Page 72 of Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Book
“Late afternoon? Round this time, usually. Why?”
“Make sure you’re dressed. I’ll be right over.” Bella ended the call and set off across town.
“She’s in here.”
Bella guided Delvin Crump into the Underwoods’ living room. Even at four o’clock, the shorts of his uniform remained perfectly pressed and his socks pulled up all the way to the knee. Sitting on her mama’s couch, Lindsay could have been mistaken for a heap of dirty laundry.
“Hello, Mr. Crump.” Lindsay stood to greet him.
Delvin Crump took in the girl’s smeared mascara and unwashed hair. “Miss Underwood. I hear you’re the one who switched out all the books. Were you the one who thought to wrapBelovedin the cover ofOur Confederate Heroes?”
“Yes, sir,” Lindsay said with a tremble in her voice. “I’m very sorry for what you saw at Logan Walsh’s house.”
“I am, too,” Delvin said. “Bella tells me you think you’re responsible.”
Lindsay nodded. “TheCatcher in the Ryewas one of the books I left in Lula’s library.”
“And you think that book inspired Logan’s actions.”
Lindsay shrugged and sank down to the sofa. “I think there’s a chance.”
Delvin took a seat on a chair opposite Lindsay and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “That was a troubled and tormented young man who’d been used and abused by terrible people all of his life. He had a house filled with weapons and a shooting range with Barack Obama’s face pinned to one of the targets. And you think abookgave him the idea to kill people?”
Lindsay stayed quiet.
Delvin sat upright. “Sounds ridiculous when I put it that way, doesn’t it? But I’m going to go one further for you and put an end to any uncertainty. What I’m about to tell you didn’t make any of the news reports. I saw that book sitting on Logan Walsh’s desk the day he died. I thought maybe I could use it to get him to open up to me, so I asked him about it. He hadn’t readTheCatcher in the Rye. He didn’t know about Hinckley or Mark Chapman or anything else. He wanted to shoot people to prove to Nathan Dugan that he wasn’t worthless.”
“It wasn’t the book that inspired him?”
“It’s never the book,” Delvin said. “You didn’t have anything to do with Logan’s life being lost. But I can tell you one thing for sure—you helped make mine joyful again. I’d lost faith in this town. I thought it was filled with people like Lula and Nathan Dugan. But you, Bella, and the Wright boys helped me see that there are plenty of good folks around here. They just haven’t been shouting as loud as the others.”
All three heads swiveled toward the foyer at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Seconds later, Beverly Underwood appeared in the living room with Ronnie Childers, still wearing his work apron and carrying two bags of groceries.
“Well, hello there,” Beverly said, looking somewhat mystified. “Delvin. Bella. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“They came to give me a pep talk,” Lindsay explained.
“Ah.” Beverly left it at that for the moment. “Well, look who I found at the Piggly Wiggly!”
“Hey,” Ronnie offered awkwardly.
“Ronnie’s joining us for dinner tonight and y’all are invited, too. The Wrights will be joining us at six.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Beverly, but I got to finish up my route and get back to Wanda,” Delvin said, slapping his thighs and lifting up off the chair. “But I’ll see you all at the reunion on the third.”
“That, you will!” Beverly saw Delvin to the door then came back to Bella. “What about you, honey?”
“I’d love to stay for dinner, Mrs. Underwood,” Bella said. “If the Wrights are here, it will save me a trip. There are a few things I need to tell everyone.”
“Wonderful!” Then Beverly shot a quick glance at Ronnie Childers. When she looked back at Bella, there was a glimmer of inspiration in her eyes. “You know what? Why don’t you do me a favor, hon, and invite your grandma, Wilma, too?”
A few hours later, Bella was still wondering what Beverly had up her sleeve when their hostess gave Ronnie Childers a spot next to Wilma at the dinner table.
“I think I found your next client, Wilma,” Bella heard Beverly say.
“That right?” Wilma asked, her curiosity clearly piqued. “What’d they get you for, young man?”
“Felony possession of a schedule-one substance,” Ronnie admitted.
