Valentine Murder Read Online Free

Lucy looked around. “So where does the board meet?” she asked.
    â€œWe’ve always used the reference room, but I expect that will change now that we have that conference room. Why they put it in the cellar is something I’ll never understand. Cellars are for storage—they’re not fit for human habitation.”
    â€œIs that where everyone is?” asked Lucy, smiling at Miss Tilley’s stubborn resistance to change.
    â€œNot yet. I think they’re still in Bitsy’s office,” said Miss Tilley, taking a pile of books that a young mother was returning. “That will be seventy-five cents,” she said, sounding awfully pleased to have caught the overdue books.
    Lucy went around the desk and down the dark little hallway leading to Bitsy’s ofice. She smoothed her sweater nervously and took a deep breath, then pushed open the door.
    â€œIf it isn’t our newest member,” exclaimed Gerald Asquith, greeting her warmly. “Welcome! Everybody—this is Lucy Stone, who’s made quite a little reputation for herself as a writer for our local newspaper, The Pennysaver. ”
    â€œA very little reputation,” said Lucy, blushing. She enjoyed freelance writing for the paper, but was rarely able to manage more than one or two feature stories a month.
    â€œI’m Ed Bumpus,” said Ed, leaning forward in his chair to shake her hand. “I know your husband, Bill. We’re in the same business.”
    â€œI’ve heard him speak of you,” said Lucy, giving him a friendly smile. She looked around at the others, searching for familiar faces. “I know Corney, of course, but you probably don’t remember me. I’ve attended some of your workshops. I enjoyed them very much.”
    Lucy extended her hand but Corney ignored it, merely nodding vacantly and murmuring, “Oh, yes.”
    â€œHayden Northcross, here,” said Hayden, promptly filling the void and taking Lucy’s hand with both of his. “I must say it’s nice to have some new blood on the board.”
    â€œI guess we’re all here then, except for Chuck,” said Ed. Lucy couldn’t decide if he was grumbling, or if his voice always sounded that gruff.
    â€œYou know he tends to run late,” said Corney, leaping to the absent member’s defense. “After all, he’s a lawyer. He’ll be here.”
    â€œIt’s well after eleven—shall we go down?” suggested Gerald.
    There was a murmur of assent, and the directors began moving toward the door.
    â€œYou know, Bitsy seems to have less and less control over those children every week,” said Corney, hearing the noise from the children’s room.
    â€œShe’s not there,” said Lucy, observing the group of lively pre-schoolers and a handful of chatting mothers. “Where could she be?”
    â€œI think she said she was going down to the workroom,” offered Gerald.
    â€œMaybe she’s lost track of the time. I’ll run ahead and remind her,” volunteered Lucy, eager to be helpful.
    â€œYoung legs,” said Gerald, nodding approvingly as Lucy headed in the direction of the stairway.
    â€œI’ll see if Miss Tilley’s free,” said Corney, as if to remind everyone that she used to be the youngest person on the board and, even though she now had to share that distinction, was still no older than Lucy.
    Corney was just approaching the circulation desk when Chuck Canaday made his appearance, bursting through the doors with his unbuttoned coat flapping about him, bringing a wave of cold air.
    â€œOoh—it’s cold out there,” said Corney, wrapping her arms across her chest and greeting him with a smile.
    â€œIt’s invigorating,” said Chuck, giving his thick mop of gray hair a shake. “Makes me wish I had more time for skiing.”
    â€œMe, too,” agreed Corney. “I had a great time at Brewster