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She delivered me to the same bank of computers where Nan already sat deep in her research and clicked on an unfamiliar looking icon at the bottom of the screen.

“There,” she declared. “This is the homepage for our digital collections. We don’t have a lot compared to the fancy big city libraries like Portland or Bangor, but for such a small town, we have a rather impressive collection.”

“Thank you,” I said, scanning the list of periodicals on the site while the librarian hovered over my shoulder. I’d done some archival research during my college days, but on far broader topics. I’d never looked for something so specific or for something I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to find.

The young librarian patted my shoulder and smiled again.“I’ll just be at the desk. Give me a whisper if you need anything.” With that, she walked away, chuckling to herself.

I scanned headlines starting with this week’s and slowly working back through time. Like the mayor had said, most people who opposed him did so because of his relative lack of experience coupled with his status as a proud bachelor and his narrow win in the election.

I found several letters to the editor that complained about precisely these facts. By noting the names of the letter writers when available and the dates on which the letters were published, I was able to compile quite the list to share during our next group brainstorm.

“Find anything juicy?” Nan asked from across the way using a hushed tone.

I glanced up to find her peering between two of the computers to watch me.“Not much,” I admitted.

“Well, then hurry. Come over here. You’ll never believe what I just found.”

Chapter Eleven

I turned off the monitor on my computer and walked the long way around the computer bank, bringing myself to hover over Nan’s seated form.

She had several different browser windows open; the topmost was Mark Dennison’s personal Facebook profile.

“How long have you two been friends?” I asked in surprise.

“Since about twenty minutes ago,” she replied with a distracted smile as she pointed to a status toward the bottom of the feed.

I had to hand it to her, she worked fast and effectively.

“Look right here,” Nan continued. “This post is from several years back and about six months before the mayor adopted Marco.”

I read over her shoulder:

Should we really elect this candidate just because his wife came down with cancer? Sure, it’s sad, but it doesn’t change his politics. Vote with logic. Not sympathy.

“What a charmer,” I remarked.

“You said it.” Nan scrolled back up toward the top of the page. “There are a few other posts commenting on current events in a similar manner, and then—boom!—puppy Marco shows up and takes over his feed.”

I blinked hard.“So what do you think that means for our current case?” I asked, not wanting to connect the dots even as they were laid right out before me.

“Well, if you were really unpopular, what would you do to try to boost your own support?” Nan asked with a soft chuckle. “I, of course, can’t answer that question, having always been well liked in my day.”

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes Nan sounded too much like Octo-Cat for my liking.“Anything else?”

“You can see right here in plain writing that he believes these tactics work whether or not he likes them. And, look, he keeps referring to the new puppy as his family. The lack of a family has been the public’s number-one criticism of him ever since he first decided to run for public office. He started with the local school board, I believe. It’s the easiest in since there are so many spots.”

I hated this. If Nan was right… That poor dog had never been anything more than an extra ballot.

“So you don’t think he loves Marco? You think it is some kind of maneuver?”

“If you consider the timing of it all, things certainly look suspicious.”

“Suspicious. Right,” I said with a sigh. “Everything about this is suspicious. Maybe Octo-Cat is right. Murders are easier than kidnappings.”

“For someone who didn’t want him to come with us, you’re sure talking about that cat a lot.” Nan smiled to herself. “Now tell me what you were able to find in the papers.”

I swallowed down a lump in my throat.“Nothing. We’ve only been here a few minutes.”

“And yet that was enough time for me to find this golden nugget. Get it? Golden? As in retriever?”

I shook my head, refusing to laugh at such an obvious pun.“Does that mean we’re done here?” I asked instead.

“Not quite.” Nan closed all the Internet windows and brought up the library’s internal search engine. “While we’re here I think I’m going to check out a couple of books that have knitting patterns.”

Nan never failed to surprise me, and this latest revelation was no exception.“Knitting? I thought you gave that up. You said it was for old ladies, remember?”

“I did, but it’s been cold. And I thought EB could use a sweater to help keep her warm.”