Chapter Nine
Libby discovered that the second drawer of the file cabinet made the first one look like a room in a five-star hotel. A whole commune full of granddaddy longlegs had taken up residence. Opal would have dropped from acute cardiac arrest if she had even peeked inside that drawer. Victoria had always said the only good spider, mouse, or snake was a dead one. She didn’t care if any of them helped with the environment. According to her, if one got too close, it would soon head off to wherever varmints go after this life.
Libby thought about asking Opal for a can of bug spray—surely she had one in the shop or maybe even a small one in her purse—but then she thought better of that idea. Spraying the drawer would possibly destroy some of the documents. There was nothing left to do but carefully remove one file at a time, take off one of her sandals to use as a weapon, and go to work.
She eased out a file folder, laid it on the floor, and took care of a dozen spiders that went in all directions. She felt like she was playing Whac-A-Mole when several more ran over the sides of the drawer.
“Feels like a military invasion,” she said.
“Did I hear the word military?” Tatum poked her head into the room.
“I was talking to myself about all these spiders being like an invasion of troops.” Libby swatted half a dozen scaling the wall. Evidently, Madam Universe had turned off her hearing aid when Libby hoped that Tatum wouldn’t come around the store.
“I’m not afraid of bombs, shells, or the desert heat, but I’m not stepping foot in a room with spiders.” Tatum shivered and slammed the door shut.
“Must be an inherited thing,” Libby whispered and kept playing Whac-A-Spider until she didn’t see another one anywhere. Then she pulled a second file folder out and started all over again.
She was still killing spiders and putting their carcasses into the trash when Opal yelled from outside the door a few minutes later. “We’re done for the day.”
Minilee peeked in the door, rolled her eyes, and said, “We’re going to have lunch with Tatum.”
“Where are y’all going to eat?” Libby thought she might hand Minilee a few dollars and ask them to bring her back a burger or maybe even a Subway sandwich.
“At my house,” Opal answered. “I made Tatum’s favorite soup this morning, and it’s been simmering all day.”
Libby had quickly formed a polite no answer in case one of the three on the other side of the door asked if she would like to join them, but no one did. Then she decided a bowl of warm soup would sure hit the spot if Opal offered to bring some to the store for her. Again, no one did.
Apparently, family trumped friends. Maybe Minilee’s little eye roll was a sign that she wasn’t too keen on spending time with Tatum, either.
But then, if Libby was truly honest with herself, she couldn’t even call Opal and Minilee her friends. She had had meals with them, worked with them for a few hours, and gone grocery shopping with them once. Even though she’d shared some of her past with them, she still wasn’t sure she could call them anything but acquaintances.
“I am not kin to the people in Sawmill. There hasn’t been enough time to build anything like a bond between any of them. This is a job. Period.”
“We’re home,” Benny told Elvis when he could see the SAWMILL ANTIQUES sign up ahead of the truck. “Seems like this trip took longer than any of the past ones, and yet it was a day shorter.” He pulled the trailer around to the rear of the store and opened the truck door.
Elvis bounded across him, ran to the nearest bush and hiked a leg, and then ran inside.
“I figured you’d be ready to chase a squirrel or maybe flop down under a shade tree. I guess you want to check the place before we go home and fix us some supper. Well, there you go—have at it, old boy.” Benny unlocked the overhead door and swung it open.
Elvis sniffed the air, ran through the store, and lay down in front of the settee where Opal and Minilee often sat. He’d done the same thing a few other times when they had stopped at a roadside park on their trips. Usually, Benny would find the stub of a joint not far from Elvis when it happened, but he had never found drugs in the store.
“Not again, Opal! I thought Sally had stopped smoking pot.” Benny growled and narrowed his eyes. “Did a customer drop something, or is Libby using drugs?”
Elvis stood up, put his nose on the floor, and like a bloodhound on the scent of a raccoon, he went to a red velvet settee beside the table and chairs where Opal and Minilee usually sat for their break times. He barked and flopped down again. Benny checked the sofa and found a joint between the cushions.
“Good boy,” he said after a long sigh. “Now, what do we do about it? I can’t deal with Opal today—especially with Tatum. You were in the store on Sunday, and you didn’t detect anything then. The only people who’ve been here since then have been Opal, Minilee, and Libby. Maybe it’s Libby.”
Elvis went to the front door, looked back over his shoulder, and barked.
“You’ve done your job, and it’s up to me to decide what I have to do.” Benny fumed all the way across the parking lot.
Elvis flopped down under the shade of the table on the front porch of the station. The dog could stay there if he wanted, but Benny intended to walk all the way to the river and toss the joint into the current. The red water would carry it away, destroying it bit by bit until it was completely gone. He hadn’t gone a hundred yards before Elvis ran past him. How the animal could rest for five minutes and then act like a puppy for the next hour or two was a complete mystery to Benny.
He rounded a curve, and Elvis shot ahead of him. Running full blast on three legs and trying to wiggle with happiness at the same time made for quite a sight. Then the dog came to a halt so fast that, had he been a truck on the highway, there would have definitely been the screeching of tires. He flopped down beside Libby and laid his head in her lap.
Benny had run out of time to plan what to say to her, so he just sucked in a lungful of air and slowly made his way down the path to the edge of the river. He walked right past her, tossed the joint into the water, and then stooped down and washed his hands, hopefully taking all the scent off.
“Welcome home,” she said. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
He straightened up and dried his hands on the legs of his jeans. “I didn’t know that you used drugs.”
“What makes you think I do?” she asked.
He let out a long sigh. “Come on, Libby. You might as well own up to it. Elvis detected drugs at the door to my office, and then he went straight to the settee beside Opal and Minilee’s break table. Your joint must’ve fallen out of your pocket and landed between the cushions on the settee. If the authorities found drugs in my place of business, it could cause all kinds of problems.”
“Is that what you threw away in the river?” she asked. “Maybe it was yours and you don’t want to take responsibility for your actions.”
She seemed to be awfully mild about protesting the accusation. Benny couldn’t make sense of her calm attitude. If she was guilty, she should be shrugging and saying that everyone smoked a little pot. If she wasn’t, she would be throwing a fit over the fact that he’d accused her of using drugs in the store. Still, his two elderly neighbors ... He drew his brows down. What if one of them was growing pot behind the warehouse beside the wild blackberries? Opal could be doing that for Sally.
“It was not mine,” he snapped, vowing to confront Opal and Minilee about the issue tomorrow. “Are you sure—”
“I want you to think about something.” Libby’s eyes narrowed, and she spoke through clenched teeth. “But first, let me tell you about my day. I killed at least a million granddaddy longleg spiders that had hatched in and then crawled out of the file cabinet. I worked right through lunch, and now we can lay our hands on an invoice in a matter of seconds in two whole drawers.”
What does all that have to do with marijuana? Benny wondered, but he didn’t say anything.
“I finished at four o’clock,” Libby went on after taking a breath, “and my legs were aching from sitting on the floor for hours, so I decided to take a walk to stretch them out. I like it here by the river. It’s quiet, and it’s a good place to think about a lot of things. I haven’t even been in my apartment, much less taken a shower to get the smell of dust and sweat—or what you are accusing me of, marijuana—from my clothes and body. Elvis bounded down the path and laid his head in my lap.” She locked eyes with Benny in a daring stare-down and continued to pet Elvis at the same time. “Consider that for a minute.”
“What does Elvis have to do with ...” He stopped and slapped his thigh. “Because if you had even touched that joint, Elvis would have given me the sign that you had been handling drugs, right? I can’t believe I missed that.”
She nodded. “I’m not addicted to anything, Benny. I lived with a gambling addict and swore I would never have a problem with drugs, alcohol, gambling, or even chocolate. The only thing that comes close to being an obsession—if I can even use that word—is that I talk to myself. Out loud.”
“Chocolate?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yep, even that. I refuse to eat it every day in case it could get to be a habit.”
“I’m sorry I accused you,” he apologized and felt so guilty, he couldn’t look her in the eye.
And then Libby giggled.
He looked up. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I just got a vision of Opal and Minilee smoking a little pot. Maybe that’s why they don’t complain of backaches after bending over and working in their garden all day.” She giggled again.
Benny chuckled and then laughed out loud. “I never thought of that—and I’m sorry I accused you.”
“I can’t blame you for accusing me instead of asking me or not trusting me yet. I don’t trust anyone I haven’t known for a long time. This is the first time you didn’t just ask me nicely, so you get a pass. The next time you do that, I’ll pack my things and be gone within a couple of hours. I respect the people I work for, and I expect a little of that in return.”
Benny frowned again. “Was anyone else in the store other than Opal and Minilee?”
“You’ll have to ask them about that,” Libby answered. “I was in the office all day. Opal’s afraid of spiders, remember? Now, I’m going back to my apartment and making myself a sandwich. Do you want one?”
Benny couldn’t imagine Opal or Minilee having marijuana—maybe a glass of homemade wine occasionally. He’d heard that Sally liked to dabble in a little kush when she was younger, but not Opal.