Free Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) by Marjorie Thelen

boss
about your job. I’ll send him in.”
    Cody strode from the room in his western gear,
looking out of place in an Eastern establishment library. I sat in bemused
silence, calculating my next move. Jake had not phoned with this new twist in
the plot. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since the church parking lot. Why
hadn’t he phoned to tell me about the outcome of the will? Was he still on the
hook with Opal to find out who’d done Albert in? This was strange. I felt like
a mote floating in space. Now what to do? I poured myself another cup of tea.
When in doubt have tea to stimulate the brain cells. I sat there floating in
space, my mind wandering, when Hudson came trotting in.
    “Is there something I can get for you, Ms.
Marlowe? Have you finished tea?”
    I patted the seat next to me on the couch. “Hudson,
we need to talk.”
    He sat down on the edge of the cushion, hands
on knees, back straight. He wouldn’t meet my eye.
    “Congratulations. I understand you are the new
master of the house?”
    “In a manner of speaking, Miss
Marlowe.”
    He wasn’t acting like the new master. He didn’t
dress like the new master. But who was I to question if he was slow in
accepting the new role.
    Since no more details were forthcoming I said, “As
I’m a working girl, I need to know if you are going to pay me for what I have
already done in the library and if you are going to want me to finish.”
    He looked around the library which still retained
its old money grandeur. “I rather like it as it is.”
    There went that job. How annoying. I put on the-customer-is-always-right
smile. “I see. Shall I talk to Opal about the charges I’ve incurred so far or
will you be responsible?”
    “If you would be so good as to give me an
invoice, I will see it is paid.”
    “I see. If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll figure
out the costs I’ve incurred thus far.” I wondered how I might include my
sleuthing time. I was disappointed at the loss of my job. I was itching to get
my hands on those books and see what I could find. Hudson had moved to number
one suspect on the list.   Nice house he
inherited. Where was Jake Manyhorses when I needed him?
    Hudson left and I closed the door after him. I
eyed those books. I bet they numbered in the thousands. What did Jake think
could be hidden there that would shine light on Albert’s demise? Maybe it
wasn’t an issue anymore. Maybe that’s why Jake hadn’t called. Hudson was so
glaring a candidate that I decided it couldn’t be him. Too
obvious.
    I pulled out a book with the title The Last Western and started fanning
through it. Nothing but dusty pages. I looked behind
the book. Nothing but the back of the bookcase. I
pulled out a few more.   What if there was
a secret passage into the library, a hidden way a person could come and go
without being detected? Maybe the murderer sneaked into the room through the
secret passage and slipped the drug into Albert’s brandy.
    The romance of the thought carried me away and
I started pulling selected books out, looking for I didn’t know what, a
partition or crack or crevice that would indicate a door of some type. I pulled
out every fifth book in the interest of time. Albert had quite a range to his
library. He had the entire collected works of Tennessee Williams. Impressive. Then came a few rows of Russian
authors. I worked my way along, thinking what a shame I wasn’t going to
be able to order colored coordinated book spines in my color scheme. I made it
to the end of the row and stepped back to reconsider my strategy. It would help
if I knew what I was looking for. I stepped further back. If I was going to
hide something in books where would I do that? What would I be hiding for that
matter?
    A knock on the door interrupted my reverie. I
hurried to the desk, threw open my laptop and sat down. “Yes?” I called,
hurrying to power up and pull up the numbers for the library job.
    Opal stuck her head in the door. “Hello,