Chapter 27
JUNE
Asingle light glowed in the front window, casting warmth onto the small porch. June knocked on the door and waited.
It took just a moment for Diane to answer.
When the door opened, the assistant librarian stood there in casual clothes.
Worn jeans and an oversized cardigan, her hair down around her shoulders instead of pulled back in its usual neat ponytail.
She looked younger this way, more vulnerable.
And completely surprised by her visitor.
"Ms. June?" Diane's eyes widened, confusion flickering across her pale face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, dear. I just wanted to talk to you some more." June kept her voice gentle, unthreatening. She watched Diane's expression carefully.
The two women’s gaze held for a long moment. Then, Diane's face fell with something heavy… resignation, perhaps. Or the terrible weight of secrets finally coming to light. She stepped back wordlessly, and June stepped into the tiny living room.
The cottage was a duplex, and once inside, June could see it was little more than a one-bedroom apartment.
But Diane had made it a home. Everything was neat, clean, and simple in a way that spoke of limited resources carefully managed.
The kitchen occupied one corner, separated from the living area by a small breakfast bar with two stools tucked underneath.
A table for two sat close by, its surface clear except for a single book and a coffee mug.
The living room held a diminutive fireplace that appeared more decorative than functional, a small two-seater sofa covered in a faded floral pattern, and a single armchair that looked like it had come from a thrift store.
An older model television sat on a small bookshelf that also held perhaps twenty books, mostly romance novels and a few non-fiction books.
It was the home of a lovely woman who had taken what she had and made the most of it on the small salary of a library assistant. Someone who'd worked hard to create something stable and peaceful. June appreciated it all.
Diane waved June toward the sofa, then perched on the edge of the armchair, her hands clenched together in her lap. She lifted her head and held June's gaze, waiting. Her face was pale but composed, as if she'd been expecting this moment and had steeled herself for it.
June settled onto the sofa, taking her time, not rushing. She smiled softly and began. "I felt that there was more to your story."
"More?" Diane's voice was barely above a whisper.
"At the vet clinic. When you went to pick up Lucy." June watched the emotions flicker through Diane's eyes… surprise, fear, understanding, then something that looked almost like relief. One after the other, rapid as heartbeats. Then finally, Diane nodded.
The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other like they'd been held back too long. "I never meant for anything to happen. You have to believe that. It was just one thing after another, and I didn't know what to do.”
“You were in a situation that made you fear?”
“Yes… but not like you’re thinking. I never gave anything to Raymond.” She bent forward, and her eyes filled with tears that spilled over onto her cheeks. "I've been so scared and confused."
“My dear, I have no pre-conceived idea of what may have happened. But I’m here because I want you to be safe when you finally tell us what occurred.”
Diane’s gaze widened as she looked around. “Us?”
June leaned forward, her voice still gentle. "I took the liberty to ask Sara Lee and the sheriff to come by.”
For a moment, Diane looked panicked. Her breath caught, and her hands gripped each other so tightly her knuckles went white. June reached out and covered Diane’s trembling hands with her own warm ones. "I'll be right here. I'll just talk to you, and he can listen."
Slowly, Diane nodded. June stood and moved to the door, opening it to reveal Sara Lee standing on the porch and Sheriff Gordon climbing out of his patrol car at the curb. The lights were off since he'd had the sense to come quietly, without dramatics.
"Sheriff Gordon. Sara Lee. Please come in. Diane and I were just beginning to find out more about what has been happening."
They entered quietly. Sara Lee's face was tight with concern as she sat on the sofa next to June.
Sheriff Gordon glanced around the small room and then walked over to the kitchen table.
He carefully reached for one of the kitchen chairs and carried it closer to the others.
He settled into it with a slight creak, his large frame making the delicate chair look almost comically small.
Once settled, he looked over at June, his expression carefully neutral.
June caught his eye and gave the briefest shake of her head, offering a silent message for him to let her handle the situation. To his credit, Gordon nodded slightly and sat back, his hands resting on his knees.
June turned back to Diane and spoke calmly. "I've been thinking about that day at the vet clinic. When Helena called you to pick up Lucy after Scarsdale was euthanized. You went inside to find her, didn't you?"
Diane nodded, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Why don't you tell us what happened? From the beginning."
Diane took a shaky breath, then began. "I asked the vet receptionist where Lucy was, and they said she was in the grieving room.
It's the small room to the side where they perform.
.." She paused, swallowing hard. "Euthanasia. It... it allows owners to grieve and be able to slip in and out without everyone in the lobby seeing them. The veterinarian and techs can come and go from the back also without everyone in the lobby being privy to the owner’s grief.”
"That's a lovely idea," June said, nodding encouragingly.
"Yes..." Diane's voice grew steadier as she talked, as if telling the story gave her something to focus on besides her fear.
"We had one at the clinic where I used to work.
" She paused a moment, then continued, "I went inside the room, thinking that Lucy would be there, but the room was empty.
I saw Scarsdale's blanket and Lucy's purse still on the table.”
June could picture it… a small, quiet room designed for private grief.
"The door leading to the back was open,” Diane continued, her voice dropping, "and I realized that Lucy must have gone back with the techs and Dr. Carl. I hesitated... I had no idea what to do, but it didn’t feel right to leave her purse unattended.
So, I grabbed her purse and swept his blanket up off the counter.
I’d just gone through the door, back to the lobby to find out where she was, when Lucy came out. She was so distraught."
Diane's own tears started flowing again at the memory. "I dropped everything in my hands to the floor and just hugged her for a while. She was sobbing. Just... broken. She told me that he had passed away in her arms. He knew it was his time, and in the arms of his beloved Lucy, he died.”
June opened her bag and pulled out a packet of tissues, handing them to Diane. The younger woman looked surprised but took them, murmuring her thanks. June offered a small smile, then murmured, “Just something we older women always seem to have in our purses.”
Diane nodded, then wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
When ready, she said, “Then I scooped her purse and Scarsdale’s blanket up from the floor, and Lucy and I made it to my vehicle.
I took her home and stayed with her since her husband wasn’t home yet.
He was on his way and asked if someone could stay with her.
I fixed her some tea, sat with her for a while, then Helena came by. "
She paused, her hands twisting together again. June knew that this was the crucial part. The moment everything changed.
"Once I got home," Diane said slowly, "I discovered Scarsdale’s blanket was still in the backseat. When I picked it up, a syringe fell out. The liquid was pink, and I recognized it immediately. Pentobarbital. For euthanasia."
Sheriff Gordon shifted slightly in his chair, the wood creaking. June gave him another barely-there shake of her head offering another silent plea. Not yet. Let her finish.
To his credit, he settled back, though his jaw tightened.
"I had no idea what to do," Diane continued, her voice rising with the remembered panic.
"I had technically stolen the syringe...
inadvertently, but nonetheless. I came inside to think.
What do I do? The clinic was already closed for the day.
I knew I couldn't just dispose of it without finding out the right way because of the nature of the drug. "
She looked at Sheriff Gordon, almost pleading for understanding. “I know now that sounds stupid. I could have called Carl, but I didn’t have his number. To call and ask someone for it would have raised questions. Now it might make sense, but that night, I was so afraid.”
He leaned forward and finally said, “I don’t understand why you were so afraid.”
Diane’s gaze shot to June’s, and she nodded.
June turned to the sheriff and said, “We learned earlier that Diane was once sentenced for embezzling years ago.” Before he could speak, she held up her hand. “She served her time and probation. She is a free citizen now, living in our town, and should be afforded the same rights as anyone else.”
“Of course,” he sputtered, still appearing frustrated that there was more he didn’t know.
“That’s why I was afraid,” Diane cried. “My mind was running rampant. I was… was… just stupidly confused about what to do with a controlled substance in my possession.”