Paws and Effect Page 3

  I glanced at him again and smiled. “He’s a good cook.”

  John almost choked on his coffee. “You’re serious? He cooks?”

  I nodded.

  Dani turned and glared. “Be nice,” she said.

  He just laughed.

  “I didn’t exactly volunteer,” Marcus said. “I was the only one up.”

  He looked over at John, who immediately shook his head and turned to look at me. “For the record, Kathleen, I do not snore and I did not drive him out of our tent.”

  “Duly noted,” I said.

  “Dr. Hemmings gave me a bag of oatmeal and a pot,” Marcus said. “She told me to make breakfast for my group.”

  “And you what? Burned the oatmeal?”

  John was laughing now. Dani’s smile still seemed forced.

  “You’re a librarian, Kathleen,” Travis said. His voice was still laced with a touch of sarcasm. “You probably know the story of Medusa.”

  I had no idea what a character from Greek mythology had to do with Marcus making oatmeal but I nodded. “Medusa was a Gorgon. According to the legend, the sight of her face was so terrible it would turn anyone who looked at her to stone.”

  Travis’s gaze slid from Marcus to me. “Yeah, well that’s pretty much what Marcus did to our breakfast.”

  “It wasn’t quite like that, Kathleen,” Dani said. She wore a silver double-infinity-knot ring on the middle finger of her left hand and she twisted it around and around on the finger.

  “It was pretty much exactly like that,” John retorted.

  “My mother always made oatmeal with milk,” Marcus said.

  “Something you need to know about John is that he always has a few essential supplies when he’s out in the field,” Dani said. She looked past me, at Marcus, giving him a genuine smile of affection. “Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Pop-Tarts, coffee, powdered milk.” She put extra emphasis on the last two words.

  “I’m starting to think I know where this is going,” I said. “You thought you’d use the powdered milk.”

  Marcus nodded.

  I turned back to Dani. “But?”

  “John also had a bag of plaster of Paris in his backpack.”

  “No,” I said.

  John’s head was bobbing up and down. “Yes.”

  “You could have put a label on the bag.” Marcus leaned forward to look at John.

  “Hey, plaster of Paris and powdered milk don’t exactly look that much alike.” John was laughing.

  “They do at five in the morning when you’re sleep-deprived.”

  I leaned against Marcus for a moment, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt. “So what happened to the oatmeal?”

  Travis spoke up before anyone could answer. “You know how people say stuff like that is good for you because it sticks with you?”

  “I do,” I said.

  “Lucky for Marcus that oatmeal stuck with the pot so nobody actually ate it.”

  John turned to look at him, waving one hand in the air. “No, that’s not true. We actually managed to get it out of the pot. It was like a big cylindrical boulder. We just rolled it into the trees. I think Dr. Hemmings made one of her grad students carry it back to campus so she could use it as a doorstop. She thought it was some kind of unusual rock formation.”

  “Okay, I know you’re making that up,” I said, shaking with laughter.

  John put a hand over his heart. “Sadly, I’m not.”

  “So what did you all do for breakfast?”

  “Marcus hiked out to the road, thumbed a ride to McDonald’s and came back with Egg McMuffins for everyone.” Dani smiled at him again.

  “Pretty much saved the day,” Travis said, an edge of sarcasm in his voice.

  “Wait a minute.” I gestured at Dani. “You said John had Pop-Tarts in his backpack. Why didn’t you eat those?”

  John raised a hand skyward as though he were in a classroom. “I know this,” he said. “Pick me! Pick me.”

  Dani rolled her eyes at him. She didn’t seem as tense now.

  “Go ahead,” I said to John.

  “When Chef Marcus here was foraging for powdered milk he left my backpack outside the tent and a raccoon took the Pop-Tarts, the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and two pairs of my socks.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Marcus said with a smile.

  I smiled. “And for the record, Marcus is a vey good cook now.”

  “Back then the problem wasn’t a lack of cooking skills,” Travis said. “It was taking something you had no business putting your hands on.”

  The table grew silent. John exhaled and shook his head, muttering something I didn’t catch. Dani closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her hand. Marcus went into police officer mode. He set his cup and then his napkin on the table with precise, economical movements. Then he turned his attention to Travis. “This isn’t the time or the place for whatever problem you have with me.”

  “Trav, don’t do this,” John said. He stood up. “We should get going.”

  “I’m just sharing stories with Marcus’s girlfriend about the good old days,” Travis said. He was talking to John, but his eyes never left Marcus’s face.

  This was where my mother would say, “Fish or cut bait.” Actually, she’d probably use a more colorful expression that involved getting off a pot but the sentiment was the same.

  “It was good to meet all of you,” I said. “But I have to get going as well.” I stood up and reached down to rest my hand on Marcus’s shoulder. I was just like Owen with his paw on a kitty treat: I was marking my territory.

  “I see the women in your life still rush to your defense,” Travis commented, one hand playing with his coffee cup. The snarky edge to his voice was more pronounced.

  Marcus pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Eric over at the counter watching us. I knew all I had to do was raise a hand and he’d be at the table.

  “Is this where I’m supposed to go all caveman and take a swing at you?” Marcus asked.

  “C’mon, Trav, don’t be a tool,” John said to his friend.

  Travis got up as well. “Did you tell Kathleen how you stabbed your best friend in the back?” Feet apart, shoulders squared, I could see confrontation in his body language as well as his words. He was a big man and his anger made him look even bigger

  “Don’t do this,” Dani said.

  “Defend him the way you always do.” Sarcasm dripped off of Travis’s words.

  What could have happened that he felt so wronged after so many years? I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  Dani sighed and pushed a stray strand of hair back off her face. She looked tired all of a sudden. “Fine, then,” she said. “Kathleen, Travis and I were a couple in college, until Marcus and I met.” She swallowed hard. “And we started seeing each other . . . behind Travis’s back.”

  My first thought was why hadn’t she just broken up with Travis if she wanted to date Marcus, but I hadn’t always made good decisions when I was in college, so who was I to judge? “We do dumb things when we’re in college,” I said. “I know I did things I’m sorry for now.”

  I looked at Travis. He hadn’t made a very good first impression, but I couldn’t help feeling sad that he hadn’t been able to let go of something that had happened so many years ago. He seemed to be wearing his hurt like a hair shirt. Why on earth was he still working with Dani?

  Travis’s dark eyes flashed. “First of all, we were more than a couple. We were engaged. And second, I caught them together in—what’s the polite term? A compromising situation? It was more than a dumb thing, Kathleen.”

  His words hit Dani like a slap. Her face reddened and she bit her lip.

  I could feel the tension vibrating in Marcus like a plucked violin
string. “Leave,” he growled, his voice low and harsh with warning. “Stay away from Dani. Stay away from Kathleen and stay the hell away from me. If you think my badge means I won’t defend the people I care about you’re very, very wrong.”

  John grabbed Travis’s arm. “Let’s go, man,” he said.

  Travis glared at Marcus, who met his gaze seemingly calmly. I think only I could feel the hum of anger his body was giving off.

  John caught the neck of Travis’s shirt with his free hand and pulled. “We’re going. Now!” he said, sharply.

  Marcus’s jaw was tight with tension. I knew he was grinding his teeth together and I was impressed with his restraint.

  Travis shook off John’s hands, shoved his chair out of the way and headed for the door.

  John closed his eyes for a moment and blew out a noisy breath. When he opened them again he looked at us and gestured in the direction of the door. “I should go . . . check on him.” He shrugged and gave me a wry smile. “Kathleen, it really was good to meet you. I’m sorry about . . .” He made a helpless gesture in the air. “ . . . everything.” He reached for his wallet but Marcus shook his head silently.

  John rested his hand on Dani’s shoulder for a moment. She seemed to shrink inside herself as though she were cringing with embarrassment.

  Dani said nothing until the door closed behind John. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s not your fault.” I said. “I’m sorry that Travis got hurt and I can see you both are, too.”

  “You probably think I’m a—”

  I shook my head. “I think I’m glad I got to meet you, Dani. And I hope I’ll see you again while you’re in town.”

  She nodded, swatting at a stray strand of hair. “Thank you, Kathleen. I’m very glad I got to meet you. And I’m glad Marcus has you.”

  “I’ll get this,” I said to Marcus, gesturing at the table. “Stay here with Dani. I’m going to head over to the library.”

  He hesitated for a moment and then leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  I headed over to the counter. Eric held up his largest take-out coffee cup and raised an eyebrow.

  “Please,” I said.

  “Everything okay?” he asked quietly as he picked up the coffeepot.

  I glanced back at Marcus and Dani. He was sitting down facing her, elbows resting on his thighs, hands with fingers interlaced hanging between his knees. Dani was listening as he talked, still twisting her ring around her finger.

  “I uh . . . I think so,” I said.

  Eric handed me my coffee and the bill. I glanced at it and pulled enough money out of my wallet to cover the total plus a tip.

  “Guy’s crazy about you, you know.” Eric inclined his head in Marcus’s direction.

  I gave him a smile. “Thanks, Eric,” I said. “Have a good day.”

  When I stepped outside John was alone on the sidewalk.

  “Hi, Kathleen,” he said, giving me a wry smile. “My plans for the day have changed. Any chance I could get a look at your herbarium? Or have you had enough of us?”

  I gave him a smile that was probably more professional than friendly. “I was going to walk over to the library. Would you like to come with me right now?”

  He looked back at the café. “Yeah, why not?”

  We started down the sidewalk. I took a sip of my coffee. John looked out toward the water. The sky was a deep, seemingly endless shade of blue. “This is a nice place,” he said.

  I nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  We walked a bit farther in uncomfortable silence and then John stopped. He turned to face me. “Does this feel as awkward to you as it does to me?”

  I nodded and took another sip from my cup.

  “Look, I’m sorry about Travis,” he said. “This whole thing with Marcus and Dani happened a long time ago and ended pretty quickly.” He gave an offhanded shrug. “And it’s not like they were going to do the whole happily-ever-after thing anyway. It’s just . . . I think working together for the past few weeks brought up some old feelings for him. Dani made it pretty clear she wasn’t interested and I think seeing Marcus, well, it was just easier to blame him than face the fact that it was never going to happen with Dani.”

  “So they don’t work together all the time?” I said.

  John shook his head. “No. The engineer who was working with us on this project dislocated his shoulder and broke his arm rock climbing. Travis came on board at the last minute.” He held out both hands. “And now I’m going to change the subject. How did you end up in Minnesota? Was it the librarian’s equivalent of running off to join the circus?”

  I laughed. “I wanted to do something different. The library board was looking for someone to supervise renovations to the building.” I held up my cup. “And here I am.”

  “How the heck did you end up with an herbarium? I don’t think I’ve ever come across one in a library before.” We started walking again.

  “That happened before I got here. It’s a small town. We have a lot of things people don’t expect to find in a library—a collection of documents with the history of this area, high school yearbooks going back almost a hundred years.” We stopped at the corner to let two cars go by before we crossed the street.

  “Basically we inherited the herbarium when the government plant research station consolidated all its work in St. Paul.”

  John made a face. “I’ve already been through the endangered species database. I’m hoping there might be something in the herbarium records, some rare plant we didn’t know was native to this area. Plants don’t always follow the rules about where they grow.” He held out both hands and shrugged. “It’s a long shot.”

  It occurred to me then that maybe it would help John if he talked to Rebecca. “I have a friend who’s been making herbal remedies all her life,” I said as we approached the library. “She knows a lot about the plants that grow in this area. I could call her and see if she has any suggestions, I mean, if you think it would help.”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” he said. “Thanks. If we’re going to stop this project or at least get the proposal modified we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “So all three of you work for the same environmental group?” I asked.

  John shook his head. “Dani and I do. Not Travis. There are four different groups working together right now. They’re all opposed to the resort proposal. It just made more sense for us to pool our resources.” He stopped in front of the old brick building. “This is your library?”

  I nodded.

  “Very nice,” he said approvingly. “How old is the building?”

  “Over a hundred years.” I led the way up the steps. I noticed John eye the wrought-iron railings and the heavy wooden doors.

  Mary Lowe was at the circulation desk when we stepped inside. “Good morning, Kathleen,” she said. “You’re early.”

  “A little,” I said. “Is Abigail around?”

  Mary tipped her head in the direction of the stacks. “She’s shelving in the children’s section.” She looked past me and gave her best grandmotherly smile to John. “Welcome to the Mayville Heights Free Public Library.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “It’s a beautiful building.”

  Mary beamed. “We think so.”

  I touched John’s arm. “I’ll introduce you to Abigail Pierce. She can get you set up.”

  We found Abigail arranging picture books on a low shelf, forehead furrowed in concentration. Abigail was also a children’s author and I was hearing lots of great buzz about the new book she had coming out in early winter, just a couple of months away.

  She straightened up and smiled when she caught sight of us. I made the introductions and explained wha
t John was looking for.

  “I can get you set up in our small meeting room,” Abigail said. A pensive look crossed her face and she tucked a strand of hair absently behind one ear. She looked so different without her long braid. “We also have some sketchbooks that might be helpful. One of the botanists who worked at the research station was also an artist. He drew some of the plants he saw and there are maps and notes as well.”

  John pulled a hand back over his neck. “That sounds terrific but I think I’m going to need an extra set of hands to go through all that.”

  “I think I can get those for you,” I said.

  “They’re not going to come ripping out of my chest like in that Alien movie, are they?” he asked.

  Abigail looked at me, narrowing her eyes. “Are you thinking of Maggie?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Rebecca taught her a lot about plants in this part of the state and I know she took a look at those sketchbooks.” I turned back to John. “My friend Maggie Adams is an artist. If you think it would help I could call her and see if she could stop by and go through those sketchbooks.”

  “It would help,” John said. “But are you sure she’s available?”

  “I can ask. Maggie is very much on the no side when it comes to the development. I think she’d be happy to help if she can.”

  Abigail—who I knew was also opposed to the development—smiled. “Why don’t I show John the herbarium while you call Maggie?”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  John picked up the leather messenger bag he’d set at his feet and gave me a warm smile. “Thanks, Kathleen. I appreciate all your help.”

  I smiled back at him. “You’re welcome.”

  I went upstairs to my office to call Maggie. “I can walk over right now,” she said once I explained about John and the sketchbooks.

  I swiveled in my chair and looked out the window over the water. There were a few clouds, like puffs of white cotton floating high in the sky. “I’m not taking you from anything important, am I?” I asked.

  “I’ve been staring at a bunch of photos on my computer for the last twenty minutes and I still don’t know which ones to print,” she said. “And stopping the plans for the lakefront is more important than anything else right now as far as I’m concerned. I’ll see you in a little while.”