"So, you're a librarian?"
She returned to filling the cups with steaming, fragrant tea. "Yes, up in Jacksonville for forty years. I'm retired now, but I think I'm going to volunteer with the Friends of the Dead End Library. I like to keep my hand in, you know."
She placed the cup in front of me and nudged a tray with milk and sugar in silver bowls toward me.
I added a little sugar and milk to my tea, stirred, and took a sip. "Mmm. That's delicious. Just the thing on a cold night. What kind of tea is it? I know a pixie who would adore this."
Her eyes widened. "An actual pixie? One of the faeries?"
"Yes. Her name is Frazzle, and she got swept up in an interdimensional portal and landed in a flowerpot on my front porch. Long story." I sipped more tea. "But she drops by sometimes to visit my cat, and she'd love this."
"It's jasmine tea infused with marigold honey from my own hives. And how wonderful that you know a pixie well enough that she comes to visit." She sighed happily. "I love Dead End. I wish I'd moved here long ago."
The back door slammed open, and I heard one set of heavy boots clomping up the stairs and another heading for the kitchen. I froze, tea in hand, not knowing what to do, but then Emeril walked into the kitchen with a frown on his face.
"He's being a dang fool," he began, but then he caught sight of me and sent me a strained smile. "Why, Tess Callahan. What brings you out here?"
"I brought you a casserole. Oh, and it's from Rooster too. I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Peterson. Please give my condolences to your brother, too. If you need anything …" I trailed off, thinking about the conversation I'd heard the night before. Was it even possible that Emeril Peterson was a murderer?
Acousinmurderer?
No. I couldn't believe it.
"Thank you, Tess. Rooster sent a ham, too."
"What did Harold say?" Miss Lovesberry—Angela—put a hand on Emeril's arm. "Is he okay with us?"
Emeril's cheeks flushed, and I hopped up. "Um, I should go. Please take care, and I hope, ah—"
Angela waved her hands. "No, no, finish your tea. It's not a secret. Emeril and I have been seeing each other, and he finally stayed overnight Saturday night and got to work late Sunday. But the silly lug hadn't told his brother about it out of some notion of protecting my honor, and they were fighting about it."
Emeril's face was now fiery red, and from the heat in my cheeks, mine were probably the same. I really,reallydidn't need to know anything about Mr. Peterson's love life.
He cleared his throat a couple of times. "Um. Yes. Well, Tess, thank you for the casserole. We'll enjoy that tonight, because tomorrow we're heading up to Nashville for the funeral."
"Yes! I—yes!" I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. "Please drive safely. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Lovesberry. Good night."
They called out good nights and goodbyes, but I was already halfway down the hall and then out the door, racing away before the feisty librarian could share any other details about their love life.
Argh.
How was I going to look her in the face at the Friends of the Library meetings?
It took me so long to get over my embarrassment that I was halfway home before I realized the second and far more important implication of Emeril's night of romance with his new lady love:
He had an alibi for the time of the murder.
A knot of worry immediately followed my sigh of relief. One suspect cleared, but that only put more suspicion on Rooster and his two-hour breakfast cooking, and I still didn't know what to do about that.
When I stopped at a stop sign, I glanced down at my phone. No messages or missed calls, so Phin hadn't called me back yet, and I didn't know what to do about that, either.
When I arrived at home, there were three cats in my living room, but only one was currently furry. Jack sat on the couch, petting Lou, and Jed sat on the armchair, gleefully flipping through channels on my TV before yelling "aha!" and settling on one. He liked to say that he had a lot of history to catch up on, after three centuries stuck in a statue, but I wasn't sure how a rerun ofThe Amazing Racewas going to do it.
It was a great show, though, so I didn't mind.
Jack eased Lou aside and stood to give me a hug, which I was happy to return with interest. Jack's embrace felt like home, and I closed my eyes and breathed in his uniquely Jack scent of forest and sunshine andJack.
"Why are you here? I'm happy to see you—both of you—but I thought you and Grandpa Jed had an errand to run."
