The Unkindness of Ravens by M. Hilliard (readera ebook reader .txt) 📗

“That’ll be all for now, Ms. Hogan.” Her attention had gone back to attic. She was practically sniffing the air.

I was being dismissed.

I left Webber on her own. Not regulation, investigating on your own. She wasn’t the rules girl I pegged her for. We might have something in common after all. That could be useful. Maybe she’d find whoever had been listening to us in the attic, because I had no doubt someone was. Millicent was the most likely suspect, both yesterday and today. Based on timing and the direction the draft had come from, though, she was not a sure thing. Which meant that someone else was moving around undetected.

It was time to hunt down the manor floorplans.

Chapter Five

I considered my options while making my way back to the main floor. The police might be playing along with Anita’s accident story for now, but they were looking for a killer, and I was still on the suspect list. The person who finds the body usually is, especially if that person has found a body before. My movements after I’d left the library that night were easily traced, but I still didn’t know what time Joanna had died. My landlord might be able to vouch for what time I got home, but I didn’t know how much weight that would carry. Until the killer was found, I’d be in for some intense scrutiny.

During the interview process I had told Helene and the board that my husband had been killed during a burglary gone bad, and that’s what had prompted my career change and move. Any conversation that begins, “My husband was murdered, and then …” is awkward at best. I gave a brief, subdued recital of facts and the subject was dropped. Since being involved in two murders couldn’t be good for anyone’s career prospects, I wanted it to stay dropped. So, a two-pronged plan. Diversion and detection.

I found Mary Alice behind the Circulation desk, hip deep in returns and checking in books with practiced efficiency. Come murder, mayhem, hell or high water, the book drop must be emptied.

“Need a hand?” I asked.

“Sure. If you could get through that pile right there, and shelve the new books, it would be a big help. Helene told the pages not to come in today. I can’t blame her, but without them we have no one to shelve.”

Nearly all of the grunt work in our library was handled by the pages, mostly high school students starting out in the workforce. They shelved books, fetched things from the far reaches of the building, and tidied up before we closed. Most were regular library users since their story hour days. I could understand why Helene didn’t want them in the middle of the police investigation, but it did throw a lot of work back on the rest of the staff. On the other hand, it gave me a reason to be in places I usually wasn’t. And when they returned, it would be worth checking to see if they had noticed anything unusual in the days leading up to Joanna’s death.

“So, did the police have any more questions for you?” I asked Mary Alice.

“Sam ran me through the whole sequence of events yesterday, from your phone call to their arrival. He asked me about the previous day, too, but I couldn’t tell him much. We were swamped. All that sunshine. It’s been such a rainy spring, and it looks like we’re getting back to it. Anyway, I didn’t really have anything tangible to tell him.”

“Do you have something intangible in mind?”

“Well, it’s what I started to tell you yesterday. I’m usually here on the night the Friends meet, and they’ve been meeting more often the closer we get to the sale. In the last couple of months there’s been something strange in the whole dynamic. A kind of tension I’ve never seen before. Some odd pairs with their heads together before or after the meeting.”

“Who?

“Joanna and Felicity for one. That attorney who just joined—Julia something-or-other. The Barrett woman. Different combinations. Something’s off, but I just can’t put my finger on it. So, I couldn’t say anything to Sam. I don’t want the police to think I’m imagining things.”

Join the club.

Mary Alice sighed and shook her head.

“Did you learn anything from Jennie Webber?” she asked.

“She told me next to nothing. She’s cool, closemouthed, and seems to suspect the worst of everybody.”

“Well, I guess two tours in Iraq will do that to a person. Too bad. She was always such a nice, helpful little girl.” Anne Marie approached the desk and Mary Alice stepped away to speak to her. I continued to clear books. So, Jennie Webber had been a soldier. That explained a few things—the detached demeanor, the tendency to go from zero to red alert in the space of seconds. I still didn’t like her, and based on her response to me, the feeling was mutual. She had immediately cast me in the role of first murderer. I tried to picture her as a little girl, the blue eyes more trusting, the ash blond hair in pigtails, but I couldn’t get there.

Mary Alice reappeared and we continued to work. I would have liked to hear her theories on Joanna’s death, but other staff members were coming in and out of the reading room. I saw Webber and O’Donnell go by in the main hall at separate times, but couldn’t tell where they were headed. Everyone was buzzing about the investigation. Some discreet eavesdropping was in order. I finished checking the books in front of me and loaded the newer releases onto a cart. As I pushed it toward the stacks, Helene drifted over.

“Why don’t you let me do that, Greer? I feel like I’ve been at my desk for days.”

Foiled. I relinquished the cart. I considered asking Helene if she knew where I could find a comprehensive set of manor floorplans, but I couldn’t come up with