Due Or Die

CHAPTER 21

BRIAR CREEK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

Carrie popped out of the new shed and cried, “Kim! Kyle!” Then she broke into a run.

The driver shut off the car and got out, too. He was a tall young man with the same dark hair as his mother and his sister. In fact, the three of them had the exact same face, with big brown eyes, delicate noses and strong jaws.

Carrie opened her arms wide as she ran, and the three of them tumbled into a group hug in the middle of the parking lot. Lindsey turned away to give them some privacy.

“Her kids?” Beth asked as she joined Lindsey.

“I’m assuming.”

“Good. She could use the support.”

It was several minutes later when Carrie brought her grown children over to meet Lindsey and the others.

“Kyle, Kim, this is Lindsey Norris, the director of the library, and Beth Stanley you already know.”

“I remember the parties you used to throw for the teens every time a new Harry Potter book came out,” Kim said.

“And I remember that you did the best artwork for my programs,” Beth said and gave the girl a hug. “I still have some of those posters. How are you enjoying RISD?”

“I love it,” she said.

“Welcome to Briar Creek,” Kyle said to Lindsey and extended his hand.

Lindsey took his gloved hand in hers. He had a good handshake.

“Thank you. It’s a lovely town,” she said. She paused and then added, “I’m very sorry for your loss.” She turned to include Kim in her condolences.

“I’m sorry, too,” Beth said.

Both Kim and Kyle nodded, and Lindsey realized they probably weren’t used to talking about it. It had taken them a few days to get here. And now that they were in their hometown, it must be surreal to confront their father’s shooting.

Kim shivered and Carrie frowned, looking full of motherly concern.

“Listen,” she said. “I’m staying at Nancy Peyton’s place, and she said you two could stay with me. She has enough room so long as you two don’t mind bunk beds. Honestly, I haven’t been able to face going back to the house yet.”

Kyle put his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We’ll do it together, Mom, when you’re ready.”

Carrie blew out a breath. For the first time in days, she had some color in her cheeks. Having her children here was a real boon for her. Lindsey was glad. She shouldn’t have to bear all of this alone.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to go,” Owen Pullman said. “I have an appointment I have to keep.”

“No problem,” Mimi Seitler said. She joined their group and handed a hot chocolate to Kim and another to Kyle. “Finish this up for me, will you?”

They both said thank you, looking grateful for the hot beverage.

“We’re pretty much done,” Mimi said. “Can I dismiss the troops, Carrie?”

“Absolutely,” Carrie said. “And thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.” Mimi lifted the empty pot of chocolate and carried it to her car.

“If it’s okay, we’ll just finish up and lock up after we leave?” Carrie asked Owen. “We just have a few more boxes to move.”

Owen scratched his bald head. “I don’t see why not. Just latch the gate once you get all of your cars out of here.”

“We will,” Carrie said. “Okay, you two, head over to Nancy’s. Kyle, I might need your help running an inventory of the boxes. There should be a couple of boxes of rare books, but I haven’t had time to look for them.”

“I’ll be happy to help,” he said. “We can make a sweet Excel file that will allow you to tabulate the value of each item.”

Carrie raised her eyebrows. “Now that would be handy.” She gave her kids each a kiss on the cheek and said, “I’ll see you at Nancy’s.”

“Are you sure-” Kyle began, but Carrie cut him off.

“I’ll just be a few minutes. Go before you freeze.”

With one more hug, Kyle and Kim got into their car and headed over to Nancy’s house.

“I’m going to thank everyone for coming,” Carrie said. “Then we can lock up the new shed and I’ll give you and Beth a ride home.”

“Sounds good,” Lindsey said. “Good job, President.”

“Thanks.” Carrie smiled.

Lindsey watched as Carrie gathered them all together. The group seemed pleased with what they had done. Even Bill had pitched in, and his usually fastidious attire sported dust streaks. It made him seem infinitely less insufferable.

Lindsey wandered down to the old shed. It was essentially a steel room about ten feet high and twenty feet deep and fourteen wide. She glanced up to examine the ceiling. It had been blown wide open. Several sheds on either side had sustained some damage as well, but this one had gotten the worst of it.

When she had spoken to Owen earlier, he had theorized that the hurricane-force winds had found a loose metal panel and ripped it open, dragging the ones around it with it.

But Lindsey remembered what Sully had told her and she had to agree. This didn’t look nature-made.

“That storm was really something, wasn’t it?”

Lindsey turned to find Edmund Sint standing beside her, surveying the damage.

“It sure was,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I was when the lights came back on.”

“Yeah, I have to agree. Those were two of the longest days of my life.”

“I suppose we should be glad the damage wasn’t worse,” she said. “Then again, if the storm didn’t cause this…”

Edmund turned to study her. “You don’t think the storm did this? Really?”

“Someone mentioned to me that it could actually have been a break-in,” she said.

“For books?” he asked and then he laughed. “I love a good read as much as the next guy, but that’s extreme.”

He made a comical face and Lindsey had to laugh. He was right. Even if this had been done on purpose, surely the person hadn’t been trying to break into the Friends’ vault. No one even really knew what was in it. There was no inventory. Who would risk it in the middle of a storm, not knowing what they would be getting?

“You’re right,” she said. “That would be crazy.”

Heathcliff pranced up on his big feet, and Edmund squatted down and made a snowball for him. He threw it way out into the drifts and Heathcliff took off after it. As the only light available was coming from the large bank of lights Owen used for security, Lindsey marveled that the puppy could find the snowballs he chased after.

“Edmund, are you ready?” Bill called to his nephew.

He did not acknowledge Lindsey, letting her know he still considered her responsible for his removal from office.

She sighed. Edmund put his hand on her shoulder. “He’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“So long as he’s still a member of the Friends and is talking to Carrie, I’m fine,” she said. “I can handle a little misdirected anger.”

“That must be why you’re such a good librarian,” Edmund said. He looped her free hand around his elbow and led her back to Carrie. “All of those unhappy taxpayers blaming you when the book they want isn’t in must have given you a thick skin.”

Lindsey smiled. He certainly understood the life of a public servant. Carrie and Beth met them halfway to their cars.

“I’m just going to check the last few boxes,” Carrie said. “I want to make sure they’re sealed up tight.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lindsey offered.

“Me, too,” said Beth, cradling her own cup of cocoa.

“Thanks for your help, Edmund,” Carrie said. “You and Bill were great.”

A horn honked and they all glanced up to see Bill sitting in his car, glaring at them. Mimi and the other volunteers returned his glower, but Bill didn’t seem to notice.

Edmund sighed. “I’d better go.”

The three women waved and trooped down to the new shed. It was dark, but Carrie had brought a flashlight. The boxes were stacked floor to ceiling, with a narrow aisle running down the middle to give access to the books at the back.

“We’ll have to schedule a warm day in the spring to do that inventory,” Beth said. “It’s too cold in these sheds to do much in the winter.”

“Maybe we’ll get a nice day in the sixties soon,” Carrie said. “I’d really like to find those rare books that were donated. It seems a shame that no one remembers what boxes they were in.”

“Not even Bill?” Lindsey asked.

“No, he said he couldn’t recall,” Carrie said. “I didn’t press since it was nice of him to come out and help.”

Beth and Lindsey exchanged a look. Lindsey didn’t voice her doubt aloud, but she couldn’t help but feel that Bill probably wouldn’t have told Carrie even if he knew. She suspected he could be passive-aggressive like that.

“So, how about those open boxes?” Lindsey asked.

“Right here,” Carrie said. “Beth, will you hold the flashlight?”

She handed the flashlight to Beth, who aimed the beam at the top of the box. Lindsey held the lid closed while Carrie fumbled with the roll of box tape. She taped down the lid and they moved on to the next two, with Beth following them with the beam of light.

Once they were done, Carrie pocketed the tape and Beth handed back the flashlight.

“Okay, now where did I put the Master Lock?” Carrie asked as she shone the light across the floor and over the boxes. Lindsey and Beth began to look, too, but there was no sign of it.

“I must have left it on the latch outside,” Carrie said. She stepped forward toward the large steel door, but it slammed shut with a clang.

“Whoa, the wind must be picking up,” Beth said. “Let’s get going before we all freeze to death.”

Carrie turned the handle on the inside of the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She handed the flashlight back to Lindsey and said, “Could you shine that on the handle?”

Lindsey did and watched as Carrie struggled with the door. The handle would move just a fraction of an inch but wouldn’t open.

“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Beth said.

“Don’t panic,” Lindsey said. “Here, let me try. You’ve had your gloves off, Carrie; maybe your hands are just frozen.”

Carrie stepped back and took the flashlight while Lindsey put her muscle into turning the handle on the door. She couldn’t get it to unlatch either. She put her shoulder into it, but no luck. The door was stuck.

Lindsey turned to face the others. In the reflected beam of the flashlight, she could see they both looked wide-eyed and worried. She hated to confirm their fears, but there was no getting around it.

“We’re locked in,” she said.