Page 32 of Secrets in the Stacks

Rarity wondered if she was trying to get it over with fast, or if she really thought Carson might be able to give her some answers.

“Okay, I’ll shuffle the cards. Remember, call her name three times, then ask your question.” Carson patted Darby’s arm. “You’ll be fine.”

Rarity thought Darby looked a lot less than fine, but if she was going to do this, it was better with this group than all alone. The last time she’d gotten a message from the cards, she’d interpreted it badly and went screaming into the night. Well, kind of.

“Catherine Doyle. Catherine Doyle. Catherine Doyle,” Darby repeated, then she looked around at the group. “Grandma, can you tell us why you were murdered?”

Rarity was surprised at the question. She’d thought the obvious question was who had killed her, but this made sense too. If they found out why, it should lead to a who. And if she only had one question, this was probably the better one.

Carson snuck a peek at Darby, then set the cards down. “Cut the deck, please.”

Darby did, and Carson laid out the cards. As Rarity watched, she was pleased to not see the Death card that had scared Darby during the festival. The others, she didn’t know, but she didn’t study tarot, not like some of the others in the room.

Sam drew in a sharp breath. Apparently, she saw something in the spread that Rarity didn’t see or understand the meaning of.

Carson started explaining the spread. Rarity watched Darby’s face as Carson ran through the meanings of the cards.

When she finished, Darby looked at her. “Tell me the answer to my question, at least as you see it.”

“Your answer is in the house. Or the home you built with your grandmother. It has to do with the past. Something happened that disrupted her life years ago.” She pointed to the Tower card with the lightning. “Something big changed her entire life. If I was looking for a reason, that’s where I’d start. Something from the past must have caught up with her.”

“My grandmother was a homemaker. She did charity work. She wasn’t a spy or anything like that. Why are you saying these things?” Tears filled Darby’s eyes as she looked around the room at the rest of the book club.

Carson sighed and waved her hand over the cards. “All I can do is read the cards. I didn’t choose them. If I were to guess, I think your grandmother must have had a journal. Find her journal and you might find your answers.”

Darby stared at the Tower card as the tears fell from her eyes. “A journal?”

“That’s my guess.” Carson rubbed Darby’s arm. “Sometimes the answers aren’t clear or easy to ferret out.”

The room went quiet for a minute but when no one else said anything, Rarity decided to step in as the book club leader, of sorts.

“Well, thank you for coming tonight, Carson. If no one else has any questions, we’ll take a short break and then get back to our to-do list for the week.” Rarity set Killer down. He ran over to Carson and put his front paws on her legs. When she picked him up, he licked her face a couple times, then he left the fortune teller and moved over to cuddle on Darby’s lap, sensing her discomfort.

Rarity watched Killer’s movement and, not for the first time, was amazed at his ability to understand the feelings a person was having and to do the exact right thing for it.

Carson put away her cards and carefully folded her table covering. She leaned over and hugged Darby and then stood. Holly followed her out of the bookstore.

Rarity stood and went to get more coffee.

“Weird night, huh?” Sam stood next to her. “Carson’s reading, it was wild.”

“If you believe in that. It could have been just a good con. Maybe Catherine didn’t even keep a journal. Now we’re looking for an even different type of book.” Rarity sipped her coffee and watched Darby as she sat on the couch, petting Killer.

“Catherine kept journals. I found one the day we were doing the inventory. Darby asked us to set them aside, so we put them on the desk. I’m surprised you didn’t see them.” Sam picked up a cookie and looked at Darby. “Now we just need to read all of them. The last time I saw the pile, there were at least twenty of them.”

The group was sitting back down now to finish the evening. Rarity glanced at her watch. They only had thirty minutes or so. Time to make some assignments.

* * * *

Darby came into the bookstore the next day with two bags of books. Rarity paused in the middle of stocking. “Don’t tell me that’s all the journals.”

“No, it’s not all of them. I have three more bags in the car, and I kept a bag too. These are just the ones for you and Sam. It doesn’t look like she’s got the shop open yet, so I thought I’d bring them in so I don’t forget to give them to her later.” She put both bags on top of the counter. “I have to say, I wish my grandmother had embraced the idea of a digital journal. It would be easier to search at least.”

Rarity walked over and pulled out a red leather journal. There were several matching and more that didn’t match. “I don’t know, there’s something to putting your thoughts down on real paper. With pen and ink.”

Darby sighed. “You sound like her. I bought her a new journal last Christmas, and she was just so happy. She said it was the best way to download all the stories in her head.”

“That sounds like what a writer would say. Did she enjoy writing stories? Maybe there is a novel on her hard drive.” Rarity opened the journal and started reading the first page. The words were rhythmic and lyrical and really had her set in the time and place. She’d been writing about her greenhouse and the trouble she’d had keeping things alive in the hot desert heat. Not like back home.

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