Surely, Toothless and Sidekick wouldn’t be so stupid to try something now in the bright light, would they?
Continuing around the building, Sam saw Lee’s Mustang still in one piece. Sam cautiously slid in, hurting with every bend and turn as he got into the bucket seat and seatbelt.
Think. Think. Jenny and Molly in one car. Chuck in another, possibly with Lisa. Mike, Andy, Tripp, and the Scuz Brothers. Jenny’s Jeep was still in front of the Mustang. Not seeing Lisa’s Ford Taurus in front of the gallery, Sam assumed it was one of the vehicles underway. It could comfortably hold four, but if Lisa wasn’t worried about comfort, maybe five. That left four people.
If Mike and Chuck came in their white Carolina Beach Police SUV, he’d look for that. The SUVs were an upgrade from the old Crown Victorias the force used to use. The small police force somehow had managed to convince the powers that be that SUVs were necessary at a beach town. Something about having to drive out on the dunes, though that rarely happened. So, no more Andy Taylor squad cars or Crown Vics.
Sam smirked at the thought of riding around with Barney Fife as he reached for the ignition. His lips were the only thing that didn’t hurt. Sam’s vision was not clear, but his focus was.
Chapter thirty-five
Sam had only one place to go: the public library. Not a regular there, he wondered why people bothered during the summer when the beach beckoned. He instantly knew the answer when he stepped inside: air conditioning so cold Sam instantly felt chilled.
The petite gray-haired librarian had her black sweater snuggly clasped around her. Adorned with bright neon beach umbrellas, the sweater reached well below her waist, which was cinched with a bright turquoise fabric belt that matched her dress. On her nose sat bifocals as if they were a permanent fixture, just as she must have been at that front desk for decades.
Looking up from her computer, the librarian gasped when she saw Sam. She reached for the phone.
Sam painfully lunged at her hand before she could press a button.
“Please. It’s not what you think.” Sam was breathless. “I swear I won’t hurt you or anyone in here! I’m a cop.”
Sam felt for his wallet. Gone. Toothless was thorough. But not quite thorough enough. Sam held himself as straight as he could.
“I need to get online.”
The librarian, whose name badge read Libby, cocked her head sideways, then shrugged. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be at the hospital?”
“I promise I will go there next. Right now, I just need a computer.”
Sam looked around, but he recognized none of the faces. They wouldn’t think to look in here. But then again, they probably had other places to go. Sam just needed to know where to look.
Libby the Librarian got up from her seat and walked slowly with Sam to the back of the library. Off to the left was a Carolina Room filled with bookcases of books, maps, charts, and other reference material about the state. To the right was a small glassed-in room with a row of ten computers sitting on long tables. They were situated back-to-back, cables jumbled and tumbling, and all attached to the same spot on the floor with matching blue cables.
Thank goodness for DSL, Sam thought as he surveyed the other three computer users: a teenage boy with a really bad case of acne smeared on his face like grape jelly, a high school-aged mother with her sleeping baby close by in a stroller, and a man Sam tagged to be in his sixties, wearing what were probably his favorite clothes from his days in a hippie commune.
When Hippie looked up to see who had entered his presence, Sam felt the man’s eyes drinking him in from head to toe; then he coolly looked away as if Sam were just another patron, despite his ragged appearance.
Nobody except Libby the Librarian seemed to notice or care that Sam was battered.
Libby excused herself and soon returned with a wet rag for Sam’s face and a cup of tepid water.
Sam settled in a chair and familiarized himself with the login sheet taped to the frame of the monitor. In a few seconds, he was googling the United States Coast Guard. Two frames later, he was at the Vessel Documentation page.
The screen asked for “Vessel Name.” Sam typed in Firefly, one of the boat names from Lee’s matrix. A long list of boat owners coveting the name as