Page 50 of Secrets in the Stacks

He nodded. “Are we sure it’s not plotting for her novels? Maybe that’s what these journals are—rough, rough first drafts.”

“Maybe. I’ll check with the group tomorrow and see if anyone else noticed this. You could be right. She might have just been using the journal to block out what would happen in the book.” She set the journal on the table. “I’ve got one more to finish reading. Are you done watching television? Sorry to run you off, but I read better without someone watching me.”

Archer kissed her, then stood and walked to the door. “I like that you’d rather be alone than have me stare at you. You know what you want, and you tell me. Do you know how rare honest communication is with couples? Especially at the beginning of the relationship.”

After saying good night, she got another cup of tea and curled back up on the couch. This journal was a little different than the others. It felt more like an outline with lists of articles and dates, with clips of sentences copied what appeared to be word for word. She was about halfway through the journal when she realized she might be reading the material that Lloyd had broken in to find. She went back to the beginning and scanned through the pages. It was a research notebook on an Iowa agricultural company and what Catherine had seen as their bad deeds.

She opened her laptop and scrolled through the company’s website. The CEO had changed from Catherine’s list as well as most of the leadership. Was that just because of attrition? Or had Catherine found something that the company had fired people over?

Killer nudged her. He’d been sleeping next to her on the couch. She set the notebook down and focused on him. “Do you need to go outside?”

He jumped down to run to the door.

That was a clear answer. As she waited for him to bark to be let back inside, she took her teacup to the kitchen. The clock on the stove told her it was way too late for another cup, and she needed to crash. Tuesdays were long days with the book club running until nine. Tomorrow she’d take Killer with her, along with the few journals that were still in her house. She had a feeling this wasn’t done. Not yet.

* * * *

That next morning, she felt jittery after drinking an extra cup of coffee at home, hoping to make up for the lack of sleep. She didn’t think the caffeine was working. It was her turn to provide treats, so she ordered a cookie tray from Annie’s bakery and emailed Sam to pick it up before she arrived at the bookstore for the meeting.

She was meeting Archer for lunch since Darby worked Tuesday afternoons through the book club. Then Rarity would be on her own again until Friday afternoon when Darby worked again. She’d increase her hours, but she had classes and homework, so Rarity was on her own. And she didn’t have the work for a second employee.

Sam came into the store just after nine with two large to-go cups and a box. “Hey, neighbor, I haven’t seen you in forever, so I thought I’d have a quick breakfast to catch up before our meeting tonight.”

Rarity eyed the cup and weighed the effect of even more caffeine. Then she took it anyway. “What’s in the box?”

“Apple fritters. Annie had just put them out on the rack.” Sam pulled out napkins, then set golden fritters on both. “I couldn’t pass them up.”

“Maybe the sugar will counteract some of the caffeine.” Rarity picked up one and took a large bite. “Heaven. I’m glad I’m doing lunch with Archer. Maybe some real food will keep me from dropping into a sugar coma by the time the book club starts.”

“Speaking of our club, Drew said you moved the journals to his house? Did someone really try to break into your place?” Sam pulled up a stool and dug into her fritter. “No wonder you’re not sleeping. I wouldn’t either.”

“Actually, I’m on a coffee binge because I stayed up late with this last journal of Catherine’s. I think it’s the material Lloyd’s looking for from her house.” Rarity had dropped her voice, even though there was no one in the shop yet. “I think we need to compare notes tonight and see if anyone else found something like that. Maybe that would be enough to charge Lloyd with her murder.”

“Um, doesn’t he have an alibi?” Sam squirmed on the stool. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Drew’s added Darby’s parents to the suspect list, and I think they’re on the top.”

“Archer already ratted him out. Besides, it can’t be them. Why would they show up for the funeral if they killed her?” Rarity had hoped that the obvious would have moved Darby’s parents off the list by now.

Sam held up her hands, then realized there was sugar coating on her fingers. She licked one of them before talking. “They didn’t actually come to the funeral, remember. They left.”

“They were at the funeral, just not at the wake. And they left after Darby talked about the break-in. I think they were afraid of running into Lloyd. All roads lead to him. He’s admitted to breaking into Darby’s house the night I was there.” Rarity brought the focus back to Lloyd. “Maybe he hired someone to kill Catherine, and when the hit man didn’t get the material he needed, he came to town to find it himself.”

“Now that’s a line of thought that might work for motivation,” a man’s voice said from the doorway.

Rarity and Sam turned and saw Lloyd coming into the bookstore.

He stopped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I come in peace. And I didn’t kill Catherine—or have her killed.” He held his hands up. “Okay if I come in to talk?”

Rarity nodded. Drew had already talked to and ruled Lloyd out. But if she could get him to say he was the one trying to get into her house the other day, maybe Drew would have another look at his alibi. “I guess so. As long as you promise not to murder us.”

“Now, what kind of killer would I be if I let a little promise get in the way of my assignment. But rest assured, I’m not here to slaughter you. I just wanted to check in and see if you’d found anything about my notes.” He leaned on the counter and looked into the empty bag. “I haven’t tried that place. Any good?”

“It’s amazing. You should definitely get coffee and donuts there.” Sam bubbled, then stopped herself from saying anything else.

“Sorry, Lloyd, I didn’t find anything about your notes. And besides, I only have your word that you were working with Catherine on this story you talked about. Maybe you just want to steal her work,” Rarity pointed out.

“Look, you have reason to doubt me. I was that kind of guy before. I disappeared on Catherine when Tom died. Yes, I knew about his death. I was scared, which was the whole point from the bad guys’ side. They wanted to scare us off. But I’m not scared anymore. I owe this to her.” He tapped the counter near the Annie’s bag. “But I can see you’re not convinced—yet. So I’m just going to go get me some coffee and a few of those donuts. The smell is killing me right now.”

Sam didn’t say anything until Lloyd had left the shop. Then she turned to Rarity. “He sounds sincere.”

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