Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (smart books to read TXT) 📕

interested in, not what they were interested in. Charity was a bright girl, and she was more than welcome in our book club, but if a fifteen-year-old would rather read modern science fiction than the choice of her mother’s book club, that was fine with me. “The meeting’s tomorrow night, Mrs. Peterson. It’s too late for Charity to read the original, in any event. I hope part of the discussion gets into modern adaptations of the original novel, and Charity’s contribution will be welcome.”

“If you say so, Lucy.”

“What did you think of it?”

“Me? I uh … I thought it was … maybe a bit longer than it needed to be.”

“It’s not long compared to other novels of the era.”

“If you say so. I don’t see Ronald yet, but it must be time to go.” She bustled away. Mrs. Peterson rarely read the club’s selection. She came to our book club because she thought her daughters should be reading classic literature. I worried she’d turn them off reading for life.

And wouldn’t that be a tragedy.

I climbed the stairs. Eager little wildlife adventurers rushed past me as not-so-eager parents yelled after them not to run on the stairs.

“Have fun!” I called to Ronald as he came out of the children’s library.

The door to Charlene’s third-floor office was cracked open, and I decided to stick my head in and say hi. She was bent over her computer, typing away. Her ever-present earbuds clung to her ears as she worked to the music she loved so much. I tapped lightly, and she didn’t react. I knocked harder.

She just about leapt out of her chair. She spun around so quickly she knocked her elbow into her bookcase. Her office isn’t very large. “Lucy,” she snapped. “What are you doing sneaking up on me?” She hit the power button on her computer monitor, and the screen went black.

“Sorry. I wasn’t sneaking up. I wanted to say hi and ask how things are going with your visiting professors.”

“They’re going fine. I’m busy; is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I guess not.” I backed away. Charlene rolled across the few inches of floor and slammed the door in my face.

I closed my iPad with a sigh. I’d been looking at properties for sale that Connor and I might be interested in, and I was mightily discouraged. Not much was available that I liked and that fell within our price range.

I could always move into the house Connor was renting. That had been suggested, but, as nice as it was, it was Connor’s house. We wanted a place that would be our house from the beginning.

I looked around the Lighthouse Aerie—the curving whitewashed walls, the colorful cushions, the bright watercolors of Outer Banks scenes, the single tall window with the comfortable window seat and great view.

The bed taking up most of the available space, the two chairs around the tiny table in the kitchen that wasn’t even a kitchen but more a nook in which one could throw together a quick meal.

Not exactly a great home for a newly engaged couple.

The phone rang, and to my surprise, it was Detective Watson, and he wanted to speak to me. “In person.”

“What about?”

“Why don’t we discuss that when we meet? I could use a walk in the marsh, get my head cleared. Ten minutes?”

“Sure.” I hung up before I remembered that this morning the marsh wasn’t going to be any sort of head-clearing place—not with Ronald, his pack of children, and all the helpers.

“Feel like a walk?” I asked Fluffy.

She seemed to recognize the word and jumped to her feet, ears up, tail swinging, entire rear end wagging. I’d tried a few simple commands on her—sit, stay. She’d responded, so she clearly had some training.

I got the pink leash off the coat hook, snapped it onto her pink collar, and picked her up. Charles was downstairs, hard at work in the library. I hoped Charles wouldn’t realize that the dog didn’t have to work but spent the day lazing around, snoozing, going for walks (outside!), and keeping me company.

Charles on strike would not be a pleasant cat to live with.

I hadn’t made up my mind about whether to take Charles to live with Connor and me. Charles was the library cat. He’d been the library cat before I arrived, and he’d simply followed me upstairs one day after closing and made himself at home.

Would he miss me when I was gone?

Would he want to live in a house, even if I brought him to work every day?

I glanced at Charlene’s closed door when I passed. That incident earlier bothered me, a lot. It had been totally out of character for her. Charlene was a warm, friendly person. She was passionate about her work and always delighted in sharing that passion with anyone who showed an interest. She loved her music and wanted everyone else to love it too. That people fled when she tried to press her musical selections on them made her only try all the harder.

No one ever minded. Not too much, anyway, because everyone loved her.

Something was up with Charlene, and I feared I knew what it was. If she was falling in love with James under the nose of his wife, that could not possibly end well.

What about James himself? Did he return Charlene’s feelings? Was he having fun stringing her along, or did he simply not realize what was happening with her?

The latter was possible. He was quiet but generally friendly to everyone. Had Charlene mistaken that friendliness for something more personal?

What a mess.

Again, that led me to wonder what had caused Evangeline to react so strongly to James. He’d said he’d not previously been to America since he was a child. Was that true? If he was a cad, cheating on his wife, giving Charlene false hope, what else might he be capable of?

Fluffy was sniffing a patch of grass and I was reminding myself that I’d not be thanked for interfering in