“She might enjoy the event at the library Saturday night. Four of the movie actors will be reading Gurney’s The Cocktail Hour. The seats in the meeting room are all taken, but the movie company’s sound engineer is setting up a system so patrons can sit upstairs and hear the play being read. I’ll reserve two seats if you like.”

  Billy laughed. “Just like the radio. Thanks, Carrie. I think she’d like that.”

  “I’m glad you’ll have this chance to spend time with your mother.”

  “Me too.”

  * * *

  The following day, as Angela and I walked over to the Cozy Corner Café, I told her that Billy’s mother was coming to pay him a visit.

  “I hope this isn’t a mistake,” Angela said.

  I shot her a look of surprise. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Billy must be furious that she abandoned him and his sister. I bet they get into an argument first thing.”

  “Hopefully, she’ll tell him why she left,” I said. “Not that it excuses what she did, but it will explain why she acted that way.”

  “Ha! And never contacted him or Daphne in twenty years,” Angela said.

  I prodded her. “What’s really bothering you?”

  Angela exhaled a deep sigh. “My brother. I keep wishing he wasn’t coming to the wedding.”

  “Angela!”

  “I told you Tommy did really mean things to me when I was growing up. And the one time I told my mother, she downplayed it. Well, the last time he was in town, I brought it up. At first he denied it. Then he began laughing in that stupid way of his—the way he laughs when he knows he’s done something bad. I yelled at him before he could spew out one of his usual excuses. He yelled back. And so it went until my father came into the den to ask what was going on. Tommy ran out of my parents’ house. He came back late that night and flew back to Hollywood the next morning, earlier than he’d planned. That was two years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I stopped walking and put my arm around her.

  Angela shrugged. “Anyway, my mother insists he’s changed. He has a new girlfriend he’s bringing to the wedding, and he’s working on a movie that he claims has great promise. Ha! I keep worrying he’ll do something stupid on the most special day of my life and ruin everything.”

  I hugged her close. “Guys grow up. My cousin Randy used to tease me mercilessly. He turned into a really good guy. And Tommy will only be here a few days, right?”

  Angela nodded. “I know. It’s crazy. Lately, I keep thinking of things that might go wrong.”

  “Nothing will go wrong at your wedding,” I said. “I promise.”

  We started walking again. “Getting back to Billy and his mother,” Angela said. “She’s had plenty of time to think about everything you and Dylan told her. I suppose part of the reason she’s coming to visit Billy is so she can tell John Mathers what she knows or suspects.”

  “Let’s hope she doesn’t chicken out.”

  * * *

  That afternoon I received a phone call from Charlie Stanton.

  “Hi, Carrie. Any chance your library’s meeting room is free tonight or tomorrow evening? We’d like to do a run-through of the reading in the library, if possible.”

  I glanced at my schedule. “You’re in luck. A program that was scheduled for tomorrow evening was canceled. You can have the room from seven till nine.”

  “Awesome!” he boomed over the phone. “We start filming extra early tomorrow morning and should be finished by three the latest. That gives everyone some time to relax before coming over. Thanks.”

  “You’re most welcome,” I told him. “Everyone’s looking forward to this event. I’ve ordered forty folding chairs for the patrons who will be sitting upstairs.”

  “Ralph, our sound engineer, will be coming along to set up the sound system that will transmit the reading to the upstairs area. By the way, you can tell your patrons they’re welcome to watch our rehearsal if they like. As long as they realize it’s a rehearsal and we’ll stop occasionally for various reasons. Some people find that pretty damn annoying.”

  “I’ll be sure to mention it,” I said.

  I posted about the rehearsal on the library’s Facebook page, then went to tell Sally. She was delighted, as I’d known she would be. Any program or event that drew patrons to the library gave her joy.

  At five o’clock, I put Smoky Joe in his carrier and headed out to my car. I drove to my favorite drugstore, which was a few blocks off the Green. “I won’t be long,” I promised Smoky Joe as I locked the door behind me.

  I was trying to decide between two brands of sunscreen when I heard someone chuckle. “Well, well, look who’s here.”

  I glanced up at John Mathers. “Hi, John. What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think? Shopping. Same as you. Sylvia asked me to pick up her prescription, and I wandered down this aisle.”

  “I need some sunscreen. That is, I don’t really need it. I still have some from two years ago, but I’m afraid it’s no longer effective.”

  Why am I babbling about sunscreen? More to the point, why am I feeling so uncomfortable?

  I reached for the brand I’d been favoring and drew a deep breath. “Anything new on the murder investigation?”

  John shrugged. “You know how it is. We check out every lead, then recheck.”

  That’s about as vague as you can get. Clearly, he’s not planning on telling me a thing. “I’m sure you do. Thank God there haven’t been any more murders.”

  John winked at me. “We haven’t talked in a while. Is there anything you’ve learned recently that might have bearing on the homicides?”

  My ears grew warm. I knew they must be blazing red. “Recently? Let’s see. I’ve heard that Alvin Tripp had taken an interest in Patricia Harper around the time her husband was murdered. Do you think he was her secret lover?”

  “The secret lover who supposedly murdered her husband and more recently her daughter and Ilana Reingold?” John burst out laughing. “Come on, Carrie. You can do better than that. If you heard that Al Tripp was once interested in Pattie Harper, you must also know he had a foolproof alibi the night Chet Harper was murdered.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I admitted.

  “I was thinking about more recent developments. Like Pattie Harper’s upcoming visit to Clover Ridge.”

  “Oh. You know about that.”

  “Why am I not surprised that you know it too?” John put on an expression of fake innocence. “But then, you’ve already met the mysterious lady.”

  I sighed. “Okay, you got me. Dylan and I went to see her last week.”

  John shook his head. “You should have told me, Carrie. You should have told me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly. But he was halfway to the register and didn’t hear.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  My mother called that evening just as I’d finished cleaning up after dinner.

  “Carrie dear, how are you? I hope to see you tomorrow evening when Tom and the others come to the library for their rehearsal.”

  “I’ll be there, Mom.”

  “I’m so glad. It feels like ages since we’ve gotten together.”

  “How are things?” I asked. “How’s Tom?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Dirk couldn’t stop raving about the two scenes they shot today with Tom and Marissa.” She lowered her voice. “If you ask me—I hate to speak ill of the dead—but Marissa is a much better actress than Ilana. Tom simply glows when they’re on camera together.”

  A glowing Tom. He sounds radioactive. I stifled a giggle.

  “This movie is turning out to be such a godsend,” my mother went on. “Tom’s agent called to let us know that two directors want him to read for parts. Not leads, but very substantial roles.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said, meaning it.

  “And how are you and Dylan doing?”

  “We’re good,” I said. “He might be able to come to the rehearsal tomorrow.”

  “I’d love to see him. We really should make a dinner date. Before you know it, they’ll be finished filming and we’ll be heading back to California.”

  “When do you think that will be?” I asked.

  “Dirk refuses to say, except that it’s sooner than he’d thought. After Ilana was killed, there was talk of scuttling the movie, but Charlie, Serena, and Tom were all for soldiering on. And with Marissa being such a professional, they were able to get back to work and shoot scenes more quickly than expected.”

  “I’m glad, especially for you and Tom.”

  My mother sighed. “Tom’s happy that people are beginning to recognize his talent. But he and all the others are upset that there hasn’t been any progress in the investigation into Ilana’s murder.”

  “I can understand that,” I said.

  “Carrie dear, have you heard of any new developments? Are the police interviewing any new suspects?”

  Ah, so that’s why you called! “Sorry, Mom. Nothing I know of.”

  “You’re good friends with Lieutenant Mathers. He didn’t happen to bring you up to date on the investigation?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you haven’t found out anything that points to a guilty party?”

  “Sorry, Mom. I haven’t.”

  Was that a tsk I heard? “I’ve told everyone in the cast and crew how you virtually solved the last few homicide cases here in Clover Ridge single-handedly. I showed them the articles I printed out of all those online stories about you!”

  “Thanks, Mom. I wish you hadn’t.”

  “Why? What are you ashamed of? You should be proud that you’re so clever. I’m very proud of you.”

  I let out a humph of exasperation. “Did it ever occur to you that if someone in the movie crew murdered Daphne and Ilana, he’d be angry if he found out I was trying to track him down and might come after me?”

  After a pause, my mother said, “I think you’re being very unreasonable, Carrie. I doubt very strongly that anyone involved in the movie is the murderer. First your police chief suspected Dirk, then he suspected Tom. He couldn’t hold either of them because they’re innocent.”

  When I remained silent, my mother went on. “I’d think you’d want to find this murderer. Especially since your friend Daphne was his first victim.”

  And you’re hoping I’ll tell you everything I learn so you can impress the movie people. That’s not going to happen. “I have no clues to chase down,” I said. “I’m leaving this investigation to Lieutenant Mathers.”

  “Well, let me know if you happen to find out anything, okay?”

  “Of course. See you tomorrow night.”

  * * *

  The following day, I left the library at five o’clock sharp. As soon as I got home, I fed Smoky Joe his dinner, then ate a tuna salad sandwich and made one for Dylan, which he ate on our drive back to the library for the read-through of The Cocktail Hour.

  We hadn’t had a chance to talk for any length of time during the past two days, so I filled him in on my conversations with my mother and John on the way to the library.

  “John’s pissed at me for not telling him we went to see Sheila.”

  Dylan laughed. “Which means he’s pissed at me as well.”

  I grinned. “I’m glad I have company.”

  “He’ll get over it. Next topic. Why are you annoyed with your mother?”

  I exhaled loudly. “Because she only called to pick my brain about the murders.”

  “So? What’s unusual about that?”

  I stared at him. “She’s my mother. She should be interested in me, her daughter. Not using me so she can impress the movie people.”

  Dylan snorted. “This is Brianna—er, Linda—we’re talking about. Have you forgotten what she’s like?”

  “No, but I was hoping that after staying with me, she had changed.”

  “Uh-huh. A woman in her midfifties makes a startling behavioral change after staying with her daughter for—how many days was it? Two? Three?”

  I stared at Dylan, then burst out laughing. “Okay. Point taken. She didn’t change. She won’t change. She—she’s the same as she’s always been.”

  Dylan patted my hand. “Now you’re learning.”

  “I hope so. For some reason, though, I keep expecting her to relate differently to me,” I grumbled.

  “Carrie, your mother loves you, but her number-one concern in life is her husband, Tom.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “And once you truly understand and accept that, it won’t hurt as much as it does now.”

  We drove on in silence as I thought that over. We must have traveled a few miles when Dylan said, “Of course, there’s no telling how things will shift once she becomes a grandmother.”

  My mouth fell open. When I managed to speak, I said, “Now where did that come from?”

  Dylan chuckled instead of answering.

  The library parking lot was full, what with all the regular patrons as well as those planning to attend tonight’s rehearsal, so we parked on the street.

  “It’s only six thirty,” I said. “I didn’t expect this many people to turn up for a read-through.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Dylan said. “The public views actors as icons, even when they’re not big names like Brad Pitt and Nicole Kidman. I imagine the people coming here tonight want to hear what Tom and Charlie and the others say to one another when they’re not reading their lines.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  The back door was locked, which was very unusual, so we walked around to the front of the library. Inside, Sally was counting heads as people entered. “Thank God you’re here! Marion and Harvey are holding back the horde. They have instructions to let those people to whom I’ve given numbers go downstairs at a quarter to seven. There are fire laws and we have limited seating.”

  She eyed Dylan. “Dylan, would you and Carrie be so kind as to go down to the meeting room and—once they’re allowed downstairs—urge the audience to take seats ASAP?”

  “Glad to be of service,” he said, smiling.

  I returned waves and greetings as we made our way through the crowd gathered at the top of the staircase. Marion, the children’s librarian, and Harvey, the head of our computer department, looked harried as they stood guard.

  “Lucky you,” Harvey said as Dylan and I walked past him.

  I looked forward to the fall when work would begin on the library expansion, which would include a stadium-seating auditorium with a capacity four times the number of seats we had now.

  “Yoo-hoo, Carrie!”

  As I entered the meeting room, Charlie Stanton waved to me from his seat behind the long table he was sharing with Tom, Serena, and a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair who I assumed was Marissa Varig. Tom was listening to something Marissa was saying, while Serena was deep in conversation with Hattie Fein, who stood at her side.

  Always the hair and makeup artist, I thought as Hattie smoothed a strand of Serena’s hair in place. A man wearing earphones—no doubt Ralph, the sound engineer—was snaking a wire across the floor behind the table so the reading could be heard upstairs the evening of the actual performance.

  My mother broke off chatting with Liane Walters and turned to Dylan and me. “I’m so glad to see you, Carrie. And Dylan, of course!” She hugged us as though she were welcoming us to the event.

  Now that her marital relationship had dramatically improved, my mother had reverted to true form. My boyfriend quickly faded from the scene like the investigator par excellence he was, leaving me to deal with my mother.

  “I was just suggesting to Liane the idea of inviting the local TV station here to do a feature on the reading,” she said. “It would show the library in a good light and provide great publicity for the movie.”

  “Doesn’t Firestone Productions have its own publicist?” I asked.

  My mother dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “They sent a reporter here when the filming began, but nothing’s been in the papers or on TV since then.”

  I refrained from mentioning that Ilana’s murder had received plenty of publicity in the news.

  Like Dylan, Liane had found the opportunity to escape my mother’s attentions. I was about to move on too when she grabbed my arm as though she knew what I was planning.

  “Carrie dear. I’d like you to meet Marissa Varig. Such a lovely young woman.” Not like Ilana, you mean.

  “Mom, I really have to—” I began, to no avail. She practically dragged me over to the table, which caught the attention of the others.

  “Marissa, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Carrie. She’s responsible for every program and event the library presents. Carrie, Marissa is an up-and-coming movie star.” My mother winked. “I expect her to be nominated for an Oscar one of these days.”

  Marissa held out a slim hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carrie.”

  “Likewise,” I said.

  Marissa tilted her head as she smiled. Every movement was fluid. Graceful. “Tom and your mother have been telling me that you’re also a detective. In fact, they said you’ve helped the police catch murderers.”

  “A few.” I felt my ears grow warm with embarrassment.

  Marissa scoffed. “A few murderers are more than I’ve ever caught.”

  “We’re hoping Carrie will find poor Ilana’s killer,” Charlie chimed in.

  “Yes, indeed,” Serena agreed. “Especially since the official investigation has come to a dead standstill. Pardon the pun.”

  Marissa shivered. “I almost didn’t take this job because I’d heard of the two murders in town, but Dirk convinced me I’d be safe.”

  Charlie grinned. “What he did was offer you enough greenbacks to overcome your fears.”

  That earned him a roar of laughter from everyone present, including Marissa. I shot Charlie a look of admiration. He had the rare ability to say what was on everyone’s mind without rubbing people the wrong way.

  “Carrie, have there been any new developments in the case?” Tom asked.

  I didn’t answer. Hattie had just turned her head, and I was too busy staring at the barrette holding back her curly black hair. It appeared to be made of braided silver rope and was decorated with an array of purple, copper, and gold-colored beads.