Twenty minutes later, Katie was waiting in the parking lot for Matt.

She saw his car turn into the lot and walked over to meet him.

She climbed in and said, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

“Like I said, I really liked Ellen.”

“According to Beth, her mom was doing some research on Christopher’s family. I think we need to go to the library and see what we can dig up on those people.”

“Library?” Matt asked. “Can’t you just Google them?”

“I did. There was nothing other than Mrs. Riley’s obituary from two years ago. I doubt the Baxter weekly news has been scanned into the web.”

“This is getting pretty old school.” Matt turned the car in the direction of downtown. “Maybe you should wear a trench coat and a fedora.”

Katie smiled. “You want to wear one too, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t want to pass up a chance to sit in a dark room scrolling through microfilm. And if I could wear a cool hat, all the better.”

Katie laughed. But she was worried there would not be any records at all. Baxter’s library was tiny and mostly loaned out popular paperbacks that had been donated over the years.

Five minutes later, they pulled up outside the Baxter Community Library. Katie was surprised to find the place fairly crowded. Who knew that Thursday afternoon was the business rush for the library?

A loud group of kids was alternately singing and screaming in the children’s area, which was only a roped-off section of the room. Several elderly men had commandeered a table in the corner and sat quietly reading newspapers. A young man shelved books from a cart with a bored, sullen manner. Katie wondered if any of the books would be seen again. He didn’t appear to have any knowledge or respect for the Dewey decimal system.

She and Matt approached the circulation desk to ask about old issues of the Baxter newspaper.

Francine Marshall looked at them over her reading glasses and broke into a warm smile that changed her face from forbidding to almost friendly.

“Hello, Dr. LeClair,” she said. “It’s so nice to see you out and about.”

Katie had recently seen Francine’s eight-year-old twin boys in her clinic. Katie was certain they had never been allowed inside the library—they were the kind of kids that climbed on everything, ran everywhere, and never sat down. When they weren’t punching each other, they were plotting further mayhem.

Katie introduced Matt to Francine and then leaned over the counter and lowered her voice.

“Do you have any old copies of the Baxter Gazette? Maybe on microfilm?”

“Microfilm? How many years ago are you looking for?”

Katie and Matt looked at each other. “Maybe forty or even fifty?” Katie said.

Francine’s eyebrows rose, and she pulled off her glasses. “Hmm. Let’s go take a look and see what we have.”

She led them to a small back room with filing cabinets and began reading the labels. Katie and Matt looked as well, but it didn’t take them long to realize that the files only went back twenty years. And even those drawers were filled with yellowed, dusty, cracked microfilm that likely wouldn’t survive being loaded into a machine.

Matt looked at the microfilm reader and flicked the switch to turn it on. The bulb inside popped, and the light went out.

“Oh, no,” Francine said. “I’ll have to see if we have a replacement bulb.”

“Thanks, Francine,” Katie said, “but I don’t think the files go back far enough.”

“You might try the historical society,” Francine said. “I know they’ve collected old photos. They might have old newspapers as well.”

She followed Matt out to the parking lot, and they climbed back into his car.

“Maybe the newspaper offices keep copies,” Matt said.

“That’s brilliant!” Katie said. “But there’s no way I’ll be able to get a look at them.”

“Why not?”

“Linda Carlson is the editor. She’s married to John Carlson. If I go and ask her about newspapers from forty years ago, she’ll tell the chief, and then he’ll know what I’m up to.”

“How is the chief going to connect Ellen’s murder with your interest in the history of Baxter?”

“Well, his wife may have told him that Ellen had been doing some research as well.” Katie let her head fall back against the seat. She thought of Ellen’s note to herself about contacting Linda. She didn’t know that Ellen had ever actually contacted Linda, and Katie needed more information. Between teaching his class and working on his freelance coding job with a looming deadline, Caleb hadn’t had time to focus on Ellen’s files, so she was left trying to follow in Ellen’s tracks and hope she found the same information Ellen had. “But I guess I could tell her I just want to get a sense of the town . . .”

“Let’s go,” Matt said and started the car. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Chief Carlson will yell at me,” Katie said to the ceiling.

“Yeah, I’ve seen how scary he is. I’m sure you’ve held up under worse scrutiny than John Carlson. Just surviving a surgical rotation proves that.”

They drove to the small office of the Baxter Gazette. The Gazette consisted mostly of ads for local businesses and items on sale at the grocery store. The high school dean’s list was printed, along with wedding and baby announcements. However, her favorite section was the “Police Blotter,” in which the local crimes were listed each week. They never used names, but Debra claimed it wasn’t hard to figure out. Much like the stocks in olden days, even if no one threw rotten tomatoes, the whole town knew who was speeding by the school, whose teen had stolen a bike, and where the drug deals were happening.

Matt slowed in front of the office and parallel parked. They glanced into the large window and saw that they were in luck. Lights were on, and it appeared that at least one person was working at a desk toward the back.

They climbed out of the Honda and approached the door. It was locked, but there was a doorbell to the right of the handle. Katie pressed it, and she saw the person at the back peek her head around her laptop.

It was Linda Carlson. She got up and came toward the door, frowning. She was a petite woman, barely making it to five feet, and she wore her silver hair in a sleek pageboy cut. She was dressed in jeans and a Michigan State sweat shirt.

As she drew nearer to the door, she recognized Katie, and her green eyes lit up. The frown was replaced by a warm smile, and she hurried to unlock the door.

“Katie, it’s lovely to see you!”

“Hello, Linda.” Katie gestured to Matt. “I don’t know if you’ve met Dr. Matt Gregor.”

Linda and Matt shook hands. “Come in, please.” She stood back and waved them inside. She locked the door after them and led them farther into the office space.

There were three desks, multiple bookcases, and a whole wall of filing cabinets in the small room. Katie was surprised that there was more than one desk. She’d been under the impression that Linda wrote and published the newspaper all on her own.

Linda led them to a small couch and chairs surrounding a low table that held the last few issues of the Gazette.

“Can I offer you anything?” Linda asked. “We have tea and water, I think.”

“We don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Katie said.

They had discussed their strategy on the way to the Gazette office. To throw Linda off the scent and keep John Carlson from finding out what they were up to, they’d come up with a cover story that they hoped would suffice.

“Matt and I felt like we’d like to get to know Baxter a little better, since we’re both practicing here now. It helps to know the community.”

“Wonderful!” Linda beamed at them as if this was the best idea she had ever heard. “What would you like from me?”

“Do you have old copies of the Gazette?”

Linda waved her arm at the wall of filing cabinets. “Those go back twenty years, but I have the rest in a storage unit a few blocks away. What exactly are you looking for?”

“It’s one of those things where we’ll know it when we see it,” Matt said. “Have there been any major news stories here in Baxter?”

“There was the time the deer crashed into the ICU at Baxter hospital. That was about four years ago.” Linda drummed her fingers on the table. “Fortunately, no patients were there at the time. He ran through the window and then escaped into the halls. They had to lock down all the patient rooms and call John. He finally cornered it in the patient lounge. It was part of the reason for the ICU renovation.”

“Maybe something a little juicier,” Matt said.

Linda held up a finger. “We had a strike at the popcorn factory about ten years ago. It lasted a whole month and was a very big story at the time.”

“How about any disappearances . . . or suspicious deaths?” Katie asked.

“Other than Ellen Riley, I can’t think of a murder in Baxter in all the time I’ve lived here.” Linda’s eyes reddened, and she looked for a moment like she might cry. “Ellen was a really lovely woman.”

“I liked her as well,” Katie said. “She had a very serene way about her.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Linda held her hand out to Katie, palm up. “She made you feel calmer, just by talking to her. It’s probably why she was so good at counseling.”

Linda stood and went to the cabinets. “I think there may have been some disappearances, though. Back in the aughts, a teenager went missing but was later found in Ann Arbor.” She rummaged in the cabinet and pulled out a stack of old, yellowing newspapers, handing them to Matt.

“And then there was Noah Swanson.” Linda pulled open another drawer. “He was never found. According to his wife, he just left one day and never came back. Left behind two teenage boys.”

The name instantly struck Katie.

“Is he any relation to Eric Swanson?”

“That’s the older son, yes.” Linda handed Katie a few newspapers, a much smaller stack than the ones Matt was holding. “It’s funny how tragedy sometimes follows a family. I think the wife’s father also disappeared, but I’d have to pull those papers from storage. It was during my father’s time here at the Gazette.” Katie hadn’t known that Marilyn’s husband had disappeared. For some reason, she had assumed she was a widow.

“Can we look through these papers now?” Matt asked.

“Of course. I’ll be here for at least another hour. You two can use that desk.”

Katie and Matt carefully bundled up the papers and stacked them on the desk. Matt flipped through the stack related to the missing teen, and Katie took the missing husband. The desk was small, and they sat close together. She found she was very aware of his every movement and had to force herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Thinking about the way he had dropped his afternoon plans to help her comb through old newspapers made her wonder again if Gabrielle’s information was true. Was he really this nice of a guy, or was he interested in her? Maybe it was both.

The Gazette was not a deeply investigative newspaper. The articles consisted mostly of interviews with neighbors and other townspeople who claimed to have seen something or who just had an opinion to share.

Katie read one interview that featured Miss Simms. She was quoted as saying, “Marilyn is better off without him. I’m sure you know what I mean.” It sounded like it was a difficult marriage. No wonder Marilyn had such a sad air about her. Katie needed to talk to Miss Simms again.

After half an hour of combing the interviews, gossip, and innuendo that passed for journalism, Katie had found no additional information. But she did know more than when she walked into the office. Noah Swanson had disappeared, he left a good job without notice, he was not well liked, and Miss Simms might be able to tell her more. Katie wondered if there had been abuse. All this time she had conjectured that Marilyn was an abuser, prompting Eric to become the same way with his family. Maybe she’d been a victim as well.

Katie turned to Matt. “Anything?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think this is what we’re looking for. The girl took off with a boyfriend and came home a week later. Her name was Alicia Stewart.”

“I don’t recognize the name,” Katie said.

Linda had heard them and said, “She’s married now. Her new name is Nielsen. She just had a baby.”

Katie caught her breath. Her six-month well-baby checkup. The mother was this same teenager.

“I think I know her,” Katie said.

Linda smiled. “She’s a lovely person. And that baby is adorable. Alicia gave her parents an awful time when she was younger, but she pulled herself together, went to school, and works at one of the smaller university libraries in Ann Arbor.”

“Thank you for your help,” Matt said. “We’ve taken enough of your time today.”

“I’ll swing by the storage unit on my way home this afternoon. I’ll call you if I find anything ‘juicy.’”

Katie and Matt went back to his car.

“I’m starting to wonder if Ellen died because of her research or something else entirely,” Katie said. “We haven’t found out anything particularly damaging so far.”

“You know what they say on all the cop shows,” Matt said.

“No. What do they say?”

“Follow the money,” Matt said and put the car in gear.

Matt was right. She needed to figure out who benefited from Ellen’s death.

He drove her to the auto body shop where her car was waiting. She’d be glad to have it back. She’d been feeling like a preteen again, relying on other people for rides everywhere.

She climbed out of Matt’s car and leaned in the window.

“Thank you for helping today.”

“I don’t feel like we accomplished much,” Matt said.

“Maybe not, but we learned a couple of things about Baxter.”

“I guess that’s true,” Matt said. “It was fun, playing detective.”

Katie smiled. “It was.” She turned away to walk into the office.

“Katie?” Matt called.

Katie turned and waited.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Katie felt heat in her cheeks. It was just dinner, after all. She’d never forgive herself if she took the safe way out. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Really? Great!” Matt smiled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Katie waved and walked into the garage. She noticed Matt was still there when she came out with the keys. He beeped the horn and pulled out of the lot as she climbed into her car.

As she watched him drive away, she pulled out her phone and texted Gabrielle.

I have news, and it’s not about a murder.

The answer came back: I have ten minutes between patients—don’t call unless it’s about a man.

Katie grinned and pressed Gabrielle’s phone number.

“Oh, my God!” Gabrielle said when she answered. “Tell me everything.”

Katie gave her the thirty-second version of her afternoon of sleuthing with Matt.

“Yeah, yeah, very Nancy Drew and whatever the boyfriend’s name was,” said Gabrielle. “I hope you have more to tell me than that.”

“He asked me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Yes! I knew it,” Gabrielle said. “You two are perfect for each other.”

“You told me he wouldn’t date another medical person,” Katie said.

“That was some bad intel. I’ll have to check my source—she may not know as much as she claims. Maybe she made it up because he’s not interested in her.”

“Also, you hardly know him—how do you know we’d be perfect for each other?”

“Because you blush every time his name comes up, and I’ve never seen you do that in all the time I’ve known you.”

“That’s not—”

“Oops, gotta go! I want all the details as soon as you get home.” Gabrielle disconnected the call.

Katie sat in the parking lot shaking her head. She pulled down the mirror and looked at her face. She hated when Gabrielle was right.

* * *

Katie had just pulled into her driveway when her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up and saw the text was from Beth.

Saw that you called. Can we meet? I have something to show you.

Katie sent her address and told her to stop by anytime.

On my way.

Katie dumped her bag and jacket in the kitchen and put some water on to boil. She had just poured it over tea in two mugs when she heard Beth’s car in the driveway. She went to the door to let her in.

“I’m so glad you were home,” Beth said. She stepped inside and glanced around the sparse living room.

“I just made some tea,” Katie said. “Let’s sit in the kitchen.”

Beth followed her through the dining room and into the kitchen, where they sat at the small table.

Beth dispensed with the small talk and got straight to the point.

“I went to see the lawyer yesterday,” she began. “He was actually very helpful, and I’ve been mulling over what to do ever since.”

“What did he tell you?”

Beth reached into her bag and pulled out a small yellow mailing envelope. Beth’s name was scrawled on the front.

“What’s that?”

“Apparently, my mother left this for me. The instructions were to turn it over to me if I came asking questions,” Beth said. She looked up to the ceiling and blinked several times. She looked back down at the table and took a sip of tea.

“What’s in there?”

Beth tilted her head toward the envelope, and Katie reached out to pick it up. The package felt bulky, like there was a small notebook inside. She opened the string clasp and reached in. She pulled out an old leather-bound notebook and opened it to the front page.

“Property of: Sylvia Riley” was written in perfect cursive.

Katie looked at Beth. “What is this?”

“I think it’s part of what my mom was researching,” Beth said. “I read some of it, and it seems to be a collection of secrets or rumors about people in town. I only recognized a few names, but I looked them up, and they all live or lived in Baxter.”

Katie put her hand over the book as if that could keep it in check. She remembered what Patsy Travers had said about Sylvia collecting secrets. She had never imagined they were written down somewhere.

“How did your mom get this book?”

Beth gave a half shrug. “The lawyer didn’t know. He said he was told to give it to me if I came looking for it. Mom must have felt she was in danger, and she knew I would try to find out what happened.” Beth’s voice got thick, and she rubbed at her eyes. “I just wish she had told me what was going on before she died.”

Katie put her hand over Beth’s and waited while she quietly cried. She pushed a tissue box toward Beth. After a minute or two, Beth sniffled and looked at Katie.

“I know my mom was going through the house a little at a time. She had done the most important rooms when they first moved in after Mrs. Riley died. She told me a couple months ago that she was finally going to tackle the upstairs office. I assume she found it in there.”

Katie turned to the first entry. The ink was faded. It read, “Mabel Quarton and Reverend Sykes seen together in Ann Arbor,” followed by a list of church committees. Sylvia was in charge of all of them. The last entry on the page read, “deceased.”

Katie flipped rapidly through the book and saw similar entries for bribery, affairs, and secret pregnancies.

“Wow, this is really something,” Katie said.

Beth nodded. “I had to stop reading it. It felt like I was snooping in Sylvia’s diary, except all the secrets belonged to other people.”

“Can I keep this overnight?” Katie asked.

“You can keep it as long as you want,” Beth said. “Maybe when we get into the computer files, we can figure out which of these secrets my mom was researching. It has to be what she meant, don’t you think?”

Katie nodded.

“She must have found the book, recognized someone, and started looking into their secret,” Beth said. “It makes me sick to my stomach to think about it. I can’t imagine my mom blackmailing anyone, but that seems to be what Sylvia was doing. Why would my mom want to keep this thing? Why didn’t she just burn it?”

“I don’t know, Beth.” Katie shook her head. She knew where to find answers. The last entry would presumably be the most recent, so Katie would start there and see if she could come up with some names of people who might have been relieved by Sylvia’s death and scared when Ellen started asking questions.

She walked Beth to the front door with promises to call as soon as she knew anything. Katie returned to the small table, took out her own notebook, and mentally rolled up her sleeves.

Two hours later, Katie leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head. Her neck was sore from bending over the book and trying to decipher the handwriting. The entries at the beginning were faded, and the ones at the end were hard to read because Sylvia had developed a tremor, which translated her beautiful cursive into hieroglyphics.

Katie had made some notes in her own notebook and added a couple of names to her list of suspects. According to Sylvia’s book, Cecily had been a stripper before she met Nick. Katie assumed Nick didn’t know, since Sylvia had written it down. Katie thought she remembered Nick saying that Cecily was from the East Coast but that all of her family had died. Katie wondered if that was why she and Ellen had fallen out. Would Ellen have confronted her friend? And would that be enough reason for Cecily to want her dead?

Reverend Fultz, the Methodist minister, really was having an affair. Gabrielle had been right that night at Riley’s. Katie decided not to tell her, but his name went on the list. It was always best not to rule out anything as too farfetched, even though a bad cough was usually from a cold and not tuberculosis.

Partway through the book, a page had been ripped out. Whether Sylvia had done it or Ellen, Katie couldn’t tell. She yawned and stood up. It had grown dark outside while she sat immersed in the town’s secrets. She called for pizza delivery and sat at the table again to go over her notes looking for something she may have missed.