“We’ve all had horrible bosses,” Lucinda said. “I could tell you stories of things that happen in Hollywood that would curl your hair.” She glanced at my out-of-control mop of frizzy black curls and burst out laughing. “Bad joke. Sorry.”
“We’re not talking about Hollywood,” Mary-Sue snapped. “Although I thank you once again for reminding us that you work there.”
Lucinda glanced at me, lightly slapped her hand, and rolled her eyes. I pretended not to notice.
“Helena wasn’t so bad at first,” Mary-Sue said. “Tough, yes, but fair. I can’t say I ever liked her; she wasn’t one for getting on with the staff on a personal level, but she was an okay boss. Then, out of the blue, she turned on me. Come to think of it, she probably did me a favor. It was time to move on.” Judging by the expression on her face, even Mary-Sue didn’t believe that. “My colleagues said the place wasn’t the same without me. Helena must have needed me more than I knew. She went off the rails after I left, people said. The Lighthouse Library wasn’t a nice place to work anymore. I’m glad to hear it’s back the way I remember it, now Bertie’s in charge.”
Lucinda put her hand on top of mine. Her eyelashes fluttered and she stared deeply into my eyes. I shifted in my seat. “I hope you’re not making something out of nothing, Lucy. Helena hadn’t lived in Nags Head for a long time. She would have had time to make plenty more enemies since then. Someone must have followed her to the library and took the chance to rid themselves of her. Unpleasant, I know, but so is life sometimes.” She sighed theatrically and lifted the soda can to her mouth.
“I suppose.” I said nothing about the possible murder weapon—the letter opener removed from our display. “Did either of you ever meet her sister?”
Lucinda shook her head, and Mary-Sue said, “I didn’t know she had a sister.”
“Her name’s Tina Ledbetter. She lives in Nags Head.”
The women exchanged glances and then shook their heads again.
My luck might be in when it came to finding the people I wanted to talk to, but not as regards the information I needed. This was nothing but another wasted trip. I stood up. “Thank you for your time.”
“Time,” Lucinda said, “is about all I have right now, seeing as to how I’m stuck in this place. I told the cops I expect them to pay for my flight home. It costs a lot to rebook you know.” She glanced at big round clock on the wall. “It’s almost two. Wine time!”
Mary-Sue walked me to the door as Lucinda headed for the fridge.
“You really know nothing about when they’ll be allowed to leave?” Mary-Sue kept her voice low.
“Sorry, no.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can put up with her in my house. It’s bad enough having to listen to her brag about her Hollywood exploits and all the stars she’s best friends with, but she’s mistaken me for a hotel maid and my husband for her chauffer and wine supplier.” Mary-Sue tugged at her hair. “It’s a nightmare.”
“Why don’t you tell her to go to a hotel? The police won’t care—not if she lets them know where she’ll be.”
Mary-Sue looked shocked at the very idea. “I can’t do that, Lucy. She’s my friend. We were in college together. We roomed together one year. She came to my wedding. Despite her bragging, it’s obvious she can’t afford to go to a hotel.”
“Thanks for your time.”
“If you’re ever in the market for a home, you’ll think of me, right?”
I briefly considered mentioning to Mary-Sue that Tina was putting her house up for sale. Then I decided not to interfere. Mary-Sue might not care for Tina any more than she’d liked Helena.
“Sure,” I said.
Chapter Nineteen
I love my Lighthouse Aerie. I love the tiny apartment, I love the view, I love the lighthouse, and I love the commute.
But, as I’ve said, living above the library was erasing the boundaries between work and home, and that was probably not a good thing.
I wanted to stop worrying about Helena Sanchez and who’d killed her. I wanted to go home, grab my bathing suit and towel, and head to the beach to enjoy the rest of my day off. I could stop into Josie’s for a sandwich and a treat to take with me. I’d eat and swim and read and sunbathe.
I’ve been living in the Lighthouse Aerie for a year now. Maybe it would soon be time to start thinking about looking for a proper apartment.
Then again, maybe not. I did love my cozy apartment. It had the best view in the Outer Banks. Although the cell phone coverage could be a lot better.
I hoped I’d be able to sneak into the library, get upstairs, grab my stuff, and sneak out again.
Unfortunately, the Lighthouse Aerie doesn’t have its own entrance. I have to walk all the way through the main room to get to the stairs, then tiptoe past the children’s library and sneak by Charlene’s office on the third floor, all the while hoping no one will stop me with a question that has to be answered right now.
My aunt Ellen was at the circulation desk today, chatting to a group of women while she checked out their books. Charles perched on the returns cart, listening to the conversation. I caught something about the upcoming garden tour as I dashed past. Aunt Ellen gave me a wave, and Charles twitched one ear, but I didn’t stop. I hit the stairs and ran up. A babble of excited, high-pitched voices came from behind the door of the children’s library. I opened the gate, and took the next flight of
