The Case of the Llama Raising Librarian

Cathy sat by the window in Gran’s kitchen watching the snowflakes fall. She wasn’t the only one observing this winter activity. Her six-month-old kittens, Harry and Hermione, whom she’d gotten for her birthday in October, gazed wide-eyed nearby.

“Are you bored, Catherine?” Florence asked, as she entered the room.

“No, Gran. There’s plenty to do. I’m just taking a break and watching the kittens.”

Florence smiled. “They are cute to watch. But you’ve been hanging around the house since college break started. I’m beginning to worry about you. Steven and Michael have called, and you haven’t even been available to see or at least talk with them. What’s wrong?”

Cathy shrugged, but she didn’t face her grandmother. “I’m fine. I only want some time alone.” She couldn’t tell her or even her best friend Nancy that she’d received a marriage proposal from Steve at Christmas and another from Michael at New Year’s. She’d been putting off giving them an answer.

She hadn’t expected Steve to invite her to his house on Christmas Eve and ask her to reach into a stocking with her name on it where she pulled out a ring box while he got down on one knee. The following week, Michael had invited her over to toast the New Year and slipped a ring next to her champagne glass. Although the two men were friends, she suspected that they wouldn’t have shared their proposal with the other, nor the fact that she had put them off.

The doorbell rang. Florence went to answer it. Cathy prayed it wasn’t Steve or Michael. Both had come to the house a week after their proposals, but she told her grandmother to make an excuse that she wasn’t home and stayed upstairs in her room. She also avoided going to Rainbow Rescues, the pet rescue center she owned with her brother, because Michael, their vet, might be checking the animals. When her gardener, Steve, came to shovel the snow at Gran’s house and Rainbow Gardens, her pet cemetery, she wouldn’t join him when Gran served him hot chocolate afterwards. She also avoided Nancy, her friend who worked at the detective agency for Howard Hunt, her grandmother’s boyfriend. After she’d helped Nancy and Howard solve the murder of her anthropology professor in October, she’d accepted a position at the agency but hadn’t spoken to Nancy or Howard since the holidays. Nancy had all but broken down Florence’s door trying to talk with her, but Gran insisted that it would be better to leave her alone.

As Cathy heard voices from the living room, her heart beat fast as she tried to figure out who was visiting. Michael, Steve, and Nancy hadn’t come by for a few days. And, while she was relieved, she felt guilt and regret at how she was treating them. The voices grew louder as they approached. Her grandmother was speaking with a woman. It wasn’t Nancy or her sister-in-law, Becky. The voice belonged to someone older. She recognized it as Gran led Mildred Hastings, the librarian, into the kitchen.

“Look who’s here, Catherine? Mildred wants to ask you something. I’ll put on tea and be right back.”

Cathy turned to face the librarian. Was she here on Michael, Steve, or, more likely, Nancy’s behalf to find out what was going on with her? She took a breath as the woman smiled, glanced at her through bifocals, and brushed flakes of snow from her gray, curly hair. Her brown eyes behind the thick lenses of her glasses held friendliness but a hint of sadness. “Hello, Cathy. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I wanted to speak with you in person. I need your help.”

Cathy thought the librarian was asking for help with her studies. Like Cathy, she’d gone back to college in the fall. “Sure, Mildred. Are you working on something for school?”

“No.” Mildred stepped closer and the kittens, wary of strangers, skittered away. “So sorry to frighten your cats. Hobo is used to me, so when I visit Nancy, he doesn’t run away.”

Hobo was the marmalade tabby her friend adopted from Rainbow Rescues last spring. He lived in Nancy’s downstairs apartment in the house that Mildred owned.

Cathy had hoped that the help Mildred needed was academic, so she was disappointed. “That’s okay, Mildred. What do you need? Nancy didn’t send you, did she?”

Mildred shook her head. “To be honest, she knew I was coming and asked me to see how you were doing, but that’s not the reason I’m here.”

Before Mildred could explain the purpose of her visit, Florence returned with a tray of tea and cookies. She placed them on the table. “Mildred, please have a seat. I’ll leave you two to talk. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“I’d like you to stay. I think you should hear what I have to ask Cathy.”

Florence raised a gray eyebrow. “That sounds mysterious.” As Mildred took a seat at the table, Florence slipped into a chair next to her. Cathy joined them.

“It is actually mysterious,” Mildred began, as Florence passed her and Cathy mugs. “I don’t know if either of you remember Doris Grady who used to work at the library with me. She retired five years ago when Cathy and Doug first moved in here with you, Florence.”

Cathy had a vague recollection of another librarian who once read to her and Doug in the library’s children’s corner when they visited Gran as kids. Florence nodded. “I remember Doris. She moved to a town near Hyde Park. I attended her retirement party.”

“I forgot that you were there.” Mildred blew on her mug and then took a sip of tea. She turned to Cathy. “I didn’t say anything to Nancy about what I’m about to ask you. She thinks I’m visiting to find out why you’re avoiding her. I know you’re going through something, but this may be just what you need to take your mind off it.”

Cathy gripped her teacup as the librarian continued. She had no idea what was coming. Was she suggesting therapy? Did she want to stage an intervention? Was this Gran’s idea, even though her face held puzzlement?

“I’ll cut to the chase, dear.” Mildred took another sip of tea and then placed her cup back on the coaster Gran had provided. Her next words were a shock. “Doris is dead. Her daughter thinks she was murdered. I’m hoping you’ll help me find her killer.”