On the way across the lot, a couple of church members greeted him, giving him that pitying look he was so familiar with. He said hello but didn’t stop to chat.
When Ms.Stapleton’s gaze fell on him, she pressed her lips together and, yep, peered at him over her readers. “Well, if it isn’t Sammy Ford. What brings you by the rummage sale? I haven’t seen you in church in months.”
“Hello, Ms.Stapleton. Good to see you.” That was pushing it. “This is Sadie. I guess you met her yesterday.”
“Hi!” Sadie’s hand wiggled a little wave. “How are you? Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
A frown creased the librarian’s brow. “Hello.” Her gaze swung back to Sam. “I suppose you’re here about that book? That ring? I told her I didn’t remember who donated it.”
“All due respect, Ms.Stapleton, but we both know no one flutters a page in your library without your knowledge.”
“Don’t you be smart with me, young man, or I’ll tell your mother. Now, do you want to buy some books and support this church, or are you just here to cause trouble?”
“I understand your reticence to disclose proprietary information to a stranger. But you’ve known me since I was toddling around the church halls. I figured you’d be more willing to help me find out who this ring belongs to.” He withdrew a twenty and tucked it in the donation jar.
She sniffed. Crossed her thick arms.
Should’ve gone with the fifty. “I’m not trying to cause trouble. I just want to know who donated that book. Listen, this is kind of a big deal, so if you could just give me a name, we’ll make sure the man gets his ring back.”
Ms.Stapleton tilted her head and skewered him with the look that sent lollygagging kids scuttling right back to Sunday school class.
Beside him Sadie fidgeted like a sugared-up kid. But to her credit, she kept her mouth shut.
The librarian was being just as stubborn as Sam had expected. Good thing he’d accounted for that. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out the paperback, and slapped it on the table.
The woman stared down at the book. Her mouth slackened. Then her attention snapped back to him.
“I found it while cleaning out some stuff.”
She picked up the old copy ofThe Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobeand smoothed the cover, caressing it the way she probably petted her three-legged cat.
“Shouldn’t be any late fees since I paid you for the book years ago.”
“That’s not the point,” she said, but she carefully tucked the book under the table. “I suppose you think you’re entitled to that name now.”
“I was hoping.” He’d been holding on to that book for years, and it pained him to let her have it. Clearly she wasn’t the only stubborn one around here.
Ms.Stapleton’s spine straightened, making her a full two inches taller. “Fine. It was Mary McAllister who turned it in.”
“Mary McAllister? What would she be doing with an engagement ring?”
“She’s Joe Graves’s daughter. He asked her to get rid of some of his late wife’s old things, and high time—she’s been gone a decade. That book came in the box she brought, and when I realized we already had three copies of it, I put it in the purge pile. A young woman, tourist by the look of her, bought the book on Wednesday. That’s all I know.”
Sam recalled some old gossip, bad blood between the widower and Ms.Stapleton. “Thanks for telling me. We’ll be sure he gets the ring back.”
“You’re not doing this woman any favors, sticking her with that ugly last name. But that’s not my problem. If you see your mama, tell her I said hello.”
He was officially off her naughty list. “Thank you again, Ms.Stapleton. Good luck with your sale.”
“Yes, good luck!” Sadie called as they stepped away. “It was nice seeing you again. Have a wonderful day. Thank you.” She waved.
“All right, all right,” he muttered.
“We got his name.” Leaning close, she squeezed his arm. “We got his name!”
He resisted the urge to flex his muscle as her light fragrance teased his nose. “A sixtysomething widower. Not what I expected.”
“Me either, but I’m so excited we found the owner. We’re about to make that poor man’s day. Do you know where he lives?”
