Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,63
the gloves off and stuffed them into her jeans pocket. “But thanks for indulging me.” She glanced at the desk on her way past. “Is there a reason the police took the antique feather pen for testing?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “We didn’t take any pen for testing.”
“Interesting. I swear it was on the desk in that old inkwell Thursday morning.”
“I can check the crime-scene inventory list and take a look at the pictures to be sure.” He reached for the door handle. “I guess it’s one more thing to add to the list of missing items.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, that’s why half the police department are here right now. Overnight, there were a number of other antiques stolen.”
“Even with the security guards Blake hired to secure the yard sale merchandise and patrol the grounds?”
“It’s baffling, to say the least.” He headed out the door.
Addie followed but hesitated when a rush of cold air wrapped its wisp-like fingers around her. This wasn’t the first time in this room that inexplicable cold surrounded her. The intensity of it reminded her of the air-conditioning vent in the interrogation room. But there were no AC ducts in this room, and since the house had sat empty for over seventy years, she doubted there were any anywhere in the entire mansion.
She swept one last glance at the room and gasped. A faint vaporous mist floated before the fireplace. It’s just the dim lighting. Old man Gallagher’s eyes drew in Addie’s gaze. They appeared to have grown darker, emptier than they looked just a few minutes ago. A quiver raced up her spine. She blinked. Twice. The vaporous image dissipated and just as quickly so did the bone-numbing cold. She fled through the door, Serena’s story replaying in her mind.
Chapter 19
It seemed to take forever to herd Serena away from the yard sale and load her purchases into the jeep once Elli came to pick them up. The guilt of having deserted Paige for another day ate at Addie, and she dashed through the back door of her shop. She looked longingly at the blackboard covered by the drop cloth, her fingers itching for the chalk.
Jerry had given her a few more things to consider: the ashes having been spread around and the fact that the police had not taken the feather pen. It was time to fit all the puzzle pieces into place. This craziness had gone on long enough, and there was no way she was going to allow her reputation to be ruined, again. The evidence she needed to prove her innocence had to be hidden in at least one of the clues. She just needed time to work on it. When?
Knowing that Paige, despite the slow day and repeated assurances through text, would need a break by now, Addie dropped her bag on her desk and scanned the shop for her assistant.
It was eerily silent. There wasn’t even the telltale squeak of the book cart wheels that generally meant Paige was restocking shelves. She peered down aisle after aisle. No Paige. Given Paige’s fascination with mystery and paranormal lately, she headed to the far wall and screamed.
Paige lay in a heap on the floor, her slight body covered with books. Addie fell at her side and placed her fingers on Paige’s neck. She stifled her sobs. Paige did not need her to panic. She needed Addie to be strong. Paige’s pulse thrummed against Addie’s fingers, and her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
Addie pushed books off Paige’s head and turned her young friend onto her back.
“Paige, can you hear me?”
The girl’s eyes fluttered but remained closed.
“Paige, it’s me. Open your eyes.”
Addie dialed 911. Within minutes an ambulance arrived, and as the two paramedics loaded Paige onto the stretcher, Marc marched through the door.
Addie eyed him. “You’re back from Salem?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk about that later. Right now”—he glanced at the books on the floor—“we need to deal with what happened here. Are you okay?” He placed his hands on her upper arms. His eyes searched her face, concern written in his expression.
She blinked back tears and swallowed an expanding sob.
“Come on. Let’s sit down so you can tell me what happened.”
A squeamish sensation settled in the pit of Addie’s stomach as Paige was wheeled out the door on a stretcher. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if she was attacked or a heavy truck went by and tumbled the books off the shelves, but I have