Faux Paw: A Magical Cats Mystery Read Online Free

prevented him from getting to. Still, it didn’t hurt to have Mary, who knew all the kids’ parents and grandparents, at the circulation desk while they tried to work their way around the latest firewall I’d installed.
    “Larry should be here about nine thirty to do a test of the window alarms,” I reminded Mary and Abigail. They both made faces. The temporary security system that Larry Taylor was helping to install had an alarm that sounded like an air horn. “The board will be here at two for an update. And the quilters are using our meeting room because there’s water in the church basement.”
    Mary took off her glasses and began cleaning them with the end of her sweater. “Kathleen, where are we going to entertain the board if the quilters are in our only meeting room?”
    “I already thought of that,” I said. I held up a finger. “The quilters finish at one thirty. Give them fifteen minutes to gather their stuff.” I held up a second finger. “At one forty-five I give the room a quick vacuum and toss a cloth on the table. Mia will be here by then.” The teenager had started out as a co-op placement from the high school and now worked part-time for me. The little ones loved her Kool-Aid-colored hair and the seniors were charmed by her lovely manners.
    I added a third finger to the first two. “Mia sets the table while I run back upstairs to make the tea, and at five to two I will be waiting, graciously, by the front desk.” I extended both hands with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
    Abigail laughed. “All you need is one long-winded quilter and your whole plan falls apart.”
    I narrowed my gaze at her. “O ye of little faith,” I said. “Do you remember those boxes of books that Pete Simmons brought us when he cleared out his mother’s house?”
    She nodded.
    “Eva was a quilter. There were several books about quilting in one of the cartons. Mary is going to ask the ladies to come out to the desk and take a look at them so we can decide if we should add any of them to our collection.” I raised one eyebrow at her in classic Mr. Spock–from–
Star Trek
style. “As I said, ta and da.”
    “Very crafty of you,” Abigail countered with a grin.
    I made a face at her pun and got to my feet. “Let’s get started, then,” I said.
    It was a busy day. Rena Adler showed up just after we opened.
    “Hi, Kathleen,” she said. “Is Margo here?” She was carrying a blue file folder and she tapped one edge of it with her fingers.
    I shook my head. “Not yet.”
    Rena made a face. She was a bit shorter than me, maybe five-five, in her black Dr. Martens, with her black hair in a twist. “She asked for my bio.” She held up the folder. “Would you mind giving it to her for me? I’m meeting Ruby at the co-op store in a few minutes.”
    Rena had been staying in Mayville Heights all month. After they’d met, Ruby had recruited her for a painting workshop she was doing with a couple of art classes at the high school.
    “I don’t mind at all,” I said. “Does Margo have a number for you in case she wants to talk to you about it?”
    Rena smiled. Like Marcus, she had deep blue eyes and incredibly long eyelashes. “Yes, she does. She’s probably called me ten times just about the frames for my paintings.”
    “Margo is very . . . exacting. But she cares about every piece in the show.”
    She nodded. “You’re right about that.” She handed over the folder. “Thanks, Kathleen.”
    “You’re welcome,” I said.
    Rena left and I took the papers she’d given me upstairs. I’d meant what I’d said to her: Margo did care about every single painting and drawing in the exhibit. She wanted the local artwork to be seen at its best and she worried about what the change in conditions would do to the museum pieces. I felt certain that if the decision had been up to her, the library would never have been chosen as a venue.
    Margo Walsh walked in at nine thirty with Larry Taylor. I caught enough of their