1 Killer Librarian (23 page)

“It’s a pub,” I couldn’t help correcting him. “Did he seem dangerous? Did he have a gun or anything?”

“Didn’t see one.” Dave turned a corner and I saw that we were once again coming up to the Thames. Streetlights shone along the walkway following the river. A few blocks away I could see two people leaning up against a building.

“Is that them?” I asked.

Dave started to trot. I picked up my pace to keep up with him.

Caldwell came abreast of me. “Karen, this is insane. What do you think is going on?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

All of us slowed down as we got closer to the
couple, trying to see what they were doing. Guy appeared to be grabbing Kirstin by the neck. However, she didn’t seem to be struggling.

Dave started to run toward them, yelling, “Let go of her.”

Both Caldwell and I stopped.

Yes, Guy had his hands around Kirstin’s neck, but he wasn’t strangling her—he was kissing her.

And she was kissing him back.

THIRTY-FIVE

Dominoes

D
ave squared his shoulders, put his head down, and ran at them. He had been a football player in high school, even if it was thirty-five years ago. Ramming into someone came naturally, I guess.

I should have yelled their names, but I couldn’t bring myself to say Kirstin’s. Instead I yelled, “Watch out.”

Beside me Caldwell murmured, “What’s he up to?” while I thought it was fairly obvious.

Dave slammed into the man’s back, and the man
went crashing down on top of Kirstin. They toppled like dominoes.

Caldwell and I ran forward to help them all to their feet, but before we could reach them, Kirstin had scrambled out from under, and Dave and Guy—for it was Guy, I could make out his face—were rolling over and over on the ground, trying to clobber each other. Caldwell stepped in closer, maybe thinking of getting between them, and got smacked in the cheek by a backswing from Dave. Kirstin and I both stepped back out of the way.

“Stop them,” Kirstin yelled. Then she looked at me and asked, “What are
you
doing here?”

I didn’t think I had to answer that question right yet. We watched as Dave straddled Guy, screaming in his face about wanting to kill him. But at least they weren’t hitting each other any longer. Caldwell grabbed Dave’s shoulder and tried to pull him off. Dave flailed back with his left arm and knocked Caldwell aside.

I turned to Kirstin and asked, “What is going on? What are you doing with Guy?”

“What did you tell him?”

“Long story.”

Guy wrapped his legs around Dave and flipped him over, then jumped on top of Dave and pinned his shoulders down.

“When I stepped out of our hotel one night to have a cigarette, Guy came walking by and then we started talking,” Kirstin said.

“He picked you up?”

“You could say that. He kept turning up wherever we were.”

“It’s all my fault. I guess I sicced him on you.”

“No way.”

Even though I hated it when kids said it, I had to respond, “Way.”

Caldwell was making another effort to break up the fight. He grabbed Guy’s arm and tried to pull him backward. Guy tipped back and wrapped his arms around Caldwell’s neck and tossed him on top of Dave.

Guy was throwing punches at the both of them, Dave was shouting and striking wildly back, and Caldwell was covering his head and kicking.

It was time to step in. I took the only weapon that was close at hand, a book that I had stuffed in my purse when one of the bags was too full, walked up behind Guy and slammed it down on top of his head.

Everything stopped.

Guy toppled backward and sprawled on the ground. Dave sat up with his mouth hanging open, breathing hard. I must have been on a roll, because I lifted the book and hit him on the head.

Caldwell sprang to his feet and rushed me, saying, “Well done, my wonderful librarian.”

I could tell Caldwell wanted to throw his arms around me, but he stopped a foot or so away. Maybe he was worried I would hit him with the book too. It was all quite confusing.

Kirstin knelt down by Guy and pulled his head into her lap. “Guy? Are you okay?” She glared at me.

I looked at the book in my hands, glad to see it didn’t appear to have sustained any damage.

Dave staggered to his feet, holding his head, and swayed over to Kirstin. “What the hell is going on here? Who is this guy and why was he kissing you?”

Guy groaned and sat up. Kirstin helped him, keeping a hand on each shoulder. After a moment, he shook himself and stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge. “I’m Inspector Guy Wilkins of the Metropolitan. And you’re all under arrest!”

Dave sagged against the railing. “You’re a cop? What are you doing with my girlfriend?”

“Your ex-girlfriend! Your previous ex-girlfriend”—Guy looked at me—“told me how awfully you treat your women. I just happened to live right by your hotel, and when I saw Kirstin there one day, I realized who this lovely tall blonde was and started chatting her up. I could tell that she wasn’t having
the best time. One thing led to another and she has decided that I might be able to show her London in a better light.” Guy smiled and wrapped an arm possessively around Kirstin’s shoulder. “To put it bluntly, mate, you’re just too bloody old for her.”

Kirstin leaned her head on Guy’s shoulder. I had to admit they made a handsome couple. She looked at Dave and said, “I’ll come and get my stuff tomorrow. I’m going home with him.”

They started walking away.

“I thought we were under arrest!” Dave shouted after them.

Guy and Kirstin stopped and looked back at us.

“Now you’ve done it,” Caldwell muttered.

Guy shook his head. “Bloody Americans—not worth the paperwork!”

They turned as a unit and walked off down the street.

Dave hung over the railing, staring down into the Thames, and I was afraid he was thinking either of jumping in or throwing up. Caldwell must have had the same thought for he moved a little closer to him.

“Dave,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

He hung his head and shook it like a dog. “Doesn’t matter. Kirstin was boring once the cuteness wore off. I’m glad she’s gone. Being with her made me realize how much I missed you. Karen, I’m
sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I really messed things up.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dave was actually apologizing to me. This was a first.

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean for all this to happen,” I said.

“But did you have to tell a cop?”

“Well, I didn’t know that’s what he was. In fact, I thought he was quite the opposite—a dangerous criminal type. Plus, I was pretty drunk when I met him. I’m sure he guessed that.”

“You were drunk?” Dave asked.

“The beer is stronger over here.”

“You got that right.” Dave smiled at me. “I would have liked to see that. Karen the librarian, drunk.”

He took a step toward me. “Let’s forget this ever happened.” He dusted off his sweatshirt. “This whole stinky mess. We’ve got a couple days left on our vacation. Get your bags and join me. Like this never happened. I’ll make it up to you. All of it. I’ll do whatever you want to do. We can go to every bookstore in London.”

I stood very still, looking past Dave to the Thames. I could feel Caldwell watching me. Dave took another step closer. I thought of a fluffy white mattress floating down the river.

While I no longer wanted to kill Dave—and that
felt very good—neither did I want to spend any more time in his company. I wanted to be with a man who loved books, and loved me loving books.

“I already threw the mattress away.”

A laugh barked out of Caldwell. “Karen,” he said.

I ran to him and stepped into his arms. The kiss that he gave me made up for absolutely everything bad in my whole entire life. And then some.

THIRTY-SIX

Double Decked

W
hen Caldwell and I came up for air, we were all alone, standing on a lamplit street by the Thames.

He ran his fingers over my cheeks and said, “Sweet one, as I said before, let’s go home.”

“It’s sounding better and better.”

We strolled back toward the car, which we had parked in front of the pub. Caldwell linked his arm through mine and I thought of photographs of European couples walking like this, joined so tightly together there was no distance between their bodies as they moved.

Caldwell delivered me to my side of the car and, as he was opening the door, we both looked over and saw Dave standing across the street from the Holiday Inn.

He swayed slightly. His shoulders sagged like two sloppy bags of grain. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Poor bloke,” Caldwell said.

“Yeah, he is.”

“He’s left with nothing.”

“He’s got his toilet,” I pointed out.

As we stood there watching, Dave glanced the wrong way, then stepped off the curb into the path of a red double-decker bus.

I’m sure he never knew what hit him.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Shelving and Drowning

S
helving books in the Sunshine Valley Library usually soothed my nerves. The task was so methodical and satisfying. Along the way, I would realphabetize the books that had gone astray. Creating order out of a muddle. How nice that there was a certain place, one place only, that a book should be in a library, and I was able to put it there.

While I had returned from England nearly a month ago, I had only been back at work for a couple weeks. As Rosie had warned, the pile on my desk was overwhelming. But everyone had been very kind to me.

Rosie stayed late two nights in a row to help me dig out from under. She even forgave me for calling her in the middle of the night. But then, Rosie was in a very good mood these days.

Today she had another date with Richard.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked as she pulled on her coat. “That I’m leaving early?”

“No. Can’t wait to meet him again.” I smiled at her, which made my cheeks feel tight and bulgy. She seemed not to notice how much work it was for me to put on a good face.

I watched her demeanor transform as Richard walked in the door. She blossomed like a flower.

Richard was roughly a foot taller than Rosie, but they probably weighed about the same. When he stood in front of her, he tapped her on the nose. She giggled. They were made for each other.

He nodded at me when we were introduced, but I could see he only had eyes for her. He called her “Bud.” Rosie had explained to me that it was short for Rosebud, his nickname for her. “He’s into old movies,” she had told me. As they left the library they didn’t hold hands, but bumped each other gently as they moved along, like cows walking sociably through a pasture.

I was happy for her, but seeing them together really made me feel like crawling onto a shelf and hiding.
While I loved my work, I had tasted another life and I had liked it better.

The night that Dave had been killed by the bus was a blur, but a blur that I couldn’t see around. I had been put in charge of his body and made responsible for bringing it back to the States. Kirstin had showed up for a moment at his hotel room to get her bags, but afterward had disappeared for good.