Jane nearly spit out her food with outrage. 'NO!”
Several other diners turned to look at them.
“Yes,' Miss Winstead said softly. 'She lasted only a week longer. She'd simply lost her entire will to live.'
“How can you bear to be around the man?' Shelley asked.
“It's revenge, I'm afraid. I turn up every time he speaks anywhere in the area. I take notes and hunt down errors to correct the next time he speaks. I owe it to Edwina, poor dear girl, to avenge her. I remind him of her and his cruel treatment every time I show up. Merely by showing up. You must think I'm a real old harridan.'
“Not at all. If something like that happened to someone I loved, I'd hope I have the wit and ability to remind them for the rest of their miserable life,' Shelley said passionately.
Miss Winstead brightened up and said, 'Let's get the rest of our food.”
When they were seated again, Shelley asked, 'Do you know about the others in the class as well?'
“Some of them. Librarians often see only one side of patrons. The side that shows their private interests or their business needs. Ursula Appledorn is a frequent visitor. She apparently doesn't have a very good computer at home, or doesn't want to pay for a provider. She comes to the library to use ours and prints a lot of stuff out. Overall, it's more expensive for her to do it that way.'
“Conspiracy stuff?' Jane asked. 'Has she told you about the Denver airport?'
“Endlessly,' Miss Winstead said. 'It's her favorite one. The actual books she takes out on loan are usually about herbal cures, gardening, or dogs, and for fiction, she reads romances.'
“Romances? That doesn't seem in character, somehow.”
Miss Winstead shrugged. 'Few people are really as one-sided as you think on slight acquaintance, I guess.'
“What does she live on?' Shelley asked. 'Does she have a job?'
“I have no idea,' Miss Winstead said.
“Maybe she still baby-sits the elderly,' Jane contributed. 'And she said something about one of her old ladies leaving her a legacy. Maybe it was a really big one.'
“What about Arnold Waring?' Shelley moved down the list.
“I don't know much about him. His wife was a dear, helpless little woman who came to the library at least once a week. She read practically every mystery story that came in. She especially liked anything to do with firefighters.'
“why?' 'Her husband had been one before he retired.
They had no children, she said, and really appeared to live for each other. He'd drive her every week, would carry her books she was returning, and stand by the door to wait, and carry the new ones out. As if she were a delicate flower who couldn't carry them herself. It really was nice. Such a surly-looking, hulking man, taking such good care of his wife.'
“When did she die? He mentioned her in class in the past tense,' Jane said.
Miss Winstead thought for a while. 'Maybe five years ago. Possibly four. I imagine he was devastated.'
“And Stefan Eckert?' Jane asked.
“I know very little about him, although we've worked together over the years. He's an assistant to the man who runs the community relations at the junior college, and always full of ideas to pull the public into taking an interest and supporting the school. He often consults with me when he bags a big name, so the librarycan get the author's books in before the activity.
Jane said, 'He told us he was the head of community relations.'
“Wishful thinking, perhaps,' Miss Winstead said.
“You sound a bit like you're damning with faint praise,' Shelley said.
“I must be more transparent than I thought,' Miss Winstead said with a chagrined smile. 'Ste-fan's charming, but can be a bit aggressive about soliciting funds and grants. But he gets speakers for next to nothing that other, richer schools can't get to speak. I shouldn't say this, but I don't think Stefan is above a couple little white lies if it suits his aim. Ms. Jackson was one of the speakers he got, and I've tried to get her to speak at the library many times and she always said she didn't feel comfortable giving talks. But he got around her somehow. It's a pity she was injured. I was looking forward to hearing about her job.'
“Do you know anything about Julie Jackson's life?' Jane asked.
“I see notices in the paper about high-society fund-raising parties, and she is always there on the arm of some rich, eligible man. Always a different one. I suppose it's because it's the 'done thing' in those circles to have an escort.'
“Do you know anything about the investigation of the attack on her?' Shelley asked.
“Not a thing. It seems to me an example of a random act of violence.”
Jane and Shelley exchanged looks. When Jane nodded, Shelley said, 'I'm not sure how much you know about the attack. There are aspects of it that weren't in the papers. The person who attacked her came through the house, where there were plenty of things to steal, but took nothing, and went straight to the basement she had set up as an office.”
Miss Winstead thought this over and said, 'That's very peculiar, isn't it? If it was a robbery, why go straight to the basement? Did she have a safe or something down there that a repair person might know about?'
“We don't know,' Jane said. 'But the man I date is the investigating officer and he didn't mention a safe. I would think if there was one, he would probably have mentioned it.”
Miss Winstead frowned for a long moment, then said, 'You don't think… No, of course not…'
“What?' Jane and Shelley said in unison.
“No, it's absurd. But I just wondered if it might have anything to do with her being scheduled to teach this class.'
“How could it?' Shelley asked.
Miss Winstead shrugged elegantly. 'I don't know. It just popped into my mind because you were asking me about the people in the class.”
Jane and Shelley both looked stunned. 'I suppose in the back of my mind, I
“You think she might be in a position to reveal something about one of them?' Shelley asked.
Jane said, 'Maybe. But what could that be? And why wouldn't she sort it out with the person in private instead of in front of witnesses? No, I don't think that would fly.'
“But none of us know her personally,' Miss Winstead said primly. 'I think it's rash to make assumptions. It just as well could be that one of the escorts took himself too seriously, and she rejected him. A crime of passion that has nothing to do with her job.”
The younger women felt like they'd been put in their place, and Jane reverted to what little she knew of the investigation. 'Mel, that's the man I know who's the investigating detective, says it was a violent attack, and appeared that the attacker might not have expected her to be there.'
“How on earth did he come to that conclusion?' Miss Winstead said with an air of criticism.
“Only because Geneva Jackson left the house with her husband earlier. The sisters look so much alike that the attacker, if he was watching the house, could have mistaken Geneva for Julie. It's only one theory,' Jane said, feeling she had to defend Mel's thinking now that she had stupidly given away something she shouldn't have.
Miss Winstead nodded. 'I suppose that does make sense. Who reported the attack?'
“I assume Geneva or her husband,' Jane said. 'They came home and found her injured, I suppose. They were at the house, anyway, when we got there with the misdirected flower arrangement.'
“Jane, would you let me know what you learn of the investigation?' Miss Winstead asked.
That put Jane on the spot. She was already feeling like she'd dishonored Mel's confidences and shouldn't say any more.
“I doubt I'll be told any more about the investigation,' she fudged. 'Mel only mentioned the one idea because he was visiting me a couple hours later to see how badly I'd hurt my foot. Sort of thinking out loud, you know.'
“I understand,' Miss Winstead said rather formally. Jane was afraid the older woman understood all too well and was insulted.
The moment passed quickly, however, as there was a sudden bolt of lightning and the sound of a hard rain
