Chafer - Jeopardy in January

JEOPARDY IN JANUARY

ACalendar Mystery

CAMILLACHAFER

Jeopardy inJanuary

Copyright: Camilla Chafer

Published: January 2018

ISBN:978-1-909577-16-9

The rightof Camilla Chafer to be identified as author of this Work has beenasserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of theCopyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Allrights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means,electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwisetransmitted without written permission from the publisher. You mustnot circulate this book in any format.

Visit the author online at www.camillachafer.com tosign up to her mailing list and for more information on othertitles.

Contents

Jeopardy in January

SaraCutler loves her job as head librarian of the public library, anintegral part of the historic heart of the picturesque mountaintown, Calendar. The combination of old books, quirky clientele, andendless reading is nothing less than perfection for Sara. So whenshe discovers a body in the rare books section that threatens todestroy her quiet existence, along with the imminent demise of thelibrary, Sara vows to find the killer.

Shenever expects to receive any help from Jason Rees, the handsome,big city developer whose only objective is to get rid of thelibrary. Sara assumes he is counting on the murder to serve as thefinal death knell his firm needs to demolish the library. However,that doesnt prevent him from falling head over heels for the verywoman with whom hes clashing.

Whennews arrives that the dead woman was nothing that she appeared tobe, the whole town is instantly enthralled by the concept of havingan actual jewel thief in their midst. Even more puzzling is: wheredid she hide her stolen treasure?

All Saramust do to save the library is simply solve the murder, find thehidden jewels, and convince herself not to succumb to the one manshe would rather see run out town. It doesnt take long before sherealizes that amateur sleuthing isnt as easy in real life as it isin the stories she loves to read.

Chapter One

"I'mgoing to save this library if it's the last thing I do!" Ideclared, raising my fist emphatically in the air. I looked aroundat the empty library. Unfortunately, my rallying cry wasn't exactlydrawing in the troops, unless the troops consisted of me and mycolleague, Bree Shaw.

"Okay,but are you going to save it while wearing the Supergirl outfit? Ordo you plan to go home and change first?" asked Bree. She wrinkledher nose as she looked up at me and shook her head.

Lookingdown at the shiny blue leotard, red mini skirt and long, red bootsedged in gold, I winced. I knew I looked ridiculous. Standing on achair, my fist stretched to the ceiling, I continued trying torally Bree at the end of a very long day. It was a special day forCalendar Middle School: a visit from the Superheroes-in-Fictionday. I insisted we both dress the part and instantly regretted it.January weather wasn't suited to shiny Spandex.

With along sigh, I lowered my fist as I climbed down. "I think I mightchange first," I said, trying to ignore Bree's stifled laughter."But I definitely intend to come up with a successful plan. Thetown needs this library. We can't let them take itaway!"

"They aren't exactly taking it away," Bree pointed out. Withher hand on the chair I was stepping down from, she waited untilboth of my feet were on the ground before tucking it under theantique desk that served as the hub of the library. The desk hadprobably been there as long as the library. It may even have beenolder and I loved it. The intricately carved legs and old runnersthat held two very deep drawers, along with the lightly scratchedcherrywood top that saw countless books pass over it during thedecades of service, had become a fixture. It even had myname, Sara Cutler , proudly printed on a metal strip above my job title: Librarian. I didn't lovethe desk quite as much as I loved the library because the oldbuilding was something else indeed.

One ofthe first buildings to be established in Calendar, the library hadan interesting and unique history. Beautifully built, it had twofloors, and still retained the original, carved double doors. Abovethe entry was a circular window that beamed in light through thestained-glass depiction of a book held by childlike hands. Insidewas the most stunning, wrought iron spiral staircase. I oncebravely mounted the banister and slid all the way down. The wallsheld shelf after shelf of old and new books, with dozens offreestanding racks in between. It was literally stuffed with alarge variety of reading material.

Upstairswas reserved for the non-fiction and a small rare books section,many tomes bequeathed from local residents for the pleasure of newgenerations. Downstairs belonged to the fiction, and a large squarewas separated by a partition and dedicated purely to children'sbooks. The children's section was peppered with low tables andlittle, wooden chairs, as well as a stack of soft, colorful,seating mats, their covers crocheted by the Calendar CraftClub.

Thelibrary was as beautiful inside as it was outside. Set onto a largecorner plot, it boasted a large, rambling garden. Over the years,it had become a favorite spot for teddy bear picnics and summerbook clubs.

Unfortunately, the size of the plot was now part of thecurrent problem. It cost a large percentage of the library's smallfunds to maintain the garden as well as the building, and it wasalso a very attractive lot to outside investors. Several buildingdevelopment offers had been previously knocked back by the towncouncil... until now.

"I knowthey want to move it but they... they simply can't!" I splutteredloudly. I tried to imagine the library being bulldozed and replacedwith a cul-de-sac of cookie cutter homes. "Everyone loves thelibrary!"

"Don'tlook now, but that guy doesn't," said Bree. She gave a small nod ofher head toward the front doors. "I better check the children'ssection," she added as she moved away quickly.

I notedthe draft when the doors opened but ignored it. Now I saw they wereclosed again to the cold, snowy weather and my stomach dropped. Theman in front of the doors had a sprinkle of snow on his short brownhair and expensive wool coat with the collar turned up. Hedefinitely didn't endorse my desire to save the library. No, JasonRees wanted to relocate all of the books into a faceless,character-less building on the other side of town, and knock downthe library, so he could build a tract of non-descript homes on theprime real estate.

Iwatched him open the door again before he shook his umbrellaoutside. When he closed it, I saw him press it firmly as if he'donly just noticed the doors tendency to stick in the coldermonths. Looking around as if he were visiting for the first time,he left the umbrella in the antique stand by the door. I had nodoubt that he already knew where the stand was and had come heremerely to assess the area.

If heactually came here for that, it probably meant he was also checkingto see if I were working.

Icouldn't blame him. After all, Jason Rees and I didn't get off tothe best start when he arrived two weeks ago. He glibly informed methe library was closing before my boss even had a chance to tellme. My cheeks still burned every time I recalled my reaction. Itold him to get out while yelling at him loudly, and then I calledmy boss. She listened to my complaint about the city upstartbefore she confirmed the news. It turned out to be the worst day ofmy career! The past two weeks only continued to become difficult.Jason stopped by several times, either with architects or theforeman, or to deliver more unpleasant news. I couldn't fault himfor his good manners, and effortless charm, but the nicer he got,the more irked I became.