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Many companies fire someone who is caught stealing,
no matter how inexpensive the item. Do you agree with this
policy?
Yes, said Helen, in full Enron mode. Unless we hang
them, like they did in the good old days.
How long was this test? She glanced at Margery s
kitchen clock. She d been at it for almost an hour. Bristle
Head had not told her Triple D would take an hour of her
time. That was stealing, too.
Do you ever ask yourself why you are doing some-
thing? the voice asked, as if introspection led to nasty
nighttime habits.
Hell, yes, Helen said into the phone. I m asking why I
want to work at your store.
Helen, Margery said. You ve almost got this job.
Don t mess it up.
MURDER BETWEEN THE COVERS 235
The voice rolled on, relentless as a Panzer division: Re-
cently, bank robbers tossed thousands of dollars out of their
car during a police chase. The authorities never recovered
most of the stolen money. If you found a thousand dollars
of the bank s money blowing down the sidewalk, would
you consider keeping it?
Of course I would, you moron, Helen said to the
phone. I m making two hundred and one dollars a week.
Helen, don t do this, Margery said.
Helen ignored her and pressed yes.
The pitiless voice said, Why do some employees steal?
One, they re not good enough to earn a raise.
Two, they need extra money.
Three, Helen shouted. You forgot number three. You
drove me to it by suspecting the worst. I ve never
shoplifted a grape at the grocery store, but you ve made me
so angry I want to start slipping your CDs in my purse. I
want to hand your sound systems out the side door. I want
to take your cheap TVs off the loading dock. If I work for
you, I ll be a thief for sure.
Helen slammed down the phone.
Oh, well, Margery said, the uniforms look pretty stu-
pid.
Chapter 26
g
Gayle did not fire Helen.
Maybe the bookstore manager was forgiving. Maybe a
reliable employee was too valuable to fire in South Florida.
Or maybe Gayle and Astrid wanted to keep Helen where
they could watch her.
Helen had the awful feeling door number three was the
correct answer, and she didn t want to go there.
She tapped on the bookstore door at eight-fifty the morn-
ing after her Triple D encounter. Gayle unlocked it and
said, Helen, how are you feeling?
Helen had almost forgotten she d called in sick to go to
her aborted job interview.
Uh, fine, she managed. She stood there, waiting for
Gayle to tell her to clean out her locker.
I brought doughnuts, Gayle said. They re in the break
room. Help yourself, then I ll open your cash drawer.
Wasn t Gayle going to say anything about their Palm
Beach encounter? Like, How s your collar after I dragged
you out of the car? Or, Do your knees hurt from when
you landed on the ground?
Gayle acted as if it had never happened. Helen found that
MURDER BETWEEN THE COVERS 237
unnerving. But she kept her own silence. She did not tell
her colleagues about Gayle s affair with Astrid. That was
no one s business but theirs.
She got more silence from Brad. He didn t talk to Helen
for a full day. Then the little bookseller forgave Helen those
nosy questions, and told her the latest news about J.Lo.
Albert wasn t just silent he wasn t there. He called in
sick three days in a row. Helen hoped he was on job inter-
views.
Denny was quiet as death. He did not joke or do his
Sting imitations when he cleaned the café. Mr. Davies
death weighed heavily on the young bookseller. He came to
work on time. He had no choice if he didn t want to wind
up in a juvenile facility. But murder was more reality than
Denny wanted.
Mr. Davies death was ruled a homicide. Detective Gil
Gilbert told them the store s oldest inhabitant had been
smothered. Helen thought the hazel-eyed detective looked
rather like Gary Cooper in High Noon.
With our couch pillows? she said.
Afraid so, ma am, Gilbert said. Now he sounded like
him, too. His DNA was found on one.
How d it get there? Brad asked.
Er, fluids from his mouth and nose, Gilbert said tact-
fully.
Gross, man. Snot and slobber, Denny said tactlessly.
That creeped Helen out. She could not look at the com-
fortable old couch without a shudder. It had held a murder
weapon.
Poor Page Turners. The store had been designed as a
book lover s delight, but now its cozy nooks and crannies
were haunted by pedophiles and murderers, liars and riot-
ers.
Did he suffer? she asked the detective.
238 Elaine Viets
I don t think so, he said. He was a frail eighty-three,
and he may have been asleep at the time he was attacked.
Helen tried to take comfort in that.
Detective Gilbert questioned the bookstore staff again.
By the time he finished with her, Helen did not see any fur-
ther resemblance to Gary Cooper. She thought he looked
like the IRS agent who d audited her and Rob in 1988.
Helen had a question for him: Why isn t Detective Jax
here? Mr. Davies was murdered because he knew some-
thing about Page Turner s death.
The Page Turner case is closed. The killer has been ar-
rested.
Do you really believe that? Helen said.
Can you remember any other customers who were in
the store between ten a.m. and eleven-thirty p.m.?
You ve asked me that a dozen times. I ve given you
every name I can think of. I want to help, but I didn t see
anyone back there. And you didn t answer my question.
Helen was grateful the old book lover s murder did not
make the media. The store would be swamped with curious
crowds. Fortunately, in South Florida the death of an old
person was not news.
She wanted to go to his funeral, but Mr. Davies body
was being shipped home to New Jersey. There was no local
memorial service. His death left Helen feeling empty and
restless. She d find herself standing where his chair used to
be, staring out the window overlooking the parking lot,
wondering what he saw that fatal night.
Helen had to face another death. Page Turners was defi-
nitely closing. She heard it first. I guess we need new
couch pillows, Helen said, after Gilbert left. I don t think
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