“Right.” Wally nodded. “When did you realize these weren’t library books?”
Skye guessed these were the stolen books, but she couldn’t tell what Wally was thinking.
“I didn’t have a chance to go through the returns until this afternoon,” Judy said. “I’m on my own on Sunday, and my part-timer doesn’t come in until one on Monday. But as soon as I saw them, I knew.” She pointed to a small volume on top of the pile. “This is a first edition of The Velveteen Rabbit.” Her finger hovered over the cover. “Usually if there are books that aren’t ours, I assume they are donations for the yearly used book sale the Friends put on, but this book is so rare, I knew . . .” She trailed off.
“What did you know?” Skye asked. Why was Judy taking so long to get to the point?
“My first thought was to return it to the owner. Then I saw the other titles”—Judy’s voice held a note of excitement—“and figured that they must be the rare books stolen from Tales and Treats this past weekend.”
“Let’s see.” Wally flipped a page in his notepad and without touching the books compared them to what he had written there. “Yep, these are the ones.” He made a checkmark next to each item on the list. “They’re all here.”
“Which makes you wonder.” Skye tapped her chin. “Why bother to steal a bunch of valuable books, then dump them in the library return bin within twelve hours of taking them? It’s not as if the thief had a chance to find out he couldn’t sell the books.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Judy gave her a beaming smile. “Our usual donations are worn-out paperbacks, encyclopedias, and Reader’s Digest condensed sets.”
“So you don’t think our thief was altruistic?” Skye’s lips curled upward.
“I seriously doubt they were meant as a donation.” Judy grinned back.
“Did you touch the books?” Wally asked.
“No.” Judy shook her head. “I pushed the sack down, and the top book tipped me off.”
“How did you hear about them?” Wally frowned. “I left orders that the details be kept quiet. The list was only to go to other dealers.”
“Oh.” Judy’s cheeks turned red, and she studied her pink ballet flats. “I’d rather not say.”
Skye put her hand on the other woman’s arm. “You’re dating Anthony, aren’t you?” She figured pillow talk was responsible for the leak.
“Yes,” Judy whispered. “But it’s not his fault. I saw his notebook and kind of . . . uh . . . took a peek. I was curious about the new bookstore.” She glanced quickly at Skye, then away. “I was a little afraid that people would sell Risé and Orlando their used books instead of donating to our sale. Or that our readers would buy from them rather than borrowing from us.”
“And if your circulation goes down, so does your budget,” Skye guessed.
Judy nodded. “I just wanted to see what kind of books they were interested in.”
“Anthony shouldn’t have left his notes lying around.” Wally scowled.
“True,” Skye agreed. “And I’m sure if you explain that to him, he won’t do it again.”
“Maybe.” Wally’s frown didn’t lessen. “But I should suspend him.”
“No!” Judy cried. “He’s such a sweet guy, and it was my fault.”
“Besides”—Skye shot Wally a pleading look—“his goof actually ended up being helpful.”
“Well . . .” Wally hesitated.
“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Skye cajoled. “Even a police officer.”
“Okay.” Wally stared sternly at Judy. “But no more snooping.”
“Cross my heart,” the librarian promised, making an emphatic X on her chest.
“Good.” Wally ended the matter. “You both stay here while I run next door and get Martinez.”
The two women made small talk until Wally returned with the officer and an evidence collection kit. He put on rubber gloves, inserted the paper sack along with the books into a plastic bag, then tied it off. After sticking a signed evidence tag on the outside, he handed it to Zelda and instructed her to take it to the county crime lab for testing.
After saying good-bye to Judy, Wally and Skye headed toward the parking lot. When they reached her car, she said, “I suppose you have to go back to the station. With this new lead and all, you probably have to work.”
“There’s nothing to work on until we get the lab results.” Wally brushed a curl out of her eyes. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Actually, I had a surprise planned.” Skye took his hand and kissed the palm. “For being such a good sport about the annulment.”
“I’m glad to get it if it makes you happy.” Wally traced her lips with his fingertip, then trailed it down her neck. “You know I’d do anything for you.” He grinned. “But a surprise sounds nice.”
“Good.” Skye opened the door of the Bel Air. “Get in and leave everything to me.”
“Lead on.” He unbuckled his utility belt and took off his tie, throwing both in the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat. “You’re full of surprises lately, but I’m ready for anything you got.”
Skye smiled mysteriously, jumped into the car, and started the engine. She refused to answer his questions as she drove, but when he guessed correctly, she finally admitted they were going to the Scumble River Recreation Club. It had been such a mild fall, the board had decided to leave the club open for the month of September. It was usually closed after Labor Day to everyone but hunters and people wanting to go sledding.
Skye tuned the radio to 94.7 FM, her favorite oldies station. She would always be a country music fan, but lately she had been in the mood for something different, and WLS played the best variety.
Although when “Right Back Where We Started From” poured out of the speakers, the irony wasn’t lost on her. Judy’s news had put them back to square one in the investigation. Skye opened her mouth to comment but stopped herself. She knew she couldn’t resist talking about the case for long, but she’d hold out as long as possible. Wally deserved a reward for all she was putting him through in order to marry her.
When they arrived, she handed Wally her key and he unchained the barricade barring their entrance into the private club, then chained it back up once she drove through. From ten in the morning until six in the evening, a guard was on duty. He or she checked membership identification, punched guest cards, and unlocked the gate, but after hours, members had to fend for themselves.
Once Wally was back inside the car, Skye drove a short way up a narrow gravel road bordered by grassy areas dotted with trees and picnic tables—all empty at this time of day. Just before the main beach area, which had locker rooms and a pavilion, Skye turned down a dirt path that led to a small lake at the back of the club. She parked on the grass and hopped out of the Bel Air.
Popping the trunk, she handed Wally a cooler and grabbed a basket and an old bedspread, then led him toward the lake. It was a short, steep hike down to the water, but that slope provided them with privacy from the gaze of anyone casually driving by. As she had hoped, the beach was deserted. They were alone at last.
Wally helped Skye spread the quilt on the sand, then sat down and took off his shoes and socks. “Too bad you didn’t tell me we were coming out here. I’d have brought my swimsuit.”
“Don’t worry.” Skye’s expression was poker-faced as she kicked off her sandals. “We have everything we need.” She handed him a Beck’s and a bottle opener before unpacking their picnic supper.
“When did you arrange all this?” Wally took a swig of the ice-cold beer.
“I swung by the supermarket before meeting you at the church.”