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Archer couldn’t meet her to look at the new book that had arrived until later that night, so Rarity took it home with her. As Jonathon walked her to the house, he talked about the old case. How he’d come up empty on fingerprints or anything at the scene. Rarity knew he was running the case through his mind again, using her as a sounding board, but she didn’t hear anything that sounded like a mistake. “I only had one unsolved murder during my entire career, and that had to be a f amily friend.”

“I’m sure the Ender family didn’t blame you,” Rarity said as they walked down the sidewalk. The neighborhood was quiet. They hadn’t seen a car since they’d turned of f Main Street.

“Caleb, Archer’s dad, was heartbroken. He never gave up trying to find out who killed his mom. He and June divorced a few years later. He went downhill after that. I hear he’s homebound now, with some sort of muscle disease. Archer has probably told you all this.”

“Actually, no. We haven’t talked much about family. I learned about Dana, his sister, last year during the whole Moments Gallery debacle.” Rarity knew she hadn’t shared her family history with Archer either. “Until right now, it didn’t seem important. Now, I wonder why we hadn’t talked about our fam ilies sooner.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to leave the past in the past. Especially when there’s bad blood between relatives. June sold the Sedona house after the divorce and moved to California. I hear she’s remarried now to a nice dentist.” Jonathon put his arm around Rarity. “Edith keeps up with everyone. And we get Chr istmas cards.”

“I think it’s weird that these books keep showing up in my shop.” Rarity dug her keys out of her jacket pocket. “Archer’s going to start to think I’m making up excuses for him to come over.”

“So it’s that bad between you two?” Jonathon handed her Killer’s leash. “I’m s orry, Rarity.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, to tell you the truth,” Rarity admitted. She waved at Terrance, who was standing on his deck, watching them. “Good night, Terrance. I’m in for the night, but Archer may be stopping by.”

“I don’t want to hear about your shenanigans with that young man, but I’m glad you’re home.” Terrance waved at the dog, and Killer barked his hello. “Hey, Jonathon, do you have a minute?”

“As soon as Rarity gets inside, then I’ll come up and chat.” Jonathon turned toward Rarity. “I’ll be by tomorrow. I’m sure Drew is going to want to keep that book at the station as well if Archer verifies that it belonged to his grandmother.”

“I’ll text you as soon as he looks at it. Thanks for walking me home.” Rarity and Killer headed into the house. Killer needed his dinner. Rarity thought she’d make a new soup she’d bought the ingredients for on her last trip to the grocery store. She was kind of existing on soup right now. But cooking would keep her busy while she waited for Arch er to show up.

She fed Killer, then changed and swam, hoping some of the nervous energy she felt about seeing Archer would dissipate. This was stupid. She needed to know what was going on and if they were still a couple or not. She’d ask tonight. If she had the courage. Right now, he was busy. Thinking about the next step. If she asked, it might be over. But what if it was over now and she was the only one wh o didn’t know?

She sank into the warm water and let it soothe her nerves. No, she decided as she pushed off into the first lap. She’d ask and that would be that. She was strong enough for anything.

Besides, two mysteries were going on right now to keep her too busy to miss Archer. Except, she still did. She reached her arm up into a stroke and pushed away any thought besides the motion of her body in the water.

As she got out of the pool, she took a deep calming breath. Swimming had always been there for her. When she was upset, worried, nervous, or whatever emotion was taking over her brain, all she had to do was step into the water. The fear dissipated as she swam. She’d started swimming in high school when her world had started falling apart. And the practice had nev er failed her.

She could hear voices from Terrance’s back deck. Jonathon must have decided to hang out for a bit. She smiled as she heard the two men’s laughter. They were both father figures for her and good, good men. One had been in the military, one on the police force, and both were solid citizens. Even with Terrance’s one blip that Drew was so focused on. Did who he was as a young man determine who he was now?

She also thought that maybe the men were drinking a beer a s they talked.

Rarity went inside, calling Killer to follow. She’d leave the men to their war stories. She had soup to make.

She was sitting down to eat after making a batch of corn bread to go with the tomato veggie soup when she heard Archer’s Jeep pull up in the driveway. She went and opened the door for him as he came inside. As he walked up, she turned so he could get into the doorway without touching her. She didn’t want to pull him into a hug if he wasn’t feeling it. “Hi, Archer.”

He stared at her, visibly noticing her distance, then stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Killer had no issues with showing his affection as he darted from his place by the table, jumping up to get Archer’s attention. Archer swept him up into his arms and for a second, Rarity felt a stab of jealousy over her dog. “Hey buddy, Rarity. Whatever you’re cooking sm ells amazing.”

“Veggie soup and corn bread. Have you eaten?” She walked toward the kitchen. “There’s enough for two. Well, there’s probably enough for a football team, but you know I can’t cook for one.”

“I’m not sure if I have time….” Archer paused. “Why not? I’m starving.”

Well, that wasn’t what she’d expected, but maybe this was the start of the “we’re friends” conversation and life. “Have a seat and I’ll pour you a bowl. There are sodas i n the fridge.”

Rarity winced as she thought about how robotic she sounded. Of course, Archer should know that there were sodas in the fridge. He probably had stocked it last when they’d gone to Flagstaff the weekend before he’d told her he was n’t moving in.

“Thanks.” He grabbed a soda and set Killer on the floor. “I’m glad you called today. What did you need me to look at? I don’t t hink I asked.”

Rarity nodded to the breakfast bar on the island where she’d set the book. She put it up on the box she’d packed it into to carry home. Once Archer had looked at it, she’d call Drew and have him come pick it up. “That. The book showed up at my boo kstore today.”

“You think it might be my grandmother’s?” Archer hurried over to examine the book. “I know she had a copy of this. She read this to me several times. She told me the backstory too. About how it was a story about Christianity. But she waited until I was older so we’d read it several times before she threw that theme on me. I liked the idea that you could go to another world, just by opening a door. Or walking through a closet. Dana kept hanging out in closets to make sure a door wouldn’t open without he r being there.”

“How much older are you than Dana?” Rarity set the bowl on the table and walked over to watch him with the book.

“Two years. She was always my shadow. At least until I went to college. She stayed close and went to Northern Arizona. She’s in nursing. Did I tell you that already?” He looked up from the book and met her gaze. “I don’t think I’ve shared a lot of my family hist ory with you.”

“Funny, Jonathon and I were talking about that tonight. I haven’t told you much about my family either.” She tried to read his gaze. “Maybe we both should be more open.”

He held her gaze for a long second, then pointed to the book. “Okay, for me to touch it?”

She handed him a pencil. “I learned this from Jonathon. Use the eraser part. Just in case there’s fingerprints.”

He turned the book over and op ened the back.

“Inscriptions are usually in the front,” Rarity s aid, confused.

“Yeah, but if someone was sneaky and didn’t want his grandmother or little sister to know he claimed a book for his own, he’d write his name on the last page of the book.” Archer pointed to the bottom of the page where someone in shaky block letters had written, ARCHER ANDREW ENDER . The blue ink was faded, but the wor ds were clear.

“So this is your grandmother’s book. Why is someone dropping off books stolen from your family in my bookstore?” Rarity leaned against the wall, stari ng at the book.

“I don’t know the answer to that. But that’ s my writing.”

“Andrew is your middle name?” Rarity texted Drew the information. The answer came back quickly. Rarity looked at the text. “Jonathon will be by to pick up the book in a few minutes. He’s next door, talking to Terrance.”

“I guess we should eat, then.” Archer extended his arm . “After you.”

They sat at the table, not talking, as they ate the soup a nd corn bread.

“This is good,” Archer finally said as he buttered another slice of corn bread. “The soup has a to uch of spice.”

“A couple of slices of jalapeno. The recipe said to put a whole one in, but I’m not a fan of spicy soup. So I was stingy.” Rarity took another sip of her soup. “I think I could do a half of a pepper.”

“I like it like this,” Archer said as h e watched her.

Feeling the heat from his stare, Rarity decided to change the subject. “Are you and your bus available Friday morning to help move heavy book boxes to my f estival tent?”

“What time?” Archer pulled up his phone. “I can do it early as long as we’re done by nine.”

“I’ll meet you at the shop at eight, then.” She watched as he keyed the appointment into his phone. “I can pay you for the time and gas.”

“No worries. I’ll be glad to help.” Archer went back to eating his soup after setting th e phone aside.

A knock on the door kept her from having to figure out something else to talk about. Conversation had always been easy between the two of them. Now it was so awkward.

Rarity went to the door and let Jonathon in. “I t’s her book.”

“That’s what Drew said. He’d called to see if I was coming home for dinner when you texted him.” He waved at Archer. “Good to see you, kid.”

“You too.” Archer walked over and, using a towel, put the book back into the box. “Dana is going to be thrilled that it’s been found. It was one of her favo rite stories.”

Which was why he’d claimed the book as a kid. Rarity added the subtext that Archer didn’t say. Rarity wished she’d had a sibling to fight wi th growing up.

Jonathon didn’t stay long. As soon as he left, Archer stepped over and cleaned off the table. “Do you want me t o wash these?”

“I can do that later,” Rarity said. It was now or never. “Archer, I think we need to talk.”

He rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, his back to her. “I know. I’ve been planning on stopping by, but I wanted to get this thing settl ed, but then…”

His phone buzzed and he glanced at the text. “Sorry, I’v e got to run.”

“But…” Rarity didn’t even get to finish her sentence.

Archer paused at the door. “Look, I promise, we’ll sit down s oon and talk.”

As he drove away, she watched from the front window. Killer whined at her feet, and she picked him up and stepped over to lock the door. “What do you say? Ice cream for dessert?”

Killer licked her cheek as she walked over and put him on the couch.

“Or maybe we should find a sad movie and do popcorn.” She rubbed his back. It seemed like Killer was up for anything. At least he didn’t have to run at the s ight of a text.

She sat up for a minute. Why would Archer take off like that? Dinner was nice. Quiet, but nice. They’d gotten along. They were talking after Jonathon left; then the text had thrown a switch and then Ar cher had left.

And Rarity was left with more questions than answers.

She turned on the television and went to the dining room to find her tote. Her murder book was in there. She made notes on Marilyn’s murder page about the new book being found. Then she turned to the page with J ully’s murder.

Who was William Jully? That was a question she could try to answer. Or at least paint a partial picture. When she got to work tomorrow, she’d be swallowed up by prep work for the festival that started on Friday. Tonight, she could do some internet research and see if she could figure out who the grumpy, dog-hating, junior administrator who had died at Sedona Me mory Care was.

She grabbed a blank piece of paper and started Googling his name again. She went down several rabbit holes but eventually got stumped. According to Google, Wiliam Jully had worked at two other facilities, staying approximately eighteen months at both. He’d only been at the Sedona center for the last six months. And before those three jobs? There was no mention of the man ever existing.

Rarity reverified his age. The statement the nursing home had put out said William was thirty-five. So if he graduated from high school at eighteen, then went to college for four years, there was still almost a decade of years unaccounted for. So what had he been doing before he started working at nursing homes?

She wrote down the other two nursing homes and wondered if she could talk to the administrator at the Sedona facility without raising a flag. She wrote down Sally’s name. She didn’t know her last name. So she went to the website for Sedona Memory Care. Sally Ball was listed as the facility administrator. William Jully was listed with a short bio listing the two facilities Rarity had already written down.

And nothing else. He didn’t even have a picture up yet. The placeholder said, “Coming soon.” But soon the website would update and a new junior administrator’s bio and photo would be p ut up instead.

Working at a place for six months should be enough time to update your bio and snap a picture. Why hadn’t Jully update d his profile?

Since she had hit a dead end, she researched Ruth Agee. There was even less on her, except for her obituary. She’d been widowed when she was in her sixties and never remarried. She had been an attorney in Flagstaff, and her husband had owned a chain of coffee shops that she’d sold after his death. Desert Coffee and Cream had been a regional chain until the buildings and brand had been bought out by the Seattle-based coffee giant.

According to the article in the Flagstaff Press , she’d given away over a million in her will to the Flagstaff Performing Arts School. And a smaller grant to the Sedona Library, which had plans to build a new library building near the elementary school. Robert Agee Community Library. And there were a few other charity and persona l bequeathals.

Rarity tried to find the court probate information online but hit another dead end. She texted Holly and asked where she could find proba te information.

The three little dots bounced for a long while. Whatever Holly was typing was a big explanation. Rarity had only been lookin g for a place.

Finally, the message came through, and Rarity realized that Holly had been looking into Ruth’s e state as well.

Still pending probate, but there was a codicil filed last month to add another beneficiary for a specific sum and the house in Flagstaff. A nice house in Flagstaff. Want to guess who the mystery b eneficiary was?

Rarity took a deep breath. She looked over at Killer. “I bet I get three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

She answered the text with William Jully’s name.

Bingo. We have a winner, folks. Seriously, I’ve been waiting for some software to upload so I’ve had some time. I should have a nice report for Tuesday’s meeting. What are you doi ng up so late?

Rarity peered at the time on the right-hand side of the laptop. It was already after one. She had to be at the bookstore early tomorrow to finish stuffing the last few eggs before Heidi showed up at two to pick up the fin ished baskets.

Her eyes felt like grit as she shut down her laptop and walked over to plug it in at her desk. She put her murder notebook into her tote and let Killer out, one last time. As she waited, she text ed Holly back.

Long story. I’ve got an update on the cold case too. Another one of Marilyn’s books was dropped off at the store today. Archer and Jonathon were at the house. Then I needed a distraction after he left. I started down the Google rabbit hole on our victim, William Jully.

She knew she was writing a novel rather than a text, but the words were flowing out of her and she was too tired to edit them into something more concise. Who was it who said, “I didn’t have time to write you a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead”?

Rarity would have to look that quote up. Bu t not tonight.