Death Overdue (Librarian Mysteries) Read Online Free Page A

Caldwell and looked in the room. I felt some relief as I saw that all that had happened was one of the bookcases had toppled over. He must have been feeling terribly worried about the condition of the books that had fallen and were tossed all over the floor.
    But then I noticed he was staring at something else, and my eyes followed his down to the edge of the tidal wave of books.
    What I saw was a hand, a hand reaching out from under the sea of books.
    A woman’s hand, red nail polish on the long, slender fingers, still as stone.

SIX

Buried by Books
    T he three of us scrambled to dig Sally out, even though I had a deep sense that she was not with us any longer. I feared that the fall and tsunami of books had done her in.
    After we pulled up the bookcase, we carefully lifted the many heavy volumes off Sally. When we had freed the top half of her body, Caldwell had the presence of mind to send Penelope to call for help.
    I knelt down next to Sally to see if I could detect any signs of life. Her head was turned to the side, and her eyes were closed. When I reached out and touched her face, it felt unresponsive.
    First I checked her carotid artery, as I knew to do from taking CPR classes, which were required of all librarians. I could find no pulse. When I opened her eyes, there was no movement. But I knew that it might not be too late to save her, and so I administered CPR—putting both my hands on her chest and pumping rapidly up and down.
    After many minutes of my getting no response, Penelope took over.
    I stood next to Caldwell and shook my head. “I’m afraid it’s no use. I think we’ve lost her.”
    “What?” he asked, seeming dazed.
    “I don’t think she’s alive anymore,” I said, just to be clear. “I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around me.
    Even though Sally was minimally dressed, in a filmy white nightgown, she seemed remarkably unmarked by the onslaught of books—which made it hard to believe she could be dead.
    As I watched Penelope work on her, I noticed a trickle of blood coming from the back of Sally’s head. She must have fallen over backward and hit her head with tremendous force. I supposed such a blow could kill instantaneously.
    Caldwell stared at her and whispered to me, “I don’t understand how this could happen. She always hated books. Do you think she knew somehow that this would be her fate?”
    “If she hated books so much, what was she doing in here?” I asked, pointing to the mess around us.
    Just then Bruce appeared in the doorway of the library in a rumpled bathrobe. “Here, here. What’s going on?”
    I said, “There’s been an accident.” The British habit of understatement was catching on with me.
    He glanced down at Sally’s body, said, “Dreadful,” but then quickly began to peruse the books.
    A moment later a scream came from behind us, and we all jumped.
    Brenda stood in the doorway, wearing flannel pajamas with poodles all over them and her long hair streaming around her face. “Not Sally!” she cried out the name. “Not her!”
    She threw herself down on the floor, grabbed one of the well-manicured hands, and held on tight, as if she could pull the woman back from the dead. Her hair tumbled over her face as she leaned forward and cried.
    I put a hand on her shoulder and after a few moments lifted her up to her feet. She didn’t resist but turned in to my arms and kept crying.
    “I didn’t even get to say hello,” Brenda mumbled into my shoulder.
    “I’m so sorry,” I said.
    Then Brenda stepped away from me. “You didn’t even know her. She was a wonderful person. Better than you.”
    And then Alfredo stumbled through the library doorway. His hair stuck up like the crest on a woodpecker, and his eyes were as red as the bird’s crest.
    “What has happened to my darling?” he asked, rubbing his eyes as if he could change what he was seeing.
    “I’m afraid it’s not good news,” I told him.
    “She is just sleeping, yes?” he asked with a