“I’m sure he didn’t. He might just have been holding the book…for something to set the little gold casket on,” Avery suggested.
“No…I don’t think so. I think that maybe… Okay, he knew or suspected that someone out there knew he had two of the reliquaries—the real one, which he had discovered held the diamond, and the fake one, the one he was holding. Or, he hoped that the thief didn’t know that he had two of them, and he planned on handing over the one. The fake one, the one that he was holding. He had the shotgun, but…oh, I don’t know, I give up! If he was being threatened, why didn’t he call the police?”
“Because,” Avery said thoughtfully, “whoever it was came and slipped in through a window and was using…trickery to scare him. And he couldn’t call the police and tell them that he had shadows in the house. He was getting older. Maybe he was afraid he was getting dementia. Maybe he didn’t trust the police.”
“I wish I’d been here,” Kelsey said softly.
She carefully turned a page and was startled to see that there was a note folded into the book. She pulled out the note, opened it and saw Cutter’s large, perfect cursive handwriting.
She read aloud.
“Note: Read from description of Pete Edwards that he practiced black magic at night on the beach. A black candle carried, and an incantation to Satan to show him the Southern ships in the darkness so he could sound the blockade alarm. Many of his neighbors despised him, but they feared him, as well. Most probably, he found the ships by seeing the dimmed lights in the darkness of the beach. Those around him might well have believed that he was in league with the devil and that his hatred of the Southern cause was so great, he was willing to make any sacrifice. Some say that on the night the ship Southern Comfort was captured by Union ships, Pete reported the ship, having discovered it on the horizon by Satanic rite and then sacrificed a goat. The ship’s captain, Ethan Rutger, suffered a heart attack during the capture, and it was said that Pete’s rite brought about the heart attack, the man’s death and, consequently, the capture of the ship.”
“Ugh. Cree—eepy!” Avery announced.
“Cutter was just making a note on what he had read,” Kelsey said. “He must have been at the library. He must have read from that book Liam was talking about.”
“Certainly sounds like it,” Avery agreed.
She began searching through the book for more notes. Two chapters in, she found another one.
Avery was gently wiping dust from a little porcelain cat, and she frowned and found herself reading in silence.
Morning, June 10. I asked Marabella if she had moved anything in my office. She had not. I believe her, and trust her; she is the kindest woman, and the only housekeeper for me. She understands that I must have a clean kitchen, clean sheets…bathroom, and the rest does not matter. I know she did not move the book. I do not believe in demonic forces, though I believe there is a devil, Satan, if you will, and he lives in the hearts of many a man. There is not a ritual that awakens evil; there is a man’s belief that he can harness it, and in his own belief is his power. I can’t ask Marabella to stay any longer. Someone comes here, and I have not fathomed the method. There is only one thing he might be thinking. The reliquary. I should have gotten rid of it the moment it came into my possession; the money might have gone to so many causes. I waited just seconds too long, and the fact of what I had was known. Too quickly, my precious daughter was gone, and I will live the rest of my life seeking her killer.
Dumbstruck, Kelsey stared at the page.
She started turning pages again, one by one, seeking more notes. Finally, she came across another.
Kelsey will find the truth. I dare not write it anywhere. I wait, because I believe the thief is out there. I wait forever.
He killed my daughter.
It was extremely quiet when Liam arrived at the library. A different librarian, Matilda Osbury, was working, but he knew her as well.
Matilda was in her late fifties. She was slim and nervous and always reminded Liam of a Saluki dog. She was a retired schoolteacher, and he’d been her student in first grade.
“Liam, hello, young man,” she told him, looking up when he came to her at the desk. “I hear we’re seeing a lot of you these days. Oh, such bad business going on lately. But it’s lovely to have so many of our dear friends back. Your cousin, David, living here again! And all that horrible tragedy regarding his old girlfriend cleared up. And Sean O’Hara back as well, and now Kelsey Donovan.” She spoke quickly, as if it were important she say everything without taking up too much of anyone’s time. “Oh, but now a murder—that guitarist fellow—out at the Merlin place. Such a shame. Who would murder the poor dear man? He wasn’t brilliant, but he hurt no one. He was a pleasant enough young fellow, indeed, that he was. He loved his guitar.”