Page 57 of Secrets in the Stacks

“It worked. I fell running once at a park, and someone had their dog bag close by. They taped it to my leg until I could get to the hospital for some stitches. You use what you have.” Rarity finished her granola bar and clicked Killer’s leash onto his collar. “He’s just embarrassed.”

“You’re right about that. I’ve got to go. That’s Sam at the door.” He clicked off, and Rarity tucked her phone into her pants pocket. She leaned down and rubbed Killer’s ears. “Jonathon says thanks for letting him use your supplies.”

Killer let out a quick bark, and they left the house for work.

Rarity always thought about how lucky she was to own the bookstore and be able to bring Killer with her to work. The corporation she’d worked at before joked about Bring Your Dog to Work Day, but they’d never allow it. It wasn’t policy.

Darby was at school today, so it would just be her and Killer at the bookstore. She put together a get-well gift for Jonathon, replacing the books he’d lost when he was attacked. She’d stop by Drew’s on the way home and drop them off. She did a few other housekeeping things like ordering books for next month’s book club choice and researching a list of books for January’s Thursday night class. She’d decided to schedule the yoga studio owner first since it was the month for resolutions. She sent her a list of the possible books to have available, then she was done.

Emails were cleaned out. Marketing done. The new books hadn’t come in, and Darby would want to do that tomorrow. Her stomach growled, and she realized she still had her juice and granola bar in Killer’s bag.

Digging in, she found the juice, but the bar had slipped to the bottom of the bag. She started taking things out and found the journals she’d set aside last night thinking they were the investigation notes Lloyd had asked about earlier. The story Catherine had been working on that she’d thought had gotten her husband killed.

She found the granola bar, then tucked everything back into the bag except the two journals. They were the same type of journal, red cover, same brand. And from the dates Catherine had put on the inside cover, she could guess that she had the first and second ones. She tucked the second one back into the bag and got out her notebook. Then she started making a timeline from the journal.

It didn’t take her long to realize she was missing at least one journal before this. Catherine referenced pages in book one when she talked about incidents. Lloyd was right. The story was right here, waiting to be told. And from what Rarity could see, it would have been a doozy. Catherine was convinced that the pesticide the local company was getting ready to produce was toxic to humans. And from the notes, she had anecdotal information to prove it.

Rarity opened her laptop and went to the Agricultural Norms website. It took a while, but she found the product page. The pesticide name, AGN9, wasn’t listed as a product. In fact, from what she could see, the company didn’t produce any pesticides currently. They were a seed company.

That didn’t make any sense. Maybe there was someone she could talk to about this AGN9 at the company. Darby had been assigned to look into the company, but that was before last night’s incident. Rarity needed to know what was going on. She called the contact number and explained that she was doing some research into the history of seed production and wondered if there was anyone available to talk to. The cheerful receptionist transferred her to someone in customer service.

An equally cheerful and young-sounding woman answered the phone. “It’s a great morning at Agricultural Norms. This is Charity. How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m doing a research paper for my grad degree on the development of agricultural products over the years. Agricultural Norms has been around a long time. Did they always focus on seed production?” Rarity hoped her “cover” would hold since she knew little about the history of agriculture in the United States. Maybe she could twist in the cancer concern issue. That, she could talk about.

“Yes, our founder, Walter Morris, opened a seed company in Boone, Iowa, in 1910. And we’ve been going and growing ever since. We moved to Des Moines in 1960, and our company grew to be one of the nation’s largest seed manufacturers. We are still one of the top ten.” Charity spouted off company lore well.

“Did the company ever look at pesticide development? I know there’s been some connection with pesticides and the increase of cancer cases over the years. I’m trying to find a company that stopped developing pesticides due to the possible side effects.” Rarity groaned inside. That had been a little too on point. Maybe she should have thought about this more. Developed some questions to lure the information out?

“Actually, no, we’ve never been involved in pesticide research or manufacturing. I can send you some research materials for your report. Can I get an email?”

Rarity tried to dodge the question. “That would be great, but I’m not sure your company fits my research area. I had read something about a product I don’t see on your website, an AGN9? Do you have anything on that?”

Rarity could hear the keys clacking on the other side of the line. “It’s not one I’m familiar with. Let me see what comes up when I do a search.”

Rarity held her breath. Maybe they were getting somewhere.

“Oh, well, that’s interesting. AGN9 was a research project that ended about twenty years ago. All the computer says is that it was terminated and the date.” Charity listed off the date. “Of course, I can’t deny or confirm that the project involved pesticides. Our materials clearly state we aren’t involved in that type of research. I’d be happy to send you the material if you can give me an email.”

“Actually, I’m thinking it’s a dead end.” Rarity wrote down the date of the termination of the project in her notebook. It was the same year the missing person article was published. She started to end the conversation, then thought better of it. “Hey, do you have a list of the people who ran the company from Mr. Morris on?”

Charity rattled off a page on the website. “All of our leadership team is listed there with their promotion and retirement dates. We have a strong company culture of hiring from within.”

After she’d said goodbye to the chatty Charity, Rarity pulled up the website. Taft was listed, and his “retirement” date was a month after the article date. Whatever AGN9 was, it must have been his pet project, because when it was terminated, so was he.

She had just tucked away the first notebook and was about to grab the second when Lloyd Jones came into her shop. She closed the notebook and tucked it under her counter. “Good morning, Lloyd. Can I help you with a book purchase?”

“Actually, I came in to see if Darby was here. I heard a rumor that someone stole Catherine’s journals last night. I wanted to make sure she was okay.” He leaned on the counter.

“She’s fine. Busy, of course, but fine. She wasn’t involved in the robbery.” Rarity wanted the man out of her shop. If he’d stolen the journals, he probably knew by now that he didn’t have the ones he wanted. “How did you hear about it anyway?”

“Annie’s isn’t just a great place for coffee. You’d be surprised what people talk about in line or over a Danish. Look, I’m not your enemy. I know you see me that way, and it’s probably my fault. I should have just talked to Darby up front and asked her to look at her grandmother’s journals. It’s a bad trait for journalists. We’re always afraid someone is going to scoop our story.” He held up his hands. “I don’t know if you have heard, but I have a rock-solid alibi for the night Catherine was killed. I was at a journalist event and gave the keynote. I didn’t come into town until after I heard of Catherine’s passing. Anyway, I’m heading out tomorrow and just wanted to let Darby know if she needs something or wants to talk about her grandmother, I could fill in some stories. Catherine was an amazing woman.”

“I’ve heard that from a lot of people.” Rarity wasn’t sure what to think. Was Lloyd really just giving up now that the journals were gone? “I’ll call her and give her your message. Where are you staying?”

He handed her a card. “That’s my cell. I’m at the Holiday Inn & Suites outside of town. I’ll buy her dinner if she’s willing to meet me. I just want her to know that her grandmother was more than just a housewife. She could have been something big. She was that good.”

After Lloyd left, Rarity called Darby. “Hey, did I catch you between classes?”

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