I picked Hercules up and set him on the wooden crate. “Stay here for a second,” I said. “I just want to look for something.”
Of course he followed me, jumping down to nose around the boxes and bags and other detritus that had accumulated in the space. In the end, he was the one who found the books, stacked underneath a pile of folded tarps.
For some reason Hugh Davis had emptied a cardboard box and used it to hide his papers in my library. Why?
“So what’s in here?” I said to Hercules, opening the top flaps on the carton again. He stood on his back paws, put his front ones on the edge of the box and peered inside. I took a look as well. On top I could see a couple of yellowed pages covered with messy handwriting. Were those the wedding vows Abigail had been looking for? “Do you think Abigail and Hugh’s marriage license is in here?” I asked.
The only response was a muffled meow. It could have been a yes or a no.
Was that what Hugh had done? Hidden his important papers here at the library where no one would think to look for them? Pretty devious, hiding them in the building where Abigail worked.
I nudged Hercules very gently with my arm and after a moment he pulled his head out of the box and looked at me. His left ear was partly turned inside out.
“Ear,” I said, touching the side of my head.
He sat down and swiped at the ear with a paw, turning it right side out again, then made a move to take another look inside the carton.
I put my hand in front of him. “No,” I said. “Now that we know what this is, we have to call the police. We can’t go through it. It might have something to do with Hugh Davis’s death.”
Hercules glared at me for a moment. Then he jumped down and stalked off to my office. At least I hoped that’s where he was going.
I closed the top of the box, resisting the urge to see what else was in it. In all good conscience I didn’t want to lie to Detective Lind if she asked me if I’d done anything more than look inside. After I locked the door I went downstairs to tell Susan, Mary and Mia that the workroom was off-limits until the police came and decided whether there was anything important in that box.
I was about to go up to my office to call Detective Lind when Marcus walked into the library.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “I just have to call Detective Lind.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I found a box in the workroom that I think belongs—belonged—to Hugh Davis.”
He put his hand on my arm and steered me toward the stairs. “What’s in it?”
“Papers, as far as I can tell,” I said.
Marcus patted his pockets. I knew that gesture. He was feeling to see if he had a pair of disposable gloves.
“No,” I said, moving to stand in front of the steps.
He frowned at me. “What do you mean, ‘no’? I didn’t say a word.”
“I said no because you were looking for gloves so you could go upstairs and go through those papers.”
“I’m a police officer, Kathleen,” he said.
“Who’s been taken off this case,” I replied. “Don’t do something stupid.”
He looked around. “Could we go talk in your office?”
I nodded. “All right.”
We went upstairs. I saw Marcus glance in the direction of the workroom, but I knew there was nothing he could do. The door was locked and I didn’t think he’d try to wrestle the keys away from me.
On the other hand, I didn’t have quite as much control of Hercules. He wasn’t in my office and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew where the little fur ball had gone.
Marcus stood in the middle of the floor. I leaned against my desk. “Kathleen, I went to Red Wing this morning. I know the building inspector, Jeff Harris. He said Hannah was there on Friday to collect some boxes that hadn’t already been picked up.”
“So Andrew didn’t see her drive by the marina.” Either Andrew had been mistaken about the color of the SUV or someone else had the same car as Marcus.
“Jeff told me that she was there Friday afternoon. No one remembers seeing her Friday night.” He stressed the last word.
My stomach seemed to flip over and tie itself into a knot.
“He was at the theater. He helped her load everything in the back of the SUV. She told him she was heading back here, but she let me think she was in Red Wing all evening, including when Davis was killed.”
“She didn’t shoot Hugh Davis,” I said.
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I know that. But if she was here when he was shot, maybe she saw something or she’s protecting someone.”
I didn’t have an answer for him and I was very aware how much he sounded like me. I walked over to him and laid my hand on his arm. “Have you talked to her?”
He looked down at me and his blue eyes were troubled. “I tried. She was angry when she found out I’d been to Red Wing. She said I was a jerk and I’d been a police officer too long and then she left.”
“So let Detective Lind figure this out. Just be Hannah’s big brother.”
He gave me a wry smile. “That sounds like something I’d say to you.”
I squeezed his arm. “Must be good advice, then.”
“It’s been a long time since I saw Hannah that angry.”
“She’ll get past it.”
“Are you sure?” he said.
I smiled at him. “Positive.” I wanted to throw my arms around him but I didn’t. I gave his arm another squeeze and then I dropped my hand and stepped back. “I didn’t always do everything right,” I said. “Maybe you can learn from my mistakes.”
The start of a smile played across his face. “Are you saying you should have listened to me?”
“I decline to answer on the grounds that . . . I don’t want to.”
He did smile at that. Then he reached out and touched my shoulder, just for a moment. “I’m going to go so you can call Detective Lind. Maybe I can find Hannah somewhere.”
“Give her a little bit of time,” I said.
He nodded. In the doorway he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Kathleen,” he said, “maybe you can learn from my mistakes, too.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then I went down the hall to see if I could find Hercules. I unlocked the door to the workroom and looked inside. I couldn’t see him anywhere and I really didn’t think he’d be stubborn enough to walk through the door—so to speak—just because I’d told him not to. That was more Owen’s style.
I relocked the door, went back to my office and called the number I’d memorized from Detective Lind’s card. She told me she would send someone over for the box. When I stepped back into the hall, Hercules was standing in the staff room doorway.
“What were you doing in there?” I asked.
He looked back over his shoulder.
“Let me guess: being nosy, looking for something to eat that Roma has not okayed, and walking through walls just because you can.”
He gave an offhand meow. I took it as a yes to all three.
I leaned forward. “Come here. You need to go back into my office. The police are on their way.”
Hercules leaned sideways and looked toward the stairs.
“No. Marcus is gone. Someone is coming to get that box.” I wasn’t sure if that was what he’d been asking, but I like to keep him in the loop.
He yawned and walked past me into the office. I knew there was no point in locking the office door, but I did it anyway.
“Stay here. Please,” I said as I left. Hercules was sitting in the middle of my desk again, meticulously washing his face. He gave no sign that he’d heard me say anything at all.
The afternoon passed in a blur of activity. When school let out there was a rush of eighth-grade students from two middle school history classes whose teachers had specified they had to use at least one real book as part of the research assigned for an essay on the First World War.