Reading Up a Storm by Eva Gates Page A

Louise Jane as well as several members of our library board here.
    â€œOh, good.” Diane Uppiton, board member, turned away from Bertie when she saw me. “Now we can find out what’s going on. Have they made an arrest?”
    â€œI hope so. We have to move into damage control immediately,” said Curtis Gardner, another board member. Unlike what one might reasonably expect, not all the members of the board are enthusiastic supporters ofthe library. Diane’s goal in life was to see us closed down, and Curtis’s goal in life was to keep Diane happy and thus continuing to fund his taste for fast cars and quality bourbon. I hadn’t seen his Corvette outside, so he must have come with Diane. Diane was the widow of Jonathan Uppiton, late chair of the board. Fortunately for Diane, at the time of Jonathan’s death the couple were separated, very acrimoniously, but not yet divorced. Jonathan hadn’t changed his will, so Diane inherited everything.
    Everything, unfortunately for us, except his deep love of the Bodie Island Lighthouse Library.
    â€œDamage control?” Bertie said. “Don’t be melodramatic, Curtis. I told you, over and over, this has nothing to do with the library. Now, if you’ll excuse us, some of us have work to do.”
    â€œIt may seem to have nothing to do with the library,” Louise Jane said, “but the spirits can wander, you know. Those Civil War soldiers that protect the lighthouse would have no trouble going out into the marsh. Would they, Lucy?”
    â€œWhy are you asking me?” I said.
    â€œYou’re the one who lives here.”
    â€œEnough,” Bertie said. “Lucy, run upstairs and get changed out of your hiking clothes. Charlene, watch the desk until Lucy gets back. I will be in my office if anyone needs me. On
library
business.” She turned and walked away.
    â€œSee you later, Louise Jane,” Charlene said.
    Louise Jane harrumphed. She didn’t care to be reminded that she didn’t actually work here. Diane and Curtis headed for the exit, and Louise Jane suddenly perked up. “Have you a moment, Diane? I’ve got somegreat ideas for my Halloween exhibit. Mrs. Fitzgerald thinks they’re great, but I want to be sure they meet with your approval.”
    â€œI don’t . . .” Diane began. Diane had not the slightest interest in the running of the library.
    â€œI’d suggest we pull up a couple of chairs, but we don’t seem to be wanted here. Why don’t we go into town and grab a coffee?”
    Diane did, however, have an interest in impressing on us all her importance. “Yes, that’s an excellent idea. We can let these people . . . uh . . . work.” The corner of her lip turned up at the very idea.
    I ran upstairs to my apartment. Before I jumped in the shower, I made a phone call. “Hi, Stephanie, it’s Lucy. Did you or Pat hear from Bertie today?”
    â€œShe came around to the house, earlier, to tell us that Will Williamson was found dead this morning. Mom’s pretty upset about it.”
    â€œHow do you feel?”
    â€œMe? I simply don’t know, Lucy. I should hate the man for the way he treated Mom, for not caring about me. I wish I’d had the chance to tell him what I thought about him. But on the other hand, I can’t help thinking that I’ve lost my father. I’m sad. And I’m surprised that I’m sad. Does that make any sense?”
    â€œIt makes perfect sense. I can’t talk for long. I’m late for work as it is. Do you want to have dinner tonight or something?”
    â€œI’m okay, Lucy, but thanks for asking. Mom and I are going to stay in tonight. Another time, maybe.”
    â€œYou take care,” I said.
    â€œI will.”
    *   *   *
    The morning was busy. Something about police activity and folks needing an excuse to find out what was going on, so