Chapter 11 #2
“Sounds good. Hang out here. I’ll be right back.” Getting up, I headed over to the reference librarian and gave him the list.
Taking the paper, he glanced at it. “Let’s go one name at a time, yeah? So I don’t overwhelm you with microfiche rolls.”
“That works.”
“Great.” The man pushed away from the desk. “Give me just a couple minutes. I’ll bring them to you.” He nodded toward the microfiche readers.
“Okay, thank you.” Backing up, I turned and caught Mina’s attention and tipped my head toward the readers.
She got up and headed that way, picking up the extra chair and bringing it with her.
An older gentleman shuffled in front of her, not paying any attention to his surroundings. She paused, waiting for him, then continued, reaching the readers at the same time I did.
“It’s busy in here,” she commented, setting the chair down.
“Yeah. I think this place is a designated cooling shelter.” Once more, I glanced around the library. Many people were just sitting around in groups on their phones, although there were also plenty who had books open.
“This time of year is when I wish it were worth it to have a pool up here.”
I chuckled. “There are plenty of natural streams and lakes you can take a dip in.”
She shuddered. “Been there, done that. That’s a folly of youth. Even in the summer, the water is cold.”
“Nah, it’s refreshing.” One side of my mouth tilted as I turned my head to look at her.
She laughed, sitting down in the extra chair, leaving the one in front of the machine for me. “Sure. If you say so. I’ll stick to tropical waters, though.”
An image of Mina in a bikini popped into my head. Those full breasts pushing against her t-shirt would fill a swim top quite nicely. And the bottoms would show off the swell of her hips to perfection.
Swallowing hard, I worked to banish the picture before my body reacted. I sank into the chair beside her and crossed one leg over my knee, leaning forward while we waited on the librarian. “The beach does sound nice. What do you think? Key West?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No. Too touristy. I’d rather go someplace like Aruba or the U.S. Virgin Islands.”
“How are those less touristy?”
“They’re probably not, but they’re bigger, so fewer people per square mile. Key West is crowded.”
“Have you been there?” She talked like she knew from experience.
“Yes. Many years ago. It was a family vacation. We had fun, but there were definitely a lot of people around. When I go to the beach now, I don’t want to fight for towel space with twelve families, each with three to five kids. I just want to read my book in peace.”
“What would you read?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Probably some romance. I like my sappy books.” A smile slid over her face. “Let me guess. You like action novels?”
“Sci-fi. And westerns.”
Before either of us could ask more questions, the librarian returned with a stack of microfiche rolls. After thanking the man, I took the top one off the stack and threaded it through the reader.
“What reference number am I looking for? And what’s the woman’s name again?”
Mina picked up the paper the librarian left with the rolls. “The first name on the list is Kathy Burl.” She glanced at the number on the roll I’d loaded, then read the reference point.
I spun the dial, and the fiche whirred through the machine. In moments, we were huddled together, reading the news article on the screen.
The scent of coffee and vanilla tickled my nose, along with a heady mix of something unique to Mina. It set off a firestorm in my blood, and it was all I could do not to lean in and bury my nose in her hair.
Clearing my throat, I checked the paper in her hands and moved on to the next news article as I scooted my chair slightly to the side, under the guise of getting a better view of the screen.
We worked our way through the reference numbers for the first name on the list, then returned the fiche when nothing of note came up.
The librarian brought us the rolls for the second name.
Again, nothing popped up as unusual or indicated that the woman had a connection to the antique store, Walter Shuman, or Parker’s Landing.
Microfiche slapped against the roll as I rewound it. Removing the roll from the machine, I reached for the first roll for the third name on the list, Moira Duluth. The librarian had been watching us and was proactive this time, taking the rolls we’d looked through and bringing us the next ones.
Having gotten the hang of loading the fiche and finding the reference points, I quickly found the first article, and we skimmed it.
Mina lifted a hand and pointed at the screen. “I know that name.”
I looked at where she pointed. “Rich Stevenson?” Quickly, I read the paragraph. It said Mr. Stevenson was Moira’s boyfriend. The article quoted him about the last time he saw her.
“Yes.” Mina let her hand fall back to her lap. She pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, glancing away in thought.
“Is it someone who lives in town?” I didn’t recognize the name, but if it wasn’t an old neighbor or someone related to a person I went to school with, I probably wouldn’t. Not unless I saw him. I was better with faces than names.
Her eyebrows drew together. “Maybe.” She wrote the name on the sheet with the missing persons. “I need to think about it.”
“We can look him up, too, if you want.”
“Maybe,” she said again. “It might come to me.”
Giving her another quick glance—she still had that damn lip between her teeth—I moved on to the next reference number.
“This says she was a clerk for the title office in Juneau,” I said, reading the article. “She disappeared after work one night. Her parents said she never came home.”
“She was still living at home?” Mina leaned closer again.
“I guess so. That wasn’t that unusual for that period, though, right?”
Mina lifted a shoulder. “Not really, no. A lot of Alaskan families still live in multi-generational households. If she wasn’t married, I could see her living at home at that age. Does it say where they lived?”
“Umm…” I skimmed the article. “Not specifically, but since she worked in Juneau, I would assume they lived in the city or close by.”
“What else does it say about her?”
“Nothing, really. Just the basics.” I ran my eyes over the article again, but there really wasn’t much.
“Does it say if the police had any suspects or leads?”
I skimmed toward the end, where it talked about the investigation. “The camera footage from the store caught her car leaving, but nothing else.”
Mina tipped her head. “Did they ever find her car?”
“That’s a good question. This article doesn’t mention it, but it’s from just a couple days after her disappearance.
” I glanced at the notebook page with the reference numbers.
“Let’s look.” Spinning the dial, I advanced the microfiche to the next article.
Together, we skimmed it, but it didn’t mention her car. Neither did the next several articles.
A chime sounded overhead as I put the last roll of microfiche into the machine, then an automated voice came over the speaker. “The library is closing in fifteen minutes, thank you.”
With a frown, I hurriedly advanced the film. “Let’s hope we can get through this last one,” I muttered.
“I wish we had more time,” Mina said. “I’d like to look into family and friends for these women. Maybe look up Rich Stevenson. I still haven’t remembered why I know that name.”
“We can go back to my place, if you want, and use my laptop to do some internet searches.”
Mina tipped her head, thinking. “Possibly. I can’t stay too long, though. Five a.m. comes early.”
One side of my mouth tilted up. “That it does.” When she smiled back and my heart thumped, I turned away so I could focus. Her pretty lips and twinkling blue eyes were too damn distracting. Scrolling forward, I found the first article.
We made quick work of reading it and the next few short ones in the paper over the subsequent days, but any new information petered out as the case grew cold.
“They never did find her car,” Mina said as I removed the roll from the machine.
“No. But that’s not all that surprising. There’s so much wilderness around here that no one ever visits, hers probably isn’t the only vehicle that’s been ditched and never found.” Gathering the rolls, I stood. “You ready?”
“Yep.” Scooting back her chair, she got up before returning it to where we found it earlier, then met me at the reference desk, and we walked out.
“So, do you want to come back to my house for research?” I glanced at our vehicles, then at her.
I wasn’t sure it was the best idea, considering the way I wanted to reach for her every time I looked at her pretty face, but I couldn’t help but hope she would say yes.
Forget the sexual attraction; I just wanted to spend more time in her presence.
“Um…” Her voice trailed off, and she turned her gaze toward the road, a small wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. “Sure. But like I said, I can’t stay long. Maybe we can come up with a few points to dig into separately when we have time? You know, split the workload?”
I nodded. “Sounds good. Do you want to just follow me?”
“Yes.” As soon as the word left her mouth, she took a step toward the curb.
I followed. “I’ll go slow so I don’t lose you.”
A wide smile split her face. “Text me your address. Just in case.”
“Will do.” Crossing the lot, I got into my truck, sending her a quick text as I started the engine. After buckling up and checking to make sure she was ready to go, I pulled onto the street.
Nerves strummed in my gut, twisting my insides. Which, honestly, boggled my mind. Women never made me nervous. I knew I was handsome and charming. My ego was relatively healthy—but not overblown.
But it felt like the stakes were higher with Mina. I didn’t want to misstep and ruin any chance I had with her.
Shifting in my seat, I resolved to be on my best behavior. No crazy, overt innuendo or flirting. But not so little she didn’t think I was interested. Somehow, I had to find the balance.
I glanced in my rearview mirror, seeing her car behind me. My blood heated once more, knowing she was following me home.
Blowing out a breath, I tamped down the need.
Balance, I reminded myself.