“Good.” Butch resumed his post against the wall. “Lucy, I’m particularly interested in the character of Sergeant Cuff. He doesn’t come into the story until it’s well underway. How does everyone feel about that? Would you like him to have made an appearance earlier, maybe learn more about him? We don’t know anything at all about his personal life, do we?”
“Uh,” I said. “Yes. Good question, Butch. You did read the book.”
“Of course I did,” he said. “I always do.”
Annalise and her companion were embarrassed into silence and the meeting continued along the lines I’d hoped for. Bertie and her friends seemed to enjoy the discussion. Ruth in particular had an in-depth knowledge of not only the book itself but the work of Wilkie Collins and his friends and contemporaries. I gratefully gave up leading the conversation and settled back to learn something.
“And then it turns out that Godfrey Ablewhite—” Mrs. Fitzgerald said.
Annalise sat to attention. “There’s a character in the book named Jeff Applewhite? Surely not?”
I refrained from pointing out that Annalise had earlier claimed to be a big fan of the book. “Not Applewhite, but Ablewhite. And not Jeffrey, but Godfrey. The similarity is nothing but a minor coincidence.”
“Heck of a coincidence,” Annalise whispered to her black-haired friend.
Butch cleared his throat, and Annalise said no more. Before much longer, she nudged her companion and said, “Oh my goodness, I forgot a prior appointment. We have to go, so sorry.” They jumped up, and I said, “I’ll walk down with you and let you out.”
“No need,” Annalise said. “We can find our way.”
I smiled at them. “No trouble.”
The meeting broke up shortly before nine. People grabbed their bags and left, chatting excitedly about the book. I heard several say they wanted to try Collins’s other famous book, The Woman in White, next.
“Nice job, Butch,” Bertie said.
“I thought Lucy could use a hand,” he said with a shy smile.
“You were a lifesaver,” I said.
“Normally, I’m not in favor of the police threatening to arrest people for noncriminal activity,” Steph said, “but I’ll make an exception this one time.”
We all laughed.
“Anyone for a drink?” Lucinda said. “All this book talk has made me thirsty.”
“Sure,” Ruth said, “but I need more than a drink. We didn’t have dinner. How about that place we went Saturday night?”
“I’m good with that,” Sheila said. “Ruth and I came with Louise Jane. Would you like to join us?”
“Sure,” Louise Jane said.
“Bertie?”
“Not me, thanks. I’ll drop you off at the restaurant, and you can catch a cab back to Mary-Sue’s place. Is that okay?”
“A cab?” Lucinda said. “How much is that likely to cost?”
“I’ll get my husband to come for us,” Mary-Sue said.
“If he’s sober,” Lucinda mumbled.
“What was that, dear?” Mary-Sue said. “I missed it.”
Lucinda gave her a radiant smile. “I said that would be nice of him.”
Josie caught my eye and waggled her eyebrows. Butch and Steph stacked the chairs while Theodore collected empty dessert platters and carried them downstairs. Soon everyone had left the meeting room except for my cousin and me. We gathered the last of the glasses and the crumpled napkins and walked downstairs together as Charles ran on ahead, showing off his balancing prowess on the railings.
“I was sorry not to see Connor tonight,” Josie said.
“He had a dinner meeting with some business group, which was called at the last minute, and he couldn’t get out of it.”
“How’s everything going on that front?”
“Fine. Everything’s going fine.”
“Any updates you want to tell me about?”
I looked at her. “Updates? What sort of updates?”
“You two have been going out for almost a year now. It’s none of my business, but I’m wondering if you’re thinking of moving things up a level.”
“Up a level?”
“Stop repeating everything I say.”
“Repeating everything you say? I’m not.”
She burst out laughing and I joined in. “If there’s anything to tell, Josie, you’ll be the first to hear, I promise.”
We hugged goodnight at the door, and I made sure to lock up behind her. I turned off the main lights and made my way in the near dark to the alcove to switch on the light that would be left on all night. The police had returned most of the items from Charlene’s and my historical display, and we’d reassembled it so our patrons could admire it. Some of the teenagers and kids were amazed that we’d been able to keep track of anything in those long-gone days BI—before internet.
I reached for the light switch. Charles vaulted onto the table and meowed at me. “It was a good night,” I said. “I enjoyed the meeting once we finally got around to talking about the book. Butch put the fear of the law into anyone who’d come for no reason but to get the gossip.”
Charles whined again.
I walked across the floor, heading for the stairs. It had been a good night—book club usually was—and I was ready for my bed. Charles did not follow. “Are you coming?” I said.
He sat down next to the pile of old books and studied me with his intense amber eyes.
“Bedtime,” I said. “Yes, I know it’s not even nine thirty yet, but I’m bushed.”
He didn’t move.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I went back to the table and reached for him. As I picked him up, I glanced at the books.
The Celestine Prophecy was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
I couldn’t be absolutely sure the book had been on the display table in the alcove when book club began. I’d stood at the door to greet our guests and then gone straight upstairs to start the meeting. I hadn’t come into the alcove.
Someone might have taken the book out earlier, thinking it was available for circulation. But that book was no longer in our catalogue system; they wouldn’t have been
