Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

PRAISE FOR LENDING A PAW

“A charming start to the new Bookmobile Cat series. Librarian Minnie Hamilton is kindhearted, loyal, and resourceful. And her furry sidekick, Eddie, is equal parts charm and cat-titude.”

— New York Times bestselling author Sofie Kelly

“Lending a Paw is a pleasurable, funny read. Minnie is a delight as a heroine, and Eddie could make even a staunch dog lover more of a cat fan.”

— RT Book Reviews

“This first in the series charms with a likable heroine, feisty and opinionated cat, and multidimensional small-town characters.”

—Kings River Life Magazine

“[A] nice introduction for a new mystery series titled the Bookmobile Cat Mysteries.”

—Gumshoe

Also by Laurie Cass

Lending a Paw

Tailing a Tabby

A BOOKMOBILE CAT MYSTERY

Laurie Cass

AN OBSIDIAN BOOK

OBSIDIAN

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

New York, New York 10014

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penguin.com

A Penguin Random House Company

First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

Copyright © Janet Koch, 2014

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

ISBN 978-1-101-63843-9

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Praise

Also by Laurie Cass

Title page

Copyright page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

To Jon.

Always.

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, I’d imagined my adulthood would include a bright purple bicycle, a daily dish of ice cream, hair that would do whatever I wanted it to, and lots of books.

Fast-forward to my present age of thirty-three. These days, my bicycle was a silvery green, my ice cream had turned into fruits and vegetables, and my black curly hair still refused to obey any command I gave it.

I glanced into the small round mirror above the windshield and grinned at what I saw behind me. At least I’d gotten the books part right.

“Hey, Minnie, did I tell you that if I ever get a tattoo, it’ll be a cherry blossom?”

Of course, my childhood vision of a bookish future hadn’t taken into account that the books would be on a bookmobile, that I’d be driving said bookmobile, that I’d be accompanied by a teenage volunteer, or that my—

“Mrr.”

—that my recently acquired cat, Eddie, would have become a fixture on the bookmobile. “There is no way,” I told him, “that you’re getting a tattoo. Thessie can do whatever she wants, assuming her parents approve.”

Eddie didn’t respond, but Thessie did. “I still don’t get why you haven’t told your boss about the Edster. He’s the sweetest, most adorable cat ever.” She leaned forward and stretched her long fingers into the cat carrier resting under her feet.

Though he’d originally been a bookmobile stowaway, Eddie had been an instant hit with the patrons. It had quickly become obvious that he was going to be a permanent addition to the bookmobile, so I’d bought a proper carrier and retired the picnic basket I’d first used for cat transportation. Eddie had acclimated to the change with an ill grace that had been eliminated with an offering of his favorite cat treats.

“Yes, you are,” Thessie cooed, scratching the side of his face, “you’re sweet and purry and so very furry.”

“Exactly,” I muttered. My boss, Stephen Rangel, the director of the Chilson District Library, was a stickler for rules, cleanliness, and propriety. And not necessarily in that order. “If Stephen finds out about Eddie, he’ll use cat dander as an excuse to end the program.”

From the moment I’d dreamed up the idea of a bookmobile, Stephen had done his best to shoot it down. Homebound patrons could download e-books from the library’s Web site, he’d said. There was no reason to spend the money on something so outrageously expensive. It just wasn’t needed, he’d said.

Thanks to a donation from a wealthy—and now sadly deceased—library patron, the bookmobile’s cost, outfitting, and first year of operational expenses weren’t a matter of concern for the library’s board of directors. Unfortunately, a source for the second year of expenses hadn’t yet materialized.

In the financial fantasy world that I visited occasionally, I’d find a solid revenue stream that would support operations perpetually. When I took even wilder flights of fancy, I’d find enough money to hire a part-time bookmobile assistant. Thessie was going back to her senior year of high school in a few more weeks, and it would be far easier to hire a replacement than to find another reliable volunteer.

“What are you thinking about?” Thessie asked. “Your face is going all squinchy.”

I thought about telling her my monetary concerns. After all, she was considering library science as a college major. Maybe I should tell her about the harsh realities of library life. About fiscal woes and endless meetings and the occasional twenty-three boxes of National Geographic magazine left on the doorstep like twenty-three foundlings. Then again, this intelligent and attractive young woman was thinking about going into library science. Who was I to discourage her?

“Dinner,” I said. “There’s nothing but some sad-looking lettuce in the fridge.”

Thessie gave Eddie’s chin one more scratch and sat up, her long, dark hair sliding back over her shoulders. “You were not thinking about dinner. You were still thinking about your boss and the bookmobile.”

And someday her intelligence was going to get her into trouble.

“What I don’t get,” she went on, “is why Mr. Rangel hasn’t changed his mind. I mean, we’re doing great out here!” She flung out her arms at the rolling countryside. “Every week we’re getting more people to come to the bookmobile and they’re checking out more and more books. Plus, people are signing up for library cards, like, every day, and soon we’re going to start the contest.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. The contest had been her idea from top to bottom, including the ultimate prize of the bookmobile stopping at the winner’s house. The idea was brilliant, and I was glad to give her full credit. “Why doesn’t he see how cool this is?” she asked.

“Because he’s a…” Just in time I stopped myself from saying an unkind word. “Because he’s the library director. Because he’s thinking about repairs and maintenance and breakdowns and the cost of replacing the vehicle.”