Murder Between the Pages, page 2
Larry stood tall and made a salute. “Okay, madam librarian. You’re the boss.” He turned to Stephen. “See what I have to put up with? Boss lady quickly turns into ‘bossy lady.’”
“I do see.” Stephen’s eyes twinkled. “Mind if I tag along?”
“Not at all.” Larry turned to Nina. “Right, Nina?”
Nina’s stomach tensed, but she mustered a smile. “Of course.” As Nina accompanied Stephen and Larry to the rows of chairs, she glimpsed Wildeen emerging from the house.
Wildeen strode with her shoulders straight and her head high.
The back of Nina’s neck pricked. Wildeen looks like a woman on a mission. But not about Josh. Not now. This mission is about Zelma and her book.
Whatever Wildeen was up to, Nina feared the outcome would be unpleasant.
Chapter Two
Nina sat with Stephen and Larry on her left and Wildeen and Hamlet on her right. She introduced Wildeen and Hamlet to Stephen, leaning back in her seat while the three exchanged a few remarks.
When everyone was settled, Elizabeth Botts stepped to the lectern. “Thank you for coming this evening.” Her gaze roved over the group. “Burgess and I are so excited to have as the guest of honor our very own homegrown celebrity.”
“Homegrown?” Larry whispered. “What is she talking about? A tomato?”
Nina shook her head.
Stephen gave a low chuckle.
Elizabeth stepped back. “Without any more ado, let me introduce Zelma Duke.”
Enthusiastic applause accompanied Zelma to the lectern.
Although a good twenty pounds overweight for her five-foot, two-inch frame, Zelma made an impressive appearance in her stylish blue dress accented with a blue print scarf. Her thick, black hair, swept back from her face, set off wide, dark brown eyes, a straight, slender nose, and full lips. Zelma confided to Nina that she’d had a makeover at a prestigious Seattle salon. She was even sporting long, scarlet fingernails. Knowing Zelma to be a compulsive nail-biter, Nina wondered how she coped without her own nails to nibble on.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Zelma’s melodious voice floated along the airwaves. “I appreciate you and Burgess opening Bottswood to all my friends and fans. And while I’m thanking people, I must not forget two who are very important. One is my literary agent, Morry Snyder. Stand up, Morry.” Zelma gestured to the front row.
A heavy-set man lumbered to his feet and turned a blunt-featured, fleshy face to the audience. He grinned and then ran a hand over his high forehead and thinning black hair. “Hi, y’all.” He plopped back down, and the metal seat wobbled as he settled.
“The other person,” Zelma said, “is my publicist, Sondra Wagner.”
Publicist? My, my. Nina knew Zelma had a literary agent, but acquiring a publicist moved her up another notch in the publishing world.
The woman sitting next to Morry Snyder stood and took a bow. A smooth cap of dark brown hair and an upturned nose gave her a pixie look.
“The past few months have been so exciting”—Zelma rolled her eyes—“from the time I learned my publisher’s big plans for My Restless Heart to this very moment. Last week, I flew to New York and was met by a limousine. Me, Zelma Duke, from Richmond, Washington.” She pointed to her chest. “I said to my editor, Joanie, ‘Surely, you don’t treat all your authors to a limousine,’ and she said, ‘Only those we plan to make into stars.’” Zelma smiled and fluttered her false eyelashes.
“Oh, gimme a break.” Wildeen groaned.
Zelma gripped the lectern and swept her gaze over the audience. “My publicist has planned a nationwide tour. But I can assure you nothing will be as special as this appearance here at Bottswood, surrounded by my friends. Why, I was telling my agent the other day, over lunch at Twenty-One.” She batted her eyelashes. “You know, that famous restaurant in Manhattan?”
Nina’s attention wandered to the row of madrona trees lining the cliff. Sunlight glazed their twisted trunks with an orange glow. Behind the trees, the sky was pale blue at the top and a soft peach near the horizon. She sighed. Bottswood truly was a beautiful place.
Stephen shifted and folded his arms.
She wondered idly what he, as a former New Yorker, thought of Zelma’s starry-eyed account of her trip. Amusement, probably, with a dash of disdain, and perhaps boredom. Never mind. She really didn’t care what he thought.
When Zelma finally finished her story, she took a copy of My Restless Heart from the lectern’s shelf. “And now, I’d like to share a few passages from my book.”
Nina expected another groan from Wildeen.
Instead, Wildeen straightened and focused on Zelma.
Zelma held up the book and pointed to the cover. “As I’m sure you all know by now, the story is about an Italian immigrant, Flavia Magnioni, who comes to our very own Northwest, where she meets Jet Houston, a prosperous banker. Here’s the scene in which Flavia sees her new homeland for the first time.” She opened to a page marked by a bookmark and read aloud.
As Nina listened, she thought how Zelma’s writing had improved with this new book. Apparently, the twenty books she’d already written helped to hone her craft.
Zelma finished the passage and then smiled at the audience. “I’ll read one more scene.”
“Read pages one hundred twenty to one hundred twenty-five,” Wildeen called out.
Zelma turned the book’s pages. She looked up at Wildeen and frowned. “But this section isn’t one of the highlights of the story.”
“Oh, but it is. Besides, I want to hear you read those pages.”
Wildeen’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Nina cringed.
“Well…all right.” Zelma cleared her throat and read.
The second passage was even better than the first. However, why would Wildeen want to show off Zelma’s talents when she was so jealous? Nina glanced at Wildeen. A flush reddened her cheeks, and her gaze riveted on Zelma.
Zelma finished reading and closed the book. Without looking in Wildeen’s direction, she stepped away from the lectern and took a bow. “Thank you all for coming tonight. And please watch my interview on the Northwest Celebrities Show tomorrow at three p.m. on channel forty.”
Nina joined in the ensuing applause. Then she leaned toward Wildeen. “Why did you want Zelma to read that particular scene?”
“You’ll know soon enough.” Wildeen narrowed her eyes.
Nina felt her stomach clench. “Why can’t I know now?”
“Because you can’t. Don’t ask me any more questions about it, okay?”
“Okay.” Nina gave a resigned sigh and sat back. She didn’t like letting the matter go. Not one bit.
Elizabeth Botts returned to the lectern. “The evening is by no means over, folks. Burgess and I invite you to experience the nature walk we’ve created here at Bottswood. The entrance is there.” She pointed to the edge of the lawn, beyond which stood a forest dominated by towering evergreens. “You’ll find plenty of interesting plants and flowers to enjoy and several lookouts.”
“I’m game,” Stephen said to Nina. “How about you?”
She hesitated. A walk in the forest promised to be pleasant, but did she want to spend more time in Stephen’s company? Her feelings toward him were already confused. She wanted to dislike this outsider who had invaded their tight-knit community. Still, whenever he caught her eye, something inside her stirred.
Quit being such an adolescent. You can handle a walk in the woods. He’s not asking for a date.
“All right,” she said. “Why not?”
****
When so many others expressed interest, Burgess and Elizabeth took all of them together on a guided walk. In addition to Nina and Stephen, the group included Larry, Josh and Patti, Wildeen and Hamlet, Zelma, Sondra and Morry, and Dorothy and several other Literary Lights.
They followed Burgess and Elizabeth down a dirt path leading into the woods. Wild rhododendron bushes, some as tall as six feet and with blossoms ranging from white to soft pink to violet, lined the way. The sweet, earthy smell made Nina’s nose tingle.
“Awesome,” Stephen commented as he gazed around. “One of the reasons I came to the Northwest was to enjoy places like this.”
Nina pursed her lips. “The trouble is, places like this won’t exist anymore if people like you keep moving here.”
Stephen held up a hand. “I heard you Washingtonians do a lot of transplant-bashing. But you can save your breath on me. I’m immune.”
“Is that so?” she said in a dry tone.
Ahead of them, Burgess and Elizabeth kept up a running commentary on the surroundings.
Nina couldn’t hear all that was said, but phrases such as “environmentally correct” and “ecological systems” floated back to her ears.
They came to an arched wooden bridge spanning a pond full of lily pads and cattails. From there they rounded a corner and arrived at a lookout.
At the panoramic view, Nina caught her breath. Across the sound, a pale yellow sun disappeared behind the Olympic Peninsula’s ridge of snow-capped mountains. Near the horizon line, caught in the sun’s rays, a liner traveled north to Canada.
“This spot is the end of the line.” Burgess stopped and planted his feet apart. “Feel free to watch the sunset here or on the beach.” He pointed to a narrow wooden stairway leading to the rocky shore. “Or revisit anything else we’ve seen.”
After putting their heads together in a brief discussion, the Literary Lights remained at the lookout.
Stephen chose the stairs to the beach.
Josh and Patti wandered down one of the darker paths.
Hamlet went off to find the evergreen Burgess said had the largest girth of any in the state.
Larry wanted to check out some wildflowers he’d seen earlier.
Burgess and Elizabeth went to tend their birdfeeders.
Zelma, Sondra, and Morry started back up the trail.
Wildeen set out after them.
Nina revisited the pond. She stood at the bridge’s railing, watching the lily pads drift lazily, as though nudged by an unseen hand, and listening to the chorus of frogs rising from their hiding places among the cattails. When she’d had enough communing with nature, she, too, headed back to the house. Rounding a sharp switchback, she heard Zelma say, “Wildeen, you wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Wildeen replied.
Nina ducked behind a large rhododendron bush. Pushing aside a handful of pink blossoms, she glimpsed Zelma and Wildeen only a few yards away. Never mind she was spying and eavesdropping. Since the reading, she had been worried about her two friends, and this opportunity might be ideal to discover the trouble between them.
“Can’t we talk this over later?” Zelma held out both hands, palms up.
Wildeen folded her arms. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“I think we do. I beg you, before you do anything, hear me out. Meet me later tonight. Please.”
“Well…” Wildeen tilted her head. “I will be stopping in the bookstore on my way home tonight. Be there around eleven, if you want to catch me.”
“Okay, eleven it is.” Zelma’s shoulders sagged.
“But don’t count on me changing my mind.”
The two moved off, and the voices faded.
Nina waited several moments before abandoning her hiding place and returning to the path. Now, she was more mystified than ever. Whatever the matter was, Zelma and Wildeen planned more discussion later tonight, at Wildeen’s bookstore. Surely, they would work out their differences then. Still, Nina’s stomach churned with worry.
When she emerged from the forest, she saw Wildeen and Zelma standing at opposite ends of the rose garden with their backs to each other. Noticing Zelma’s chalk-white face, Nina hurried to her side. “Are you okay?”
Zelma lifted her chin. “Of course, I am. The climb back up tired me out, that’s all.”
“I thought Morry and Sondra were with you?”
“They were, until Sondra broke a heel on her shoe. They told me to go on ahead while they searched.”
That explained how Wildeen could get Zelma alone. Nina looked around, wondering when the rest of the group would return.
Just then, Morry, huffing and puffing, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, appeared at the top of the path.
“Where’s Sondra?” Zelma leaned to peek around him.
Morry took a handkerchief from his slacks pocket and swiped at the perspiration on his forehead. “Aw, after we sent you on ahead, she insisted I take off, too, while she hunted for her heel on her own. Said she didn’t want to spoil my walk.” He tucked away his handkerchief and stretched his arm around Zelma’s shoulders. “What’s the matter, kid? You’re so pale. You see a ghost on the walk, or what? Ha ha.”
Zelma gave him a faint smile. “I’m just tired. These appearances are stressful.”
“Hey, you’re only getting started. Get a good night’s sleep tonight, you hear? You gotta be fresh for your tour in a coupla days. Oh, there she is,” he added, as Sondra limped into view. “You find your heel, kid?”
Sondra shook her head. “It must have gone over the cliff.” She frowned at her red pumps, one with a heel and one without.
Hamlet appeared, brushing pine needles from his shoulders.
“Did you find the big tree?” Nina asked, curious to know if he had reached his destination, or if he, too, might have overheard the puzzling conversation between Zelma and Wildeen.
Hamlet’s nod set his earring dancing. “The tree sits way down in a deep hollow. I had a heckuva time getting there, but the extra work was worth the trouble. That sucker is one giant tree.”
Dorothy and her Literary Lights joined them, raving about the beautiful sunset.
Then came Larry, excited over the wildflowers. “I’d like to have some of them to plant at home.”
Stephen loped up the path and stepped onto the lawn. “The beach was great. I would’ve taken a longer walk but the tide was coming in.”
Josh and Patti returned. Pink lipstick smudged Josh’s lower lip.
Elizabeth arrived next. “Where’s Burgess?” She frowned and chewed her lower lip. “We stopped to check on our bird feeders, and when I looked for him, he was gone.”
The others shrugged and shook their heads.
Tucking her slender hands into her wide jacket sleeves, Elizabeth gazed into the woods, now a patchwork of blue, green, and gray shadows.
Nina found Elizabeth’s distress curious. Surely, Burgess wouldn’t get lost on his own property.
At last, Burgess came trudging up the path.
“Where did you disappear to?” Elizabeth frowned at her husband.
Burgess waved a dirt-caked hand. “The sign for the Douglas Fir fell over. I had to set it up again.”
“You might have told me you were going off,” Elizabeth complained.
Burgess looked up at his taller wife. “But, my dear, you were busy watching the hummingbirds. I didn’t want to scare them away by talking. Thought I’d slip off and take care of the sign. You know I can’t get lost, don’t you?”
“I suppose so.” Elizabeth turned to the others, her frown morphing into a smile. “Well, I hope you enjoyed our little sojourn into Bottswood.”
Everyone said they had, and soon after, the group broke up.
Nina paid her respects to Elizabeth and Burgess and then headed down the asphalt driveway to her car. As she drove away, she checked the dashboard clock. Ten fifteen. Forty-five minutes until Wildeen and Zelma’s meeting at Bergman Books. She wished she could be present, too. Maybe she could help them to resolve their conflict—whatever that conflict was.
But, as close friends as they all were, she wouldn’t intrude. She’d only hope they’d settle the matter on their own.
****
Most days, even rainy ones, Nina walked the six-block distance from her Viewmont Estates’ condo to the Seaview Library. The morning after the party, remembering her promise to stop at Wildeen’s bookstore, she stretched the six blocks to ten, bypassing the library and continuing down Grove Street to Main. Traveling along Main, she passed the Soup and Sandwich Deli, the Yesteryear Antique Mall, and Helmer’s Jewelry store. Jerry Helmer, a rosy-cheeked man in his sixties, arranged a display of diamond rings in the window. He looked up, and they exchanged a wave.
Bergman Books, New and Used, sat on the corner. Nina paused to study the array of mystery novels in the window and then approached the door. She twisted the knob, expecting the door to pop open.
The knob held fast.
How odd. Wildeen usually opened the store promptly at nine. Shading her eyes with a hand, Nina leaned against the glass and peered inside. The fluorescent nightlights cast a dim glow over the interior. Nina knocked on the wooden doorframe. She waited, expecting to see her friend emerge from the shadows and hurry to open the door.
No one appeared.
Again, she knocked, harder this time, and waited, shifting from one foot to the other. Still no sign of Wildeen. Most likely, she was busy in the store’s back room and failed to keep track of the time. Nina should go on to work. She didn’t want to be late for this morning’s ten o’clock staff meeting.
Yet, an eagerness to see the book Wildeen discovered, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, made her reluctant to give up. She wanted to take the book to the library to pore over on her coffee break and at lunch. Recalling the store had a back entrance, Nina went around the corner, entered the alley, and knocked on the door. Once again, she waited.
The door remained closed. Nina grasped the knob, which turned readily. She pushed open the door. “Wildeen?” Nina stopped in the doorway and stared. The office appeared hit by a hurricane. Cupboard doors hung open, and drawers from the desk and work counter lay on the floor, their contents scattered from one end of the room to the other. A strange, metallic odor hung in the air.
Her gaze landed on a person’s leg sticking out from behind the desk. A leg wearing a green stocking, and the foot a black flat.
An image of Wildeen at last night’s party, wearing a yellow sweater and green stockings, popped into Nina’s mind. Her throat constricted, and she pressed a hand to her chest. Oh no, not Wildeen! Please, God, no. She picked her way through the debris, peered around the desk, and gasped.
