Page 3 of June's First Murder
Pippi rolled over for a belly rub and allowed herself to be examined. Carl's hands were gentle and professional. "She looks great," he said finally, giving Pippi a scratch behind her ears that made the dog's back leg thump appreciatively. "All clear." He looked up and asked, “Where’s Mister Smee?”
Referring to Nana June’s white-faced, orange cat, Sara Lee laughed. “He’s back in the stacks, no doubt, finding the perfect sun spot on a comfortable book.”
Carl smiled as he stood, picking up his bag.
"Thank you for stopping by," Nana June said warmly. "Will we see you at the festival tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Carl stood, not bothering to brush dog hair off his khakis. He looked at Sara Lee. "Are you... will you be there? At Barb's booth?"
"Most of the day, yeah."
"Maybe I could... bring you lunch? If you get a break?"
Ted made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh. Nana June busied herself with a stack of books, but Sara Lee could see her grandmother's smile.
"Yeah, sure. That’d be nice," she agreed easily.
"Great. Okay. Good. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then." Carl's whole face brightened, and as he turned, he nearly walked into a book cart on his way out.
Ted didn't even try to hide his grin. "That boy is smitten," he announced once the door closed.
"Mr. Masterson, don't you start," Sara Lee warned, but she was smiling.
"I think it's sweet. Carl's a good man,” Nana June announced with her usual practicality.
Before Sara Lee could respond, the door opened again, and they all turned to see who was coming in next.
2
SARA LEE
This time it was Petunia Melton, the county judge's wife, impeccably dressed in a cream-colored linen pantsuit that was certainly not bought in Meadowlark Creek, but probably from one of the boutiques in Richmond. Petunia had the elegance of someone who'd married into old money, while not wanting others to remember she’d come from more simple means.
"June!" Petunia's voice had a strained quality as she hurried to the check-out counter where Nana June stood.
“Good morning, Petunia,” her grandmother greeted. “What can I do for you?”
Petunia’s hands waved around, haphazardly pointing to the many boxes of books. "I wanted to make sure everything was set for tomorrow. Is the book sale organized? The children's reading corner is ready?"
Nana June smiled, appearing as calm as Petuniaappeared frazzled. "Everything's perfect, Petunia. We've been preparing for a long time."
"Good. Good." Petunia’s expensively bejeweled fingers twitched at her pearl necklace. "I need everything to go smoothly. So many people will be at the festival.”
Sara Lee couldn’t remember seeing Petunia so nervous. The judge’s wife usually commanded every situation with the bearing of a general while dressed in expensive clothes after a day at a spa. She glanced at her grandmother, checking to see her reaction.
Before anyone could speak more words of assurance, Petunia let out a shaky breath, looked around the library space, then leaned closer. She lowered her voice, sounding more resigned than relieved. “Horace is... well, we have a situation."
Nana June's expression sharpened with concern. "Is everything all right, Petunia dear?"
Petunia glanced at Ted and Sara Lee, clearly debating whether to speak freely. Finally, she sighed. "Horace's brother is coming to town for the festival. Raymond." She said the name like it tasted bad. "He's... his usual difficult self."
Even Petunia's lowered voice carried across the library, and Sara Lee noticed the ripple effect. Near the circulation desk, the assistant librarian, Diane Russo, dropped a book. It hit the floor with a loud thump, and she bent quickly to retrieve it. Her eyes in a pale face darted toward Petunia, then quickly away.
At the reading table by the windows, Helena, who’d just come in from gardening, sat by Lucy Henderson,the mayor’s wife. Helena had probably been called by Lucy since both were reviewing the festival program. But Lucy's usual composure cracked as her head popped up at the mention of Raymond's name. She snapped at Helena about some minor detail on the decorations list, her voice sharp enough that several patrons looked up.
Helena barely seemed to hear her, twisting a pen between her fingers in a nervous rhythm, her eyes distant and distracted. She took to her feet and grabbed her purse, mumbling, “I forgot that Pete needs me to go on a pastoral visit now,” as she hurried out the door.
It was odd, Sara Lee thought. Raymond Melton hadn't even arrived in town, and already the mention of his name was making people nervous.
