Page 22

Monday morning, Rarity did all the things she’d been putting off all week. She swam, cleaned her kitchen, made a shopping list, and thought about William Jully. Had he been a fox in the henhouse? If so, Ruth Agee couldn’t have been his first victim. Maybe there were others where he was listed in their wills or on the probate order. She texted Holly to see if she could sear ch by his name.

Rarity didn’t worry that she didn’t hear back quickly. Holly worked nights, so she had her phone on Do Not Disturb during the first of the day. She’d discover the message soon.

She finished her shopping list and decided it was cool enough that Killer could come to Flagstaff with her. She had to stop at the pet store and there he could go inside with her. The shopping list wasn’t long. If she thought it was too warm, there was a doggy daycare in the same strip mall as the grocery store. She wanted to talk to Daisy Wellings again abo ut rare books.

Rarity had a feeling that there was more Daisy could tell her. Maybe she knew the mysterious benefactor returning the books to the Ender family.

As she got ready, she realized she’d left her wallet at the store on Saturday. She’d been planning on going back, so she’d tucked a credit card and her driver’s license in her jeans pocket when she’d left for the quilt show. Then Archer had called and she’d totally forg otten about it.

“Okay, let’s go and stop at the shop first, then go to your favorite pet store, then to the bookstore, and finally to grab groceries.” Rarity looked down at Killer, who’d only paid attention to the part about going. He was wiggling in delight. At least that was how Rarity was seeing it. Having a dog kept her from talking to herself. Especially lately. Rarity liked talking out a complicated list of chores or stops before she left home.

When they arrived at the shop, a red Corvette was pulling out of the parking spot in front of the store. She’d seen a lot of Cor vettes lately.

Madame Zelda’s shop was open and she must have had an early morning true believer stop and get their first-of-the-week reading. Looking at the car, the woman driving must have been getting great fin ancial advice.

Rarity turned to Killer. “Want to come out with me?”

A dance on the seat told her that maybe the dog had realized he needed to relieve himself before the trip. Rarity clicked a leash on his harness and locked the car as they stepped onto the sidewalk. It would have been fine unlocked, but Rarity still had the safety mentality from living in St. Louis for so long. You always locked your car there.

Walking up to the shop, she wondered if the postman had come early. A package was propped against the door. She tucked it under her arm then unlocked the door, turning off the security system as she juggled the package, her keys, and Killer’s leash since he had decided to stop and water the fake grass she’d put by the do or for his use.

When he was done, she shut and relocked the door, then went to the counter. Her wallet was right where she left it, and she set the package on the counter as she retrieved it and returned her cards to their regular slots. She’d learned during cancer treatments to always put things back when she used them. It kept her life and her mind settled, because at first, she’d been so scattered with everything, she’d started misplacing insurance and debit cards. She usually found them at the bottom of her tote. Or in a jacket. Or worse, in jeans she was getting ready to wash. Being organized kept her from stressing out later. Except she’d let this wallet thing slip by. Maybe she was starting to relax and not be so hypervigilant.

She closed the wallet and glanced at the package. She’d assumed it was from a publisher with an advance reader copy of an upcoming book, but there was no address on the front. Rarity turned it over, her stoma ch tightening.

Nothing on that side either. The postman hadn’t delivered this package. She opened it carefully. If it was the last book, it was rare and expensive. She unwrapped the book and took a breath. It was a Nancy Drew novel. She assumed it must be the final book that had been stolen from Marilyn Ender’s house the night she’ d been killed.

Rarity rewrapped it into the bubble wrap and set the envelope on the counter. Then she went to her security feed. She watched as the woman in the red Corvette pulled up, got out of the car, and walked, head down, to the door. The envelope was clearly in her hands. But that was the only clear thing from the video. Rarity could see her long, dark hair coming out from the dark gray hoodie she wore over her jeans. But she had her hoodie down over her face and kept her face away from the camera. She must have known it was there.

Sh e dialed Drew.

“Why are you calling so early? Do you have some ability to know when I’m in the shower? Or worse, a camera in my bathroom?” He s ounded grumpy.

“No to both of those things. Instead, I have another book delivery. I’m at the shop and I saw the woman leave it. Well, I wasn’t here when she dropped it off, but the camera caught her. She left in a red Corvette as I was parking.” Rarity glanced at her watch. “Come by and get it at noon when Katie opens and then you can watch the s ecurity tape.”

“I have a meeting with the DA on Jully’s murder at nine. I can be there at noon.” He paused, then asked, “Where a re you going?”

“I’m heading to Flagstaff for some errands. I’m taking Killer with me.” Rarity tucked the package under the counter. “Tell Katie it’s under the counter. I’ll text her before I leave town.”

“Well, at least you have someone with you,” he teased. “Lock up the shop. I’d hate to have the book disappear again. Although I still think it’s weird the books are showing up now. Someone must be having a cas e of remorse.”

“That’s my take as well.” Rarity turned off the lights and picked up her wallet and keys. “I’ll make sure the shop is locked. I can put it in the safe if you want.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. There are only three of us who know it’s there. Maybe just text Katie that I’m picking up something, but not what it is.” He paused. “I’ve got to get ready. Make sur e to lock up.”

“I heard you the first time.” Rarity smiled as she said it. It was nice to have people worry about her. “Hey, is Jonathon coming o ver to write?”

“I think it’s a good idea. I’ll make sure he’s aware of the situation. That way, if I’m late, Katie will h ave a backup.”

“It’s good to have friends in law enforcement.” Rarity laughed. “Go finish your shower. You don’t want to offend the DA or have them think we’re hicks.”

“He already thinks that. Drive safe and lock up.”

She was about to respond when she realized he’d hung up. She looked down at Killer, who looked unsure why he still was on his leash in the bookstore.

“Your uncle Drew thinks I’m an idiot.”

The only response she got was a bark. She was going to interpret that as he’s crazy rather than knowing her dog agr eed with Drew.

She used the hands-free function in her car to text Katie about Drew and to expect Jonathon. She got a quick acknowledgment, so she turned up the radio and headed to Flagstaff. First st op, pet store.

When they came out with dog food, two different types of treats, and a new toy that Killer would ignore after the first five seconds of playing with it, she unloaded the cart into her Cooper, then headed to the nearest cart corral where she hefted the tote with Killer inside on her shoulder. She headed over to the Lost Manuscript bookstore, and as she walked, she saw a red Corvette parked in a corner spot out of the way. The car or one like it had been at the store last time she’d visited as well. Was it the same one she’d seen that morning? Or was she just noticing a lot of the same type and color of cars recently?

Coincidences don’t happen that often. She pushed open the door, and a bell announced her entrance.

Daisy called from the back, “Welcome. If you need help, I’m back in nonfiction, shelving some new arrivals that came in last week. I’ve got a lot of books on the Kennedy era if you’re a collector or like to read that time f rame setting.”

Rarity didn’t answer; instead, she followed the voice to where Daisy was working. “ Good morning.”

Daisy turned around, a surprised look on her face. “Oh, it’s R arity, right?”

“Yes, I own the bookstore in Sedona. Sorry, you already know that.” Rarity picked up a history book from the cart. “Camelot. Everyone wants to know more about the past. Especially when it ends in a murder. Or I guess I should call it an assassination.” She tucked the book under her arm. “I’ll take this one. Hey, speaking of the past, is that your Corvette out here? Midseve nties? Right?”

“It’s 1974. Good eye. The first car I ever bought off the showroom floor. My dad thought I was an idiot, but I was making great money as a tax lawyer back then. Had to spend it somehow, right?” She didn’t look up at Rarity, instead focusing on the book she was shelving.

“It’s beautiful. Funny thing is, I needed to stop at my shop this morning and I thought I saw your car in Sedona.” Rarity stopped talking and let the silence between them w ork its magic.

“I’ve been here at the shop all morning.” Daisy sorted through the books in the cart. “Can I get you something else, or is that all you came in for?”

Rarity decided to take a chance and laid her cards out on the table. “Why are you returning the books that were stolen from Marilyn Ender? Were you there that night? I know you and your brother knew Caleb and June Ender. I saw a picture of the four of you together in Caleb ’s apartment.”

Now Daisy did look at her. She set the books she’d picked up back on the cart. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. Nick’s dead. William, his son, is dead. Caleb’s dying. The only one who would be hurt is my dad, and he doesn’t remember much from day to day. Let’s go up to the front and talk. Do you want some coffee?”

“If you want some.” Rarity regretted accepting the offer as soon as the words came out of her mouth. This was where in the books, the killer poisoned the nosy sleuth who was asking too m any questions.

The coffeepot had just finished brewing and sat on a table next to a large couch and reading chair. Daisy gave Rarity a cup then filled another. She held the second one out. “We can switch if yo u’re worried.”

“Do you have a reason to kill me?” Rarity hadn’t seen her put anything in the cups besid es the coffee.

“No. I wasn’t involved with the Marilyn incident. I found out about the mess later. I was part of the problem, though.” She leaned in and took a sip of her cup. “The coffee’s fin e, I promise.”

Rarity decided to trust her. She sat down and put Killer’s tote next to her. He stuck his head out and watched the two of them. “So tell me w hat happened.”

Daisy stared into her coffee like it was a portal looking into the past. “What do you th ink you know?”

“Marilyn Ender wasn’t supposed to be home. The books were rare and valuable so someone broke in to take them, but then Marilyn came downstairs and surprised the thief. And he reacted.” Rarity had decided that this had to be what happened. “But I’m not sure how they knew the house was supposed to be empty. Unless the killer was working with someone , like Caleb.”

Daisy nodded. “Nick and Caleb were friends. Best friends for years, at least before this happened. I was in love with Caleb. I wasn’t happy with my husband; he wasn’t happy. We’d been high school sweethearts and thought we were soulmates. We started an affair, and we were going to run off to New York. Now, looking back, I think we were both tired of being adults. I had a job lined up there. I could have supported us until Caleb found work. But he was proud and didn’t want to live off me. I think Nick was pushing that narrative. Anyway, they came up with this plan. Dad knew people in the rare book community who would buy anything, no questions asked. Caleb would help his mom file the insurance claim, and he and Nick would split the money from selling the books. It should have been easy. That’s always the kicker, right? The acts of chance that throw wrenches into the bes t-laid plans?”

“How do you know this?” Rarity set down the coffee cup without taking a sip. She wasn’t ta king a chance.

“Caleb called me after it all went down. I was already in New York working and finalizing the divorce. He told me that Nick had killed Marilyn and he couldn’t leave June alone. Not with two kids. He was heartbroken and riddled with guilt. He was never the same. He’d call over the years and cry on my shoulder.” Daisy set her cup down and curled around herself as she talked. “I was in love with him. We didn’t need the money from the books. This was all Nick buzzing in his ear. My brother always was a make-money-quick type. A trait I hear his s on inherited.”

“So Nick killed Marilyn that night and took the books. How did you g et the books?”

Daisy had her hands clasped together. “I never remarried. I never wanted to trust someone and then be betrayed again like what Caleb did. So years passed. Nick robbed someone else, probably several someone elses, and finally went to prison. He was killed there. William was a baby when Nick’s girlfriend got tired of waiting for him to grow up and remarried. When I came home for a visit after my mom passed a few years ago, I realized my dad was failing. I believe it’s Alzheimer’s, but he doesn’t have a diagnosis, yet. I moved back, started working at the store and cleaning out the house. I found the books in the attic. They were in a box labeled ‘Nick’s stuff.’ It looked like Nick’s writing. I almost dropped it off at William’s house. I thought he might want his dad’ s belongings.”

“But with his history, you weren’t sure what was in the box,” R arity guessed.

A sad smile and a nod answered the question before Daisy did. “Exactly. I found out you were dating Archer and thought since Caleb was doing poorly, maybe getting the books back might help ea se his guilt.”

Rarity sat back. With everything that she’d found out, she never thought it would be an act of love. Or what Daisy thought was love. “So why is The Fellowship of the Ring you returned not the same book that was on the ins urance claim?”

“I know it’s the book that Nick took. Honestly, I think Caleb decided to take advantage of the situation. I know he and Nick got into a fight after Marilyn was killed. Caleb thought Nick had sold the books and blown town. Instead, he’d blown town without selling the books. Maybe he wanted to let things cool off a bit. I never thought my brother would kill anyone. Not until I got that phone call from Caleb. By then, when I called Dad, Nick had left town for a job in California. At least that was the story. I don’t know where he wound up, but I didn’t even know I had a nephew until years later. We’ve never been a close family. Not for years.” She leaned back onto the couch. “I wanted to make amends for the affair. I’ve never forgiven myself for ruining Ca leb’s family.”

Rarity left the bookstore and called Drew on her way to the grocery store. She told him what Daisy had told her. The mystery behind the death of Marilyn Ender and the resurfacing books had been solved, but the man who had killed her, according to Daisy, was dead. The other man involved, Caleb Ender, was nearing the end of his own life. “She’s at the bookstore if you want to go talk to her.”

“I’m stuck in meetings still. I stepped out to take this call. I don’t want Dad to leave the bookstore until I get that book out of there and safe here at the station. I don’t think anyone is out there looking for it. But in case.” There was a pause before Drew added, “I don’t know how we’re going to tell Archer and Dana that their dad was involved in their grandm other’s death.”

Rarity felt Drew’s pain. “Maybe we could leave t hat part out?”

“Do you want to lie to Archer for the rest of your life?”

Drew had a point. “I’m at the grocery store. I’m dropping Killer off at doggy daycare, doing my shopping, and then I’ll be back in town. Let me know if you want me to send Jonathon over to the station with the book onc e I get back.”

“I’ll come get it or send one of the guys. I don’t mind him being a watchdog, but the delivery guy for something this valuable is one step too far. If he got hurt, my mom would never forgive me.” He signed off with a “Drive carefully,” and then t he call ended.

Drew had become a good friend, even if he didn’t like her getting involved in his investigations. She thought that maybe this time she hadn’t gotten the lecture about talking to suspects because it was an old, cold case. Or maybe it was because he knew how not solving the case had bothered his dad. Now, Jonathon didn’t have to have that on h is conscience.

As she was coming out of the grocery store, she saw that man again getting into a car in the parking lot. The man who looked like Kevin. This was getting weirder by the day. Maybe instead of a hobby, she needed a vacation. She watched the newer BMW pull out of the parking lot and head west. It was probably a local doppelganger. A guy who looked like Kevin. And liked BMWs like Kevin had. When he left her years ago, he’d bought his first one.

Rarity thought it was a waste of money, but it had made him happy to have a status car. This Arizona guy must have the same need for labels as her former fiancé.

She tucked the groceries away, then went to get Killer from daycare. They were stopping at her favorite local drive-in, the Hungry Onion, for lunch. Fish sandwich and onion rings. And a slider bun for Killer. And a vani lla milkshake.

Rarity didn’t have dinner plans, so she could eat a salad then.