“If you mean he didn’t fall dramatically on the floor and clutch his pearls, that kind of took it like a champ? Then yes. He took it like a champ, but he was a little peeved with me for not bringing him along. But honestly, I didn’t know what was going on until I got to the hospital, and they didn’t tell me because they didn’t want me driving over in hysterics.”
Hobbs gripped the steering wheel. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have gone with you, Hal.”
“You’re very sweet, but it was pretty late. And I know you’re a night owl, but are you a three-thirty-in-the-morning kind of night owl?”
He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. “Sometimes.”
Tucking my hands in my lap, I shook my head. “Either way, I didn’t want to take a chance on waking you. However, it inspired me to try harder to figure this out. Even if it means being pushy. Whoever did this wants my Uncle Monty dead, because they think he knows something.”
As Hobbs drove into the quaint town of Chester Bay, he nodded his agreement. “I’m all for pushy if need be. Now, there’s only one library here, you said?”
“Right, and according to GPS, it’s three lights into town and a right on Fig Road.”
As he looked around, getting his first glimpse of Chester Bay and its cute stores, decorated for Christmas, he said, “It’s pretty here, but not as pretty as Marshmallow Hollow.”
I looked at the charming stores lining their Main Street and had to agree, it was pretty, with the ocean to the left of us and a lighthouse off in the distance. But they didn’t decorate the way we did.
“Really, what is as pretty as Marshmallow Hollow at Christmastime—or any time, truthfully?” I asked as he made the right onto Fig Road.
When he turned into the library, a cute little red and white box with ample parking, I sucked in a breath. I found myself a little nervous.
Pulling into a space and putting his Jeep in park, Hobbs reached for my hand. “We’re just going to ask some questions.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go ask some questions.”
Popping open our doors, we hopped out and met at the front of his Jeep, making our way across the snowy parking lot and up the stairs to the heavy wooden double doors boasting a cute Christmas wreath.
It was intensely quiet inside, making me feel guilty for buying most of my reading material online. I remember when visiting the library was a sacred event for me. I adored going to mine in school on my lunch breaks when I was a kid. I loved the scent of old books, the feel of them in my hands, and right then and there, I made a promise to visit Marshmallow Hollow’s library more often for my romance novel fixes.
There were a few people scattered amongst the long beige tables and row of computers, with shelf after shelf of books behind them. The carpeting was worn and bland, but the walls held pictures of scenic Chester Bay and some general who’d lived here. Tinsel hung from the front of each aisle of books and there was a display of homemade ornaments, proudly hanging on a tree on the opposite end of the room.
The aisles held only one very serious-looking woman, and another with a pink mohawk and heavy makeup.
As we approached on quiet feet, I smiled at the older woman with a severe gray crewcut, a pencil slim skirt, and prim sweater, and held out my hand. “Hello, I’m Halliday Valentine.”
She visibly cringed, backing away. “I don’t shake hands. How do I know where your hands have been?”
The girl with the pink mohawk, wearing a T-shirt with the name of a band I didn’t recognize on it, rolled her eyes and nudged her. “Jeez, Millie, it’s a hand, not a used condom.”
I heard Hobbs muffle a snort from behind me and I had to fight a laugh, too, but then I remembered why I was here.
Tucking my hand inside my jacket, I said, “Anyway, I’m Halliday Valentine, and this is Hobbs Dainty. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
Millie gave me a severe look, her already thin lips thinning further. “What’s the question?”
I briefly explained my Uncle Monty’s situation and the deal with Kerry Carver, and Millie’s overplucked eyebrows rose. “It was all over the news today. How horrible for Kerry and her parents.”
“Yeah,” the girl with the pink mohawk agreed. “She was always pretty nice. I hope she’s gonna be okay. I’m Solange, by the way.”
“We do, too,” I assured her. “But here’s my question. Do you ever remember her coming in here with anyone? Specifically, a man in a hoodie?”
“Kerry Carver with a man?” Millie asked, as if it were a surprise she’d even consider men. “No, never. Why would you ask such a thing? She came in to study—strictly. She was destined for an Ivy League school, not a man.”
You’d think I’d asked if she’d come in with a three-eyed monster by the way Millie choked in distaste on the word man. I didn’t bother to explain to Millie why even someone with a little sense would guess a man had beaten Kerry half to death, and that was why I’d asked.
“Then how about this—did you ever see her with anyone at all? Did she ever seem upset?”
The girl with the pink mohawk and bright eyes said, “I did. I saw her with someone. Just once.”
Aha.
Now we were getting somewhere.
Chapter 16
Hard Candy Christmas
Written by, Carol Hall 1982
“Can you tell us what he looked like?” Hobbs asked, leaning against the shelf of modern history books.
“I didn’t see what he looked like,” she hastened to add. “I was putting books back and I happened to see her sitting at one of the tables with a guy with a hoodie on, but his back was to me. Their heads were pressed together like they had some big secret, but I didn’t see his face. When you said hoodie, it sorta clicked.”
My palms grew damp and sweaty. “Here’s a crazy question, but it’s pertinent, so bear with me. Did you smell smoke? Like, cigarette smoke?”
“There’s no smoking in the library,” Millie said crossly.
I wrestled with my patience. “I realize that, Millie. But that doesn’t mean you can’t smell a smoker. Some people are quite sensitive to it. As an example, my uncle is very sensitive to the smell with even just a hint of it.”
But Solange shook her head. “He was sort of far away, so I didn’t smell anything.”
“And how do you know it was Kerry with this man?” Hobbs asked.
“I’d know her laugh anywhere. It’s kind of light and tinkling. Like a fairy, ya know? Plus, she was always in here, like Millie said, studying.”
I gulped, my throat tight. “So you didn’t see his face, but you did see his hoodie, right?”
“Yep,” she said with a cluck of her tongue. “He had on a University of Virginia hoodie. I noticed it because it’s my dad’s alma mater. He played college ball there.”
A fizzle of hope bubbled in my stomach. “Can you remember anything else about him? Anything that might be important?”
She rocked back on her high-top sneakers. “I wish I could help you—for Kerry’s sake—but that’s all I remember.”