Peter stared openly, his pulse revving, and his conscience tickling. No time like the present to apologize for his oafish behavior on Thursday afternoon.
Hello? Peter? Mary waved a hand in front of him and laughed as he snapped back to attention. I asked what kind of research you were doing. Geez, bro, where did you go just then?
Peter shifted awkwardly, embarrassed at being caught staring. Sorry. I saw someone I need to talk to.
Mary glanced the direction hed been looking. Would that someone be an attractive single female who teaches at the elementary school?
Peter ignored the question and his sisters knowing grin. Say, where do they keep the microfiche around here? I need to look through old issues of the Honey Creek Gazette.
Mary shifted through a stack of childrens books, setting some aside and discarding others. She thumbed through the pages of a colorful picture book, then added it to her growing stack.
He tipped his head and smirked. Just how many books are you planning on reading to the story-time kids?
Pausing, she looked at the tall pile. Looks like about fifteen to me. But I could always add more later. She gave him a smug grin. How far back do you want to go with the Gazette? Anything older than two years is filed in a room at the back. Lily will have to get it for you.
When she nodded toward the other end of the check-out desk, Peter shifted his attention to the raven-haired woman whod earned a bad reputation before leaving town years ago. Now Lily Masterson was back in town, repairing her reputation after being hired as the head librarian. She was also Wes Coltons fiancée.
Tensing, Peter took Mary by the elbow and led her several steps away from the front desk. I want everything from 1995.
Mary stilled and cast him a suspicious look. Clearly she recognized the time frame as when their father disappeared. What are you doing, Peter?
He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Looking for the answers that the sheriff either refuses to find himself or is covering up to protect his family.
Marys shoulders drooped, and she lowered her voice. You make it sound like Dads disappearance was part of a big conspiracy with the Coltons.
He twitched a shoulder. Maybe it was.
She looked skeptical. Look, Peter, I dont know what youre up to, but be careful. When Jake and I dug into Dads death this summer, we clearly rattled some skeletons. This research youre here for could lead to trouble for you if word gets out. I dont want to see you or Patrick in any danger.
Craig had said as much, too, when hed visited him in the hospital. Peters gut rolled at the suggestion his investigation could threaten Patricks safety.
And considering that Damien was proven innocent of killing dad, since dad wasnt really dead all these years, Mary added, Im not sure what sort of conspiracy you think the Coltons are involved in. But Jake trusts Wes, and thats good enough for me. What makes you think Wes isnt doing his job?
Peter glanced around the bustling library, his gaze stopping on Lily. Thats a conversation for another day and another, more private place. He shoved his hands deep in his jeans pockets. So do you still have access to the Gazette microfiche? I really dont want the sheriffs new girlfriend knowing Im digging into his familys history.
She frowned and flipped her red hair over her shoulder. I cant access the back room anymore, but Ill ask Lily to get the microfiche you need. Meet me over by the film reader. She jerked her head in the general direction of the microfiche machine on a far wall, then headed across the room to speak to Lily.
Peter noted the machine she indicated but headed the opposite direction. He had to eat a bit of humble pie.
Wiping his suddenly perspiring palms on the seat of his jeans, Peter headed toward the table where Lisa Navarre sat. As he approached, she paused from her work long enough to stretch the kinks from her back and roll her shoulders. When her gaze landed on him, he saw recognition tinged with surprise register on her face, along with another emotion he couldnt identify. She seemed uneasy or flustered somehow as he stepped up to her table and flashed her an awkward grin. He couldnt really blame her for being disconcerted by his presence. Hed been rather gruff and unpleasant last time they met.
Ms. Navarre snatched off her reading glasses and smoothed a hand over
her untidy hair. Mr. Walshhello.
He rocked back on his heels and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. Hi, Ms. Navarre. Im sorry to interrupt. Do you have a minute?
She closed the massive book in front of her and waved a dismissive hand over her notepad. Sure. I was just doing a little studying for my class.
Peter read the title of the book. Critical Evaluation in Higher Education. Huh, I didnt know fourth grade was considered higher education nowadays.
She tucked one of the stray wisps of hair behind her ear and sent him a quick grin. Its not for Patricks class. Im working on my PhD in Higher Education. Im thinking of moving to teaching college-level classes instead of elementary.