Софи Келли - A Tale Оf Two Kitties

“That would make a great Christmas gift for my sister,” I said. “Where did you get it?”

“Grandpa got both of them for me from the bookstore, I think,” Mia said.

“Next time I’m down there I’ll go take a look,” I said. I got to my feet. It was time to get to work.

It turned out to be a busy morning. At least half of a grade-eleven English class came in looking for books on the reading list assigned by their teacher. Several of the quilters showed up to talk more about a possible quilt show in the new year.

I’d just helped a new mom find a copy of Love You Forever when I noticed Sandra Godfrey in the magazine section, one hand on her hip, studying the shelves. “Hi, Sandra, what can I help you find?” I asked.

“Oh, hi, Kathleen,” she said. “What happened to Scientific American ? It was right there.” She gestured to a magazine shelf at waist level.

“One more shelf to the right,” I said. “We added a new magazine in the Ps and it bumped everything sideways.”

Sandra tipped her head in the direction of the quilters, who were just heading out the door. “So are you going to hold the winter show here?”

“I hope so,” I said. “I think we have enough space.” I eyed her. “Do you quilt?”

She nodded and held up the copy of Scientific American she’d just lifted from the shelf. “You might say I’m a Renaissance woman,” she said with a grin.

I smiled back at her. “I’m impressed.”

“Have you made any progress on figuring out what to do with the photos from the post office?” Sandra asked.

“Yes. I should have called you,” I said. I explained about Maggie’s idea for framing everything and putting the photos and some of the mail that was found on display.

“I would like to see that since I was the one who delivered most of that mail.” Her lips twitched. “You probably heard about the card Thorsten got.”

I nodded. “I think the entire town has heard by now.”

Sandra brushed a bit of lint, or maybe it was cat hair, off her red sweater. Did she have cats? I wondered.

“Ella King got a note from her grandmother and it had one of those chocolate coins wrapped in foil inside. The chocolate was still intact.” Sandra rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to think about how many preservatives were in that thing.”

“Maggie’s still rounding up more of the mail for the exhibit,” I said. “But that has to be the weirdest piece so far. I hope Ella still has the chocolate.”

“Well, I don’t think she ate it, if that’s what you mean,” Sandra said. She glanced down at the cover of the magazine in her hand.

I remembered what Mary had told me. “I heard that Leo Janes got something,” I said. “Do you have any idea what?”

“That was odd,” Sandra said, shaking her head.

The blood was rushing in my ears. “What makes you say that?” I asked.

“He got an envelope with a key inside.”

“A key. You mean like a door key?”

Sandra shook her head. “I don’t think it was a door key but I really didn’t get a good look at it. All I know is it was a silver-colored key.”

“Why on earth would someone have sent Leo Janes a key in the mail?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “He didn’t seem to know, either. And the funny thing is, it was the last piece of mail to be delivered.”

I frowned at her. “Why?”

“There was an old change-of-address card from twenty years ago and somehow the letter ended up being sent there. Then it was rerouted a couple of times before it ended up back here. I heard Mr. Janes was in town, so when the letter came back I delivered it to him.” She cleared her throat. “The day before he died.”

“You’re sure?” I said. I could hear my pulse thudding in my ears again.

“Positive,” Sandra said. “It was my mother-in-law’s birthday. My husband and I drove into Minneapolis after work to celebrate with the family.”

Leo had received the mysterious key the day before he was killed. Was that important? Somehow I had the feeling it was.

• • •

Maggie called midmorning to see if we could have lunch so she could show me the proposed layout for the photo exhibit. We agreed to meet at Eric’s at one thirty. She was already inside when I got to the café, seated at our favorite table, going through the little ritual she followed when she made her tea.

As soon as I sat down Nic appeared at my elbow seemingly as if by magic and poured me a cup of coffee without even asking if I wanted one because we both knew I did. “Do you need a menu?” he asked.

Maggie shook her head.

Nic grinned. He put two fingers to his temple like a sideshow psychic. “Let me see,” he said. “I think you would both like a big bowl of . . . chili and . . . a plate of cornbread.”

I smiled at his mind-reading routine. “Please,” I said.

“It’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Are we getting too predictable?” Maggie asked.

“No,” I said, slipping out of my jacket. “We’re consistent.”

“We’ve had chili the last three times we’ve been here for lunch.”

“It’s not our fault the chili is so good. If we didn’t order it we might hurt Eric’s feelings and that would be wrong,” I said solemnly.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt Eric’s feelings,” she said. Then she laughed.

“So show me what you came up with,” I said.

Maggie pulled a brown envelope out of the messenger bag slung over the back of her chair. Inside were three sketches she’d made of three different layouts for the exhibit. We quickly settled on the second one and she spent the rest of the meal telling me what different people were doing with their frames.

“I have another idea, although I don’t know if it’s workable,” she said as she pushed back her empty bowl.

“What is it?” I asked, scooping the last bit of cornbread from the bottom of my dish.

“The post office gave the library those photos, right?” Maggie asked.

I nodded. “We’re becoming the repository for things people think the town needs to keep but that they don’t want to be responsible for. That’s how we got all the old yearbooks and the herbarium.”

“So you don’t have any obligation to keep all the photos?”

I leaned back in my chair. “No.”

She smiled. “Great. Then why can’t we auction off some of them to buy new books for the library? There are several gorgeous shots of the bluff.”

“I’d have to run it by Everett and the board,” I said slowly.

“We could put the framed photos up on the co-op’s website—I’m sure Ruby would agree. That would get you a wider audience.”

“I like it,” I said, grinning across the table at her.

We talked about the auction idea for a few more minutes and then Maggie looked at her watch. “I need to head for the store.”

“Lunch is on me,” I said.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Yes,” I said. “This was library business.” I got to my feet and reached for my jacket.

“I’ll get you photos of some of the frames that are already done, and I’ll talk to Ruby.”

I hugged her and she headed for the door while I went over to pay the bill. When I stepped outside I remembered what Mia had told me about her memory stick possibly coming from the bookstore. I had time. I decided I’d stop in and see if I could find one of the Hershey bar ones for Sara.

I was about to step inside the bookstore when the door opened and Victor Janes came out. He smiled when he caught sight of me. “Hello, Kathleen,” he said. “How are you?”

“Hello, Victor,” I said. “I’m well, how are you?”

“Under the circumstances I’m . . . I’m all right.”