Rick was the first one called, whether auto, equipment, or guns, he could fix it all.
“Sheriff, I was a thinking, ever since I stepped into that living room that I had seen something like that before, you know like a copycat. It ate at me most of the night and I asked my sweetheart about it and she pegged it right away, The Manson Family out there in California ‘bout 40 years ago. You remember, the Helter Skelter stuff, they made a movie and there was a book I believe. Anyway, after they killed those people they wrote stuff on the walls in their blood. Now that’s not that strange, we’ve seen that even here in Valdosta, but the thing that put it together for me was the furniture. Something about that bugged me, so I got online today and did some research and they did that too. The Manson Family used to go out at night and break into people’s homes and move their furniture around, not for any other reason than to just freak them out when they woke up. Just like our perp is doing here, don’t you think? They called it ‘Creepy Crawling’, kind of gives me the creeps just thinking about it,” Rick explained before moving to the back of the room and out of the limelight.
“Good work, Rick. Will you further that idea of the ‘Creepy Crawling’ and see if there is anything more we need to know about that and any connection we might have to this Manson Family? I’m not aware of any followers living here but let’s be sure. Okay people look sharp; let’s get ‘er done,” the Sheriff concluded, returning to his office, picking up a fresh cup of coffee on the way.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mr. Marcus greeted Blanche the morning after her conversation with Holly, as he raked up some leaves, scattered about on the grass in the front of the library, “How’s my girl this mornin’?” He stood the rake up next to himself using it as a brace to support his weight while he talked with Blanche, the handle nearly as tall as the small grounds keeper.
“I’m good, really good, thanks for asking. Looks like another beautiful day in store for us. You got lots to do outside today I hope?” her polite nature coming through with her inquiry.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find enough to keep me busy out here until it rains this afternoon, then I’ll move indoors to pester you for awhile,” he said, smiling broadly.
“Sounds good to me. We should have lunch together; did your wife fix you something?”
“Yes sirree. It’s a date then, I’ll swing by the desk around noon,” Marcus indicated, putting the rake back to the ground.
“Nothing like a lunch with my favorite man,” she joked, as she bounded up the stairs to the main doors. “See you then. Have a good morning.”
Mrs. Anderson met her at the main desk, date stamp in hand, anxiously engaged in organizing the materials in front of her. “Blanche, good morning, you look lovely this morning, thank you for toning down the ah, headlights.” Referring to her bust and the outfit she’d worn the other day that had garnered too much attention, according to the director. However, and not a coincidence she was sure, they had accumulated the most single day donations the library had ever seen, that day.
“Thanks and you’re welcome,” the younger librarian said, smiling.
“Take a minute to put your things away then I’ll turn the desk over to you. I’ll be in the museum archives most of the day in case you need me and just have one of the volunteers man the desk while you take your lunch.” The director went back to her stamping and shuffling allowing Blanche the few minutes she needed to get settled.
Back at the desk with her ‘now’, ‘night’ and ‘never’ boxes in front of her, she laid out her plans for the workday. With a few weeks behind her and her responsibilities well under control, the young librarian found that her work days just sort of glided by, very few hiccups from day to day except for the occasional drunk that would stumble in looking for a bathroom or the kids that often got too rambunctious. Just before noon, and her date with Marcus, the phone rang.
“Good morning, Valdosta Public Library, how may I help you?” she said, very professionally into the phone.
“Hey Ms. Delaney, this is Seymour. My mom said you tried to get a hold of me last night. Sorry I missed your call, why didn’t you try my cell?” he said, his Adam's Apple in the back of his throat.
“Oh, I didn’t want to bother you if you were out with friends and it wasn’t that important anyway. We just were thinking of adding some more nights to the schedule with school starting soon and wondered if you’d be interested in some more shifts,” she scrambled to think of a plausible reason for her call the night before. It was not totally untrue, they had discussed the possibility of the extra nights, as long as they could get proper staffing.
“I see,” he said, somewhat disappointed, then after a moment of consideration continued, “Who would I be working with, are you taking the extra late shifts as well?”
“I’m sure I’ll have to do my fair share, why?” she inquired, already knowing the answer.
“Okay, I could use the extra cash and if it means more shifts working with you then I’m up for that. Just let me know so I can make sure it doesn’t conflict with my upcoming class schedule. While I’ve got you, did you see all the police activity yesterday?” he said, all the more excited about the prospect of working with, and hanging out more, with his new found crush.
“Yeah, yesterday morning right? I never did hear anything about it though. Why, what’s up?” Blanche spoke in hushed tones as to not bother those reading at the tables nearby.
“The Sheriff’s Department is running the investigation so I guess there was another break in like the Riddle woman a couple weeks ago. Remember, the one with the guy in the underwear?”
“I remember. Did anybody get hurt and where was it?” she strained to hear the somewhat poor connection.
“There was a press conference this morning but they didn’t release any details, but it sounds like a real crime wave has hit Valdosta. Do you think we could have a serial ‘something’ living here?” Seymour did his best to contain his enthusiasm.
“You almost sound glad that this is happening. That scares me a little bit. What if somebody gets hurt?” Blanche said, a concerned inflection to her hushed voice.
“I’m not glad but with the stuff we’ve been talking about lately in class, it’s weird that we’d have a deviant starting to do some of the same things here, that we’ve studied, that’s all. I hope nobody gets hurt too. Worries me when I’m at school and my mom is home alone. Anyway, I’m anxious to hand in my project today, you know, the one you helped me with the other night? It’s due this afternoon and I think we did pretty well on it. Maybe when I’m done today, I’ll swing by the library and update you on what’s going on, that is if you’re interested,” he coyly asked.
“That would be fine. I’ll be here all day, but I’ve got something tonight so I have to be sure to leave on time.”
He was dying to ask what it was she had that evening but didn’t want to pry or sound possessive, so he let it drop. If she wanted to tell him, it would come out, especially if she’d started dating someone.
“K, well have a good day and I’ll maybe see you later,” he said, snapping his phone shut.
The balance of the day passed quickly. Her lunch with Marcus was fun as usual, she loved the back and forth jabs and the lighthearted conversations that helped to pass the time when he was around. By 3:00 p.m. she had cleared her boxes of the items contained therein and was looking for things to do, when a man, approximately her own age, came to the front desk and asked her where he might find some information on ‘Voodoo’ and the ‘Occult’. She couldn’t remember the last time that she’d had to find such material and it took her a few minutes to wrap her librarian brain around the request, before sending him in the desired direction.
“Well, that's a tough one. Can’t say I’ve done much reading myself on those subjects so give me a minute and let me look through the electronic catalog,” she said, keeping a very courteous and professional lilt to her voice.
“No problem. I’m in no rush take your time. I’ll just hang out here while you look.” He was attractive, in a unique sort of way; Blanche had thought when she’d first seen him from her desk. It looked like he’d just gotten a haircut, his dark hair trimmed above his ears with slight bangs and no sideburns. He was clean-shaven, wore no spectacles, was thin faced and she could tell, under his form fitting shirt and shorts that he was in remarkable shape. There was a moment when she had first looked into his eyes, a sense of acknowledgement, almost
