"What's up?" I asked as I stepped outside, acting as though he didn't affect me in the slightest.

"We got a call at the station from Bernard Sampson." Mitch's face looked graver than normal. "He says his wife never came home last night, and he's worried sick about her."

"Oh my gosh, that poor little old lady." My heart thumped for a totally different reason now. "You don't think anything awful happened to her, do you?" I fidgeted and paced. "It was freezing last night, and the killer is still on the loose."

"Let's not go there, Tink. Calm down and let's try to find her, all right?"

I took several deep breaths. "Okay."

We got in his car and cruised the town. We went to the library with no luck. No one had seen her. We went to the shopping district but still no luck. No one in the restaurants or at the church had seen her, either. After an hour of searching, we were headed back to my house when I spotted a movement off the side of the road.

"Wait a minute, back up," I blurted.

"What?" Mitch slammed on the breaks.

"Back there. I think I saw something."

He backed up his cruiser. I searched the street by Carolyn's house and Amanda Robbins's old house, which still had the yellow tape around it.

"I don't see anything," Mitch said, scanning the area.

"I swear I saw something." I opened my door.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm getting out to investigate. Isn't that our job? Jeesh." I stepped out of the car and closed the door.

"Get back in here, you crazy-headed fool," he snapped through the window he'd rolled down. "It could be dangerous."

"Yes, and poor Mrs. Sampson could be hurt." I crouched down and started zigzagging across the yard toward the librarian's house like I'd seen in the movies.

Detective Stone hopped out and jogged until he caught up with me, tapping me on the shoulder of my humongous puffy coat. "What are you trying to do, scare the bad guy off by line dancing?"

"Ha, ha." I continued my crazy movements. "Aren't you supposed to run in a zigzag pattern when chasing someone?"

"No, you only do that if you are the one being chased and the bad guy is shooting at you with a gun." He ran right along beside me. "Stop doing that, you look like a fool." He snagged his arm around my waist and pulled me back against him.

"Oh." I stopped moving, enjoying the warmth of his wide, hard, sculpted chest for a moment, then came to my senses and stepped out of his hold to stand up straight and march up the driveway.

"Now what the h.e.l.l are you doing?" He s.n.a.t.c.hed my hand and yanked me to a stop. "You don't want to advertise your approach, either."

I looked down at our hands and pulled mine from his, crossing my arms in front of me and tapping my boot. "Okay, smarty-pants, what am I supposed to do?"

"Let me go first. You don't even have a gun."

"I won't argue with that."

"That'd be a first." He grunted. "Stay close."

I stepped behind him and followed closely. So close that when he stopped short by the corner, I bounced off his back, grabbing his hips so I wouldn't fall. He craned his neck around and scowled down at me from over his shoulder.

"Not that close," he snapped.

"Sorry." I winced and backed off a step. Okay, a baby step, but after the standoff with Pendleton, I wasn't taking any chances. I wanted to solve this case, but I didn't want to die in the process.

The detective searched the area, made sure it was safe, and then peeked around the corner. He quickly stood up and holstered his gun. "There she is. I think she's alone, but-"

That was all I needed to hear. I raced around him and ran to the old woman's side, glancing over my shoulder. He threw up his hands and followed, shaking his head the entire way. She sat at the base of the librarian's bedroom window, exactly where the footprints had been that night. She had her ap.r.o.n on, as was her habit, I was beginning to see, but at least this time her shoes matched. And thank G.o.d she'd worn a heavy coat.

"Mrs. Sampson, this is Detective Stone. Can you hear me?" Mitch asked.

She sat there staring straight ahead, looking dazed.

"Maude, it's Sunny. I'm so glad we found you." I touched her cheek.

She turned to look at me. "Sunny? Have we met?" she asked.

Sadness filled every ounce of my body and darkened my soul like tea filling my cup and staining the water black. "Yes, a couple of times. Bernard is looking for you."

"Oh dear, did I miss our lunch date again?" she asked. "My shift at the library takes up so much of my time."

"I know, but I'm sure they'll understand if you want to take a break." I held her hand. "Bernard is really worried about you. Would you like to go see him?"

"Oh yes. He's a good man. He works so hard for all of us. Where are my girls?"

"They're fine," Mitch said, giving me a funny look. Once he recaptured Maude's attention, he asked, "Are you ready to go, Mrs. Sampson?"

She gnawed her bottom lip. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, no. We're just going to have Dr. Wilc.o.x check you out." Mitch helped her to her feet. "Make sure you're okay."

"I told Bernard I was dying, but he wouldn't listen to me." She sighed. "He never listens to me."

I looked her in the eye and squeezed her hands. "Something tells me he'll listen to you now."

Dr. Wilc.o.x came out of the exam room, sending Maude home with her husband, Bernard. Bernard stopped at the exit to the waiting room and turned to the detective and me. He cleared his throat and said, "Thank you for bringing my wife back to me. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found her."

Mitch nodded once in return.

I said, "You're welcome, Mr. Sampson. Please take care of her. She's a little fragile."

Bernard replied, "I know all about my wife, Ms. Meadows. I've always looked out for what's mine." The lines in his face looked deeper today, like the worry and stress had finally taken its toll.

"That's my Bernard," Maude said, patting his arm. "A real trouper." She looked exhausted. He held her hand tight, and they walked out together.

Dr. Wilc.o.x reentered the waiting room and called Detective Stone and me into his office.

"Well, what's the verdict, Doc?" Detective Stone asked, leaning a hip against the wall.

I refused a seat as well, too keyed up to sit.

Doc sat on the edge of his desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Mrs. Sampson is worse off than I had originally thought."

Gee, ya think? I wanted to shout. I was no doctor, but even I could tell she wasn't exactly all there. Instead, I smiled politely and inquired, "Really? How so?"

"She's always complained of being tired, but that's a natural part of aging. Forgetting some minor things is also an inevitable part of growing old, but I think Mrs. Sampson's forgetfulness has gone beyond the norm."

"What do you mean?" Mitch asked.

"Well, she's not just forgetting simple things. Part of her short-term memory is going as well. At times she seems to think she still works at the library. And she often forgets she's met someone a day later."

"I can attest to that," I said. "I've met her several times, yet she never remembers. And she always forgets to take her ap.r.o.n off, sometimes even mismatches her shoes."

"I'm afraid it's the early stages of Alzheimer's," Doc Wilc.o.x admitted. "Bernard isn't going to be able to take care of her on his own for much longer. It's a shame. Last I heard they were planning to retire in Florida. That's not likely to happen now. His daughters live a couple of hours from here nowhere near Florida. Without their help, I don't see how Bernard can swing it."

"Thanks, Dr. Wilc.o.x." Mitch stood up and shook his hand. "I'm glad she's safe. The last thing Divinity needs is for someone else to die."

"I couldn't agree more," Dr. Wilc.o.x responded.

"Thank you, Doctor," I said and followed Mitch out to the car. "So where to, Detective?"

"The library. I'm in the mood to do some reading." He looked at me as he started the car. "You in?"

"Um, okay, sure." I fastened my seat belt. "What kind of reading?"

"Personnel files."

"But I thought we pretty much ruled Carolyn Hanes out," I said.

"Carolyn's not the one I'm interested in. I never checked out Maude. Something seems off about her retirement, and then there's the fact that we found her by the librarian's window." He rubbed his jaw while turning down the road for the library. "I want to know why."

"Hasn't she been through enough?" I felt really bad for Mrs. Sanders. She was so confused, and she seemed to be getting worse every day. With her daughters gone and her husband working a lot of overtime, she was virtually alone.

"Tink, I'm not saying she's guilty." Mitch's voice was low and gentle. "I'm just saying she might need more help than we realize."

"Fine, I'm in." I was on a mission now. I pointed my finger in the detective's face. "But only to prove there's no way that sweet little old lady could be a murderer."

"Fair enough."

A few minutes later, Mitch pulled into the parking lot of the library and cut the engine. I followed the detective inside, and we headed straight to the circulation desk where the new manager, Carolyn Hanes, was talking to one of her employees.

"Good afternoon, Miss Hanes," Detective Stone said. "You mind if we have a word with you?"

She looked warily at me, but she nodded, excused herself to her employee, and then to us said, "Follow me." She led the way in the back to her office and closed the door behind us.

I scanned the room but didn't see any signs left over from Lucinda or Holly having been there. Carolyn had definitely put her stamp on the room. "I noticed the teddy bear I left is gone," I said. "What happened?"

Carolyn shrugged. "Ms. Smith said it was a fire hazard. I guess it fell off the shelf and landed on her desk next to a candle and then burst into flames."

"No kidding? Imagine that," I said.

"I know. It could have burned down the whole library. That's why I issued a new policy." She locked eyes with me, and I wondered if she'd somehow found out the bear held a nanny cam. "No gifts that aren't of monetary value are to be accepted."

I'll bet you did, I thought, but said, "Hmmm. That's a shame."

"Isn't it, though?" Carolyn turned to the detective. "How can I help you?"

"I need to see the personnel records from when Amanda Robbins was manager here," the detective answered.

"But you already looked through them."

"Not all of them," he explained.

She looked confused and a little troubled, but she complied. What choice did she have if she didn't want to look guilty and uncooperative? "Certainly. You can use my office if you'd like."

"Thank you. That would be wonderful," I said all sugary sweet.

A few minutes later Detective Stone and I sat at Carolyn Hanes's desk with a large box between us. He took half of the files, while I took the other half. We decided to pore over every one once more in case he had missed something the first time around.

Finally he came to Maude Sampson's file. "This can't be right."

"What?"

"It says here that Maude didn't retire." He looked up and met my eyes. "She was fired."

"You're kidding." I leaned forward and scanned her file. "Why would her husband lie about it?" I wondered aloud.

"Like he said, he's always protected her. He probably didn't want the scandal or embarra.s.sment to taint her name." Mitch read on. "You're not going to believe this one. Carolyn Hanes was the one who got her fired. Her report on Maude says she was incompetent, forgetting things, and messing up the catalog system."

"You know," I said as something occurred to me. "Maude worked there much longer than Carolyn. If Maude hadn't gotten fired, she would have been in line for the management position. They might not have been able to discriminate against her because of her age, but the fact that she was incompetent was a whole different matter. I think Carolyn was desperate for a higher-paying job because of her shopping addiction. While she might not have murdered her best friend, I doubt she was above getting Maude fired."

My cell phone buzzed. "Hang on, Detective, I've got to take this." I answered the call.

"Hey, Dad, what's up?" I listened in shock. "Are you sure?" He filled me in on all the details. "Wow, okay, I'll tell him." I hung up and stared at Mitch with my mouth hanging open.

"What the h.e.l.l is it?" Mitch sat forward.

"Dad finally got the doctor to talk." As much as it pained me to say this, I knew I had no choice. "Maude Sampson was on digoxin for an irregular heartbeat." I blew out a breath. "I guess that means she could have committed murder, especially if she was angry at Amanda for firing her. She loved working at the library. It was her life, especially after her girls left."

"Don't jump to conclusions, Tink. What else did your father say?"

I thought for a minute and then brightened a little. "He did say the pharmacy revealed Amanda Robbins used to pick up Maude's prescription for her because Bernard worked overtime at the mill. Amanda would bring it to the library and give it to Maude at work before she was fired."

"Carolyn would have had access to it," Mitch pointed out. "She still could have been playing both sides and given it to Pendleton to use on Amanda when the bookstore deal didn't go through. And then jumped ship with the FBI when things started to look bad for Alex and Gladys. And h.e.l.l, for that matter, I think Gladys Montgomery would do just about anything to have one of her treasures declared a national landmark."

"Do any of them have an alibi?" I asked.

"They all claimed to be each other's alibi, hashing out the details of the deal and what the repercussions would be if it went through," he answered. "But no one saw them."