Vineyard Chill by Philip R. Craig

Author:Philip R. Craig [Craig, Philip R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2010-07-06T12:55:08.451000+00:00

I fed Oliver Underfoot and Velcro, answered their questions about where I'd been and what I'd been doing, then got out my own Remington 12-gauge pump and a couple of boxes of shells and took the weapon and ammo to John Skye's house. No need, I thought, to insert one of John's weapons into the game we were playing; I'd use my own. At John's house I put the gun and ammunition in Clay's bedroom closet, then drove to the Edgartown library, where, since it was March and not July, I found a convenient parking place on North Water Street. Bonzo was on my mind. I needed to help him, and the library was a good place to start.

I'm very fond of libraries because they're full of books and are run by people who are smart, who like their work, and who, unlike many public employees, welcome customers. Our family computer can produce all sorts of information, but a library has charm and warmth, two characteristics the computer lacks. Besides, I wanted information I couldn't get, or at least couldn't find, on the computer, being an antigeek with regard to both talent and temperament, to say nothing of my age. Already my ten-year-old son, Joshua, could run computer rings around me, and his little sister, Diana, was not far behind. Both of them, however, were in school that day, so to the library I had come.

Amelia Samson was at the desk. "What can I do for you, J.W.?" she asked.

"A year ago a woman named Nadine Gibson disappeared from Oak Bluffs. There was some newspaper coverage of the case. I'd like to see the local papers from that period." "Oh," she said. "The radio says they've found her body. I remember the original stories. For a few days she was news, but then she wasn't anymore. I guess the police decided there wasn't any reason to pursue it further at the time. Now they will." "Yes."

"It's not like that Brazilian man who disappeared. His roommate cleaned out his bank account and went back to Brazil. The police are still interested in the roommate even though they've never found the body of the missing man." I nodded. It was a recent case, but since the United States had no extradition treaty with Brazil and since there was no body, the chances were that the crime, if there was one, would never be officially solved and the perp would live happily ever after.

"Anyway," said Amelia, "we have old copies of the Gazetteand the Timeson microfilm. Do you know how to use our machines?"

"I think I can figure them out."

I could and did. Sharing the front pages with reports of a March snowstorm were stories of the missing woman. They were brief since no crime had ever been proved and no body had ever turned up. Still, they contained information I'd forgotten, some part of which had been gained from local people who knew her. The Gazettereporter was wise enough to include her sources in her story.

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