Free The Murder Pit by Jeff Shelby Page B

or mention her. And since she seemed to understand that we’d only gone out once, I didn’t know what she thought he might’ve said to me about her in the couple of hours we were together.
    “No.” I shook my head. “We didn’t really talk about his divorce. Or mine.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “So not a word?” she asked. She chuckled. “Well, that would’ve been a first. Maybe you don’t remember.”
    I straightened a little. “No, I’m pretty sure I remember. We specifically didn’t talk about our divorces. It didn’t seem appropriate. For either of us.”
    She clicked her tongue. “That’s so very strange I mean, he never went anywhere without talking about me. I mean, us.”
    I stared at her. I could think of a number of things that were even stranger than her ex-husband not discussing her during a date. Stalking me at the library ranked right up there.
    “It seems coincidental running into you here,” I said slowly. “Considering we’ve never run into each other anywhere else in town before.”
    She blinked rapidly. “What’s that?”
    “I said it’s coincidental running into you here,” I repeated. “Since we’ve never met before. Just seems…very coincidental.”
    “Oh, right,” she said, nodding. “Yes. It is. But I…I work here.”
    Guilt and embarrassment flooded me. “You do?”
    She nodded. “Part time. I help shelve the books.” She smiled. “And I should probably get back to that. It was a pleasure meeting you. We’ll have to talk again sometime.”
    She hustled off and disappeared into the maze of aisles.
    I stood there for a moment, replaying the entire conversation in my head. Helen was…odd. But maybe she was just out of sorts because her ex-husband was dead. I had no emotional connection to Thornton anymore, but it would still be strange to hear about his death. I wished I’d thought to ask her about Olaf’s sister and see if she thought there was anything strange going on there. Of course, she hadn’t really given me the opportunity to say very much.
    I returned to the new release section and picked up a book, trying to clear my head. I flipped to the the first page and, satisfied that it had the potential to hold my interest, tucked it under my arm and headed back to the children’s section.
    Grace and Sophie were stationed at a low round table, stacks of books piled haphazardly around them.
    “I thought we said five books each,” I said.
    They looked up from their books and exchanged guilty looks.
    “We forgot,” Grace said.
    “You’re going to read all of these?”
    They nodded their heads vigorously and I just shook my head and smiled. There were going to be bigger battles on the parenting road than limiting the number of books they checked out.
    Will joined us a few minutes later, a sports almanac in one hand and a book about weather phenomena in the other. We went to the checkout station and each of them took their turn, first scanning their cards and then lining the books’ barcodes under the red laser.
    They gathered up their hauls and I told them to head to the car. Will opened his mouth to ask why but I shoved the car keys in his hand and  him permission to start it. His eyes widened with excitement and he marched to the door, the girls trailing behind him, both clamoring for a turn to hit the clicker and unlock the doors. I figured it would be a miracle if the car was still there when I walked out.
    I went to the front desk and waited for the white-haired woman seated behind it to look up from her computer screen.
    She peered at me from behind reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “Are the machines not working?”
    “What?”
    She pointed with a pencil. “The self-checkout machines. I know how much your kids love them.”
    Excellent. We had a reputation.
    “No, no,” I said. “They were fine. We got everything we needed.”
    “Oh, good,” she said, nodding. “It’s a pleasure to see those kids leave with so many