Grace and Sophie were stationed at a low round table, stacks of books piled haphazardly around them.
“I thought we said five books each,” I said.
They looked up from their books and exchanged guilty looks.
“We forgot,” Grace said.
“You’re going to read all of these?”
They nodded their heads vigorously and I just shook my head and smiled. There were going to be bigger battles on the parenting road than limiting the number of books they checked out.
Will joined us a few minutes later, a sports almanac in one hand and a book about weather phenomena in the other. We went to the checkout station and each of them took their turn, first scanning their cards and then lining the books’ barcodes under the red laser.
They gathered up their hauls and I told them to head to the car. Will opened his mouth to ask why but I shoved the car keys in his hand and him permission to start it. His eyes widened with excitement and he marched to the door, the girls trailing behind him, both clamoring for a turn to hit the clicker and unlock the doors. I figured it would be a miracle if the car was still there when I walked out.
I went to the front desk and waited for the white-haired woman seated behind it to look up from her computer screen.
She peered at me from behind reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “Are the machines not working?”
“What?”
She pointed with a pencil. “The self-checkout machines. I know how much your kids love them.”
Excellent. We had a reputation.
“No, no,” I said. “They were fine. We got everything we needed.”
“Oh, good,” she said, nodding. “It’s a pleasure to see those kids leave with so many books.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean just leave?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Absolutely not. Warms my heart to see children excited over books.”
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t completely failing as a mom.
“Well, they do and they love this place,” I said. “So thank you.”
She nodded and waited expectantly.
“I just had one question,” I said. “And, actually, it’s for Helen.”
The woman adjusted the readers on her nose. “Helen?”
“I was just speaking to her a bit ago,” I said. “She’s a shelver. And I just had something I wanted to ask her before we left, if she has a second.”
I decided since she was there that I’d take the opportunity to ask her about Olga. There was no harm in asking and I was sure she’d know plenty about her former sister-in-law.
The woman frowned for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think we have a Helen working here.”
“I was just talking to her ten minutes ago,” I said and gave her a quick description.
The woman stared at me, then shook her head. “Ma’am, there’s no one working here who fits that description. And our only shelver working today is Andy.” She pointed past me.
I turned and saw a man who couldn’t have been younger than seventy, bent over a rolling cart of books.
“And our other shelvers are high school students,” the woman said. “Perhaps you misunderstood?”
I knew it was too much of a coincidence.
“Yes,” I said. “Perhaps I misunderstood.”
FOURTEEN
“I asked Rex to stop by tomorrow,” Jake said as he slid into bed.
We’d gotten home from the library and, while the meeting with Helen bothered me, I was determined to not let it ruin my day. So we read books and I made dinner and I helped Emily with her English homework and we played games until everyone was ready for bed. A weird day had turned into a pretty good day.
I climbed over him and got under the blankets. “Who’s Rex?”
“The inspector dude,” he said. “The guy who did the original inspection for the house when we bought it. I want him to come look at the pipes again and explain some of the things in the inspection report to me so I can get a better handle on exactly what we need to have done right now and what can wait. I don’t want to dump a bunch of money into something that can wait six months if it can wait six months.”
I snuggled in next to him, forcing my way into his arm. “So why not just call a plumber?”
“Because I have no idea what some of this stuff in the report means,” he said. “And I want to know before I start dealing with a plumber. And he offered to help out because the inspection was so…involved.”
I bit back a giggle. “The murder pit is involved.”
He frowned. “I’d prefer it if we not call it that. Sounds like some sort of horror movie.”
“Well, I feel like I’m in the middle of a horror movie right about now.”
“Just because of the body?”
“That and a little more,” I said and told him about my run-in with Helen at the library.
When I was finished, he just shook his head. “A whole lot of crazy going around right now, I guess.”
“But don’t you think that’s weird?” I asked, propping myself up. “That she found me in the library and then lied to me about working there?”
“No weirder than the dude’s sister showing up across the street and you wrestling her into the snow,” he said.
I swatted at his chest. “Be serious.”
“I am, sorta,” he said, laughing. “It’s all just bizarre. But here’s the one thing that keeps rattling around in my head.” He paused. “Why did it get dumped here?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you went out with the guy, you weren’t living here,” he explained. “You were in your old house. That was months ago. And you hadn’t spoken to him or had any contact with him. So while it’s weird that there was a dead body in our basement, it’s really weird that it was his.” He paused. “I find it really hard to believe it was some sort of coincidence.”
I rolled away from him and stared up at the ceiling. “So, what? What exactly are you getting at?”
He shifted in the bed. “I’m not sure what I’m getting at. But real coincidences are few and far between. Hard for me to not think he was put here for a reason.”
“Like, someone trying to set me up?” I asked. “Who? Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know the reason and I’m not going to play amateur detective without more facts. But I’d say it’s likely that there’s some sort of concrete reason he was in our basement.”
“Coal chute.”
“Right.”
An uncomfortable cloud settled over me. Why would anyone have chosen my house as the place to leave the body? If it had been done on purpose, that meant someone had it in for me. But who? I didn’t think I had any real enemies in the world, certainly not one who was angry enough to make me look like a murderer. I knew I didn’t fit the mold with other homeschoolers or even with other women. I wasn’t the kind of person who gossiped, who went for manicures or fancy brunches, who got together with friends for Friday night Bunco. And, sure, my friendships had sort of been limited by that, but I didn’t think my anti-Bunco stance was a motive for murder…or framing me for one. But if it was—if someone had decided they had it in for me—why had they chosen Olaf, someone I barely knew? If they wanted to hurt me, why not choose someone I had a stronger connection with?
“You’re going to be up all night thinking about this, aren’t you?” Jake said, rolling closer to me.
“Most likely.”
He got one arm under me and threw the other over me. “Don’t.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Just close your eyes,” he murmured, his lips on my cheek.
I ignored him, still staring at the ceiling. “I mean, was she stalking me? How else would she have known I was in the library?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because that’s an awesome thought, that not only do I have someone plotting my demise, but I also have a semi-crazed stalker following me around.”