Winter Festival Murder Page 11

  "What is all of this?" I asked. I had an inkling of where he was headed, but I wanted to hear him say it.

  "I found this box in Charlie's car after he was arrested," Rich said. "I knew something has been going on with Charlie, but I couldn't figure out what. Look at this last thing I found."

  Rich held a folded up piece of paper. I opened it up and glanced at it. It was a credit card statement with Charlie's name on it. And by the large, red number, he was in quite a bit of debt that he was seemingly unable to pay.

  "So the reason he wanted to win the hunt was for the money," I said. "Well, I hate to say it, but that just adds to his motive, Rich."

  "But look at the job applications," Rich said. "That's where he's been disappearing off to. I think he's been trying to get a second job to help pay these off. I just wish he would have told me. I would have helped him."

  I nodded, trying to piece all of this information together. The list must be the places he had already applied to. I assumed the ones that were crossed off were a no-go. The other markings might mean places he had turned applications in to and ones where he had interviewed.

  "Have you called any of these places?" I asked.

  "No, Charlie obviously didn't want to tell me about all of this and I didn't want to break his trust," Rich said.

  "I hate to tell you, but the police are pretty convinced Charlie did it," I said, realizing after it came out of my mouth that the fact they had arrested him meant it was pretty obvious they thought he did it. "So if we want to help him, we will have to do a little digging into this."

  Rich winced, but I couldn't tell which part hurt more: the fact that the police were certain Charlie did it or the fact that we would have to dig through some of his personal problems to try and help.

  "Don't worry Rich, I'll take care of it," I said. I started putting all of the papers and the books back into the box. "Do you mind if I take these things with me?"

  Rich shook his head and tossed the credit card statement on top before putting the lid on for me. He looked cautiously hopeful and I told myself I could not let him down. The list of people I was helping just kept getting longer. I needed to keep plowing through all of this and just get to the end of it. Even if Charlie did do it, I needed to know.

  "I think my first visit will be the library tomorrow," I said. "It looks like Charlie's been spending some time there."

  "I wouldn't know," Rich said with a sad shrug. He had always been one of those guys who never looked his age. It was almost like the wrinkles only appeared when he was worried. Right now, the worry was carving trenches in his face that I wasn't sure would fix themselves. That must happen when your child is accused of murder. "Like I said, he hasn't been talking to me about all of this. Come on, I'll help you go out the back so you don't have to lug that box through the crowd."

  Rich opened the door of the office and motioned for me to exit first. I squeezed my way out of the door and waited while Rich did the same, grabbing the box off of the end of the desk before I could. He walked me to the back door of the kitchen. He handed me the box and opened the door, letting in a cold swirl of snow.

  I started to shuffle walk out the back door, not wanting to slip and drop the box into the snow. It was windy enough that if I dropped it, I was sure the lid would fall off and the papers would blow away and honestly, I needed all of the evidence I could get right now.

  "Hey Rich," I said, turning back towards the door. "Would Charlie have a Loony Bin keyring by chance? Like a little dangly on his keys that said the Loony Bin?"

  "Oh sure, I gave them to all of my employees," Rich said. "I ordered a bunch to throw into the prizes on trivia night and I figured I could give them to everyone who works here for free."

  I nodded at him and turned back to head to the car.

  "Thank you again Tessa," Rich called from the door. I turned and threw him a smile, keeping my tight grip on the lid of the box. "And nice job at the snow sculpture competition."

  I had to laugh as I heard the door slam shut. I'd probably have people congratulating me on that snow thermometer for months, until well after the snow melted for the season. I was also assuming I'd see a story about it in the paper tomorrow, most likely with an unflattering picture of myself running alongside it, at least if Chelsea had her way.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Shady Lake Public Library was an unassuming building just off of the main downtown area. It was built into a hill so on one side it only appeared to be one story tall, but from the opposite side, you could see that there were actually three stories. I hadn't actually visited the library since I moved back to Shady Lake.

  As a child, I had spent a lot of time in the children's library. The upper level had the adult section and the second floor had the children's section. I used to visit several times a week as a child, taking advantage of all of the different programs and classes that they offered. I had even volunteered there, which meant I had been in charge of stamping the due date in the back of the books when they were checked out back before everything was done by computers.

  Even when I was in high school, I still stopped by the library weekly to get a new stack of books. I didn't have as much time to hang out there, but I made time to browse the shelves and chat a little bit with the librarians.

  But then I left Shady Lake and felt like I had to almost reinvent myself. I was still Tessa, but I was no longer Shady Lake Tessa. I had morphed into some other sort of Tessa who didn't have time to hang out at the library and make small talk. I had to keep up with work and my group of friends and the high standards Peter and I had as an up and coming, stylishly urban couple.

  I felt guilty when I moved back because I felt like such a different person and I didn't want people to know. I was embarrassed that I had lost touch with my roots. I was especially embarrassed because I used to have a really great friendship with the head librarian, Miss Jill. Back then, I thought she was just the greatest thing since sliced bread and honestly, I still thought that.

  As I walked through the front doors into the library building, I tried to push aside my feelings of guilt. The biggest reason I was there was so that I could ask about Charlie and Trevor. I needed to know about Trevor's alibi and if Charlie had been concerned about his debt for a while. After that, I could search for Miss Jill. My parents had seemed pleased when I asked, assuring me that Miss Jill still worked at the library and always asked for an update about me and my siblings.

  I pushed open the doors to the library. The adult library was one big room that was only broken up by furniture. To the left when you walk in is the checkout desk and to the right is the magazine section with a few tables and couches for people to sit at. Down the middle of the large room was a table of computers. They were smaller and more up to date than I remember the computers being and they seemed to be the only things that had changed in the library. The wall opposite the checkout desk was just a large wall of windows looking out on the lake with some chairs where people could relax and read a book while they took in the beautiful sight. Beyond that, the rest of the library was filled with shelves and shelves of books.

  When I was in middle school and finally old enough to check out some books from the adult library, I remember having no sense of how they were organized. I never asked either because I enjoyed the surprises I would get from finding cookbooks in one area and European history books not that far away. I would wander around until something caught my eye, not wanting to limit myself to only the areas I thought I was interested in.

  I was about to start strolling around on a book treasure hunt when I spotted Miss Jill behind the checkout desk. She was looking older than the last time I had seen her and her hair had turned from blond to gray, but she seemed to be around the same age as my parents. I was surprised to see her because when I was younger, she had always worked in the children's library. She seemed so out of place in the upstairs library.

  Miss Jill looked up from the computer and smiled at me. I was standing i
n the entryway, trying to figure out what to do first when a look of instant recognition spreading across her face.

  "Tessa Schmidt?" she said, phrasing it like a question but I knew she wasn't looking for an answer. "I'm so glad you finally came in. I've been waiting for you."

  I walked closer to the desk. Miss Jill was just as kind as she had always been and I felt silly for having been embarrassed. She wasn't chastising for my long absence, but seemed elated it had come to an end.

  "Hello Miss Jill," I said. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come in."

  "You can just call me Jill now," she said, smiling at me with a wink. "And you don't have to be sorry. I know everything you've been through. It is hard to adjust to a new routine. What brings you here today?"

  "I thought you worked in the children's library?" I asked. "I have a few questions for someone who works up here."

  "Well then you can talk to me," Miss Jill said with a twinkly laugh. "Once I started getting old, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up with the kids, so I moved up here and we hired a new, spry young lady to work downstairs. Are you going to ask about a book?"

  I paused, biting my lip. Would I seem gossipy if I asked her about Trevor and Charlie? Miss Jill had been like a mentor to me and I didn't want to let her down by flouncing in and demanding she gossip about townsfolk. I looked around the library while I thought, hoping she would think I was just surveying the library.

  "Are you here to ask about the murder?" Miss Jill said, dropping her voice to a whisper. She wiggled her eyebrows at me conspiratorially and somehow I just knew I could trust her. Maybe she'd have to be my Mandy right now since I couldn't talk to Mandy about Trevor being a suspect again.

  "Yes, actually, and if you are willing, I could really use your help," I said.

  "I can take my break now," she said. "Stay here and I'll go get someone to watch the desk."

  Miss Jill walked away and came back a moment later. She grabbed a small coin purse from under the desk and beckoned me to followed her. Together we walked out of the library and down a hallway that lead away from the library until we reached a little alcove with some vending machines that looked like they had been there for decades.

  "Here's a dollar," Miss Jill said, taking four quarters out of the small beaded bag and pressing them into my hand. "Get yourself a snack."

  I was going to refuse, but she gave me a look that told me I shouldn't even dare to try it. As I watched her get her own quarters out, I wondered where that look came from. It seemed to be naturally bestowed on mothers and teachers alike, but it had never been doled out to me. It was a bit of a bummer because it would really come in handy sometimes when I was questioning people about murder.

  Miss Jill's snacks fell into the bottom drawer of the vending machine and I smiled as she pulled a bag of gummy fruit snacks out. As I put my quarters in, she stepped to the ancient pop machine next to it and got a can of root beer to go with her gummies. I picked out a salty snack mix and pushed the corresponding buttons. The bag dropped down and after I grabbed it, we walked back out to the windows overlooking the lake. Whoever designed this building did a great job of making sure to take advantage of the view of the lake.

  I squeezed open the top of my bag of snack mix while Miss Jill opened her can of pop. We ate in silence for a moment while we watched some snow gently fall.

  "So what did you come here to ask me?" Miss Jill asked.

  "I actually have two different people to ask you about," I said, wiping the crumbs from my hands on my pants. "First, I wanted to confirm part of Trevor's alibi. He said he was here studying until the library closed."

  "He definitely was," Miss Jill said as she popped another fruit snack in her mouth. "He has been in here every afternoon for a month studying. I've been helping him by finding more resources and grading his practice tests. Trevor has come to a point in his life where he has realized he wants something more. He doesn't want to just work as a dispatcher for forty years before he retires. He wants a different job and a family."

  I started to think about Trevor and Mandy starting a family. I wondered if Mandy knew about that or if Trevor was waiting to tell her about that too. I stuck my hand back in the bag and realized I had eaten all of the crackers inside. The bag still had some crumbs in the bottom, so I put the corner up to my mouth and dumped it in, only thinking after the fact about how gross that must be for Miss Jill to watch an adult do.

  "Wow, I didn't know Trevor had that much ambition," I said.

  "I don't think Trevor knew either," Miss Jill said, her eyes shining. "So who was the other person you wanted to ask about?"

  "Charlie," I said. "I have some of his library books in my car and they were all about money. Did you help him with that at all?"

  Miss Jill sighed and turned back to the window. As she took a sip from her pop can, I could tell she was weighing something back and forth in her mind. I willed myself to stay quiet.

  "I did help him," she finally said. "The poor boy has quite a bit of debt and I gather that nobody really knew why. But he did confide in me and I'm going to tell you because I think it may change how you perceive him. Two years back Charlie was dating a girl from out of town. He decided to propose to her, so he bought a ridiculously big diamond ring for her. The girl took the ring and skipped town and Charlie was left in debt and broken hearted."

  I had been under the impression that Charlie's debt was due to bad decisions and while the gigantic ring obviously hadn't been a great choice, it did make me feel for him a bit more.

  "No one knows about it," Miss Jill said. She crumpled up her empty fruit snack bag and threw it into the trashcan sitting close by her chair. "Charlie was obviously embarrassed, but Rich was just about to open the Loony Bin and needed Charlie's help. So Charlie took the job even though it wasn't particularly well paying. He never told his father because he didn't want Rich to feel bad for him and his situation and he knew his father couldn't afford to hire too many people. So poor Charlie was stuck."

  What a terrible situation to be in. Stuck between familial duty and a rocky financial situation would not be a fun place to be. I understand now why Charlie was so antsy and why the money from the medallion hunt would have meant so much to him. It wouldn't have paid off his debt by a long shot, but it would have been a good sized payment.

  "I do think there is something else I should tell you," Miss Jill said, so quietly I almost couldn't hear her. She took a look around, but we were the only people around. "I know how Gerald was cheating."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I gulped hard. Maybe I had misheard her. I knew that Gerald always won and I had obviously heard the accusations that he was cheating, but there had never been any proof. Miss Jill took another sip of her root beer, her brown eyes searching my face.

  "You know how Gerald was cheating?" I said slowly, assuming I had misheard and she would correct me, but she nodded back at me.

  "I do know," she said. "And I'm sorry I didn't turn him in, but the prize money used to be so small that I didn't think it was worth a hullabaloo."

  "So how did he do it?" I asked.

  "Do you remember Hilda Foley?" Miss Jill asked. "She used to work here at the library and even after she retired, she still came here everyday to work on writing poetry and stories."

  I certainly remembered Hilda because she was hard to forget. Hilda was a tiny old woman who wore her long white hair braided in a gigantic bun on the top of her head. She wore the most colorful outfits that were somehow dated and classic all at once. You would think she had a giant, extroverted personality to match, but instead she was soft-spoken and seemed to let her appearance do the talking.

  "Hilda used to write the clues for the medallion hunt," Miss Jill continued. "You weren't around, but the clues used to be very poetic and tricky to boot. Now they are, well, I'll call them functional clues."

  "Why isn't Hilda writing them anymore?"

  "Hilda passed away last summer," Miss Jill said. She had a polite sort of
smile on her face, but her eyes were sad. "She was 98 and had lived a long, full life, so it wasn't a surprise, but I do miss her an awful lot."

  A wave of sadness washed over me as I thought about Peter and how his life had been cut so short. The grief seemed to come at unexpected times. I had imagined Peter and I growing old together and I couldn't help but wonder how long Peter would have lived without the accident.

  My breath caught in my throat as I willed myself not to cry. A warm, wrinkled hand gave my hand a squeeze as I shut my eyes.

  "It looks like you are missing someone also," Miss Jill said quietly. I couldn't open my eyes to look at her because I knew that if I did, the tears would come spilling out. "I know what it's like to lose a husband at a young age. It doesn't get easier, but it does become different."

  I tried to answer, but it was like I forgot how to make words. I had so many thoughts running through my head at once that it felt like a traffic jam in there.

  "Before I started working here at the library, I was married to Frank," Miss Jill said. "I lost him the same way you lost your Peter. And I still miss him every single day. But the further I get from the accident, the more precious the memories I have with him become. It gets easier and easier to look back on the memories with joy instead of sadness. And I'm here to tell you that it will work the same way with you."

  The tears that had been threatening to overflow broke through my eyelids and started to stream down my face. Miss Jill took a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to me before putting her arm around my shoulders and giving a quick squeeze. Only someone who had been in the same position as me can understand. I took great comfort in her words, hoping one day I'd be able to pass them along to someone else in need of them.