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  “We’re off, Dad,” Dina said. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bring everything to the house, Dina, and leave it in the hall.” He lowered his voice. “But lock the sapphire and diamond set in my office safe. That goes back to Sheffield Jewelers tomorrow morning.”

  So that expensive necklace and matching earrings didn’t even belong to him. He’d borrowed them for show! I couldn’t bear to spend another minute with this man. Patrons stopped me to say how much they’d enjoyed the program as I headed toward the exit, where Max, our burly head custodian, was standing, broom in tow, ready to put the room in order once everyone had gone.

  “Big crowd,” he commented as patrons walked past us. “I suppose people want to know how not to get taken when they buy a piece of jewelry.”

  “The audience enjoyed it.”

  Max gestured with his chin. “Benton never misses a chance to do a bit of business.”

  I turned in time to see him pocketing what looked like a check, then handing a small box to a blonde woman. I felt a stab of anger at the idea of his making money here in the library. And yet our guest chefs were allowed to sell their books at their presentations, as were visiting authors. Still, the idea of someone selling expensive jewelry here rankled.

  Especially someone who was a thief twice over.

  “Go on home, Carrie. I’m flicking the lights,” Max said.

  I waited in the hall until the last stragglers had headed upstairs, Dina Parr and her father’s assistant among them. The blonde woman hurried after them, leaving Barton to check his cell phone before gathering up his computer and leather bag.

  I climbed the stairs to the main level, which was dimly lit and unoccupied as far as I could see. It irked me that Benton had managed to present himself as a solid member of the community when in reality he was a thief no better than my father. Did his wife know? Did Dina? I felt a stab of envy. They seemed to go about their daily lives in blissful ignorance, not suffering the shame that never left me because everyone in Clover Ridge knew that Jim Singleton was a thief who’d done time in prison.

  I used the ladies’ room, then walked to my office to collect my jacket and pocketbook. I was unlocking the door when I heard male voices. I peered around the corner. Two men faced each other in the main room. It was too dark for me to make out more than their silhouettes.

  “You keep away from her, you hear, if you know what’s good for you.” The angry words were spoken by a large man with broad shoulders.

  The other man let loose a laugh with fake bravado. “You’re crazy. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” It was Benton Parr!

  I covered my mouth as the larger man drew back his arm and punched Benton in the face.

  “Ow! What did you do that for?”

  “You’ll get worse if you so much as call her!”

  Benton raced past me. He yanked open the back door to the parking lot and fled outside. The large broad-shouldered man followed at a slower pace, his chest heaving as he inhaled gulps of air. But he wasn’t gulping in air. He was sobbing.

  Chapter Four

  Who was he? Driving home, I marveled at Benton Parr’s colorful life. Clearly, he was having an affair with the man’s wife. The fifty-something jeweler was not only a thief, he was also an adulterer. I shook my head in amazement. Benton Parr, you’re some of piece of work!

  I considered calling Lieutenant John Mathers to tell him what I’d seen. The man had assaulted Benton in the library, my workplace. Surely this was a matter for the police. But knowing my father’s connection to Benton kept me from making the call.

  Smoky Joe was waiting for me at home. He meowed noisily as he wove between my legs until I set down a dish with a few late-night treats.

  “Here you go, Smoky Boy. Eat up.”

  I undressed and got ready for bed, musing that despite my personal reasons to dislike Benton Parr, tonight’s program had been a huge success with the patrons. As I brushed my teeth, I reveled in the fact that I didn’t have to go to work until one the following day. Which meant I could watch TV till the wee hours of the morning.

  * * *

  Wednesday morning I was enjoying my second cup of coffee when the landline phone rang. Did Sally need me to come in early for some reason? My pulse quickened. Or had Dylan found a free moment in his busy schedule to call me?

  “Carrie, you have to come and get me out of here!”

  “Jim? Where are you?”

  “In jail, dammit. They think I killed Parr, but I swear I didn’t.”

  “Benton’s dead? I just saw him last night. Why do they think you killed him? How did they find you?”

  “Caro, slow down. I went to his store before opening time. The lights were on, so I went inside, figuring he was in the back room. Only he was lying on the floor. There was all this blood coming from his abdomen. The kid who works for him came in and called the cops. I took off, but they nabbed me a few blocks away. Knocked me down. I’m bruised and all scratched up.”

  “You need a lawyer.”

  “I don’t have money for a lawyer.”

  “I’m calling Uncle Bosco.”

  He let out a long exhalation. “I don’t know, Caro. I haven’t spoken to the man in twenty years.”

  “I know a lawyer. He doesn’t handle criminal cases, but he’ll know who to call.”

  “All right, honey, call who you want. But please get down here as soon as you can.”

  Uncle Bosco was not happy to hear my father was back in town. “When did he get here, Carrie? Why did he come?”

  “He arrived a few days ago. I think he wanted to see me.” Both accurate statements, but far from the whole picture. “There’s more, Uncle Bosco. Benton Parr is dead. Murdered. And the police arrested Jim. He insists he didn’t do it.”

  My uncle let out a long sigh that sounded very much like the one my father had exhaled only minutes earlier. “My poor brother. He’d turn over in his grave if he knew what his son has become.”

  I cleared my throat. “Would you be willing to put up bail? I don’t have much savings, but I’ll take out a loan if I need to.”

  “Of course I’ll put up bail. Your father’s a Singleton, whether I like it or not. I can’t let him rot in jail until his trial. Meanwhile, I’ll speak to John. Find out exactly what they have on him.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Bosco. I’m going to call Ken Talbot. Have him recommend a good criminal lawyer for Jim.”

  “The man doesn’t deserve to have you as his daughter.”

  I called Ken’s office and was almost surprised when his secretary told me he was free to talk to me.

  “Great party, Carrie. I’m glad you got to meet Adam.”

  “Me too. He seems like a really nice guy. And he’s clearly crazy about you.”

  “Well, the feeling’s mutual. Now, what can I do for you?”

  I told Ken that my father had been arrested and was being held at the jail in town. “Uncle Bosco will be bailing him out.”

  “If they’re holding him as a suspect, I’m afraid that might not happen until he’s arraigned.”

  “I need the name of a criminal lawyer.”

  “Phil Demuth. His office is right down the hall. We often work together. I’ll stop by the jail after my next appointment.”

  “Thanks, Ken. I appreciate this.”

  “I know what an ordeal this must be for you, Carrie.”

  “He says he didn’t kill Benton.”

  “They all say that, Carrie.”

  Is my father a murderer? I pondered that question as I dressed quickly and put out food for Smoky Joe. I called Sally to tell her I’d be late. “My father’s been arrested for Benton Parr’s murder. I need to see Lieutenant Mathers. I don’t know how long it will take.”

  “You poor kid,” she said. “Don’t worry. Trish will be in soon. She can hold the fort till you get here.”

  Smoky Joe followed me to the door, expecting to be picked up and carried to the car.

  “Sorry, Boy. No libra
ry for you today. I don’t know when I’m going to get there.”

  I resisted the urge to speed, because the last thing I needed was a speeding ticket or to get into an accident. Traffic was light, and I arrived at the police station ten minutes later. I parked behind the small brick building and went inside.

  Officer Gracie Venditto, who I’d met the last time I’d come to the station, was at the desk.

  “Hi, Carrie. Your uncle and Mr. Talbot are inside talking to Lieutenant Mathers.”

  “I’d like to join them.”

  “Be right back.” Gracie stood. “Meanwhile, you can go straight down that corridor and knock on the door. An officer will escort you to your father’s cell. You can speak to him from outside.”

  I did as she said. Jim was stretched out on a metal slab covered by the thinnest of mattresses. He was snoring.

  I stifled a giggle. Here I was worried about my father, and he was fast asleep.

  “Jim, wake up! We need to talk.”

  Tremors ran the length of his body as he awakened. He threw off the woolen blanket and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Caro! Thank God you’ve come. I didn’t kill Parr. I swear I didn’t. He was dead when I got to his store. I shouldn’t have…”

  “Shouldn’t have what?”

  When he didn’t answer, I got angry. “Shouldn’t have gone there? Shouldn’t have touched him? Shouldn’t have hit him?”

  Jim rubbed his eyes. “He wasn’t hit that I could see. He was lying on his side with blood seeping from his abdomen. He must have been stabbed, but I didn’t see a knife anywhere. Not that I looked very hard.”

  “Did you touch him?”

  “Only to check his pulse. I could tell he was dead.”

  “Then Chris came in and found you beside the body?”

  Jim shifted his shoulders the way he did when he was guilty of something. And wasn’t he always guilty of something?

  “Not exactly. I’d been checking things out.”

  “I can’t believe it! A man was lying dead—murdered—and you stayed to look for those gems?”

  “Benton told me he’d put them in a place where no one would find them. He swore I’d get my share, but he didn’t say when.”

  “You spoke to Benton?”

  “Uh-huh. Last night. I decided it wasn’t fair to get you involved so I called him. Told him I’d stop by his house, but he insisted I meet him at the store this morning.”

  Gracie walked over to me. “Carrie, you can join your uncle and Mr. Talbot in the loo’s office now.”

  My father’s face lit up. “You got me a lawyer?”

  “I said I would. And Uncle Bosco will put up your bond if needed.”

  “Great. Just get me out of here.” He beamed his special smile at Gracie. “Good lady, do you think you could work your magic and conjure up a real cup of coffee for me from outside? Not the kind of dishwater they served me at breakfast.”

  The smile Gracie returned was radiant. “I’ll see what I can do, Jim.”

  Had she known him from before, or was my father really that charming?

  The three men were talking quietly when I entered John Mathers’s office. They stopped to greet me as I slipped into the empty metal chair facing John’s desk and chair.

  “I was telling your uncle and Mr. Talbot the circumstances under which my men caught your father running from the scene of the crime.”

  I nodded. “Yes, he told me. He also swears that he didn’t kill Benton Parr.”

  John pursed his lips. “We’re not saying that he did either, but he’s a person of interest. We’re going to want to question him again.”

  “Can he leave?”

  “Perhaps later today, as I was explaining to your uncle and Mr. Talbot. Your father’s a suspect in a jewel heist that took place last year. We notified an agency that has been investigating the theft. One of their investigators wants to talk to him before he’s released.”

  “John says there’s no need for bail,” Uncle Bosco said, “but Jim has to remain in Clover Ridge at present. Preferably with a reliable adult.” He sighed. “I suppose we can put him up, if it’s only for a short while, though your Aunt Harriet won’t be happy about it.”

  “He can stay with me.” Did I actually utter those words? I covered my mouth, but it was too late.

  “Are you sure, Carrie?” Uncle Bosco asked. “You haven’t seen your father in years. Having him underfoot might be emotionally draining.”

  “Given my work schedule, we won’t have much together time. Which reminds me, I’ll be at the library till nine tonight.”

  “Jim can visit with Harriet and me till then.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Bosco.” I turned to John, “How was Benton murdered?”

  “He was stabbed in the abdomen with a knife.”

  I thought for a minute. “My father’s been sent to prison for burglary and theft, but he’s never committed an act of violence. Do you really think he killed Benton Parr?”

  “Chris Crowley, Benton’s assistant, found him at the scene.”

  “Was he covered in blood?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

  “I need to tell you something,” I said. “Last night as I was leaving the library, I overheard a man threatening Benton. In fact, he punched him in the face.”

  John Mathers’s face took on an expression of sympathy. “Carrie, I realize you’re upset about your father, but making up a story about a man hitting Benton doesn’t help the situation one bit.”

  “I’m not making it up! I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Nobody else reported this confrontation.”

  “No one else witnessed it. All the patrons had gone home.”

  Suddenly John was all business. “Can you describe this person?”

  “I didn’t see him clearly, except he was over six feet and had broad shoulders. He was warning Benton to keep away from his wife.”

  “We’ll look into it. Meanwhile, there’s no point in any of you staying here at the station. Bosco, I’ll call when we’re ready to release Jim.”

  Outside John’s office, I thanked Ken and my uncle for showing up.

  “I’ll notify Phil about the case,” Ken said and took off.

  Uncle Bosco and I walked more slowly to the rear door that led to the parking lot. He shook his head. “Your father brings nothing but trouble and dishonor to our family. I hate that he’s put you in the position of having to look after him.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt. I’d seen little of my father these past ten years. Did I know the man at all? I wanted to believe that he hadn’t murdered Benton Parr, but how could I know for sure?

  Outside, I hugged Uncle Bosco. “Give my love to Aunt Harriet. I’ll see you both soon.”

  I watched him head to his car, knowing how difficult this situation was for him. And suddenly Dylan was exiting his car and walking toward me.

  “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you till the weekend.”

  Instead of the look of happiness I expected, his face wore a guilty expression. “Carrie, hi! I’ve come to interview someone. About a case.”

  A case? Dylan worked as an investigative investigator for an insurance company that recovered stolen art and jewelry. Of course! He’d been looking for Jim all this time!

  My body stiffened with shock and betrayal. “You’re here to question my father about a heist he was supposedly involved in.”

  I ran to my car, scrubbing away the tears that streamed from my eyes. Jim was a thief. He’d been an absentee father. But he was my father, and no one had the right to use me to get to him.

  Chapter Five

  Dylan chased after me. “Carrie, we need to talk.”

  I shrugged away his arm and spun around to face him.

  “So that’s why you let me have the cottage at such a low rent, why you pretended to like me! I was the perfect link to my father!”

  “Carrie, listen to me. The case had just ab
out come to a dead end. All leads to your father had dried up. I swear I wasn’t thinking about him when you answered the ad.”

  “Sure you weren’t!” I glared at him. “And you never asked me if I kept in touch with my father or asked where he was living.”

  “Well, yes. I admit I did. But I rented the cottage to you because you were someone I trusted, someone I knew when we were kids—”

  “Someone you hoped would help you solve a case. Help you find some missing gems.”

  “Aha! So you knew it was gems that had been stolen.”

  I glared at him. “Gems, watches, bonds. Whatever was taken has nothing to do with me or with my father.” I climbed into my car and slammed the door.

  “I’m here to interview him because it’s my job.”

  I opened the window. “You know what you can do with your job! I have nothing more to say to you—ever!”

  I started the car and backed up faster than I should have, missing a parked car by inches. I blinked back tears. What a jerk I’d been to think for even one minute that my life was perfect. It was a mess as always. My father showed up out of the blue and turned everything into hash. Jim Singleton was Suspect Number One in a homicide case and a gem heist. My supposed boyfriend didn’t care about me. To him, I was just a link to my father. A link to solving one of his cases.

  As I drove back to the cottage, I tried to remember how often Dylan had asked me about my father. Only once or twice, if I remembered correctly. About the same number of times he’d asked me about my mother and her new husband, who were living in Hollywood.

  The cottage! I was going to have to move. I’d fallen in love with the cottage the moment I’d set eyes on it—the layout of the rooms, the furnishings, the views of the river. It was the nicest place I’d ever lived in, and I considered it my home. I grimaced as I realized why Dylan had rented it to me for such a ridiculously low price. Perhaps I could arrange to rent it at a normal cost. It would be expensive, but I could afford it. I was making a good salary.

  No, it would be better if I lived somewhere else, somewhere far from Dylan Avery. Maybe it was time to move on and leave Clover Ridge. I’d given the well-balanced, ordinary life a try, and look where it had gotten me!