“I think you killed them all,” Nick said. “You’re old enough, and you’re strong enough, and you’re just about the right height—and Danny over there proves you’ve got the wherewithal to kill a man. You knew where those forgotten graveyards were located—you’re the town librarian—you had access to all the historical records. What I want to know is, why? What are you trying to hide? We’re talking about murder here, Agnes. I have to call the police—you know that, don’t you? I have to notify the FBI too. Danny was a federal agent, and they take a very dim view of losing one of their own. They’re going to ask you all these questions and a whole lot more, and they won’t be nearly as nice as I am. Why don’t you talk to me first? Maybe I can act as a go-between and make things a little easier for you.”

When the old woman still refused to answer, Nick got up from the loading dock and looked at Gunner. “Well, there’s one way to find out where Danny was ‘pokin’ his nose.’”

“How?”

Nick pointed to the smear of blood leading from the body back to the library door. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said to Gunner. “Keep an eye on her—and I wouldn’t turn my back if I were you.”

Nick entered the library and followed the bloody trail to a small room just off the lobby. He immediately recognized it—it was the “shrine” to Victoria Braden. But what would Agnes be trying to hide here? It was a shrine after all—a public place, a place that welcomed visitors and admirers. But maybe there was more to this shrine than met the eye; maybe Danny somehow violated this sacred place; maybe he took a peek behind the altar and found something he wasn’t supposed to see.

Bingo.

The crimson streak ended at a table in the center of the room. There was an open scrapbook lying on it; both facing pages were spattered with dots of blood. Nick took a pen from his pocket and used it to carefully turn the pages, examining the contents of the scrapbook from beginning to end. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck, and more than once he turned to look behind him.

A few minutes later he pushed open the library door and stepped onto the loading dock again.

Gunner looked up. “Well?”

Nick walked down the short stairway and stood in front of Agnes. “I found the scrapbook,” he said to her. “I read it from cover to cover. Was it really that important, Agnes? Was it really worth the lives of five people?”

“What scrapbook?” Gunner asked. “What did you find in there?”