“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” She gives me another forced smile.
“Well … I’ll head over to the main desk,” I tell her.
“Would you mind opening up the doors for me?” she asks before I leave.
“Of course.”
“Let me just get you the keys.”
I wait while she rummages around in her bag before she finds them and holds them out for me to take.
“Don’t worry about bringing them back, just leave them in the drawer under the counter. I’ll get them later.”
“Will do.” I take the keys from her outstretched hand and then make my way through the library to open up.
I feel bad for bringing Margaret down just then. But it’s not long before my thoughts are back to Jack, and I’m smiling again.
But my happy bubble doesn’t last for long when Detectives Sparks and Peters walk through the doors of the library only minutes after I unlocked them.
The computer we use to check out books hasn’t even had a chance to fire up when they come strolling in.
I put the keys in the drawer, like Margaret asked me to, and wait for the detectives to approach.
I start to feel a nervous, jittery sensation in my body. Worrying that they know who I really am. What my past is.
“Good morning,” I say to them when they reach the desk.
The library is empty, except for me and the detectives.
Our other staff member, Derek, is in the upstairs stacks, putting yesterday’s returned books away.
“Audrey Hayes,” Detective Sparks says my name. There is an edge to his tone that I don’t like. “We’re here to speak with your boss. Is she here?”
“I’m here,” Margaret says, coming up behind me. “Do you have news of Mike?” she asks them.
“Can we talk somewhere private?” Detective Peters says.
“We can talk here. As you can see, there is only us here.”
Detective Sparks’s eyes flicker to me.
“I can leave you alone.” I go to move, but Margaret stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Stay. Please, Detectives, can you tell us what is going on?”
“We recovered a male body late last night, which we identified through dental records as Michael King.”
Margaret gasps next to me, covering her mouth with her hand. I’m just standing here, not knowing how to react. What to do.
Hearing about death is not new to me.
“Ho-how did he die?” Margaret asks.
“We can’t determine cause of death until the autopsy is done. I hate to ask … but we have been unable to locate a next of kin. Do you know anything of Michael’s family?”
Margaret shakes her head. “He didn’t have one. He came from foster care. His parents died when he was young. No other family. I think he was close to one of his foster parents. I’m not sure of her name though …” She’s shaking her head, clearly distressed.
“Don’t worry. We can locate his details through the local foster agencies now that we know that is where we need to be looking,” Detective Peters says.
I can feel eyes watching me. Detective Sparks is just staring at me.
It’s unnerving as hell.
I look away, turning to Margaret, giving him the side of my head.
Her eyes are wet with tears. She gets a tissue from her pocket, dabbing at her eyes.
“I just can’t believe it,” Margaret says.
I put my arm around her. It seems like the right thing to do. “I know; it’s awful,” I say to her.
“Do you know if there is any connection between whoever killed Mike and the person who killed Sarah?” Margaret says.
“We’re not at liberty to say,” Detective Peters says. “We are sorry to be the ones to deliver this news and also for your loss. We’ll be on our way now. But if you think of anything that could be important—”
“I’ll call you,” Margaret assures the detective.
“And you too,” I hear Detective Sparks say, and I turn my eyes to meet his. “The same applies to you, Miss Hayes. If you think of anything that could help us in relation to this case or the death of Sarah Greenwood, then make sure you call us.”
I hold his eyes and nod. “Of course.”
I watch the detectives leave, a queasy feeling in my stomach.
I hear Margaret sniffling, pulling my attention back to her.
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she says. “I know we weren’t super close, but it’s still so hard to hear.”
“I know,” I say, trying to comfort her. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and go home? I’ll hold down the fort here.”
Her gaze meets with mine. I feel a pang of sympathy at the tears in her eyes. She is such a kind person.
“Yes, I might do that. Thank you, Audrey.” She pats my arm with her hand. “You still have the keys to lock up later?”
“They’re in the drawer,” I tell her. “I can bring them by your house on my way home—”
“Not necessary.” She waves me off. “I have a spare set at home. Take the keys home with you and then just bring them back in the morning.”
“Okay,” I respond.
She gives me another sad smile. “Well, I’ll just grab my purse, and then I’ll be off.”
“Don’t worry about anything here. I’ll be fine.”
Another smile, this one a little brighter. “I know. Thanks again, Audrey.”
Jack walks into the library fifteen minutes later. His laptop bag over his shoulder, two coffees in his hand.
His eyes seek me out, and a big smile lights up his face.
I love that I bring that smile to his lips.
He walks over to the reception desk.
“Hey.” He sets one of the coffees down on the counter for me. “I brought you a coffee.”
“I need it. Thanks.”
“Rough day already?” he teases. “It’s only been forty minutes.”
A lot can happen in forty minutes.
“The police were here a bit ago. Mike … they found his body. He’s dead.”
“Jesus,” Jack breathes.
