Dewey Decimated, page 17
“I was at the preserve on Tuesday and happened to overhear them talking in a friendly manner.”
John made a scoffing sound. “You just happened to be there.”
“That’s right. Since I had the responsibility of voting on the future of the preserve, I felt I ought to go there and check it out.”
“Did you happen to hear what father and son were talking about?”
I ignored John’s sarcastic tone. I knew it bothered him when I managed to acquire information about an ongoing case he’d been investigating. And while he valued what I contributed, it was difficult for him to admit that an amateur’s assistance had played a major part in catching the killer and so he had trouble showing his appreciation.
“I got the definite impression they’d recently made up,” I said. “It seems Kevin left Lighthouse Builders where he’d been working because after his boss had Kevin do the condo presentation at the open council meeting, he later took Kevin off the project.”
“But the way I understood it, even if the council voted to build a condo community, it was far from a sure thing that Lighthouse Builders would get the job.”
“True,” I agreed, “but Al said Lighthouse Builders is smart when it comes to placing bids and they have a reputation for doing good work, so there was a good chance they’d get the job.”
“They’re not building condos in Clover Ridge any time soon, so it’s a moot point. Anything else I should know?”
“Sean said Kevin could take over his construction company, which surprised me,” I said.
John nodded. “Yeah, since Buzz Coleman was in the process of buying it. Did Sean seem upset when he left the meeting last night?”
“No. He seemed tired. Frail. Which I hadn’t noticed when he stopped by my office earlier in the day.”
“What about?”
“He came to tell me I’d be getting the number of seats I wanted for the new stadium-seating auditorium. There had been some last-minute problems.”
“Getting back to Babette, was she angry with the way the vote went last night?”
“She’d called me earlier in the day to urge me to vote for the park idea. She tried to give me the impression Sean was all for it, then admitted his vote was far from certain. I can’t see her killing Sean for not voting the way she wanted him to. I mean, I didn’t either.” I laughed. “Can you picture Babette cutting a brake line on a truck? I don’t think so.”
John pursed his lips and shook his head. “Why, Ms. Singleton, I believe that’s a sexist comment if I ever heard one.”
“I stand rightfully chastised,” I said meekly. “But I don’t think Babette would murder Sean over the vote. And neither would Reggie, for that matter. Even though …” I stopped.
“Even though?”
“Reggie was angry at Sean.” I told John what Reggie did after we voted. “But he didn’t have time to cut the brake line. Someone did that before the meeting and before the vote.”
“Or during the meeting,” John said.
“Babette arrived late to the meeting.”
“Interesting,” John said, as he made a notation in his notepad.
I suddenly remembered. “Something else. Al and I were the last to leave Town Hall last night. Sean was talking to someone. It was too far away to see who it was.”
“Did you get any sense of the person’s size? Age? Gender?”
I shook my head. “No. The other person was standing on the passenger side of the truck.”
“Did you catch any words of their conversation?”
“No. Sorry.”
John frowned. “Did you see the other person’s car? The color? The make?”
“Sorry. He or she must have parked on the far side of the truck.”
“Anything else you can tell me about Sean?”
“A few days ago he and Buzz had words with Rafael Torres, the architect, at the construction site. They blamed him for added expenses and delays.”
“Anyone else Sean had words with?”
“I don’t think so. His men all seemed to like him, and he and Buzz seemed to get along well, though Buzz must have been pretty angry when Sean told him he’d changed his mind about selling him his business.”
John ran me through the same set of questions again, something he always did, then finally left saying he and his wife, Sylvia, would see Dylan and me at the memorial ceremony for Alec.
“Anything new on that homicide?” I asked.
“Nothing. A real cold case if ever there was one. No physical evidence to be found, no money trail. Just the decedent’s fingerprints on that folded-up C-note. At least we discovered who the poor guy was, only I’m sorry he turned out to be Dylan’s uncle.”
“Did you ever meet Alec when he came to Clover Ridge?” I asked.
“Not that I remember.”
“Did you know Dylan’s parents?”
John’s expression turned wary. “I knew who they were, but Sylvia and I didn’t travel in their circles.”
“So you never went to their parties.”
“Nope. Never were invited.”
“You didn’t like them,” I said.
John pursed his lips. “I didn’t know them well enough to dislike them. They weren’t our kind of people—big investors, big spenders, until they got sloppy and started losing money.”
“Dylan’s not like them at all,” I said.
John grinned. “Not a bit, thank God.”
He left and I had the sudden urge to call my father. Jim Singleton, former thief and felon, now worked for the investigating company that Dylan and Mac owned, using his former skills to help catch big-time thieves.
He picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Caro. I was just thinking about you.”
“You were?” Hearing my father’s voice made my heart swell with love.
“Yep. In fact, I was about to call you yesterday when I got a lead on this case I’m working. It’s been keeping me busy ever since. What’s up?”
I sighed. “Someone I know was just murdered.”
“Oh, no! A friend? Someone at the library?”
“No. More of an acquaintance, I suppose, but I liked Sean Powell. His construction company is doing the renovations on the library extension. Sean was also a member of the town council. He was killed on his way home from our meeting last night.”
“Sorry about that. Knowing you, you intend to find out who killed him.”
“I do.”
“Be careful, Caro.” After a pause, he asked, “How’s Dylan?”
“Still shaken that the body the construction crew discovered turned out to be his uncle Alec. He’s arranged to have his remains cremated on Sunday. There will be a memorial ceremony afterward.”
“Yeah, he told me. Sorry Merry and I can’t be there for him.”
I experienced one of those twinges of jealousy I still occasionally got when I found out Dylan and Jim had talked, and mentally scolded myself for being petty. I was possessive of Jim, probably because he’d been absent from my life for so many of my growing-up years, and we’d only gotten close again this past year. I was truly happy that my fiancé and my father got along so well, and that Dylan, who had been so hurt and disappointed by his own parents, considered my father family.
“Dylan would have liked that,” I said.
My father sighed. “That’s one strange case. Did John ever find out what Alec Dunmore was doing in that abandoned building?”
“No.”
“Unfortunately, Dylan’s parents are gone and can’t shed any light on the situation. I’m afraid this may turn out to be one cold case that doesn’t get solved.”
“I know. How’s Merry?” I asked to change the subject. I would have loved to tell my father that Alec’s ghost was hanging around the library and not very helpful with his murder investigation because he was suffering from amnesia, but I couldn’t deal with his shocked reaction right now.
Jim chuckled. “She’s fine. In Chicago, checking the provenance of a few paintings a museum is considering buying.”
“And you miss her,” I teased.
“I sure do. Remember, we’re newlyweds.”
“How can I forget when I watched you both say ‘I do’ a month ago?”
Dylan and I had flown to Atlanta in late August to attend their small wedding, where we met Merry’s son and daughter and their families.
“Any news on another upcoming wedding?” my father asked meaningfully.
“Nothing to report.”
“Take your sweet time, my darling daughter. But not too much time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I arrived at work, the library was abuzz with the news of Sean’s murder. Patrons stopped me to express their shock over this latest calamity. One woman lowered her voice and asked if I thought the old curse on the building had spread to the library. I assured her that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t come up with a reason why anyone would want to see Sean Powell dead.
The noise level in the library was blessedly silent. No sounds of hammering or sawing or men’s booming voices came from the work area because, as Trish had informed me when I entered my office, Buzz had given the men the afternoon off in recognition of their boss’s demise.
“Sally’s fit to be tied, wondering if he plans to let them all attend the funeral and cause further delays.”
“When is the funeral?” I asked.
“Wednesday morning. The wake is Tuesday afternoon and evening.”
I went through my email, made a few calls, then left to check on the programs in progress. Evelyn joined me as I started downstairs to look in on a jewelry bead craft program and the movie in the meeting room.
“I heard the news about Sean Powell,” she said. “I’m sorry. I liked Sean. He was a good soul.”
“He was murdered right after our council meeting last night.”
“Do you think someone on the council had it in for him?”
I stared at her. “Of course not! Why would you think that?”
Evelyn shrugged. “My Robert sat on the town council for a few years. I know how contentious those meetings can get.”
“Well, last night’s meeting wasn’t contentious.”
“I thought you were scheduled to vote on the future of the Seabrook Preserve.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we did. I had no idea you were so well informed about town events,” I said.
“I try my best.”
We had reached the bottom level. Evelyn waited while I peered into the meeting room. The movie was running and the sound was fine. I closed the door.
“Interested parties had their say. Then we voted and it was decided to keep the preserve,” I told her. “There were no fireworks. No angry arguments. The vote was accepted.”
“Then who do you think killed Sean?” Evelyn asked
“I have no idea. But I’ll tell you this much—Alec saw Sean yesterday afternoon when he stopped by my office. He recognized him as one of the men who scammed him.”
“Really. Now that’s interesting.”
I nodded. “I thought so, but I have no way of moving forward on this. Not that it proves that Sean killed Alec. Which makes me wonder—where is Alec?”
“Upstairs in the attic room, reading.”
“He seems to have calmed down quite a bit.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Evelyn said. “I wonder why.”
* * *
Who murdered Sean? I asked myself when I was back in my office. Certainly not his son with whom he’d recently reconciled. Could Buzz have gotten angry enough to kill Sean because he’d changed his mind about selling him the company? I suddenly remembered that John hadn’t commented when I mentioned Sean’s decision to hand over his company to his son instead of selling it to Buzz. Could be Sean had never found the right time to tell Buzz about his change of plans.
Who had Sean been speaking to when Al and I left Town Hall? Such an odd time and place for a chat. Had the person situated himself or herself on the far side of the truck to intentionally avoid being seen? Not knowing the person’s gender or height meant I couldn’t exclude Babette and Reggie from the lineup. Though even if one of them had stayed behind to chat with Sean, it didn’t mean he or she had murdered him.
My thoughts spun around in circles, churning out more questions than answers. I told myself it was high time I buckled down to library business. Future programs and events required my attention.
I skimmed through the list of people wanting to present programs in the near future. They were varied and sundry—from proposed lectures on nutrition to talks about art history. Since I’d soon have more rooms available for more programs, I decided it was time to expand my horizons.
So much of what we offered was for our patrons’ enjoyment. Maybe it was time to include more programs that were helpful in a practical way. Discussions about aging, nutrition, travel, health, and financial assistance were a few areas to explore. Feeling a burst of excitement, I began researching what other libraries were offering their patrons along these lines.
I was reading about a program that offered conversation classes to immigrants who wished to improve their English language skills when someone knocked on my door.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door flung open and Julie Theron appeared, panting and red-faced as if she’d been running.
“Carrie, we need to talk.” She made a beeline for my assistants’ empty chair and plopped down.
“We do?”
She leaned forward, elbows on knees, and gazed into my eyes. “Yes, there’s been another murder, and the police are doing nothing to solve this one either. If we work together we’ll catch the—”
“Julie, Lieutenant Mathers is hard at work going after Sean Powell’s killer. He’s already interviewed me since I was at the council meeting with Sean last night.”
“Do you have any suspects in mind?” she demanded.
“Not really,” I admitted. But even if I did there was no way I’d mention it to this newshound for fear of hearing my suspicions broadcast on the evening news.
“Well, I’ve done some thinking and I’ve come up with a theory,” she said smugly.
“Is that so?”
She nodded. “I think the two murders are connected.”
I stared at Julie. “You’re saying the same person murdered Alec Dunmore and Sean Powell.”
She nodded. “I did some research. Dunmore and Powell were involved in a business deal that went sour.”
My heart began to pound. “How do you know?”
Julie giggled. “A little birdie told me.”
“A birdie?”
“All right. A man. An elderly gentleman who wasn’t there but has it on good authority.”
“What elderly man?” I was growing exasperated.
“Albert Whitehead, James’s cousin. It turns out that James met with Sean, Alec Dunmore, and a few others. Alec was in the process of buying the building next door to your library. Which might explain how his body ended up there.”
“Wow!” I exclaimed. This fitted in with what Alec remembered.
“You’re surprised,” Julie said, pleased with herself.
She had no idea what I was surprised about, and I meant to keep it that way. “Yeah, I’m surprised Albert failed to mention it to me when I spoke to him and his cousin Marcella.”
Julia shot me a look of pure glee. “Albert told me you’d paid them a visit. But he felt uncomfortable mentioning details of the possible sale since he’d never told Marcella that James had confided in him about the sale. James told Albert not to say a word to Marcella until the sale went through. And since it never did, Albert stayed mum. He didn’t want to hurt Marcella’s feelings and let her know she’d been left out.”
“I see.” Now I was reeling from the fact that Julie had managed to learn something very important that I’d missed because I’d never thought to speak to Marcella and Albert separately.
“So why do you need me to help solve these murders?” I asked, a bit ungraciously. “You seem to be doing pretty well on your own.”
Julie blew off my comment with a wave of her hand. “Are you kidding? You know everyone in Clover Ridge—Alec Dunmore was your fiancé’s uncle. You were on the town council with Sean Powell. His company is doing the renovations for the library’s new addition. You know people connected to the victims. You know Clover Ridge.”
I nodded, seeing the logic in her theory.
“So, are you in?” she demanded.
When I didn’t answer, she said, “Are you willing to admit that two heads are better than one when it comes to solving these homicides? You have the experience of working cases and I’ve got sources and access to all sorts of information.”
I nodded, acknowledging the logic of her argument.
“Great!”
Julie had taken my nod to mean I was agreeing to her proposal. But could I even consider it? She held up her hand for a high five. Reluctantly, I tapped my palm against hers.
“I’m in, but I have two conditions,” I heard myself say. “One, you never do anything rash that puts us in danger, and two, you never mention my name on TV or tell anyone we’re working on this together.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” Julie swung out of the chair and headed for the door. “Gotta go. I’ll be in touch.”
I’ve signed a pact with the devil! I stared at the closed door, wondering why I’d agreed to work with Julie to solve the two murders. Dylan would be upset. John would be angry and hurt because I was his friend and Julie was a thorn in his side.
But the truth was, I’d already made up my mind to investigate both murders. I’d never really considered that they might be connected. And Julie did have sources and resources. Much as I hated to admit it, I had to admire the way she’d wheedled information out of Albert that he hadn’t shared with me. Well, she is an investigative reporter, I reminded myself as I settled back down to work.
“Finally! I thought that woman would never leave.”
I glanced up as Alec materialized. “Hello, Alec. And how are you today?”
“Fine. Or as fine as I can be, given the circumstances.” He seemed to have something on his mind, something he was having difficulty expressing.
