Page 47 of Secrets in the Stacks

When she didn’t find anything other than the footprints, she went back to work. Only after her ten names were brainstormed and emails were sent did she allow herself to think about what could have happened. She called Drew, just in case he thought the prowler had been Lloyd Jones.

She dialed his cell, and when he picked up, she swore. She could hear the sounds of a restaurant behind him. “Sorry, Drew, I can call back.”

“No worries. Sam just ran to the restroom. We’re doing brunch at the hotel here on Main. It’s really good. You should come with us sometime.”

“Okay. I don’t want you to come over and make a big thing of this. I just wanted someone besides Terrance and me to know.” Rarity groaned inwardly. She knew Drew was going to make a big deal out of it. And Sam was going to kill her.

The noise from the restaurant subsided, and Rarity realized Drew must have gone outside to take her call. “What am I not supposed to make a big deal out of, Rarity?”

“Terrance thought he saw someone around the house trying to get in the back gate. But as you know, I’ve locked that now, so he couldn’t just walk through. There isn’t anything gone, and his footprints have mostly blown away in the sand. So like I said, there’s no reason—”

“For me to come to the house right now. Okay, I get it. But I’m stopping by later after I drop Sam off. I really like Terrance, but it worries me that a man in his late sixties is your main source of protection. Besides, maybe I can find something that might tell us who was skulking around your house last night. I am an actual trained law enforcement officer.” He paused. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Drew.” Rarity could feel the relief in her voice. “I just don’t want to interfere with your date.”

“You’re welcome. But you know you had to tell me. I would have found out anyway because you’d tell Sam and she’d tell me. Got to love small-town life.” He chuckled. “Besides, you’re not interfering. It’s kind of my job, remember?”

“Thanks again. Tell Sam hi.” She hung up the phone and went back to her Sunday project. She already had a few response emails to read from when she’d sent out the Thursday night class experts invites. She’d have to think of a name, but she liked the ring of class rather than event.

When she opened the last one, she realized it was from the publisher she’d asked about Cheryl Jackson. After she read it, she sat back and looked at Killer. “Catherine Doyle is Cheryl Jackson. I can’t believe it. She was there all along under my nose. I wonder if Darby has a clue?”

Killer barked and went to the back door to wait. Apparently, he wasn’t as interested in her findings. She went and let him out and then called Darby. When she got voice mail, she hung up. This wasn’t the type of message you just left. She’d tell her tomorrow.

She finished her planning time with updating her calendar and wrote up the idea for her marketing file. When Drew arrived, she had put away work, had soup on the stove, and was curled up on the couch with Killer and a book.

“Smells amazing in here,” he said as he came inside. “Have you been cooking all day?”

“No, just making some soup for lunch and to freeze for later. How was brunch?” She shut the door and followed him into the kitchen, where he stirred her hamburger stew.

“Good. I have to admit, my favorite part is the omelet bar, so I could just go to the diner, but I love their coffee. And it’s an easy date.” He nodded to the pot. “Mind if I taste?”

“Not at all. I’ve made this recipe for years. My favorite is potato soup, but it doesn’t freeze as well as this does.” She grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and handed it to him.

He took a bite and nodded. “Very good. You’ll have to give me the recipe. Now that Mom and Dad have moved out, I cook more. Well, except now because Dad’s back. I’m not quite sure why he’s still here. A lot of the estate work could have been done online.”

“Maybe he missed you.”

Drew laughed and put the spoon in the sink. “Or maybe Mom’s driving him crazy. I think the secret to their long marriage is they spend a lot of time apart doing their own things. I’m not sure it’s a model I want to follow when I finally settle down.”

“Oh, are you ring shopping yet?” Rarity turned away and opened the fridge. She handed him a soda.

He took it and shuddered for her enjoyment. “Stop teasing me. Sam and I haven’t been dating that long. It feels right, but proposing? I’m not there yet.”

“Just checking.” She opened her soda can and took a drink. “So do you want to see the back gate?”

“I stopped and talked to Terrance already, and he showed me where he saw the guy. I’m wondering if this might just be some kid trying to check out your pool. You need a better security light on that gate and maybe a camera.” He sat down at the table, and she joined him.

“I’ve got homeowners insurance if someone breaks in. I have an alarm from the security company that you recommended on the house. And I have Terrance watching on what appears to be a twenty-four seven rotation. Are we sure he’s not a robot?” She moved the stack of journals away from where she was sitting. She’d hate to accidentally spill anything on them. “Anyway, if I do anything else, securitywise, I might as well move to one of those high-rise apartments where there’s a doorman that keeps everyone out. I don’t want to live in a bubble.”

“Okay, you’re right. You probably have as much or more security in place than most of our residents. I just worry about you living here alone.” He picked up a journal. “Anything interesting in these?”

“One, I’m not alone. I have Killer.” She pointed to the little dog who was asleep on the couch, a stuffed bear beside him. “And two, yes, Catherine Doyle was an interesting person. And an amazing writer. These journals feel like she’s telling a story, not just random thoughts.”

“I meant anything I could use to charge a suspect. Maybe a piece where she says ‘I think George Cabot is out to kill me since I made him tear down his hedge on my property.’” Drew looked hopeful.

“Actually, that was what we’d started looking for in the beginning. I thought maybe that was what Lloyd broke into the house to retrieve. Before I found out it was Lloyd and he was looking for her notes on an old story. Frankly, from her journal entries, I could see her being a journalist. It’s too bad she gave it up.”

“She wrote the church newsletter, and a few for various community organizations,” Drew reminded her. “She didn’t totally give writing up.”

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