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Friday morning, the shop was quiet, so Rarity decided to look into the charities that Ruth Agee had been planning to leave her money to, at least before she met William and changed the will. Will got named in the will . Okay, she was tired and a little rummy. She and Archer had talked for a long time before she’d gotten to bed. His dad was worse. Dana wasn’t handling it well, and Archer was trying to be the strong one. Drew had come over to his dad’s apartment with the book that had been sent to Rarity. It didn’t match the description from the insurance claim that was filed at the time o f the robbery.

“The problem is,” Archer had told her before they hung up, “I remember that specific book. I wrote my name on the last page like the other one. I wanted to get the book if anything happened to Grandma, so I guess I was staking my claim. Dana might not want it if my name was in the book.”

“And is your name there?” Rarity thought Archer had a habit of writing his name in books. She’d sat up in bed when she’d asked, disturbing Killer, who gave her a look before curling up on the other side of the bed, away from her.

“No, but there’s a page missing in the back.” He paused. “Look, I know this sounds crazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s Grandma’s book. It’s not as valuable as the one that Dad listed on the insu rance papers.”

They’d said good night soon after, but the question of the book stayed in Rarity’s head for a long while afterward. Had Archer’s dad lied on the insurance claim to get a bigger payout?

Not her circus, nor was it her monkey. Yet the question still haunted her the next morning.

Jonathon had texted to say he’d be late coming by to write. He was meeting one of his friends from the Flagstaff writing group. Katie was scheduled to come in at one, and Shirley had scheduled to work from home to get ready for tomorrow’s middle-grade book club. So unless she got customers, Rarity was alone in the bookstore.

Well, with a sleeping Killer on his bed by the fireplace.

Holly had sent everyone a copy of the distribution of Ruth’s estate that had been filed by the probate court. Rarity printed a copy for her murder book and then used the list to look up the charities on the internet.

The first one was a local division of a well-known cancer research charity. It had a high-end website that its national support team must have made for it. The local board had several people from the hospital and a local doctor that Rarity knew but didn’t care for much. She thought he was in the field more for the glory than helping his patients. She wrote down the six board members and the administrative assistant’s names as well as their contact information. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d ask; maybe she’d pretend to be gathering information for her mom to help her distribute her assets. She’d figure that one out before sh e made a call.

So then she did the same for the other charities listed. Ruth had shorted each of them the same percentage to get the money to give to William. Maybe she hadn’t been quite the easy mark he’d assumed. He’d gotten a six-figure check last month. What had he done with the money? That was a question for Drew. She wrote it on a separate page.

As she got to the last charity, her stomach rumbled. She could call in a delivery order and send Katie to get it. She texted her, hoping that she wasn’t on the road. Rarity wasn’t sure if Katie’s older car had hands-free capability, but if she hadn’t eaten, Rarity would buy her lunch too. She got a quick text back, telling her to call in the order and Katie would be in town in thirty minutes. A second text listed off what Katie wanted, a fish tacos plate. Rarity would have ordered that for her employee if she hadn’t responded. Katie ate a lot of fish tacos. Rarity got on the website and ordered their lunches along with a bag of chi ps with queso.

She and Killer were going to a quilt fair in Flagstaff tomorrow afternoon. She’d be here at the shop until Shirley’s book club was over, and if traffic slowed after that, she’d head to Flagstaff. If not, they’d go on Sunday.

She had a plan to be a fun version of Rarity, no matter if she had a guy hanging around to approve or not. Besides, even if Archer was available, he hated craft shows. She found that out when they’d walked through the county fair building last summer. She wanted to see the jars of canned peaches and jelly along with the home arts stuff. He’d wanted to see th e animal barn.

She went back to finish listing off the board members and administrative assistant for the last charity and found a name she hadn’t expected. Sedona Memory Keepers was an independent charity started by the woman who still ran the charity, at least part-time. Rarity stared at the picture of Marsha Graves o n the website.

She clicked on the About Us tab and read about how Marsha’s mom had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Marsha had realized how little money people who were helped by the state got to keep. The charity sponsored craft projects, snacks, a van for outings, and other things that weren’t covered by their payment to their care facility o r by Medicaid.

Marsha had lost a portion of their gift from Ruth Agee to a man she didn’t like and who had wound up dead. Marsha had even told Shirley and Rarity about his issues. That he’d been fired for inappropriate relations with a resident. Was she trying to throw a smoke screen o ver her guilt?

Before she could do more research, Katie and Jonathon came in the front door, chatting. “We come bearing food. Manna from heaven, to use a season-appropriate phrase.” Jonathon held up the bag. “I was in the Garnet getting my lunch when I ran into Katie. We’re going to have double chips and queso since I ordered some too. Great m inds and all.”

Rarity cleared off the table in the back and then went to put up the “Closed for Lunch” sign she rarely used. Friday was a good enough reason to take a little time to eat with friends and catch up on what was going on.

* * *

Saturday afternoon, the bookstore was slowing down enough for Rarity to consider taking off for the quilt show. Jonathon had come in to work and had hidden back in the break room during the book club. Now that it was over, and the kids had dispersed, he was in his normal writing spot.

“I have to say, the noise level didn’t hurt my word count as much as I’d assumed it would.” He had gone back to refill his coffee cup and was now leaning on the counter with Rarity. “It’s like having the television on at home when Edith’s out. I don’t want to be talked to or entertained, but I don’t want to be alone.”

“Well, I think Killer and I are taking some me time and running to Flagstaff to see the quilt show.” Rarity focused on Shirley, who was restocking next month’s book club book on the shelf by the register. They kept extra copies for all the book clubs as well as a flyer with the yearly schedule and club picks on a shelf near the checkout. Rarity liked to think of it as an impulse shelf. You didn’t have to attend the club to read the book your friends wer e all reading.

“Go ahead and leave. I’ll be here until closing and then I’m running over to see George. Now that he’s been cleared of hurting William, he’s being moved back to his prior room. I’m sure Lizzy won’t like me there, but I’m his w ife. Not her.”

Jonathon and Rarity shared a look.

Shirley must have seen it, because she laughed. “I know, it’s complicated. And I’m not jealous of Lizzy. But I’ve loved George since we were kids. That’s not going to change because he doesn’t remember our vows. And he’s been a little under the weather, so I ’m concerned.”

“I hope he’s doing all right.” Rarity closed her laptop and tucked it into her tote bag. She didn’t add what she wanted to say— I hope he recognizes you. “Katie, are you wo rking Monday?”

Katie had come over from the shelves where she’d been adding new books. “I’ll be here at noon. I’m bringing my laptop to work on a paper, in case we get slow.”

“I can work for you if you need to do schoolwork.” Shirley turned toward Katie. “I’ll probably be baki ng if I don’t.”

“It’s fine. I like working here when it’s quiet.” Katie grabbed another stack of books to shelve. “Besides, with all the rare books showing up lately, shelving and cleaning the store is like being on an Easter egg hunt. You never know what you’re g oing to find.”

“Well, there’s only one more book on the Enders’ stolen book list, and that’s a first-edition Nancy Drew. Archer is convinced that the last book was in his grandmother’s library. Well, unless the books are showing up for a different reason.” Jonathon adjusted his laptop screen. “At this point, I think the thieves are on a restitution tour. Trying to get the books returned before Archer’s dad leave s this world.”

Rarity needed to think about that theory. Was someone who had been involved in the death of Marilyn Ender trying to make things right with the family before it was too late? Who knew about Archer’s dad being sick? Archer hadn’t shared much with Rarity; he’d been trying to handle everythi ng on his own.

And she still didn’t know who killed William Jully. She would run the idea of Marsha Graves and her charity by the sleuthing group on Tuesday night. She didn’t want to kick the idea up to Drew unless they thought it might be a motive too. Would someone kill a rival over an inheritance? Money makes people do a lot o f crazy things.

She said goodbye and then walked home to get her car. She didn’t mind the stroll, and it would give Killer a little more exercise before being tucked into the front seat of the car while she drove. The quilt show was outside, so they’d be able to walk around. Rarity brought a specially made tote that had slots for a water bottle, puppy bags, and even Killer if he got too tired.

As she drove to Flagstaff, she thought about Marilyn’s death and the missing books. Why would someone go to all the trouble of stealing them just to return them years later? Marilyn was supposed to be out of the house. Had her death been accidental? She’d walked into the robbery and surprised the thief, who then turned into a murderer. The theory made sense, but the copy of The Fellowship of the Ring hadn’t been the one that was re ported stolen.

She thought about an article about an art theft that had occurred a few years ago. The thieves had been working with a family member who had lied about the value of the painting to the insurance company for the claim. And the guy had known the man the police had arrested for the break-in. They’d gone to school together and planned the whole thing. The one man got caught when he’d tried to sell the painting in a California gallery. That’s how the police and insurance company found out the actual value of the painting.

Had Archer’s dad lied when he filed the insurance claim on the books? Jonathon had told her that Drew was working that angle, but he’d been busy with the recent murder. Pulling up old, closed files wasn’t a high priority for the insurance company. Maybe they should be happy the books were returned. But Rarity could see that Jonathon still wanted to solve the case, even all the se years later.

It was a beautiful spring day at the park. This was the same park that had hosted the artists and their booths last year when she’d bought the painting she had in her living room. She ran into several moms whom she’d met through the book clubs and chatted for a while. Being alone didn’t mean she was lonely. She was an adult woman. She could do things by herself without Archer by her side. Besides, he’d be bored stiff if he’d come with her.

Sometimes you had to have a me day. Killer barked at her, indicating he wanted some water. “Okay, a me and Killer day.” She took him over to the side of the booths where there was a big shade tree and took out his collapsible water dish and the water bottle. As he was drinking, her phone rang. It was Archer.

“Hey, what’s going on?” She leaned against the tree, watching Killer drink all the water and then wander off to drain his bladder. What goes in must come out.

“I hate to do this since I know you’re probably busy at the shop, but when you close, can you do me a favor?” Archer soun ded distracted.

“I’m not at the shop. I went to a quilt show.” Rarity picked up Killer’s bowl and tucked it back into her tote. She stayed under the tree as she talked to Archer. “Can I do it whe n I get back?”

“Are you in Flagstaff?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

“Yes, at that same park,” Rarity said then paused, thinking he probably didn’t want to chat. “So w hat can I do?”

“We rushed Dad to the hospital. He was having trouble breathing, and Dana was watching him, so she called the ambulance. They’re probably sending him home soon and officially making the hospice decision, but I left my laptop at the house. I need the chart I made with his stats for the last week. The doctors want to see it before they make the decision.” He paused. “I’d hoped that he would recover from this, but as much as Dana and I want him to bounce ba ck, he isn’t.”

“I’m so sorry, Archer.” Rarity’s heart hurt a bit for what he was going through.

He told her where to find the spare key for the apartment and gave her the address of the apartment and the hospital. Before he hung up, he took a deep breath. “Thanks, Rarity. I’m sorry to interr upt your day.”

“We’re almost through the exhibits. Killer’s getting tired anyway. Can I bring you and Da na some food?”

“She’s already ordered something to be delivered,” he said. “Thank you again . I love you.”

When she got to the first-level apartment, she quickly found the key and went inside. She quickly found Archer’s laptop, but as she was walking out the door, a framed photograph on the bookcase caught her eye. She took a picture of the foursome, smiling at the camera. She thought she recognized the woman. She was much younger in this photo and the man standing by her looked like William Jully. Of course it wasn’t, but what if this was Daisy and Nick? Were the other two in the photograph Archer ’s mom and dad?

Had she f ound the link?

When she got to the hospital, she texted Archer, who promised to meet her outside the main doors. She tucked Killer into his tote and locked the car, then headed to the entrance.

He came out a few minutes later. He gave her a quick hug and took the laptop. “Thank you so much. I know I keep saying that, but I didn’t want to leave Dana to drive over and get it. She’s a mess.”

Killer barked, and Rarity felt the tote moving as he wiggled to try to get Archer to talk to him. “Someone wan ts to say hi.”

He reached down and gave the dog a rub on the top of his head and got several licks in return. “Hey buddy, are you taking care of your mom since I ca n’t be there?”

That earned Archer a quick bark, and they laughed.

“He’s probably telling you I’ve been a complete mess and how much work it is for him.” Rarity took out her phone. “Look, I know you have to get back to your dad, but can you look at this picture? It was on your dad’s bookcase. Do you know who that is?”

He took her phone. “Sure. That’s Mom and Dad, before the divorce. And that’s Daisy and Nick Wellings. They’re Arthur’s kids, the guy with the rare bookshop. They were all friends back then. Daisy and Nick were like family. They were always around. They all went to high sch ool together.”

“Daisy told me that Nick was William Jully’s birth dad. I guess he took his stepfather’s name when his mom got married.” She took her phone back. “Is there any way that Nick might have stolen your grandmo ther’s books?”

Before he could answer, his phone rang. He looked down at the text. “Dana says Dad’s not doing well. I need to go.” He kissed her and then took off back into the hospital.

Rarity sent a prayer with him and turned back to the parking lot. Killer whined as they settled into the car. “I know you didn’t want to leave Archer, but he’s a little busy with his dad. He’ll be back over for dinner soon.”

As she drove back to Sedona, she hoped her wo rds were true.