Izoven: Song of Fire ✓

Chapter 3

Emery followed Mrs. Baker's flighty footsteps in between the tall bookshelves of the Bellenau Library. She tried her best to grasp each and every instruction that her host blabbered out. "These are our history books. On the other side is our science collection. And down this way." Mrs. Baker took quick steps down yet another hall of shelves. She snapped her fingers over her shoulder. "Quickly. Follow me."

Emery turned as they walked, their footsteps echoing in the great expanse of the surprisingly large library. There'd been so much talk of the old one being so huge and awe-worthy, she half expected this one to resemble a shabby bookstore in comparison. She did not expect to find a tall, cement monument with polished mahogany tables and exquisite lamps. The wooden bookshelves themselves were a work of art. There were intricate designs carved into each one.

There was only one problem, their book collection was . . . lacking, to say the least. There were so many empty shelves; she could clearly see the entrance from where she stood.

"Emery? Where'd you go?" Mrs. Baker peeked her head back to where Emery was standing. "Taking it all in, I'm guessing?"

Emery nodded, reaching for a nearby book and noticing its edition was of a recent year. "How long has it been since the reconstruction?"

Mrs. Baker walked toward her, with her hands grasped together over her belly. "We opened up about ten years ago. Give or take."

Emery flinched. Ten years? You'd think they'd have gathered more books by now.

The old woman slumped her shoulders, letting out a disappointed huff of air. "I know. There's not much. This place used to be filled to the tippy-top with every book you could think of, but that fire ruined everything. After the reconstruction, we were broke and fresh out of donations. Money doesn't come by easy. A town famous for its random fires isn't so attractive to benefactors."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then. Let's solve this mystery and get some benefactors," Emery beamed, but her optimism was received with a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile.

"You do your best."

Emery wrinkled her brow. She supposed Mrs. Baker knew nothing about her training in case research. As an excellent future cop, she'd crack this mysterious fire case in no time.

"But that does remind me. I have to show you where the records are." Mrs. Baker grabbed Emery's wrist and led her to the northwest corner of the library where there were four tall file cabinets labeled by year. "It's mostly old town newspapers and reports, but I hope it's enough."

Emery walked toward the drawer labeled the year of the fire and pulled it open. Her mouth twisted into a sour frown when her eyes met a half-empty drawer.

"I hope it is, too," Emery said, closing the drawer once more. She turned around when a singular, unimpressive wooden door caught her attention. "And what's in here? Another bathroom?"

"That's the door to the basement. The real valuables are locked down there until further notice."

An unexplainable urge to head down to that cellar overtook her, like an itch she had to scratch. Her eyes were drawn to its flimsy silver handle. It acted as a strong magnet, drawing in her steps. Her fingers wiggled in anticipation to throw the door open and see whatever was inside. "Are my grandfather's antiques down there?"

"I suppose."

"So . . ." She waited to see if Mrs. Baker caught on, but the woman gave her a blank look. "Can I go in?"

Mrs. Baker winced. "That'll be a toughie. The only person with a key is Melinda Simmons, and she gave me strict instructions that no one was to enter."