Double Booked For Death

A few seconds later, the screen again switched over to a single-channel view, this time of the store’s side door as it slowly opened. Reese and Jake slipped past it and then carefully closed the door after them.

Darla stared more closely at the laptop, straining her ears to hear any sound from the store. She saw Reese gesture Jake to move in one direction while he took another. The screen flashed from image to image as they passed each of the downstairs cameras. Then she heard Reese’s voice break through the silence to say, “Ms. Plinski, this is Detective Reese. We know you’re in the store. Stay right where you are. We’re going to turn on the lights.”

“Oh my gracious!” she heard Mary Ann exclaim again as someone—presumably Jake—flipped on the lights closest to the inside stairway.

The camera angle changed again as Jake came striding past and headed for the spot behind the shelves where they’d last seen the woman vanish. Darla heard murmured voices, though she couldn’t make out the words. A few moments later, Reese was walking toward the camera. One leather-clad arm supported Mary Ann, whose wrinkled visage reflected both fear and embarrassment. Jake followed after them, stopping to gaze up at the camera and wave in Darla’s direction.

“We’ve got her,” she called. “Reese is bringing her up. Once they’re out, I’ll hit the lights and lock the store, and then head up myself.”

Darla kept an eye on the screen, watching as the shop’s bulbs dimmed again. She saw Jake make her way back to the door, which opened and closed again. Then the screen subsided into the usual six-segment view and remained that way.

She shut down the sound option just as a knock came at the door. She rushed to open it, finding a teary Mary Ann clad in a purple tracksuit, and a rueful-looking Reese. Jake was right behind them, looking equally dismayed.

“Oh, my dear,” the old woman cried, wringing her hands as Darla ushered her inside, “I am so sorry. Truly, I didn’t mean any harm.”

“I know that,” Darla assured her as she settled the trembling woman on the horsehair couch. “Here, let me make you a cup of tea, and then you can explain everything.”

By the time she returned from the kitchen with a pot of boiling water and a teabag in a cup, Mary Ann was looking calmer. She stroked a docile Hamlet, who lay sprawled across her bony knees. The cat shot Darla a reproving glare, as if blaming her for the situation, and then sprang off Mary Ann’s lap to stalk his way over to the window overlooking the street.

“Thank you, my dear,” the old woman said, her voice stronger now as she accepted the cup and began dunking the teabag. Her glance encompassing all of them, she sighed and said, “I suppose I had better come clean.”

They waited while she took a sip and then set the cup on the table before her.

“I’m afraid this is most embarrassing,” she began, once more clutching her hands together. “You see, a few months before Dee passed away, I found myself in something of a financial pickle. Normally, I would have gone to Brother for help, but business had been poor over the past year, and he was in monetary straits of his own. But Dee was—pardon the expression—rolling in dough from all her ex-husbands, so I asked her for a small loan.”

She reached again for her teacup and took another steadying sip.

“Of course, I insisted on giving her some collateral. I had a very old book—well, technically, it was Brother’s, too, since it had come from our parents’ estate—which was of some value. And then, silly me, I discovered an old insurance policy that I’d forgotten about. I cashed it in, intending to repay Dee, but she refused to accept the money. She said that I should consider the loan a gift, from one friend to another.”

“But what’s wrong with that?” Darla asked, confused.

Mary Ann gave a helpless wave. “Oh, yes, it was kind of her, but what I really wanted was my book back. It was something of a family heirloom, and I knew that Brother would eventually ask what had happened to it. I tried to explain that to her, but you know how stubborn some old folks can be.”

“Stubborn as some young folks,” Jake said with a smile, earning a grateful nod from the old woman.

Mary Ann went on to tell how they finally had compromised. Dee would accept half the money she had loaned Mary Ann as payment in full, but she wanted to finish reading the volume before returning it to her friend. Seeing no other recourse—“Really, your great-aunt was quite strong headed about the whole situation”—Mary Ann finally had agreed to her terms. The only problem was that Dee had suffered a stroke and passed away before she’d gotten around to giving it back.

“And ever since then,” Mary Ann finished with a sigh, “I’ve been trying to find my book.”

“But how in the world did you get in without setting off the alarm?” Darla wanted to know. “You don’t have a key or the alarm code.”