Murder Casts a Shadow Read online

  Murder Casts a Shadow

  A Kelly Armello Cozy Mystery Book 2

  Donna Doyle

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  © 2020 PureRead Ltd

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  Contents

  1. A Newcomer to the Library

  2. The Bus Trip to Punxsutawney

  3. The Inner Circle

  4. Home to Suspicion

  5. Murder Central

  6. Carmela Talks

  7. Sleuthing Again

  8. In Groundhog Territory

  9. Shrove Tuesday Suspects

  10. Changes at the Library

  11. Accomplices?

  12. Secrets

  13. Encounter with a Stranger

  14. News from the Krymanski Front

  15. Travis Shaw, Suspect

  16. Kelly on the Outside

  17. The Parking Lot Surveillance

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  1

  A Newcomer to the Library

  “Lyola doesn’t know anything about how to organize a bus trip,” Carmela complained.

  Kelly had been listening to the expanding account of Lyola Knesbit’s deficiencies ever since the last patron had left the library half an hour ago. It was a cold day and a forbidding one to be outside, with snow and the temperatures falling. But for Carmela, the lack of people was an opportunity for her to air her grievances over the LifeLight Church’s failure to ensure that the annual Groundhog Day bus trip went smoothly.

  “I go over the figures every night and they don’t add up,” Carmela said meaningfully. “Lyola says that not everyone has turned in their ticket money to her, but when I say that they shouldn’t be given their reservation until they pay, she says that they’re going to pay and that’s how LifeLight does it. I said, well, that’s not the way we do it at Son Light. Lyola is getting her leather purse re-tanned.”

  Kelly, who was perusing the various media best-seller lists in order to decide which books to purchase, looked up, puzzled. “She’s doing what?”

  “She’s getting her leather purse re-tanned.” At Kelly’s blank look, Carmela went on, “You know, when it gets spots on it, or stains, or it’s worn. Leather isn’t like other materials.”

  “I know that, I just never thought about getting it re-tanned. But I don’t have a leather purse, so I guess I wouldn’t know.”

  “On our salaries, we can’t afford leather purses. Lyola paid $245 for her purse so of course she wants to take care of it.”

  “Even if I made a fortune in wages, I don’t think I’d be spending that much on a purse,” Kelly said, returning her attention to the book list.

  “Vera Bradley purses aren’t cheap,” Carmela said critically.

  “No, they aren’t. That’s why mine was a Christmas present from my sister,” Kelly smiled.

  “Must be nice to have rich relatives,” Carmela sniffed.

  “Lauren isn’t rich,” Kelly said calmly. “She’s an accountant so she makes a good salary, but I wouldn’t want her work schedule during tax season. She’s very generous to all of us with her gifts and doesn’t expect me to reciprocate.”

  Carmela couldn’t think of an adequate riposte to this comment, which was just as well, as the front door had opened to admit a patron, along with the cold air that followed her inside.

  Kelly looked up. The patron was a thin woman, probably younger than her appearance, wearing a winter coat that seemed too big for her. She had on a hat and scarf, making it almost impossible to tell what she looked like underneath the layers of winter covering. She looked like a newcomer to town, but the library seemed to be somewhat familiar to her. Kelly could always tell when a new person arrived; they looked around for the section that would have the books in which they were interested, or they headed straight for the computer station, or they paused to glance at the magazine titles on the racks. This person

  went straight to the circulation desk.

  “Hi,” she said hesitantly.

  “Hello.” Carmela’s greetings were rarely warm. Every patron was a potential interruption in the task she was trying to finish. That serving patrons was the most important part of her job description was something that Kelly had not yet managed to impress upon the library clerk.

  “Hello,” Kelly echoed, her smile genuine and her tone inviting. “Welcome to the library. How can we help you?”

  “I’d like a library card.”

  Carmela, recognizing that she was going to have to postpone her work on the display of winter-themed cookbooks, rose from her chair.

  “I’ll need identification,” she said.

  The newcomer removed her gloves and reached into her purse for her driver’s license.

  “You’re from across the river,” Carmela said accusingly. “Your address is Warren.”

  Kelly sighed inwardly. It was always disheartening to explain to hopeful library card applicants that, if their community did not pay its state-mandated funding to maintain the public library, its residents could not obtain a free library card and would have to purchase one.

  “Yes . . . is that a problem?”

  Carmela, who enjoyed denying people a library card, began to launch into an explanation but Kelly interrupted smoothly. “Unfortunately,” she said, “we can’t issue a free card to residents living in areas that don’t provide financial support for the library. However,” she smiled encouragingly, “we do allow paperbacks to circulate without a card. They’re on the carousel over there, in the fiction section.”

  “I didn’t want the books for me,” the woman said nervously. “I wanted to get some for my kids. I’m visiting them next weekend and I wanted to bring some books.”

  “That’s great,” Kelly said, meaning it. “Let me show you where the children’s paperbacks are. We have lots of good ones that you can take,” she said as she led the other woman up the stairs to the children’s department. “Chloe,” she said to the children’s librarian, “can you help—” she turned to the patron.

  “Mia,” the young woman said nervously.

  “Can you help Mia pick out some paperbacks for her kids? How old are they?”

  “Three and six.”

  Chloe, who was cutting out construction paper snowflakes for a story hour program she was planning, rose from the children’s table with a smile. “Sure,” she said, “come on over here and we’ll see what we can find.”

  As she left the children’s department, Kelly reflected on how fortunate they were to have Chloe, a part-time staff member and a college student pursing a degree in early education. She was welcoming and energetic and able to build an instant rapport with children and their parents alike.

  When she returned downstairs, Carmela was frowning over the computer.

  “That woman,” she said, “she looks familiar.”

  Everyone Carmela didn’t know looked familiar to her, usually because they resembled, according to her, a photograph of someone she’d seen on the evening news or on one of the reality TV programs that she relished.

  “I don’t know how you can tell. This winter, everyone I see looks like a stand-in for Yeti,” Kelly answered. “I wonder . . . I don’t dare not order the next James Patterson, even though I’m convinced he must have a book out every month, but this new author is getting really good reviews . . .”

  “Mrs. Stark likes James Patterson,” Carmela responded immediately.

&nb
sp; Kelly was well aware of that. Lois Stark examined the monthly book order list to make sure that her favorite authors were represented, and she was always dubious about new authors.

  Thoughts of Mrs. Stark turned Kelly’s mind to the police chief whose son had been arrested for the murder of his girlfriend on Halloween night, a crime that had been blamed on Lucas Krymanski until Troy and Kelly had investigated it and learned the truth. Police Chief Stark had gone on a leave of absence after the murder, but Kelly had heard rumors that he wanted his job back. Despite suspicious indications that he was aware of his son’s drug dealing and was perhaps involved in it himself, Chief Stark had not been charged with a crime or even investigated.

  Troy was cynical about the way matters had turned out. But as his role in the investigation was not fully known, his job was safe. How safe it would be if Police Chief Stark returned to the force remained to be seen. Leo Page, the officer with the most seniority on the Settler Springs Police Force, was acting chief, but Kelly knew from Troy’s conversations that Leo lacked the firmness needed for the position. Leo was easy-going and genial, but not someone whose authority was respected, either in the community or even, Troy had said, among his fellow police officers. In Leo’s defense, he and his wife were raising their grandchildren because their daughter was in rehab again and their son-in-law was in prison for drug dealing. It was a bad marriage and Leo feared that his son-in-law would, upon release from prison, try to get custody of his children.

  And that train of thought reminded Kelly of something else that Troy had once said. He wasn’t sure, he had told her when he had brought up the subject of Leo, that police officers ought to be fathers at all. Their attention was divided, Troy had said. They were vulnerable in case someone tried to harm their kids as a way of retaliating against something a police officer had done.

  That memory made Kelly’s feelings for Troy even more jumbled. If he didn’t want children and he didn’t have strong religious beliefs, was he even someone who belonged in her life? Kelly knew without a doubt that she wanted to marry and have a family. Her active role in her church would be something that would include her family, when she had one of her own. Troy was the first man she’d met since breaking up with her former boyfriend who brought those hopes back into focus for her. But what was the point of having those thoughts when the man who inspired them gave no indication that he intended to play a role in the future she envisioned?

  2

  The Bus Trip to Punxsutawney

  Kelly was glad that the day of the bus trip arrived without snow. It was cold enough already without adding anything else to the winter scene, and by the time she arrived at the LifeLight Church parking lot, the sun was fading and the temperatures were falling.

  It should have been too cold for anyone to engage in bickering, but when Kelly approached the front of the church to receive her badge for the trip, she saw that Carmela was arguing with another woman. Kelly overheard enough of the discussion to realize that this person had to be Lyola Knesbitt.

  “If they haven’t paid for their tickets,” Carmela was saying, “they can’t be seated.”

  “Everyone has paid,” Lyola responded angrily. “I gave you the envelope with the reservation list and the money.”

  “I don’t know where you learned to add, but the amount of money in this envelope doesn’t add to the total that this trip is going to cost.”

  Kelly stepped in. “Ladies,” she said in the tone of voice she used when she was trying to mediate between the people working the kitchen in her own church, “this isn’t the time. There are people waiting to get on the bus. It’s cold out. If they hear you two arguing, this will reflect badly on your churches and you don’t want people to start spreading rumors about Son Light and LifeLight, do you?”

  Carmela glared at Kelly for voicing such a thought. Mrs. Knesbit frowned. “Certainly not,” she declared. “LifeLight has the most welcoming congregation in town, everyone knows that. Everyone who comes to visit our church remarks on how friendly we are.”

  “Yes,” Kelly said quickly, “And I know that Son Light has the same reputation with its visitors. I’m sure that some of the money we’ve paid is to give a little profit for the trip, right? Let’s count on using that profit to make up the difference until we can figure out how to account for the money that doesn’t seem to be in the envelope.”

  The ladies grudgingly admitted that this appeared to be a workable solution and they returned to their duties, Carmela checking off the names of the people as they approached and Mrs. Knesbit handing them their badge.

  “Don’t lose your badge,” Carmela warned as Kelly prepared to board the bus. “We aren’t giving out replacements, and if you don’t have your badge, you won’t be able to join the Inner Circle.”

  Kelly promptly put her badge into her winter jacket pocket and zipped it closed. “I won’t lose it,” she promised. “What time are we getting to the hotel?”

  “The bus is going to leave promptly at four o’clock,” Mrs. Knesbit said. “All the hotels in Punxsutawney are booked so we have reservations at a hotel on I-80.”

  “We’ve never had to stay so far out of town before,” Carmela said.

  “The hotel clerk told me that there are more people than usual coming to Groundhog Day,” Lyola Knesbit said, responding immediately to the implied insult that she must have been dilatory in making the arrangements that required them to stay in a hotel farther out of town. “She told me that one young man is planning to propose to his girlfriend while the fireworks are going off. He’s coming all the way from Texas to propose.”

  “We’ve never had to stay so far from the town,” Carmela repeated.

  “A marriage proposal! That’ll be fun to see,” Kelly intervened, peacemaking her priority at this stage.

  Mrs. Knesbit scoffed, “Why, you won’t be able to see him propose! There could be as many as twenty thousand people there!”

  Kelly smiled. “It should be a memorable proposal, at any rate.”

  She was surprised to learn that they had been given assigned seats on the bus. Perhaps Mrs. Knesbit feared that it would be too risky if everyone chose their own seats, Kelly smiled ruefully to herself. Carmela and Mrs. Knesbit would not have been out of place in a Jane Austen novel, she thought. Or a murder mystery.

  She brought out a paperback to read while waiting for everyone to board and was surprised when, just moments after she had sat down, Mrs. Knesbit sat down beside her, clutching her purse tightly as if she feared that it might be separated from her. Remembering what Carmela had told her about the cost of the purse, Kelly wasn’t surprised that Mrs. Knesbit was protective of it. Much better to go with a backpack, Kelly thought, and travel light. And cheap.

  “Aren’t you handing out the badges?” Kelly asked.

  “I delegated the task to someone else. I simply could not spend another minute with Carmela Dixon. I don’t know how you manage to work with her.”

  “Oh . . . I’m sure everything will be fine,” Kelly said, reluctantly putting Northanger Abbey away in her backpack.

  “Between you and me,” Mrs. Knesbit confided, lowering her voice, “I share Carmela’s concerns about the money. But I know who took it!”

  “Oh?” Kelly asked weakly, not at all sure why she was being gifted with this revelation. She wasn’t from either of the two hosting churches!

  Perhaps, she reflected, that was why. Perhaps, when she had jokingly told Troy that she was to be Switzerland for this trip, she had been more serious than she realized.

  Mrs. Knesbit leaned in closer to Kelly so that there was no chance of being overheard. “It’s a new member to LifeLight,” she said. “I can’t prove it, but I know it’s her. It has to be. She’s a new member.”

  For a moment, Kelly played with the idea of asking Mrs. Knesbit if all new members were thieves, but decided that a sense of humor was probably not one of the woman’s most conspicuous traits.

  “Oh.”

  “It’s Mia Shaw.
You must know her,” Mrs. Knesbit said. “She’s been gone for a while, but she’s back in town. She left her children. Now she’s joined my church and expects people to behave as if everything is just hunky-dory. She even came on this trip.”

  “Is there any proof that she took the missing money?” Kelly asked. Gossip was one thing. Unkind speculation another. But accusing someone of theft with no evidence was another matter entirely.

  “Oh, people like that know how to hide their tracks,” Mrs. Knesbit said. “I assured Carmela that I’ll put in the missing money and there’s no need for her to make accusations that reflect badly on the church. I’ll deal with this when we come back after the trip. I’ll certainly tell Pastor that he’s going to have to do something. It’s all very well to forgive the fallen sinner, but we can’t allow thieves in our congregation.”

  “Does this person, this Mrs. Shaw, have access to church funds? Did she have a way of getting to the place where the money was kept?”

  “Oh, these people have their ways, don’t they? Churches are very faulty at security, you know, and our church secretary is entirely too trusting. She encourages Mia to come in and volunteer, can you imagine! Mia comes in on Fridays and folds the bulletins and stuffs them with inserts. Today is Friday!”

  “Yes, it’s Friday.”

  “So, she would have been in the church office this morning. She would have been able to get into the desk drawer and take the money.”

  “Maybe, next year, a different payment system might be an option,” Kelly suggested. “One that wouldn’t place suspicion without proof on anyone.”