Stolen secrets
Detective Donna Brady often volunteered at the Clark Retirement Home, organizing the social activities and family visitations. So when Millie Palmer called asking her for help, she assumed it was about the karaoke party that had been scheduled for that evening.
But the minute Detective Brady arrived, Millie stopped her at the front entrance, her eyes full of panic she was trying hard to mask.
“There’s been a serious crime,” Millie said, clutching Donna’s arm. “My journal has been stolen!”
Millie hurriedly led the detective to the library room and pointed to the yellow rocking chair near the window.
“Every morning, I sit right here in this chair and write chapters for my new novel from nine until eleven. Then I hide the journal under the mattress in my bedroom. But my journal isn’t there. I must have left it in the library this morning.”
“Who do you think would want to steal your diary?” Donna asked.
“Pretty much anyone here,” Millie said. “You see, everyone knows I have a book deal…it’s a thriller and they’re all curious about who I’m going to include from our community as characters in the story. Plus, I’m sure they’d all love the reward money I’ll be offering for it if we can’t recover it.”
Her face paled as she continued. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without my notes. My plotlines were all figured out; my editor is going to be furious if I don’t meet my deadline. It had to be either Warren or Lyla. They were the only ones in the library before they announced lunch.”
Detective Brady noticed a water ring from a coffee mug on the wooden desk and made a note of it.
Millie lowered her voice. “Warren is angry because my short story won first place in the Clark Newsletter creative writing contest last month. His villanelle poem came in second. And Lyla, well, she’s jealous because her new boyfriend, Paul, often joins me at lunch and asks me for writing advice. Is it my fault I’ve been doing this for a lifetime and I’m darn good at it too?”
Detective Brady found Warren on the porch reading a literary magazine and sipping tea. She asked if he had seen Millie’s journal.
“I did not see nor steal Millie’s writings,” Warren said indignantly. “I’m a retired English professor, Detective. I do not cater to so-called ‘popular’ fiction, nor do I care for her particular brand of… thriller fiction.”
“You were in the library this morning though, correct?”
“I was,” he admitted. “Having my morning tea. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine on these cool fall mornings.”
In the hallway, the detective spotted Lyla wearing a tennis dress and sweater.
“Oh, everyone’s talking about Millie’s missing journal,” Lyla said. “I certainly did not take it. Millie, like her writing, can be overly dramatic.”
“Did you go into the library this morning?”
Lyla shook her head. “I played tennis all morning and then took a quick shower before lunch. I went into the library this afternoon while Carl was playing the piano in the lobby. I like to read the paper while listening to him. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Millie stole the journal herself. It’d be just like her to create a whodunit just so she could write about it!”
Detective Brady pondered the information and returned to the library for another review of the scene. She noticed the water stain had been cleaned from the desk.
She also confirmed with Carl that he had played his usual morning piano set, which other residents confirmed. When she took a final look around, she realized one of the suspects was lying.