty houses that weren’t discovered until their owners came back from the summer house. Drew had been overwhelmed with reports since October of houses missing electronics and other easy-to-pawn items. Of course, they had no idea when the break-in had happened. Maybe Darby’s grandmother’s death was the result of a late-to-the-party robber. She’d probably surprised him, and that was when she was attacked. Rarity would reach out to Drew later and see what his theory was regarding the motivation.

As if she’d called him, Drew came into the bookstore holding a bag. He nodded to her, then checked the fireplace area for Killer. “Good morning, Rarity. How’s my good boy, Killer?”

Killer wagged his tail and ran up to greet him. Drew set the bag on the counter and picked up the little dog.

“Good morning, Drew. Were your ears burning? I guess I wasn’t talking about you, but I was thinking about calling you.” She picked up the bag. “Did your dad need a refund?”

---