“We don’t know that for sure, but it’s a pretty good bet he was working on that premise.”

  “Have you caught Fred Rawlins or the person who struck me?”

  “We’ll talk about that later. And if you don’t mind, I’ll ask the questions.”

  “Of course.”

  John cleared his throat. “I know you told Danny what happened to you yesterday, but I’d like to hear it for myself. So when did you happen to see Fred Rawlins and decide to follow him?”

  “I was leaving the house that we’re buying on Old Willows Road when I recognized Rawlins’s car as he drove by. There’s a noticeable dent on the rear door. Since I was going in the same direction, I thought I’d stay on his tail and see where he was heading.”

  “Was anyone following him?”

  I thought a minute. “There was a car behind him when I backed out of the driveway. After a few miles, it pulled into a driveway.”

  “Did you notice what it looked like? The style? The make?”

  I shook my head and immediately regretted it. “Not really. As I told Danny, it was a dark color and really beat up, like it was ready for the junkyard or wherever old cars go when they’re done for.”

  John’s eyes lit up for a second, then he recovered his solemn demeanor.

  I stared at him. “How stupid of me! The driver in the car was following Rawlins. I never made the connection till now.”

  “It’s only a possibility,” John said. He’s being kind, I thought. “Do you remember seeing that car again? Did the driver follow you to the Rizzos’ home?”

  “Not that I noticed, but whoever attacked me must have followed me there. I was too busy making sure that Fred Rawlins didn’t know I was spying on him. I didn’t hear the person sneak up on me.”

  “You told Danny that you didn’t see your assailant. Did you get a sense of his height? Notice a fragrance?”

  “I sensed he was taller than me—not sure why. Was it Tino Valdez? Have you brought him in for questioning?”

  “I did. Right now Valdez is cooling his heels down at the station. He denies being anywhere near you at the time you were attacked. The car you saw following Rawlins fits the description of the car we found at his house when we picked him up. But since you can’t ID him, I’ll be releasing him as soon as I run through his statement again, because I doubt he’ll change one word,” John said grimly. “And Rawlins is in the wind.”

  “What about Leslie Thompson?”

  “His mother said he never came home last night. But she said he often stays overnight with friends.”

  “Really? I find that very suspicious,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, Carrie. I plan to follow through on Leslie Thompson’s whereabouts yesterday, though honestly I don’t see him as your assailant.”

  “So that’s that,” I said flatly.” “Tino Valdez gets off scot-free because I never got to see my attacker, and the bank job money remains hidden away.”

  “Looks that way. We don’t think Rawlins managed to find it in the short time between your attack and the time he took off—no doubt frightened when he heard sounds outside the shed. Danny and another officer searched the shed, but they came up with zilch.”

  “Maybe the money was never there,” I said.

  “A possibility.” John stood. “That’s it for now, Carrie. Take it easy. You want to be well rested for your big day.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  After John left, I straightened up the kitchen and gave myself the luxury of watching one of my favorite TV shows that I’d recorded. And so it was eleven fifteen when I arrived at work. I sensed something was wrong the moment I stepped inside the building. A smog of anxiety permeated the air. Smoky Joe noticed it as well. Instead of running off as usual when I opened the door of his carrier, he rubbed my leg and meowed before sedately starting his round of social visits.

  Evelyn appeared as soon as I entered my office. “Carrie, my dear, prepare yourself for a piece of bad news. The diary’s been stolen.”

  “What!”

  “Shh,” she admonished me.

  “No one called to tell me.”

  “Sally and the others figured the news would hold until you came to work.” Evelyn eyed me carefully. “I heard about your unfortunate misadventure yesterday afternoon. Are you sure you’re well enough to work today?”

  “My head hurts, but I can manage to do some paperwork. Did you see what happened? Who stole the diary?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “Sadly, I wasn’t here when it happened.”

  My office door opened and Trish appeared.

  “I thought I heard voices,” she said.

  “I was on the phone with a patron,” I fibbed.

  “I’m so sorry, Carrie,” Trish said. “I know how important Verity’s diary is to you.”

  “And to the library. Do you know if Sally’s in her office?”

  “I’ve no idea, but she might be. We all hurried to the Historical Room when Max told us what had happened. Sally stayed there till John and Danny showed up. They left only a few minutes ago.”

  I walked over to Sally’s office and found her on the phone. She ended the call and shook her head in disgust. “After that last attempt, I should have insisted that the alarm company arm the Historical Room that very same day. They’ve agreed to send someone here tomorrow—now that there’s nothing to protect.”

  “We’ll get the diary back,” I said more forcefully than I felt. “At least we know who’s responsible.”

  “You think Winnie hired someone else to steal it?”

  “My money’s on her son.”

  “Leslie? The boy has problems, but he’s never stolen anything, as far as I know.”

  Boy? “Then tell me, why was Leslie in the library yesterday, when I’d never seen him here before, and in the new section, no less? I know he went into the Historical Room, though he didn’t stay long.”

  “Carrie, you ran into Leslie before you went home at five,” Sally said.

  “Yes, I did. Did anyone see him leave the library?”

  “Not that I know of. It’s not something we keep track of.”

  When I didn’t answer, a light went on in her head. “Are you saying he stayed here after the library was closed for the night?”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Did Max or anyone see him leave?”

  “No,” Sally admitted, “but after you told me that Leslie was in the library, I had both Max and Pete look for him in every nook and cranny of the building, including the attic and the basement. They found no trace of Leslie. Pete worked late last night. He said he looked in at the Historical Room before he set the alarm and went home. The diary was safely locked in its case.”

  “The theft happened after hours, when the library was locked and the alarm was armed,” I said.

  “If that’s the case, how did Leslie exit the library without setting off the alarm?”

  “That’s easy,” I scoffed. “Fred Rawlins knew how to bypass the alarm when he broke into the library. He must have told Leslie how to get out without setting it off. Further proof that they’re in on it together.”

  Sally looked sad. “Unfortunately, everything you’ve said makes sense. I wonder what Leslie and Rawlins plan to do with the diary.”

  “Sell it. Certainly not give it to Winnie.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Mother and son never got on.”

  “What did John have to say about the theft?”

  “The usual—he’ll question the suspects: Leslie, Rawlins, and Winnie.”

  “I think he’s going to have a hard time finding the first two.”

  “My thought exactly,” Sally agreed. “But how are you, Carrie? I’m so sorry you were assaulted while you were following Fred Rawlins. What on earth made you take such a risk so close to your wedding?”

  I laughed. “Good question. I recognized Rawlins’s car and decided to follow him. I didn’t think I was in any danger, but obviously I wasn’t the only one tailing him. I suppose it was Tino Valdez, or even Leslie Thompson.”

  “I can’t see Leslie striking you like that. He was such a sweet child. Shy and always a bit strange, but sweet,” Sally said. “As a child he would cling to his mother, which exasperated Winnie. She never was patient with him.”

  “Leslie’s the same age as Billy Carpenter, Luke Rizzo, and Tino Valdez. Was Leslie friendly with them in high school?”

  Sally shrugged. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t think so. Those three used to get into trouble. I don’t remember Leslie’s name ever being linked with theirs.” She gave a start. “You don’t think Leslie was involved in that bank robbery. Or do you?”

  “Not necessarily. But we know Leslie’s gotten involved with Fred Rawlins. Could be he lied and told Rawlins that he and Billy were good friends in high school. Or even that he did take part in the bank heist.”

  “So that’s why Rawlins drove off with him after his spat with Winnie,” Sally mused.

  “A good possibility.”

  * * *

  I returned to my own office and had no sooner started wading through my emails when the door flung open and Angela rushed in. Trish must have texted her the moment I’d returned from Sally’s office.

  “Poor baby, how are you feeling? Does your head hurt?” Angela asked as she gently rubbed my back.

  “It does, but I’m okay.”

  She looked at me carefully. “You know about the diary.”

  “Yes.”

  Marion joined us, a mug of tea in her hand. “Have some chamomile tea. It soothes and it heals.”

  “Thank you.” I took a sip and set down the mug. I hated chamomile tea and only drank Earl Grey when I was sick.

  Marion’s assistant Gayle poked her head in my office. “I just wanted to say hi and see how you’re feeling.”

  I looked at the faces of my dear friends. They cared that I’d been injured and knew that the theft of the diary was both a personal affront and a deep loss.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I love you all and appreciate that you care. I promise to have a quiet day and not do anything rash. You can all go back to work—except for Trish who belongs here.”

  They proceeded to leave, but not until each had gently hugged me, murmuring how glad she was that I was all right. It was touching and a bit irritating. I didn’t like being treated like an impetuous child. At the same time, I felt guilty for having scared them. I’d been reckless trailing after a known felon, and I now had two painful bumps on my head as a result. Trish said nothing, though her knowing expression spoke volumes.

  I immersed myself in library work until John called half an hour later. “I figured I’d give you some time to recover from one assault before talking to you about the burgled diary.”

  “What is there to say? It’s gone. I think Leslie Thompson stole it. He stayed in the library after hours, removed the diary, and got out safely because someone told him how to open the glass case and bypass the security system.”

  John exhaled loudly. “I’d say there’s a good chance that’s what happened.”

  “Have you spoken to Leslie?”

  “Nowhere to be found. Neither is Fred Rawlins.”

  “What did Winnie Thompson have to say?” I asked.

  “She had no idea where her son was. She said he never came home last night.” John laughed. “She asked me plenty of questions about the theft and got real snippy when I couldn’t provide answers for her.”

  “She must have been angry that someone—very probably her own son—beat her to it.”

  “Danny and a few others are out there looking for Rawlins and Leslie Thompson. Meanwhile, I have Tino Valdez in one of our cells. He finally all but admitted to attacking you yesterday. I’m charging him with your assault.”

  * * *

  I didn’t feel up to going out for lunch. Angela and I ordered sandwiches from the Cozy Corner Café, and we ate them in the new staff room. The room was spacious and comfortable, with a table by the window, large enough to accommodate eight people.

  “Just think, when you come back to work next month you’ll be Mrs. Dylan Avery,” Angela said.

  “Yes, but I’ll still be known professionally as Carrie Singleton.”

  Angela thought a minute. “Don’t tell me you’re going to make your kids have a hyphenated last name with six syllables.”

  “I wasn’t planning to, but then I’ve never given the subject much thought.”

  “We really have to consider how a first name goes with our last name. I think Angela Prisco sounds okay. Steve Prisco sounds great. I suppose most boys’ names go well with Prisco. We’ll have to be more careful with a girl’s name. Though she’ll probably marry and change her last name. Or”—Angela got a dreamy look in her eyes—“she can use a nickname that she likes.”

  My mouth fell open. “Ange, are you trying to tell me something?”

  Joy lit up her face. “I am!”

  I rushed over to her and hugged her tight. “You’re going to be a mother!”

  “And you’re going to be an aunt.”

  * * *

  Back at my office, I discovered I couldn’t stop grinning. Good thing Trish was staffing the hospitality desk, since I didn’t know if I could keep from telling her Angela’s secret, at least for the next month. My best friend was going to be a mommy! She and Steve were going to be wonderful, loving parents. Their wedding had only been a year ago, and now their family was starting to grow!

  I texted Dylan to tell him Angela was pregnant. Wonderful news! he texted back. How’s your head?

  Hurts a bit, but I’m okay.

  I’ll be home early, he replied.

  The door flew open, and a boy about eighteen ran into my office. He was tall and gangly and out of breath.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Carrie Singleton?”

  “I am.”

  “My name is Albi. Alberto Valdez. I need your help.”

  His dark brown eyes shimmered with fear, concern, and determination.

  I grimaced. “You’re related to Tino Valdez.”

  “I’m his brother.” Albi’s ears turned red as he looked down at the floor. “He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “He gets confused, and when he’s confused he sometimes does things he shouldn’t.”

  Like striking women? Killing his friends?

  “I apologize for Tino,” he said softly.

  “Did you send me those emails?” I asked.

  Albi Valdez nodded, still not meeting my gaze.

  I gestured to Trish’s empty chair behind her desk. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you want me to know.”

  He hesitated a minute, then did as I’d asked.

  “Tino’s in jail,” he said.

  “I know. How do you know he attacked me?”

  “He called me last night and told me what happened.”

  “Happened? Nothing happened. Your brother assaulted me.”

  Albi cringed. “Tino was tailing Rawlins, and you were kinda … in the way,” he finished lamely.

  “Your brother was hoping Fred Rawlins would lead him to the money that Tino stole with his two dead friends.”

  Albi’s glance moved from me to the floor. He wanted both to tell me something and to simultaneously fly out of my office. “Kinda. It’s complicated.”

  As much as he wanted my help, the kid was still on the fence. A compelling nudge on my part was called for.

  “Complicated, eh? Did your brother kill his pals?”

  “No! I swear he didn’t! You saw the photos I sent you, of Rawlins going into Luke’s apartment and then leaving. He must have killed him, even though he didn’t get what he was looking for.”

  “The money your brother and his two dead friends stole from the bank.”

  Albi nodded once. “But Tino’s no killer. It had to be Rawlins who murdered Luke. Only Rawlins couldn’t make Luke tell him where he hid the money, so Tino’s been following him. And now he’s in jail.”

  Albi’s held his head in his hands. “You have to convince Lieutenant Mathers that Tino didn’t kill anyone. He has to get out so he can …”

  “So he can what?” I asked.

  “Nothing!” Albi shouted. “I just want him out of jail.”

  I looked at him. Something else was going on in his brain. Something I didn’t understand. “You do know it’s going to come out that your brother was in on the bank robbery. He will go to prison.”

  “Oh yeah? Is there any evidence he was in on that heist? Any proof whatsoever?” Now Albi was on the offensive.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “And I don’t exactly know what you want from me.”

  “To help Tino! To prove Fred Rawlins murdered Luke so my brother gets released and can …”

  “Released to do what?” I asked.

  Albi sprang out of the chair. “Coming here was a mistake. Sorry, Ms. Singleton. I wanted you to know my brother’s no killer. Again, I’m sorry that he hurt you.”

  He flew out of the office. Something else was bugging Alberto Valdez that was more troublesome than the charges that would be brought against his brother for assaulting me.

  I was still staring at the slammed door when Evelyn appeared. “That’s one troubled young man,” she commented as she perched on the corner of Trish’s desk.

  “You think?” I scoffed. “First he sends me anonymous emails; then he sets up a meeting and doesn’t show up. Just now he stormed in here like a tornado, wanting me to convince John that his brother is innocent of the two homicides and didn’t mean to hurt me, in hopes that John will release him.”

  “So I heard,” Evelyn said, “and I find it as puzzling as you do.” She cocked her head. “It’s almost as though Tino needs to be free in order to do something.”

  “Do what?” I pounded my fist on my desk in frustration. “Find the money from the bank robbery? That’s what he’s been chasing.”

  “Albi seems to be under a tremendous pressure on his brother’s behalf,” Evelyn said. “He wants to convince you that Fred Rawlins killed Luke Rizzo.”

  “But why didn’t Albi go directly to the police? And let’s not forget that brother Tino was willing to knock me down because I got in between him and Rawlins, whom he assumed was about to find the money.”