Cat With a Clue Read Online Free

me when?” a severe female voice asked.
    I flopped back into my chair, pulled out a low desk drawer, and put my feet up. “Why didn’t you call my cell if you were so eager to talk?”
    â€œDid,” Kristen said. “A zillion times.”
    â€œIt’s so refreshing to talk to someone who never exaggerates.”
    â€œAnd it’s so nice to know that I’m last on the list of people you’ll call in an emergency.”
    â€œNot last,” I corrected. “That would be my mom.” Because as much as I loved my mother, she wasn’t much help in a crisis. She was great at hugs and sympathetic tears and cooking up comfort food, but for straight-out practical help, not so much.
    â€œTrue enough.”
    I heard a muted thumping noise and knew Kristen was in her restaurant’s kitchen, chopping up who knew what for lunch. Kristen had a PhD in biochemistry and had once worked for a major pharmaceutical company, but she’d chucked it all to come home to Chilson and run a restaurant that specialized in serving locally grown foods.
    During the restaurant’s conception stages, she’d been pulling out her long—and straight—blond hair over the lack of local fresh foods available in winter. I’dsuggested that since she hated snow anyway, to just close the place in winter. This had given the place its name, Three Seasons, and given Kristen an opportunity to spend the cold, snowy months in Key West, where she did some bartending on the weekends and as little as possible during the week.
    â€œSo,” she said now, “are you okay? I heard you fainted dead away when you found the body.”
    Frowning, I sat up a little. “Who told you that?”
    More thumping noises. “Can’t say. Promised Rafe I wouldn’t tell.”
    I slid back down. “Rafe’s making it up.”
    â€œWell, duh. So. Are you okay?”
    â€œHaven’t had time to think about it, really, but—” The library’s other phone line started beeping. “Hang on. There’s another call coming in.” I put Kristen on hold. “Good morning. Chilson District Library.”
    â€œIs it true?” a familiar male voice asked.
    â€œHang on,” I said, and punched out a sequence of buttons. “Conference call,” I told them. “And Rafe Niswander, I have never fainted in my life.”
    â€œYou told her,” he said to Kristen.
    â€œOf course I did. You knew I would.”
    â€œWell, yeah, but you promised.”
    I didn’t have to see the six-foot-tall Kristen to know she was rolling her eyes.
    â€œPromises from a girl to a boy don’t have any power over confidences between girls,” she said. “You should know that by now.”
    â€œIn theory, yes. It’s reality I have a hard time with.”
    Rafe wasn’t the only one having a hard time with reality. I blinked away the memory of what I’d seen that morning and tried to focus on the present. “Sorry—did someone ask a question?”
    â€œFor the billionth time, I asked if you’re okay,” Kristen said. “I mean, now that you’ve had time to think about it and all.”
    Yes, the last minute of my life had been very meditative. I half smiled, which I knew had been her intention. “I’ll feel better when the police figure out who did this.”
    But how had it been done? Detective Inwood had already been in my office, asking about the maintenance schedule (five p.m. to one a.m., five nights a week) and the library’s security system (doors that were securely locked every night). I’d passed on the phone number of Gareth Dibona, our custodian and maintenance guy, and Inwood told me that Gareth had said he hadn’t seen anyone in the building after closing time and that he’d locked up as usual. To Detective Inwood, I’d confirmed that I’d had to unlock when I’d arrived that