Charles Bacchus was a former boxer in his midfifties. He had been the episode “Hot Shot” the previous week. Stocky and balding with a barrel chest and a deep laugh, Charles’s massive hands had a deceptively light touch when it came to baking.
“Just talking to him has blown all of my stereotypes out of the water and I love his laugh,” Susan said. She nudged her black cat’s-eye glasses up her nose. “What are the other contestants like?”
“I’ve only talked to Stacey once,” I said, “and that was when we were introduced. I know Rebecca says Stacey seemed to be the one handling the pressure the best, which makes sense since she’s an elementary school teacher.”
Susan gave me a knowing grin as she put another book on the cart. “No wonder she’s so good at keeping her cool.”
“Caroline is very much the mother of the group,” I continued. I reached over and pulled a book out of the pile in front of Susan. Its dust jacket was torn. I’d leave it in the workroom for Abigail to repair. “She’s always trying to make her bakes healthy, which sometimes doesn’t work out so well.”
Three preteens came in the front door then. Two of them looked a little lost and the third looked petulant.
“Okay, someone assigned a paper that requires reading an actual physical book,” Susan whispered. “Where’s Mary when we need her?”
Mary Lowe looked like everyone’s idea of a sweet grandmother—and she was. She had soft white hair, she wore a themed sweater for every holiday and she made the best cinnamon rolls I had ever eaten. She was also a champion kickboxer and a big proponent of both reading and getting an education. The kids who came into the library looking for her help were partly in awe of her and partly a bit terrified. According to the middle school rumor mill, Mary had once dropkicked two foulmouthed boys out the front doors of the building. It was supposed to have happened before my time but I knew Mary well enough to know she wouldn’t raise a hand or a foot to a child. She would, however, give you a talking-to you wouldn’t soon forget.
When I had asked her about the origin of the story she’d just smiled and said, “Sometimes perception is just as important as reality,” and left it at that.
Susan held out her arm, hand folded into a fist. She tipped her head in the direction of the three boys. “Rock, paper, scissors?” she asked.
I smiled. “It’s okay. I have this.”
“You’re taking all the fun out of my workplace,” she said, wrinkling her nose at me.
“You would have won,” I said. “You always win when we do rock, paper, scissors.”
She grinned. “I know. That’s the fun part.”
I shook my head and walked over to the three boys.
Lita came into the library about quarter to eight. Everett’s assistant sometimes worked late hours. Kate and Caroline had left by then and I had helped the three boys find the books they needed for their English papers. Now I was dealing with a temperamental computer monitor, muttering to myself under my breath.
Lita frowned at the computer. “Does this happen a lot?” she asked.
“More frequently than I’d like,” I said. “That’s why I’m looking at starting to replace them all over time, beginning with the next budget. One of these days, banging on the side with the heel of my hand is going to stop working.”
“I’ll talk to Everett about this,” she said.
“I appreciate the offer.” I grunted as I leaned over the top of the monitor so I could attach a new cable at the back. “But Everett can’t rescue the library every time we need something. We need to make the budget work.”
Lita nodded. “I agree, but when Rebecca finds out, I can’t guarantee that she’ll agree.”
I sighed. “I know.” Rebecca loved the library. It was where she had indulged her love of books as a child and she was happy to spend money for whatever we needed. And if Rebecca was happy then so was Everett. I, on the other hand, felt we needed to run things without Everett always riding to the rescue.
“What I can do is make sure Everett knows what’s going on and how you feel about money falling from the sky, so to speak.”
“Thank you,” I said.
A lot of people in the town and the surrounding area depended on our public-access computers. Even on a quiet Friday night all but the one I was working on were in use. I finished attaching the cable I’d just switched in for what I believed was one with a wonky connection somewhere. I held my breath—at least mentally—and then gave a sigh of relief when the monitor came back to life.
“We’re good for another day,” I said to Lita. I grabbed the balky old cable and for the first time noticed that she was holding a large white envelope. “You found one.” I knew the envelope had to contain a calendar.
She smiled. “Two, actually, in my bottom desk drawer. I set them aside for some reason but I’ll be darned if I know why.”
I took the envelope from her. “Thank you for finding this and for bringing it over.” On the phone I had explained what Eugenie wanted to do. “I don’t know if the calendar will generate any interest in Mayville Heights, but it can’t hurt.”
“You’re very welcome,” Lita said. There was a teasing gleaming in her eye. “Burtis wants to know when you’re coming out for a rematch.”
We started walking toward the front doors. “That man is a glutton for punishment,” I said.
“He’s bone-headed stubborn. No argument there.”
Lita had been “keeping company” with Burtis Chapman for quite a while now. She was elegant and calm, the kind of person you wanted in your lifeboat. Burtis was larger than life, a self-made man who had worked for the town bootlegger when he was barely a teenager. He and Lita were crazy about each other, and anyone who had dared to comment on their relationship to their faces had been stared into silence.
I considered Burtis a friend and not just because he’d once helped Marcus save me from a burning building. He was loyal and dependable and his word was his bond. That was more than enough for me.
His son, Brady, had bought a pinball machine a while back that he was keeping at his father’s house. I had beaten Burtis twice at the game after giving him fair warning that I was a pretty good player. I’d spent a lot of time playing pinball when my parents were doing summer stock when I was a kid. For a while I was making enough money to indulge my comic book habit and then my father found out what I was up to and my days as a pinball shark were over.
“He says the third time is a charm,” Lita said. She shook her head.
I smiled. “I love an optimist. Not that optimism is going to help his game. Tell Burtis I’ll be out as soon as the show stops taping.”
She pulled her keys out of her pocket. “Do you think Rebecca has a chance of winning?”
I nodded. “I really do, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep your fingers crossed, just in case,” I said. “And tell that big optimist to keep his crossed as well.”
Lita laughed. “I will.”
It stayed quiet until closing time. I said good night to Susan and Levi and drove over to the community center. Zach Redmond was at the back door security desk. Zach also worked part-time as a bartender at The Brick. He was taking several of the evening shifts at the desk because he was also taking a couple of online college courses. It was quiet enough most evenings that he had lots of time to study.
Zach had thick brown hair pulled back in a man bun and dark skin. His most striking feature was his deep blue eyes. Most of the time he dressed in black jeans and one of his collection of rock and roll T-shirts.
“How’s the chemistry course coming?” I asked as I signed in. I noticed that someone had signed out as just “camera crew.” Thorsten was going to get on Zach about that.
“It’s a lot of work,” Zach said, gesturing at his laptop. “And there’s a lot of stuff to remember. But it’s not as bad as I expected—at least so far. All those years of keeping drink orders straight have given me a pretty good memory.”