This was OK. The protagonist, semi-retired librarian Charlie Harris, has a Maine coon cat, which is a nice touch. He takes the cat pretty much everywhere with him, a including work, walking him on a leash. This mystery involves present-day consequences from poor choices made in the past (everyone...
A nice second installment in the "Cat in the Stacks" series that manages to be fresh and natural-feeling continuation of Charlie's and Diesel's life without falling into a rut. Obviously there is still a murder involved, but the manner, focus, approach, and result are different. Charlie the Lib...
Despite Sondra’s claim that she was used to driving in high heels, An’gel still thought driver error could have caused the accident.Sondra had hit the live oak with the right front side of the car, smashing the headlight and crumpling the fender. An’gel marveled that the girl hadn’t been hurt, bu...
Diesel trailed hopefully in my wake, unaware that he was destined to remain home tonight. “What ho, Sherlock.” Stewart shot me a mischievous grin. “Whither art thou bound? And to what fell purpose?” “What on earth have you been reading, to spout dia...
I really thought I would have to dig deep to find anything juicy or helpful. Front-page headlines in a suburban Massachusetts newspaper, however, weren’t that hard to miss. I decided I should mention this to Penny Sisson. She needed to know that her staff hadn’t done a thorough enough job. ...
Perhaps I should come back another time. Things could be awkward if Sissy was really here. Diesel chirped at me, no doubt wondering why we still sat in the car. That decided me. Forge ahead. “Come on, boy.” I grabbed the bag with the plaque and held the door open for the cat. I clanged the ornate...
Dickce ignored An’gel’s imperious tone. “Come see for yourself.” Kanesha reached the cart while An’gel was still rising from the sofa. “Show me, please,” she said, her tone firm. Dickce pointed to the food tray. “Look under that.” ...
Why hadn’t I thought about talking to Miss Eulalie before now? “You’re right,” I said. “She’s an excellent source, and I should have considered it.” “You’re welcome,” Melba said. “Why don’t you call her right now? You could probably go and see her t...
The nurse appeared to be cleaning the wound while the doctor watched. The doc, an attractive woman in her forties, asked who I was, and before I could reply, Laura said, “My father.” I spotted the doc’s name embroidered on her lab coat: LEANN FINCH. The nurse, a chunky, short...