“Yes,” I said. “If Larry can come up with some way we can catch the culprit, why not?”
“I’ll give him a call,” Harry said.
It was about quarter after twelve when Levi Ericson came in. Mary had taken the early lunch break. I was putting books on our holds shelves.
“Could I talk to you about something?” he asked. His expression was serious and I hoped he wasn’t going to tell me he was quitting.
“Of course,” I said. “We can go up to my office. I just need to get Abigail.”
“Here is fine,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Did you know World Mental Health Day is in October?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”
“I was wondering, could we do something here at the library? Maybe on the day or during the week? Some kind of display, or maybe a talk or . . . something?”
“Yes,” I said. “We could do all of it.”
A smile lit up his face. “Really?”
“Really.” I was happy not to be losing Levi and his suggestion was a good one.
“I, um, I kind of have some ideas for what we could do,” he said, swiping his hair back out of his eyes with his long fingers. “I have this friend who has anxiety. She looks like she has her life together but it’s not how she feels inside. I think a lot of people feel that way and they’re scared to let anyone know.”
“Put your ideas on paper,” I said. “You don’t have to do anything fancy. I’m not asking you to write an essay. Just organize your thoughts. Then you and I will sit down and come up with a plan.”
“I can do that this weekend,” he said. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
I smiled back at him. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
He started for the door and then turned around. “Thank you, Kathleen. Really, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
Levi all but bounced out of the door. I loved his enthusiasm and how much he obviously cared about his friend. “She looks like she has her life together but it’s not how she feels inside.” I realized that the way he had described his friend sounded a lot like the way Russell had talked about Stacey just last night: “I know it seems like Stacey has it all together, but lying like this just makes her anxiety worse.”
Stacey had anxiety? How was she managing it? I knew that not everyone with anxiety used medication. I also knew people were sometimes desperate enough for help that they bought drugs illegally. Marcus had said that no one involved with the show had a prescription for the drug found in Kassie’s system. Was I jumping to conclusions thinking Stacey could be the source of the lorazepam?
At one o’clock I took my lunch break and headed to the community center to give Eugenie my research into making butter. It would have been easier to e-mail everything, but she liked to check the information while I was with her and it really wasn’t that big of a hassle.
I stopped to say hi to Maggie and let her know I might be late for tai chi. Roma wanted to check Hercules’s leg one more time. She was squeezing us in at the end of the day and I was going to pick him up as soon as I left the community center. I was lucky Mayville Heights was the kind of place where my cat could spend the afternoon at the library and no one would think that was strange.
Stacey was just crossing the parking lot when I came out the back door. She waved and changed course to intercept me. “I’m glad I saw you,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for encouraging Russell to talk to the police.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “I was just a little moral support. Russell already knew what he needed to do.”
Stacey fingered the strap of her brown leather cross-body bag. “I don’t like lying, especially to the police. I was getting so anxious I started having panic attacks.”
“I’m claustrophobic,” I said. “I know a little about how panic feels.”
“Usually I can manage my anxiety with meditation and exercise but, being on the show, it’s been a lot harder.” I noticed that her nails were very short and the cuticles on both hands looked ragged.
I smiled. “I think you may be doing better than you realize. I didn’t notice anything.”
Stacey ducked her head for a moment. Her fingers were still fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “That’s because I’m pretty good at fooling people, and, to be honest, I’ve been taking something—not all the time. Just when I need it.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked. “I know we’re not friends but I sometimes think librarians are like bartenders—you’d be surprised the things people tell us.”
That made her smile. “I appreciate the offer but now that I’m not on the show most of the pressure is gone. I’m glad I did it, but I don’t think I’d do something like that again.” She shook her head. “I got so anxious I swiped a few pills from a friend who has a prescription for antianxiety medication. Dumb, right?”
“Not dumb,” I said, choosing my words with care, “but maybe not the best way to handle things.”
“Russell said the same thing, and I am going to see my doctor when I get home.” Her gaze slipped away from my face for a moment. “Last night I gave him the ones I had left and he got rid of them. I wasn’t really keeping track of how many I took and I know that isn’t good.”
“I’m glad you’re not self-medicating anymore and I’m glad you have Russell.” I touched her arm for a moment. “Russell has my number. Please use it if you want to talk or just get a cup of coffee. Or tea.”
Stacey nodded. “I will.”
We said good-bye. She headed for the door and I made my way across the lot.
I got in the truck and dropped my bag on the seat. I propped my elbow on the armrest and leaned my head on my hand. There was a good chance Stacey was the source of the medication in Kassie’s system. By her own admission she hadn’t kept track of those pills she’d taken from her friend. It would have been easy for someone to borrow one or two. But if I told Marcus what I had just figured out, Stacey would know I’d betrayed her confidence. I couldn’t do that. There had to be some other way for him to get the information. I just needed to figure it out.
I drove home and found Hercules upstairs, seemingly rearranging the shoes in my closet. “I’m not even going to ask,” I said, bending down to scoop him up. “Want to come and spend the afternoon at the library?”
He squirmed in my arms. His green eyes narrowed and one ear turned sideways. He was rightly suspicious. “You can sit in my chair. You can shed cat hair all over my desk.”
He seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he stopped squirming. I wondered if it was the chair or the shedding that had won him over.
Hercules climbed in the cat carrier bag without complaint. I felt a little guilty because I knew he would feel I’d tricked him when we ended up at Roma’s clinic after work. I also knew I was attributing a lot of human emotions to a small black-and-white cat.
When we got to my office I set the carrier bag on my desk and unzipped the top. Hercules climbed out, stretched and then jumped down onto my chair, which sent it slowly spinning in a circle.
“You’re going to make yourself dizzy,” I warned.
He gave me a slightly loopy look as the chair swung past me. Hercules may not have cared for catnip the way his brother did, but he did like going around in circles in my chair.
The next time an arm of the chair passed me I grabbed it. I leaned my face close to his and he licked my chin. “I love you, too,” I said. “Please stay in here. The last thing I need is to have to explain what you’re doing here. I don’t think anyone is going to believe you came to borrow a book.”
He gave an indignant murp as though the idea that he couldn’t read was insulting. For all I knew maybe he could. Both Hercules and Owen were far from ordinary.