1 Killer Librarian (22 page)

The door to the B and B swung open and the Tweedles were standing there, waving at us.

As we got out of the car we could hear them saying, “We were waiting for you to get home. Annette’s run off with that young man. We knew there was something fishy going on.”

Reluctantly we left our stashes of books well secured in the backseat and went into the house.

“What has happened?” Caldwell asked.

The two women jostled in front of him to tell the story.

“She took a bag with her.”

“He helped her carry her stuff.”

“She wouldn’t talk to us, tell us anything.”

“He held her hand.”

Caldwell looked at them both. “So you don’t know where she’s gone or even if she’s done anything but gone out for dinner?”

“We think more than that. We’ve been suspecting for some time that she has taken a liking to that guy. Haven’t we, Betty?”

Betty just nodded. It was as if she had wound down.

Caldwell went to work in the kitchen, getting us all something to drink. He and I had tea; the Tweedles went for hot toddies. They had brought their own stash of bourbon. They insisted that Caldwell try the bourbon and he took a swig, then wrinkled his nose. “Nasty stuff.”

“Howard liked it if it was made into a hot toddy.”

We all adjourned to the back room. After a sip of our drinks, I decided it was time to ask the Tweedles some questions. I’d start out easy. “Did you make a hot toddy for Howard that last night?”

Betty nodded. “Yes, he said he was going to have trouble sleeping. I wanted to make sure he didn’t.”

“But I made him one,” said Barb.

“You too?”

“Yes, you had gone to sleep.”

“Two hot toddies?” Caldwell joined in.

Before I started to lose track of who was talking I asked, “What did you put in the hot toddies? Any extraspecial ingredient?”

They both turned and looked at me.

I decided the best way to handle this was to put it to them straight. Neither of them seemed like the type to be able to lie. So I asked, “Barb, did you put any foxglove in his drink?”

“No, I did,” Betty said. “I put just a titch of foxglove in his drink. Just enough to make him sick.”

“But I did too,” Barb jumped in.

“From Caldwell’s garden?” I asked.

They both nodded.

“Why?” I asked.

The Tweedles looked at each other. It was as if Caldwell and I weren’t in the room.

“Because he hurt you,” Betty said. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to teach him a lesson. I was still mad about him marrying Annette. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“I didn’t think he’d die. I just wanted to give him
a bit of a fright. Make him think twice about what he had done to me.”

“It wasn’t very much. Just a pinch.”

“I was so careful to put only a dash in the drink.”

“He didn’t seem to notice it.”

“He drank it right down.”

“I did it for you.”

“I did it for us. So he would know what it felt like to be hurt.”

They threw their arms around each other and started to cry.

Caldwell and I looked at each other. He made a face and took a sip of his tea. I followed suit.

Finally, deflated, the two Tweedles sank down into chairs. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Well, we have to tell someone,” Caldwell said.

“I suppose,” Betty agreed.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Barb added.

“You didn’t mean to kill him?” I asked, feeling sorry for them in their predicament, understanding it a little too much for my comfort.

“Oh, no, not Howard.”

“We really both loved him, in our own ways.”

When we were done with our drinks, Caldwell called the police.

THIRTY-THREE

Kidnapped

I
’d be surprised if the Tweedles got much time at all,” Caldwell said the next night as we sat at what we now considered our curry place, the restaurant we had gone to eat at my first night in London. We had just finished our meal. I was pretty sure we were on a date.

“Hopefully, they’ll be able to share a cell,” I said.

“Yes, it would be awful to think of them as being apart.”

“The police were very gentle with them last night,” I said.

“We’ll know more in a few days. I hope they settle out of court. I don’t want to have to say anything against them, poor old dears.”

“I agree with you, but they are experts on flowers, and they must have had a sense of the danger they were putting him in.”

“They loved roses. I’m not sure they knew a whole lot about foxglove. But that’s for the court to find out.”

I had excused myself to go to the loo halfway through dinner and by this devious means had already paid for the meal.

“We just need the check,” he said.

“I’ve taken care of it,” I proudly announced.

“Why, you little cheeky thing, you. How did you manage?”

“I have my ways.”

“Feel like going to the pub?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. A hot toddy in front of the fire sounds good.”

“How about a glass of wine?”

“Even better.”

We had only just settled, sitting very close together on the love seat in front of the fire, when a blare of the William Tell overture jolted out of my pocket. We jumped apart. It took me a second to recognize my cell phone ring.

“It’s my phone,” I said. “It never rings.”

“You’d better answer it.”

“Let me just see who it is,” I pulled out the cell phone. The number I saw was all too familiar. “It’s Dave.”

“Blast him,” Caldwell said.

“I’ll get rid of him.” I had to answer it. After all, he might be in trouble because of me.

“Yes?” I said.

Dave’s voice came booming over the line, loud music playing in the background. “Karen, Kirstin’s gone missing. That guy took her.”

“What guy?”

“The one you warned me about, the guy with blond hair. He’s taken Kirstin. I saw him talk to her and the next minute she was gone.”

“Where are you?”

“At a pub across the street from the hotel. I don’t know what to do.”

I looked at Caldwell and he was watching me carefully. “How long has she been gone?”

“It just happened. You have to help me. This is all your fault. What if he hurts her?”

“Why would he take her?”

Dave’s voice cracked. “How would I know? What did you tell him? How could you do this to me?”

He was right. It was all my fault. Somehow my
conversation with Guy had activated something in him that was ending up with a missing woman. Not good. I had to fix it.

“Okay. I’ll be right there. Stay where you are.” I clicked the phone shut.

“Who is ‘her’?” Caldwell asked.

I turned and faced Caldwell. “I didn’t tell you everything.”

“Where do we need to go to?”

“I can catch a cab.”

“Not so easy at this time of night. I can drive you.”

“Are you sure?”

“How else am I going to get the full story out of you?”

Once we were in his car, I filled him in. “Dave came to England too.”

“So I gathered.”

“On the same plane. I saw him. With another woman. Young. Skinny. Her name is Kirstin. Quite a Minnesota name.”

“Yes,” Caldwell said patiently.

“I was rather angry.”

“Mmm.”

I couldn’t be sure in the dark, but it sounded like his lips had gone rather tight. I wanted to spit the whole story out in one large glob. It felt like it was poison and I had to get it out of my system.

“Well, as I said, they were on the same plane as me. No surprise. Then, almost by accident, I followed them to their hotel. Then, at the bar, I told the blond-haired guy, Guy—remember, the man I was talking to?—about what Dave had done to me. I might have mentioned something about wanting to kill him. Guy was very understanding. Said he knew how I felt. Then the next day I saw Guy talking to Kirstin at the National Gallery. When I tried to catch up to him to see why he was there, he seemed to be giving me a signal.”

“A signal?”

“Yeah, the gun-in-the-air signal.”

“The gun-in-the-air signal. I’m not familiar with that.”

“Yes, you are.” I showed him, holding my hand up in the car like it was a gun. “I took it to mean he was on the case. Then he pointed his hand at Kirstin and pretended to shoot her.”

“Yow. That doesn’t sound good.” Caldwell’s voice grew thin. “What did you tell him in the bar?”

“That’s the puzzling thing. I’ve tried to remember. I was a bit drunk, but I didn’t think I was that bad. I’m not really sure. I’ve tried to warn Dave that he might be in danger and all that, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“And now this guy has taken Dave’s new girlfriend?”

“It appears. Dave saw them together and she’s gone missing. He sounds frantic.” I squeezed my hands together. “It’s probably nothing, but I’d feel better if we checked it out. Dave’s not good in a jam.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” The dryness in Caldwell’s voice would have evaporated a lake.

THIRTY-FOUR

Mosh Pit

I
couldn’t help it—when I saw Dave I felt sorry for him. He was sitting on a stool scrunched up against the bar. A wall of backs had him fenced in and he was gulping down a pint, wiping at his eyes. I hated to think that he had been crying.

“Karen,” he yelled when he saw me and stood, tipping over the stool, sloshing his beer on the coat of a man standing next to him.

Typical Dave, oblivious to the world around him, swaying into the crowd as if entering a mosh pit. At that moment, I couldn’t help but see him
through Caldwell’s eyes, and notice how big and American he seemed. He stood over six feet tall, with a baseball cap over his balding head. He carried his belly proudly under a blue sweatshirt. He was scruffy, with stubble on his face and something red spilled on his chest. I hoped it was ketchup. Had he fought Guy, trying to prevent him from taking Kirstin?

“Do you think he really forced her to go with him? Did you think about calling the police?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. It was awful. It happened so fast. I just want to find Kirstin.” His voice wavered and again I wondered if he was near tears. Give him a plumbing job—no matter how difficult—and he jumped right in, but complications outside that world often frustrated him.

I grabbed for Caldwell’s arm and pulled him close to me as we moved closer to the bar and my ex-boyfriend. “Dave, this is Caldwell, the owner of the B and B where I am staying.” I thought,
Where
we
were supposed to have been staying.

Dave nodded at Caldwell but didn’t offer him his hand. “Since he’s English, maybe he can talk some sense into this a-hole that grabbed Kirstin.”

“Where did you last see her? What happened? Are you sure this guy took her?” I asked.

“It happened so fast. He grabbed her and pulled her away.”

“Doesn’t make any sense,” Caldwell murmured.

Dave lifted a large hand to the top of his head and scratched at his hat as if digging for something important. “Nothing does anymore. I feel completely lost. What did you tell this guy about me? Why is he after us?”

“Let’s find Kirstin first. We can talk about that later.”

“I’ll show you where they went.” He walked to the door of the pub and we followed. Caldwell was staring at Dave as if he was some kind of animal he had never seen before.

I whispered to him. “I think he’s a little drunk.”

“I’d say so,” Caldwell said back.

“I’m sorry to drag you into this.”

“I feel slightly responsible too. After all, I took you to the pub where you met this Guy fellow.”

When we hit the street Dave kept walking. We kept following. As much as I wanted to grab Caldwell’s hand, I wasn’t sure it was the right time. I had a feeling he was not very happy with me. I guess it didn’t look good that I had made so much
trouble for my last boyfriend. It would, as the British say, give a person pause for thought.

I caught up with Dave. “Why didn’t you stop him from taking her?” I asked.

He kept walking. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t have time to think. It all happened in a second. One moment she was standing next to me and the next minute she was gone. All I saw was that he had his arm wrapped around her neck, dragging her off. I couldn’t believe it. I ran after them but lost them up by the river. Then I went back to the bar and called you.”