Past Due for Murder Page 2

  He never tried to reach out after that, so why would he now? I reminded myself as I walked toward the man leaning against the fence. Although perhaps, after his recent loss, he’s reconsidered some of his past actions.

  But how would he know to find me here? I frowned as I picked up my pace. He couldn’t have known I’d be at this event unless he stalked the library’s website.

  Which was possible, but definitely put a different spin on his actions. It betrayed a determination to track me down that I’d never have imagined. Perhaps he was serious about making amends, even after all this time.

  “Where are you going?” Sunny called out. “Seriously, Amy, I thought you were going to help supervise …”

  I ignored her and picked up my pace. I hadn’t spoken to Charles in over two years and had been shocked when I’d heard that Charles and Marlis had purchased land in the mountains outside Taylorsford. According to local gossip, they’d renovated the pseudo-Swiss chalet on the property into a retreat where they spent long, private, weekends away from their jobs at Clarion University. Since I’d had no desire to unexpectedly run into either of them, this had been unwelcome news. But I’d never seen them together since that fateful night when I’d discovered their affair, and now I never would. This past February—only four months after they’d finished renovating their vacation home—Marlis had been struck by a car while jogging on a side road near the university. She’d tragically died at the scene.

  Richard, who taught dance at Clarion, hadn’t provided much information on this situation, despite my efforts to persuade him to share any details with me. I wasn’t surprised, as I knew Richard went out of his way to avoid Charles due to a bad experience he’d had when they’d worked on a single collaborative project two summers ago. All Richard had heard through the campus grapevine was that Charles had been granted a leave of absence to deal with his grief and had taken off to travel throughout Europe. But it seemed that he’d returned.

  My stride shortened as the space between us decreased. Despite my new life, and love, my stomach clenched over the thought of speaking to Charles again. He’d been my first mad love—the kind that made one do foolish things. Oh, I’d had a few casual boyfriends before Charles, but none of them had left much of a mark. He had slammed into my heart, and smashed it, like a sledgehammer.

  Now he was the one suffering. Strangely, that thought didn’t bring me satisfaction. All I felt was pity.

  I reached Charles and managed to squeak out a hello before someone rushed up behind me.

  “You!” Mona swept past me and stopped short in front of Charles, shining her flashlight in his face. “What do you think you’re doing, showing up here? Planning to steal more of my work?”

  “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Mona.” Charles shadowed his eyes with his hand. “I’m simply enjoying a little break from sitting alone in an empty house. Now—please remove that light from my face.”

  I instinctively took two steps back as Mona flew at Charles like an avenging angel, striking his shoulder with her flashlight. “You lying piece of garbage! Get out of here before I kill you!”

  Chapter Two

  I retreated while Charles threw up his arms in a defensive gesture, forcing Mona to step away.

  “What’s he doing here?” Trish said under her breath as she appeared beside me.

  I glanced down at her. “You know Charles Bartos?”

  She stared at her leather sneakers as she shuffled her feet. “Of course. He’s one of the most famous professors at Clarion. And there’s been a lot of talk about him lately, what with him tragically losing his girlfriend.” Trish looked up and stared toward the tableau at the fence. “Besides, he and Mona have history.”

  Fortunately, it appeared that Trish was not aware of my own relationship with Charles. “What do you mean?”

  “You never heard that story? Mona usually tells it to everyone she meets.”

  Although they’d lowered their voices to the point where I couldn’t make out their words. I could tell by Mona’s furious gesticulations that she was still arguing with Charles. “No, she hasn’t mentioned anything about it to me.”

  There was no way I’d admit to Trish that I knew exactly why Mona wouldn’t have shared this story with me. Having worked at Clarion for many years, the folklorist undoubtedly knew of my previous connection to Charles.

  Trish was apparently too focused on her mentor to detect the tension in my voice. “Mona says he stole some of her work and used it as the basis for a composition that made him a pile of money. He never credited her, even though he clearly used the folk songs she’d discovered. Mona claims the lyrics were copied practically verbatim from her research.”

  “Not the Moon and Thistle Cycle?” I snapped my mouth shut before I said anything more. Although Charles had completed this song cycle before we met, we were dating when it first received accolades, so I knew how pivotal it had been to his career. He’d already achieved renown as a concert pianist, but the piece solidified his reputation as a composer, especially after a prominent soprano recorded it and the album won a Grammy.

  Trish side-eyed me. “That’s the one.”

  “I used to work at Clarion, so of course I heard about it. You really couldn’t escape all the hoopla about that on campus.” I turned away from her suspicious gaze. “It looks like Maestro Bartos has had enough. Which I can understand, especially with what he’s been through recently.”

  Charles walked into the shadows created by the cluster of cars as Mona strode over to me and Trish. “That man thinks he’s God’s gift, when he’s really a spawn of the devil.” She glanced at my face and tightened her lips.

  “Why did he show up here tonight? Did he say?” Trish asked.

  The tremor in her voice made me cast the graduate student an inquisitive glance. She was definitely upset about something. Perhaps it was simply the fear that her mentor would get into trouble for assaulting another professor.

  “Not really, or at least he offered no reasonable excuse. He claims he’s simply trying to find ways to deal with his grief, but I find that hard to believe. How can your heart be broken if you don’t have one?” Mona turned to glare at me. “Did you know he’d be here?”

  “Of course not. We haven’t even spoken in two years. I had no idea he was even in the area, much less that he’d crash your presentation.”

  Trish’s boots scattered some dirt clods. I could feel her eyes on me but refused to meet her gaze.

  “But you do know him well, right?” she asked.

  “Know him?” Mona snorted. “They lived together a few years back.”

  “Well, not full-time,” I said, as I caught a glimpse of Trish’s dark expression. “I came back to Taylorsford on the weekends.”

  “Still, you were his significant other.”

  “Not so significant, as it turns out. Since he cheated on me with the woman he’s now mourning.” I allowed my tone to sharpen on my last words. It was true that Charles had betrayed me, but now, while he was struggling with grief, I found Mona’s harsh attitude distasteful.

  “That was you?” Trish’s voice rose like a peacock screech. “The dean of music thing? I heard that story when I first transferred to Clarion, but I didn’t connect it with you.”

  “I’m not surprised. I left my university job and moved here to take over the management of the public library immediately after that debacle.”

  Mona’s frigid expression thawed. “It’s true—he treated you abysmally. But that’s Charles Bartos for you. He takes whatever he wants and uses it with no thought for anyone else.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “That’s in the past. As I said, we haven’t spoken for over two years. I’m just as shocked as you that he showed up here tonight. I don’t know, maybe after everything that’s happened, he wanted to apologize …”

  Mona snorted. “Apologize? Hell will freeze over before that happens.” She looked me up and down. “You know you’re better off without that snake,
I hope? Especially since you’ve found a much nicer man.”

  “True,” I said, because it was. Even if that nicer man had been behaving strangely lately.

  Mona turned to her assistant. “After that encounter, I’m done. Let’s go, Trish.” Mona bobbed her head at me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that. Thank you again for setting this up. I did enjoy telling the old tales to the Scouts.”

  “I’ll share your thanks with Sunny,” I called out as Mona and Trish turned away and headed for Mona’s car.

  After they drove off, Charles stepped out of the shadows and walked over to me. Tall and slender, he wore his blond locks a little too long for current tastes. But I knew he would never cut his hair. He was quite aware how seductively it veiled his face when he leaned over the piano keys.

  And how it flowed back like a glorious mane when he lifted his head in exultation during some dramatic passage, I thought, recalling the time I’d caught him practicing just such a gesture in a mirror.

  “Hello, Amy,” he said in a cultured voice that bore the slight trace of an English accent. Although he’d been born and raised in the Midwest, he’d picked up that affectation when he’d spent several years studying at a prominent London conservatory.

  It does play well with his fans. I had to admit that it was also one of the things that had first seduced me, once upon a time.

  “Hello again, Charles.” I brushed a lock of my straight brown hair out of my eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Europe.”

  “I was, but I had to cut my travels short. I have a few concerts that I couldn’t reschedule. I had to return to honor those commitments.” Charles lifted one of his fine-boned hands. “So I decided to spend a few days here between trips. A small respite before flying off to Chicago.”

  “Solo piano concerts?” I asked, examining him with concern. Always lean, Charles was thinner than I’d ever seen him. In the dim light, the shadows under his sharp cheekbones dramatically hollowed out his face.

  “Yes, as the Alma Viva Trio is no more.” Charles took a shuddery breath. “At least for now.”

  I laid my fingers on his tensed arm. “I was very sorry to hear about Marlis. Truly.”

  “Thank you.” Covering my fingers with his other hand, he stared into my eyes. “I can see that you’re sincere. Of course, that doesn’t surprise me. You always were much nicer than I deserved.”

  It was a vague sort of apology, but I latched on to it nevertheless. “Not really. And anyway, I know Marlis was an integral part of your musical career as well as your life. It must be terribly difficult for you. I don’t know how I’d cope if I lost my boyfriend.”

  “Ah yes,” Charles said, lifting his hand off mine. “You’re dating that dancer, Richard Muir, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, and I can’t imagine …” I shook my head. “I thought I’d lost him once, last fall, and that was truly dreadful. So I believe I can understand a little of what you’re going through.”

  “Perhaps.” His lips twitched, but the resulting smile resembled a grimace. “Anyway, I’m heading out of town this evening on a red-eye flight and decided that I wanted to see you before I left.”

  “Really? Why?”

  Charles shrugged. “I’ve spent a lot of time in reflection lately. One of the things I’ve realized is that I need to make some sort of amends after the unfortunate way things ended between us.” He massaged his temple with his fingers. “Having seen how quickly someone can be swept out of my life, I felt an urge to speak to you again.”

  “You sound like you’re leaving Taylorsford for good,” I said, not sure if I was happy with this idea or not.

  “No. Or maybe. I’m not entirely sure at this point. But I’ll be returning to the mountain house after these concerts, at least for a little while. I need to spend some time there before I decide whether to sell the place or not.” He reached out and clasped my right hand. “I should be back by Tuesday or Wednesday. Perhaps we can get together sometime after that, just to talk? I would like that very much.”

  He was gazing at me with a familiar, soulful look in his blue eyes. I knew he’d just lost his lover and was hurting desperately and was lonely, but …

  Surely he doesn’t think we could ever be anything to each other again?

  I cleared my throat and slid my hand from his grasp. “Maybe, although I’m awfully busy these days. How about contacting me when you get back and we’ll see?”

  “All right. And thank you again for your condolences, Amy. They mean a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome. But I would offer the same to anyone in your situation.”

  “I know,” he said, flashing his most dazzling smile. “Which is why I want us to be friends again.”

  “We’ll see,” I repeated, my thoughts spinning like pinwheels. “Anyway, I need to go. This is a work event and I’d better hightail it over there to help with the cleanup, since I’m sure I’ve missed assisting with the s’mores.”

  “I understand. But I promise to contact you again very soon.” Charles inclined his head slightly and said goodbye before striding off toward the parked cars.

  I stared after him, thinking how curious it was to hear him say he wanted to be friends again, when, despite our intimate relationship, we’d never been friends in the first place.

  * * *

  By the time I arrived back at the turn-of-the century Queen Anne revival home I shared with my aunt, I’d dissected my conversation with Charles down to the bone and still had no idea why he was so interested in seeing me again. Mulling over this odd turn of events, I simply said good-night to Aunt Lydia, who was watching some mystery series on BBC America, before I headed upstairs to my bedroom.

  I resisted checking my cell again until after I’d brushed my teeth and changed into my “Wake Up Smarter, Sleep With a Librarian” nightshirt. Flopping across my bed, I held my breath as I tapped the phone screen.

  Finally, a message. “Call me” was all it said, but at least it was something.

  I clicked on the shortcut that dialed Richard’s phone.

  “So where the heck have you been?” I asked as soon as he picked up.

  “And hello to you too, Amy.”

  Was it just my imagination, or did Richard’s typical teasing tone sound a little forced? “I thought perhaps you’d decided to take a road trip to Siberia.”

  “Sorry. My mom’s had me running all over the county …” As Richard’s voice trailed off, I heard something odd in the background. It almost sounded like a public announcement—the type of thing you’d hear in an airport or train station.

  “And you couldn’t text me until now? All today without a word …” I closed my lips over my next words, disliking the hectoring tone that had crept into my voice.

  I didn’t want to become one of those girlfriends—the kind that panicked if they weren’t in touch with their significant other every other minute. But I had been worried, especially after seeing Charles and remembering how he’d lost Marlis in an instant.

  “I really am sorry. Time just got away from me and then my parents insisted on changing the venue for the party, so we had to transport all the decorations and supplies to a new location. Honestly, today’s just been crazy, what with running from one store to the next.”

  Maybe that’s what I’d heard—someone making an announcement in a big-box store. Yes, that had to be it. There was no reason for Richard to be in an airport or train station. No reason I could imagine, anyway.

  “It’s okay,” I said, after a deep breath. “I was just worried. I thought maybe you were lying lifeless beside the highway or something.”

  “No, I’m fine.” The moment of silence following this assertation stretched a little longer than usual, making me wonder if Richard had also needed to calm his breathing. “It was just one thing after the other, that’s all.”

  I considered mentioning seeing Charles at the bonfire and Lacey’s disappearance but thought better of it. Those were proba
bly conversations we should have face-to-face. “The party’s tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah, but I think I may stay on a few days. Diedre offered to cover my studio, so I don’t have to teach again until Wednesday, and there are still a few things here I need to look into … I mean, take care of, so I probably won’t be home until Tuesday evening.” Richard raised his voice at the end of the sentence. Although not quite fast enough to cover the sound of hydraulic brakes in the distance.

  “Wait, where the heck are you? It sounds like a bus station.”

  Richard cleared his throat before replying. “Just traffic outside. Anyway, with the party craziness, I may not be able to call again, but I promise I’ll stay in touch by text.”

  “Sure, okay.” I stared at my cell phone screen, wondering what in the world could prevent him from calling me between now and Tuesday evening—a full three days from now.

  “And there’s Mom again,” Richard said, although I’d heard no beep or buzz on the line to indicate an incoming call. “Must go, sweetheart. See you Tuesday.” There was a slight pause. “Love you.”

  “I love you too,” I said just before he hung up.

  But not before I heard another announcement.

  I stared at the darkened screen of my cell for a minute before gently placing the phone on my nightstand, right beside a pile of books I hadn’t yet found the time to read.

  Richard had lied to me. I knew that as surely as I knew he was not in any store. Not tonight. He was standing in either a bus or train station.

  What I didn’t know was why.

  Chapter Three

  Since the library was closed on Sunday, we were typically overwhelmed with returns on Monday. I blew a strand of my dark hair out of my eyes as I plucked individual books from the stacks on the circulation desk and arranged them in call number order on a processing cart.

  “Is this everything out of the book drop?”