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After what seemed like the longest time, we set a course for the homestead, and Dooley was the first one to break the silence.

“Who would have thought?”

“Yeah, who would have thunk?”

We didn’t speak again. We were both bone-tired, and the moment we arrived home, we both dropped our weary bodies down, me on my favorite spot on the couch, and Dooley right next to me. He’d asked to crash at my place, as he didn’t want to risk coming across Harriet and Brutus, and I’d magnanimously agreed. Dooley and I are like brothers, and my space is his space. Besides, we’d just made a blood oath, so now we were blood brothers.

And then we both fell into a deep, healing sleep, dreaming of cruel killers and feral cats and big bags of the best kibble Odelia’s money could buy.

Chapter 19

Odelia parked the pickup across the street from the library. It was located on its own patch of land, and fronted by a small garden that sported several flower beds and looked as colorful, cozy and inviting as the library itself, the place where her mother Marge had worked all her life. A neo-Elizabethan style building, it looked like something transported from England and plunked down here. Once inside, it got even better, as high ceilings and open spaces invited you in. Hampton Covians young and old gathered here to find their favorite book or to listen to one of the writers occasionally asked to read from their work.

Recently the library had been expanded with a children’s wing, which was now the pride and talk of the town. Odelia didn’t have to look long for her mother, who was at the desk, checking out a couple of books for a young mother and her two kids. While she waited until her mom was free, Odelia strode to the newspaper and magazine nook and took a seat. A copy of her very ownHampton Cove Gazette was on display, right next to the big boys like theNew York Times, theWashington Post andUSA Today. Of course the local press was also represented:Dan’s Papers and theEast Hampton Star had pride of place.

She picked up a copy ofTime Magazine and saw that it featured an article on Paulo Frey, on the occasion of his disappearance one year ago. She leafed through the article, and saw that the reporter, like most people, simply assumed the writer had gone off to write a novel somewhere on an exotic island, and would soon return clutching a voluminous tome that would prove his masterpiece. Little did they know he’d been resting at the bottom of a pit all this time.

She placed the magazine back on the stand and wandered over to the new children’s section, past rows and rows of neatly indexed books. The children’s room sported a large boat, where kids could sit and read, and other creative nooks as well, all in a bid to inspire the new generation to take up the habit of picking up a book from time to time. In this day and age of electronic devices, it was sometimes hard to get kids to read, when they could watch a cartoon on their tablet computer instead, and the new wing had been designed to provide kids with a sense of curiosity about the world of books, and to instill them with a love for the medium that would hopefully last a lifetime.

“Great space, huh?” her mother asked when she joined her. Marge Poole was a fine-boned woman with long blond hair, just like her daughter, and soft, brown eyes that spoke of her humanity. She was soft-spoken and sweet-tempered, and had been a mainstay at the library for the past thirty years.

She now stepped into the boat and picked up a picture book of Jonah and the Whale and started flipping its pages. Odelia joined her and picked up a Garfield comic book. Garfield always reminded her of Max.

“So how are things at the paper?” Marge asked.

“Great,” said Odelia. The boat was even more spacious than she’d imagined, even for two grownups, so she gathered for kids it was enormous. “I’m working on an article about the Paulo Frey murder case.”

“I heard about that,” said her mother, looking up. “What a horrible thing to happen in Hampton Cove. Who would have thought something like this was even possible? It’s more something you’d expect in New York, not here.”

“Yeah, it’s not something that happens every day,” she agreed, then decided to broach a topic that might lead her into trouble. “Dad told me you invited that new cop for dinner? Chase Kingsley?”

Her mother’s face lit up with a smile. “Such a nice young man. I figured since he’s new in town, it would be nice to offer him a home-cooked meal and show him that Hampton Cove is a genuinely hospitable town.”

“So you met him, huh?”

“Alec brought him by the library yesterday to introduce him.”

“He, um…” She hesitated. “Did he tell you about his previous career?”

“Well, Alec told me that Chase used to work for the NYPD.”

“Did he also tell you how he got fired?”

Her mom’s eyes widened. “Fired? No, he didn’t tell me about that.”