Summer Reading is Killing Me (Phee Jefferson Book 2) (9 page)

chapter nineteen

At nine o’ clock, I unlocked the door and prepared
for the onslaught of excited summer readers. Several moms stood outside with
their children. When I opened the door, I stepped back to avoid being trampled
by an antsy toddler dashing towards the reading tent set up for the summer. I
spent most of the morning darting between the circulation desk to hand out bags
and the children’s area to help pick out books.

“My Jordan is an exceptionally bright child,”
Missy Kirkland informed me. “I want him to read chapter books this summer.”

“There’s a great series for beginning chapter
readers over here,” I said and guided her towards the Pete the Pirate series
popular with second grade readers. Jordan wandered away from his mother and
picked up a picture book about whales.

“Jordan, come here!” Missy demanded. She snapped
her fingers and pointed to the shelves next to her. “You’re going to read big
boy books this summer.”

Jordan scowled and threw the picture book on the
floor. He crossed his arms and stomped over to where his mother sorted through
Pete the Pirate books. I picked up the whale book and took it to the desk with
me. I would persuade Missy to transition Jordan to chapter books by reading one
picture book a week along with the “bigger boy books.” Helicopter moms,
determined their child would be the next genius bound for Harvard, took the joy
out of reading. They insisted on pushing higher level books on their kids
before they were ready. As a librarian, I wanted to make sure kids liked to
read, so they would become lifetime book lovers.

“Miss
Phee
! Miss
Phee
!” I heard a little voice calling for me. I searched
the children’s area and spotted eight-year-old Ainsley sitting on the floor
surrounded by a stack of books.

I sat on the floor next to her crisscrossing my
feet under my knees. “How are you, Ainsley? I haven’t seen you for three weeks.
I’ve missed my best reader,” I said. Ainsley came every few days and walked out
with a stack of books almost as tall as she was.

“I visited my grandma. She had no good books at
her house, and she made me play outside all day. It sucked!” Ainsley
complained. “I can’t remember which Nancy Drew I read last.” She peered down at
two of the books she held in her hands.

“If I remember correctly, it was
The Clue of
the Tapping Heels.
You decided you wanted a Persian kitten after reading
it. We talked about how hard Persians were to brush and keep clean,” I said. I
picked up
The Mystery of the Brass-bound Trunk
and handed it to her.
“This is the next book in the series. You’ll like it. Nancy goes on a trip and
her trunk gets mixed up with someone else’s. Smugglers, stolen jewelry and dark
warnings. It’s all very mysterious.”

    “Thanks. I don’t mind reading a
book again, but there are only so many days in summer break. I plan to read
every one of the Nancy Drew books before school starts.”

I helped her pick up her stack of books. I checked
them out and told her I’d see her in a few days. Glancing at the clock, I
realized it was almost one. Claire had come in at noon to help, so I could
safely leave the library for a little while. I told Wade I was meeting Juliet
for lunch and would bring him back a sandwich and chips.

“You make sure Jay Burns knows I have his number
and I’m not afraid to dial it.” Wade cracked his knuckles and flexed his
muscles.

“Good golly. Settle down, Muscles Malone. You’ve
been reading the true crime mafia books again, haven’t you?” I picked up my
purse and left for Odd Couple’s.

It was wall-to-wall diners when I arrived a few
minutes later. Seth sprinted between tables as Stephanie worked the register.
Zachary Towson, a high school student and star soccer player, nearly mowed me
down as he carried a bus pan to the back.

“Sorry, Miss Jefferson. It’s crazy busy in here.
All the reporters and stuff showed up for lunch. Are you looking for your
sister? She’s in the back corner booth by the restrooms,” Zach said and then
scurried through the swinging doors to the kitchen.  

Juliet waved at me, and I worked my way to her
booth. Jay sat across from her. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me sit down
next to Juliet. Seth walked past on his way to the back and took my drink
order.

“This is my sister,
Phee
.
Phee
, Jay Burns,” Juliet introduced us.

“Juliet, you didn’t tell me Jay was joining us for
lunch. He and I met this morning while I waited for you to finish teaching
class.” I twirled one of my stray curls around my finger. “It’s nice to see you
again.”

“I didn’t realize Juliet was your sister. Aren’t I
the lucky guy eating lunch with two gorgeous women?” Jay gave me a predatory
once over that reminded me of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. The photo in
the paper of him ogling Juliet made me view him with a wary eye.

“You’re too kind,” I said. I sensed rather than
saw the reporters in the restaurant waiting to pounce. It wouldn’t surprise me
if they snapped pictures of us with their cell phones from underneath their
tables to sell to the tabloids.

“You must be overwhelmed by all these ghouls invading
your privacy and not allowing you to grieve for
Elody
.”
I gave him my best sympathetic smile.

“You’ve no idea how hard it is,” Jay agreed as he
hung his head and heaved a deep sigh. “They hound me day and night. I’ve been
keeping my chin up and my head low to try to get through the horror of all of
this.” He waved his hands at the room. A few diners stared at us openly over
the tops of their menus. Reporters thinking they were on covert operations.

“You’re a trooper. I couldn’t do it. I’d be an emotional
wreck,” Juliet sympathized. “I heard
Elody
was here
in Miller’s Cove for the women’s art retreat. Did you get a chance to see her
before she died?”

Juliet’s boldness didn’t surprise me. I may
channel Nancy Drew and Miss
Marple
when talking to
suspects, but Juliet was straight Pepper Anderson with a little Cagney and
Lacey tossed into the personality mix. All the cop shows she watched the past
year were coming in handy. I should watch them myself to get some pointers.

“I hadn’t seen her in about a month. It’s like I
told your sister this morning, we argued and
Elody
packed her things and left.”

“How sad for you?” Juliet leaned forward and did
her best imitation of my mother’s concerned face. The girl had mad acting
skills. “Was it an awful fight? I’ve been through some rocky relationships.
It’s hard when you argue and don’t make up afterward. Feelings fester and
sometimes you never get to say how you feel.”

My jaw dropped in awe of Juliet’s subtle digging
at the truth. I took a quick gulp of my root beer to hide my astonishment. Seth
headed towards our table, but I gave him a furtive shake of my head. He nodded
his understanding and pivoted on his heels towards the table nearby to hand
them their check.

Jay leaned forward and lowered his voice. “
Elody
and I fought over art. She wanted me to help her get
her paintings into a few galleries. She got angry when I told her she needed to
work on her technique before she tried to sell any pieces. I explained to her
how vicious critics could be towards new artists. She wouldn’t listen and said
I didn’t support her need to express herself through her art.” His eyes darted
around the room as he spoke to us.

“Did she have any talent, or was she hoping your
name would help her become famous?” I asked. “That sounded rude, didn’t it? I’m
sorry. I assume you get people trying to make money off of you or use your
connections in the art world.
Elody
had her own
connections through her family, didn’t she?”

“She used to, but since she and her dad parted
company, his old cronies wouldn’t take her calls,” Jay confided. “Her paintings
weren’t too bad. They lacked personality, and her style imitated too many other
artists.”

“You tried to protect her feelings because you
cared about her,” Juliet offered.

“Exactly. Now I would give anything to hang her
paintings next to mine in a gallery. Too bad she destroyed all her art when she
left me.” Jay scratched at his neck and sighed. I wondered how much of this was
real and how much was him playing the role of grieving lover. After all, he had
announced his plan to pursue acting as a career.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder. I glanced up
and saw Clint. My heart flip-flopped. I slid out of the booth and hugged him.
“When did you get back? You didn’t call me. Did you get my message about
tonight? I missed you!” I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss.

“Whoa. Slow down and take a breath. I got back
about twenty minutes ago. Wade told me you were here, so I decided to try to
have lunch with my favorite girlfriend. I don’t want to interrupt, so I can
wait and see you after work,” Clint said as he eyed Jay’s pierced ears and
tattoos.

“This is Jay Burns,
Elody
Campbell’s boyfriend,” I said. “Jay, Clint Mason. You’ll probably need to talk
to him about
Elody
and the investigation. He’s a
deputy sheriff.”

Jay stood up and held out his hand. “Nice to meet
you. I hate to cut things short, but all this talk about
Elody
has made me lose my appetite. Can I get a rain check?” He pulled out a fifty
dollar bill and threw it on the table.

“Uh, sure. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Juliet
said. “You don’t need to pay for lunch though.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got a meeting over at Stone
Street Gallery this afternoon. Allow me the pleasure of buying the two
prettiest girls in town lunch. Deputy, nice meeting you.” Jay maneuvered
through the crowded diner and out the front door. A few people stood up and
sprinted after him with cameras in hand.

“Who knew my presence could clear a room,”
Clint joked as he eased into Jay’s vacated spot. “What I want to know is what
you two are doing eating lunch with a suspect?”

“Jay’s a suspect?” Juliet gave Clint a wide-eyed
innocent look. “I ran into him at the memorial service. We talked, and I
invited him to eat lunch with us. It sounds like the police have made progress
in the case if you’re naming suspects.”

“Cut the innocent act,
Juls
.
You and
Phee
look as guilty as my cat when he knocks
all the knick-knacks off the shelf,” Clint said. “I’m gone less than a week,
and the whole town is turned upside-down. Let me rephrase my earlier comment.
Jay is a person of interest in an ongoing investigation. Satisfied?”

“Sheesh. Rain on my interrogation parade, why
don’t you?” Juliet shot back. Her look said she dared him to give her grief
over investigating. “For your information, we found out he argued with
Elody
over her desire to pursue art as a career.”

“But he lied,” I blurted out. “I talked to her
roommate, Shawna, and to Nicolette Simon. Both women said
Elody
possessed real talent. Why would she need Jay’s help to get discovered? Either
they lied, or Jay did. My money is on Jay. He’s lying like a hound dog on a
hearth rug.” I nodded my head in satisfaction as I mentally moved Jay to the
top of my suspect list.

Chapter Twenty

Seth came and took our order. We decided to share
Buddy Holly Baked Nachos with extra guacamole for Juliet and me. Clint wrinkled
his nose when Juliet added it to our order.

“What? Avocados are good for you,” Juliet
protested.

“It looks like the inside of the twins’ diapers. I
can’t do it. You keep your green goo away from my chips, woman, or I won’t be
responsible for my actions,” Clint warned.

 I moved around the booth to sit next to him.
He gave my thigh a quick squeeze under the table and I leaned against him.

“Watson lived up to his name. He’s the one who
discovered
Elody’s
body. You should be upset with him
for dragging me into this mess,” I said.

“He likes finding dead things, but it’s usually
just a field mouse or one of my stinky socks,” Clint said. “The sheriff gave me
an update over the phone. We didn’t release the information about the killer’s
stabbing the paintbrush into her chest. You need to keep it under wraps.”

“We are. I took a picture of the crime scene with
my phone. Let me show you,” I said. I pulled my phone from my purse and showed
him the few photos I’d taken.

“
Ew
. You didn’t tell me
you took pictures. Even I’m not that hardened of an investigator,” Juliet said.
Her nose scrunched, and she gagged.

“I didn’t take a picture of her body, silly goose.
I took a picture of the canvas next to her. It looked like she tried to leave a
clue. She tried to write the name of the killer,” I told her. “I can’t decipher
what letter or word she tried to write because of the smeared paint. It doesn’t
help us out much.”

“The problem with your theory is she may not have
written a name of a person, but a place,” Clint said. He handed the phone to
Juliet so she could view the pictures.

“You’re right. It could be anyone or anywhere. Did
the sheriff tell you that
Elody
took paintings to
Stone Street Gallery to sell on commission?” I mulled this over, then added, “I
think we need to dig into
Nic’s
background a little
more. She’s only lived in Miller’s Cover for two years. What do we really know
about her?”

“I thought that after last year you’d stay away
from murder investigations. I might need to lock you in a closet and flick
Fruity Loops under the door to feed you and keep you safe,” Clint threatened.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer.

“I’ll take Juliet with me. It’s not like I 
can avoid
Nic
anyway. We volunteer at the summer camp
together. I’ll stop by the gallery on my way back to work. I can be subtle. As
a matter of fact, Mom thought about naming me Subtlety, but Dad overrode her.
As much as I appreciate your manly protection, you can’t wrap me in cotton and
lock me in a box,” I said and pulled away from him a little. “I do like Fruity
Loops though.”

“I get it.” Clint held his hands up in surrender.
“I’ll knock off the overprotective attitude if you’ll promise to be careful.
This person already killed once. There’s no guarantee they won’t do it again.
The same goes for you, Juliet. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to
either of you.”

“Ooh, Clint. I love it when you get all big
brother protective with me. If you lock me in the closet with
Phee
, flick me Oat Rings instead,” Juliet joked. “All
kidding aside,
Phee
, he’s right. I don’t want a
repeat of last year. Safety first is my new motto!” Juliet raised her right
hand in the three-fingered scout promise.

“Glad you see the wisdom of my ways,” Clint said
dryly. “
Phee
, what time is your dinner with Senator
Campbell? If you don’t get back too late, I’ll come by your house.”

“It’s at six. I’m sorry I had to cancel our dinner
this evening, but how do you say no to a senator? He wanted to hear from me
what I found rather than accept what he called the “sanitized report” he
received from Sheriff Dawes. I haven’t a clue what I can add.”

“He wasn’t told about the postmortem stabbing, only
the gunshot wound. He also doesn’t know about the clue left on the canvas.
You’ll have to give him a sanitized report yourself,” Clint advised.

Juliet leaned forward and scooped guacamole onto a
chip. “Does Sheriff Dawes suspect Senator Campbell of being involved in the
murder?”

“Not at all. We haven’t ruled out his staff
though. His closest staff member is a guy named Anthony
Ziegfried
.
From our preliminary background check, he is a mover and a shaker in the
political world. He plans to ride someone’s coattails to the White House. Who
knows what he would do to make sure
Elody
didn’t hurt
Senator Campbell’s chances.” Clint refused to look at Juliet and me as we
crunched our guacamole-smeared chips. He shuddered when his eyes fell on the
bowl as he reached for a glob of cheesy beef-laden chips.

“Anthony is a sweetheart,” I said. “He’s very
charming. He’ll be at the dinner tonight, I’m sure. I can’t believe he would
commit murder for a political campaign.”

“Just don’t be fooled by any of these political types.
They make their bread and butter by smooth talk and polished good looks,” Clint
warned.

“Mrs. Lassiter has known Senator Campbell since he
was a child. She went to college with the Senator’s mother,” I said. “By the
way, I learned what happened to Mr. Lassiter yesterday. It turns out he died
their first year of marriage. She never remarried because he was her one true
love.” I sighed. It was so romantic to pine for your one true love. I could
relate.

“Sounds foolish. No one should base their whole existence
on another person. It’s not healthy,” Clint said matter-of-factly. He took a
sip of his iced tea.

“Mrs. Lassiter didn’t base her whole existence on
her husband,” I argued. “She felt that no one else could ever live up to the
love she had with George. I don’t care what you say. It’s sad and romantic.” I
made a point of waving a chip weighed down with guacamole under his nose.

“It sounds like one of you classic movie plots you
love so much. I live in the real world, so I guess I’m just a practical guy.”
Clint leaned back and rubbed his stomach with both hands. “I’m stuffed. It’s
almost two, and I told the sheriff I would stop back by the office before going
home and unpacking my bag. I’ll pick up Watson on my way home. Is his food in
the cupboard by the sink?”

“Yes,” I grumbled and refused to meet his eyes.

“Call me later.” He leaned in for a kiss goodbye.
I gave him a quick peck and slid out of the booth so he could leave. I smiled a
tight smile that didn’t reach my eyes, then sat back down.

“I will,” I promised half-heartedly. After I
watched him walk out, I turned to Juliet. “I’m mad at you!”

“At me? Why?”

“Before you made your little comments about Clint
and his lack of commitment, I was happy and content. Now, I can’t stop
wondering if I’m fooling myself into thinking he and I might have a future.
Maybe I’m still just living a schoolgirl fantasy. Or maybe, everything’s just
fine and you’ve made me paranoid.” I scowled across the table at her. I stabbed
my straw up and down in my glass to break up the ice in the bottom.

“Hold on,
Phee
. I gave
you my honest opinion. Clint’s held himself back since we were kids. He’s the
proverbial strong and silent type. His aunt was old-fashioned and reserved. I’m
sure she raised him to control his emotions. What were his parents like? Maybe
they weren’t demonstrative either.” Juliet said.

“Never asked. It’s awkward bringing up his mom and
dad. Their deaths must have been the most traumatic event in his life. When he’s
ready to tell me about them, he will. I’m not like you,
Juls
.
I don’t feel comfortable poking at an open sore.”

“You should talk to Mom,” Juliet suggested. “She
may have known Clint’s parents when they were alive. They could have been
stuffy like his aunt. If that’s the case, as long as you’re happy with him, my
opinion shouldn’t matter.”

“I’ll talk to Mom, but do me a favor. Don’t fill
my brain with any more doubts. My inner voice is a chatterbox all by itself. It
doesn’t need you to encourage it,” I joked half-heartedly.

“Fair enough. I hope your inner voice talks to you
about your yoga skills. It was asleep this morning when you went to my class.”
Juliet looked up at the ceiling and around the room whistling under her breath.

“Everyone’s a comedian in my life. How did I get
to be such a lucky gal?” I made a mental note to buy Juliet clown shoes to wear
with her hot pink bedazzled mask.