Chapter 11
11
I vy sat at her desk by the open door in the library, the sun slanting across the room as she reviewed the monthly financial accounts. With the latest discovery still on her mind, she could hardly focus, but the work still had to be done.
The inn’s finances were improving, but there was still a long way to go before she would breathe easier. The renovation had to stay within her detailed budget. She made a few notes to discuss with her bookkeeper when the phone rang.
“Seabreeze Inn, this is Ivy speaking.”
“Hello, Ivy,” a pleasant male voice replied. “Please connect me to Elizabeth Carter’s room.”
“I’m sorry,” Ivy said. “We don’t have anyone by that name staying with us.”
“You didn’t even check.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you memorize every guest’s name?”
“I don’t need to. We are closed for renovations.”
“How about Beth Becker?” His tone was still casual but insistent. “Has she stayed there recently?”
A slight prickle of unease traveled up Ivy’s spine. “No one is here by that name either. You might try the Seal Cove Inn.”
There was a brief pause before the man asked, “Is there a bookmobile in town?”
Ivy’s radar went off immediately. The question seemed oddly disconnected from his search for this Elizabeth person and was now related to Libby.
The coincidence was too strange to ignore.
“I have another call I need to take. Goodbye.” She hung up before he could respond.
Ivy stared at the phone, feeling unsettled. She’d been borderline rude to the man. Perhaps he was only looking for information about local services. Yet, she was trying to trust her intuition more, and something about that conversation wasn’t normal.
The hours passed in a blur of invoices and billing statements, yet the strange call lingered in the back of her mind.
Later that afternoon, Ivy heard someone singing. She stepped out of the library and onto the veranda. Libby was walking to her room, singing as she went.
“You sound like you had a good day,” Ivy said, grateful for the distraction from her bookkeeping. “I’d love to hear about it.”
“It was wonderful.” Libby’s eyes shimmered with happiness. “The bookmobile was packed all day. I helped so many children and adults find books. That’s the most gratifying part of my work.”
Ivy smiled at Libby’s natural enthusiasm. She radiated joy, and it was contagious.
“You love your work, don’t you?”
“I do,” Libby said. “I love meeting people and interacting over books. It’s the only time when I feel myself. I’m usually one of those awkward people who gets picked last for sports teams.”
“That’s not who I see in front of me. I see a beautiful young woman, strong and capable.” Ivy was genuinely pleased that Libby had found such happiness in Summer Beach. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your visit and that we could accommodate you. I hope you return soon.”
Libby’s smile faltered. “I told people I would be back next week. Could I stay here again? I don’t mind the noise.”
Ivy hated to disappoint her. “I’m afraid we’ll be closed for construction starting Monday. But Los Angeles is close enough for you to make a day trip, isn’t it?”
“I wish I didn’t have to leave,” Libby said. “Summer Beach is one of the friendliest towns I’ve been to.”
Bennett had shared his thoughts about having a bookmobile in the community, but that was only at the idea stage. There was nothing she could offer Libby with certainty.
“It sounds like you have a job waiting for you in Los Angeles,” she said.
She wondered if she should tell Libby about the phone call. The caller hadn’t asked for her, so it likely had nothing to do with her at all. And Libby was so happy right now.
“We’ve had quite a day, too,” Ivy said. “We found the plans for the library and art museum Amelia Erickson wanted to build. It would have been a beautiful addition to Summer Beach.”
Libby’s eyes widened. “So she was serious about it. I wish I could see it built.” Her expression grew wistful.
“I can show you the plans now.”
Libby looked tempted. “I met some readers who invited me out for dinner, so I should freshen up. How about later tonight or tomorrow morning?”
“Right after breakfast is fine.” Ivy paused. “Are you taking the bookmobile to the village again tomorrow?”
Libby nodded. “As a service to those who couldn’t make it today. Then I’ll be on my way.” She hesitated as a wistful look crossed her face. “Thanks again for letting me stay despite construction.”
“We’re glad to have you,” Ivy said, and she meant it. “It turned out to be no trouble at all, and you’ve made many of our friends very happy. I hope you’ll come through Summer Beach often.”
As she watched Libby cross to her room, she saw Reed catch up to her, and they chatted for a few minutes. Although she couldn’t hear what they were saying, they seemed to agree on something, and both hurried off in different directions.
Ivy wondered what that was about, and then she remembered how they’d talked last night at the family supper. She leaned against the open door to the veranda, enjoying the fresh air as she turned over ideas in her mind.
“You look like you’re plotting something,” Poppy said, appearing in the doorway to the library with two mugs of tea. “I figured this is one of the few times we can have a private afternoon tea. Shelly is right behind me.”
Ivy accepted the steaming cup gratefully. “It feels a little odd not to have guests to entertain.”
Shelly eased in with a chilled glass and plopped into a chair.
Ivy grinned at her juice cocktail. “Virgin or fully loaded?”
“Lightly loaded with just a whisper,” Shelly replied. “I have to keep up with Daisy. On second thought, maybe I should make it a double and let Mitch take over tonight.” She sipped a little and wagged her eyebrows. “Or maybe we’ll put Daisy to bed early.”
“You can hope.” Ivy laughed, knowing that Shelly had earned a break. She’d been working in the garden and greenhouse all day.
Shelly dangled her feet over the arm of the chair. “Mitch said Libby’s bookmobile was a huge success today. I hope she puts Summer Beach on her regular rotation.”
Ivy sipped her tea. “I’m pretty sure Libby would stay in Summer Beach if she could.”
“Really?” Poppy perched on the edge of the desk. “Maybe the community could hire her to stay on. She seems perfect for the role.”
“She does,” Ivy agreed. “But we don’t know anything about her training or background. And funding would have to be approved by the city. That takes time.”
Poppy’s eyes lit at the challenge. “I could write a proposal and research grant options.”
“That would be a huge help,” Ivy said, remembering how much time that took. “Bennett would appreciate that, too.”
Poppy turned to her computer. “Okay, let’s see where Libby worked before. I overheard her talking to someone. She let slip that she worked in Phoenix for the library system. I’ll bet we can find out what position she held. It would help to include her in our proposal, and it would be easier not to have to interview people.”
Sipping her drink, Shelly nodded. “Start sleuthing.”
Poppy tapped Libby’s name on the keyboard and pressed a key. She scanned the results. “There’s no record of her. Could Libby be a nickname?”
Ivy thought for a moment. With a sinking feeling, she said, “Try Elizabeth.”
Poppy tapped in the new name but still shook her head at the results. “Nothing except centenarian obituaries. It’s like she never existed in Phoenix, or anywhere in Arizona. Usually, there’s some trace of a person. Social media accounts, at least. Let me try adding bookmobile to the search.”
While Poppy searched in vain, Ivy told them about the phone call. “Maybe this is related, or maybe not.”
Shelly was quiet for a moment. “You should tell Libby about that, Ives.”
“And frighten her?” She wasn’t so sure.
“Maybe she has reason to be scared,” Shelly said.
Poppy leaned forward. “Or maybe we’re the ones who should be concerned. What if she’s a murderer on the run?”
“I’d choose something other than a bright bookmobile if it were me,” Shelly said.
“Think about it.” Poppy shook her head. “A mild-mannered librarian might be the perfect cover.”
“Okay, enough conjecture, you two.” Ivy was more than a little concerned, but she didn’t want to let on. “She’s leaving in the morning. If we want to consider her bookmobile for the community, she’ll have to submit an application with identification. Same as anyone else who would have a city contract.”
While Shelly and Poppy talked, Ivy frowned at her tea, wondering if Reed had asked Libby out tonight. Still, he knew she was leaving tomorrow, so it couldn’t be serious.
As if reading Ivy’s mind, Poppy pressed her lips together. “I have to warn Reed about this. He’ll tell me it’s none of my business again, but he’s my brother, and I’ve been right before.” She rose and hurried away.
After Shelly left, Ivy decided to take a better look at the cabinetry. She tapped a message to Reed, then got a cleaning rag and a bottle of furniture oil from the kitchen. In the music room, she ran the soft cloth over the built-ins they’d uncovered. The orange-scented oil revealed beautiful, finely grained wood.
Reed walked in. “You wanted to see me?”
She nodded. “I’m still in awe about the plans we found. Libby talked about this, even before we discovered the plans. Do you think that’s odd?” But then, maybe Libby saw the same article Nan found.
“Probably a coincidence.” Reed asked, “Is Libby staying over tonight?”
“She is,” Ivy replied. “Why do you ask?”
Reed shrugged, but Ivy noticed a hint of self-consciousness cross his face. “She’s interesting, that’s all. Since she doesn’t know anyone in town, I thought she might like to have dinner with me tonight.”
Ivy bit back a smile. Reed wasn’t usually so transparent, and she found his awkwardness endearing. “Have you spoken to Poppy?”
Reed shook his head. “Not really. I’ve been busy with my crew. I’ll catch up with her later.” Reed quickly changed the subject, gesturing toward the cabinetry. “You wanted to talk about these beauties?”
Ivy ran her hand over the old wood. “This is the kind of storage space I wanted in here. Instead of building new cabinetry, can these be restored?” The craftsmanship hidden beneath years of neglect was still lovely.
“They were well built, like the rest of the cabinetry in the house,” Reed said, inspecting the doors. He ran a hand along the wood, then checked the tarnished hardware and examined the hinges. “I’m pretty sure we can,” he said finally, nodding with confidence. “We should replace the hardware, though. I see some broken parts, and this room will have a lot of use.”
“Then let’s do that.” She was pleased to see another piece of her vision fall into place.
“I have a restoration expert who does fine work on cabinetry. I’ll put him on the schedule. The cost should fall well within your overage allowance.” Reed made a few notes in his notebook before excusing himself to continue work.
As she watched him leave, she thought about how her nephew had neatly skirted her question about whether he’d spoken to his sister. That was between them. For now, at least.