Page 42 of Secrets in the Stacks

“I need help.”

She looked up, and Drew was standing in front of her, smiling. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you were a customer. And this stupid newsletter program doesn’t want to save. I’ve got too much time invested to lose all of it.”

He motioned for her to spin the laptop around so he could see the screen. He tapped a few keys, then turned it back to her. “There. All saved. You had a spellcheck that was waiting for you to answer the question, so it wouldn’t shut down.”

“Thanks.” She shut the laptop. “Are you here about what happened last night?”

He leaned on the counter and set down a folder. He opened it and turned it around so she could see the photo right side up. “Kind of. More like a follow-up to a prior event. Do you know this man?”

She looked down at the folder and gasped. It was the red haired guy who’d been in the bookstore. The one who saved her from having to talk to Charity Lions. “Yes. That’s Nick. He’s the guy I told you about. The one who freaked me out when he was here. He was asking about staffing, and I thought he was casing the joint to see when it would be easiest to rob.”

Drew laughed as he turned the folder back around. “Casing the joint? I think you’re watching too many of those old crime movies with Archer. Anyway, Nick’s an investigative reporter. His real name is Lloyd Jones. He’s a journalist who does freelance work for several different crime and news magazines. I bet he knew exactly who Charity Lions was and what she was looking for from you.”

“So he was Charity’s rival, and that’s why he shut her down.” Rarity nodded. “That makes sense. He was getting off on preventing her from talking to me. I could tell it felt like a game to him.”

“He loves getting the story before the television news. He’s even told people he tries to block video journalists from sources.” Drew nodded as he put the picture away.

“So you’re telling me he’s not a suspect.” Rarity plopped back onto the stool behind the counter. “I’m so tired of seeing a possible solution to the problem and having it jerked away from me.”

“Actually, that’s not what I’m saying. And I’m glad we didn’t do fingerprints last night.”

“I’m getting a headache. What are you saying? Or actually, what are you not saying?” Rarity rubbed her forehead.

“The lab found Mr. Jones’s fingerprints in Catherine Doyle’s study. And since we’d fingerprinted when she was killed and then again after the break-in, we have a time frame of when he was in the house.”

Rarity held her breath. Finally, she asked the question. “Do you think he killed Catherine?”

“No, unless he was really smart and wore gloves then but not so smart when he broke into the house a second time. That doesn’t make sense. But I think he might just have some information on why Catherine died. A journalist of this caliber doesn’t just investigate the murder of a small-town housewife.” Drew glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. He’s arriving in Flagstaff via American Airlines in three hours. I’m coordinating his welcome party.”

“So you’ll tell me what he was looking for?” Rarity called after him.

Drew turned around at the door. “Or you could just wait for my father to leak the information.”

“Not fair. He was worried about Darby,” Rarity responded.

Drew nodded. “Okay, then, I was right. He did tell you about my interest in Darby’s fight with her grandmother. Thanks for confirming that. I’m going to have a long chat with Dad about confidentiality if he wants to continue to use my house as a hotel.”

“Drew, don’t be mad at him.” Rarity was kicking herself for letting the secret slip.

He shrugged as he answered, “Rarity, I’ve known my father all my life, and he only does what he thinks is right. I know he thought he was doing the right thing, but he needs to respect my boundaries and my office. Anyway, I’ll call you after I talk to Mr. Jones. Maybe we can cross off one of these unanswered questions in the Doyle case.”

Rarity waited for a few minutes after Drew left, then she reopened her laptop. She should finish her newsletter, and she would, but right now, she was researching all she could find out about Lloyd Jones.

* * * *

Rarity had finished her research on Lloyd Jones and her monthly newsletter when the phone rang about noon. “The Next Chapter. This is Rarity. How may I help you?”

“You need to change your greeting to something book related. Maybe like ‘What story can I help you find today?’” Sam offered a suggestion.

“Thanks, I’ll work on it. What’s going on?” She checked her to-do list as they were talking. She still needed to call Mrs. Evans about Cheryl Jackson. Or maybe she should stop by. But would she be at the church or their home? Maybe Sam would know more gossip she could use.

“Drew called and canceled lunch on me today. Said he had a pressing engagement. Do you have lunch plans?”

“No, and I could use a few minutes out of the shop.” She glanced over at Killer. She didn’t like leaving him alone in the store, but she thought she would try today. Hopefully he wouldn’t take up chewing on books on the bottom row of the shelves. “Are you ready now?”

“I’ll lock up and meet you outside.”

Rarity went to the back and made sure that door was locked. Then she refilled Killer’s water dish. He’d just been outside, so he should be fine, but she laid out a puppy pad near the water dish, just in case. Then she gave him a kiss and told him to be good while she was gone.

---