Caught Read-Handed Read Free

golfs with the head of the library board of trustees . . .”
    â€œSo she may be here more to please her husband than to help patrons.”
    â€œExactly. Oh, there she goes. She spends more time on cigarette breaks than being useful.”
    Sally’s eyes slid toward the doorway. I turned and saw Tanya Trouble moving through the doorway, tottering on her wedges with far less grace than Aunt Ophie on spike sandals. She had a cell already at her ear and was carrying a small, shiny object I couldn’t identify.
    â€œYou rarely see people smoking anymore,” I said to Sally, who laughed.
    â€œI’m not sure how much actual smoking Tanya does.Mostly she waves the hand holding her cigarette while she talks on her cell phone. We’ve requested that all smokers stand away from the entrance, and we reinforced that by putting the upright trash can with the ashtray top at the far corner of the building.”
    I shrugged off the smoking area as something I’d never noticed, and that pleased Sally to no end.
    â€œOut of sight, out of mind, even for the smokers. They come and go, never notice the ashtray so they don’t smoke outside the building. Who wants cigarette smoke overtaking the fresh scent of a breeze off the Gulf of Mexico?”
    I laughed. “Tanya Trouble, for one.”
    â€œI think she likes to show off that fancy lighter of hers. Claims her husband paid nearly a hundred thousand dollars for it as a gift for their first anniversary. She tells anyone who will listen that all those sparkly bits are hundreds of tiny diamonds and set in eighteen-karat white gold with platinum inlays. Carries it everywhere, even in nonsmoking spaces. Odd.”
    All this talk of cigarettes reminded me.
    â€œBy any chance does she drive a blue Corvette?”
    â€œShe left the top down again, right? Last week ashes were swirling around and flew right into a woman’s eye when she stepped out of her car. I’m going to have to speak to her about the car, and about Alan. Here she comes. See you soon.”
    I headed toward the door, and as I passed Tanya, I got a good look at the lighter in her hand. It seemed too flashy to be real gold and diamonds. I would have thought it came from the dollar store. No accounting for taste.
    In the parking lot, once I brushed away some ash thathad twirled from Tanya’s ashtray to my windshield, I dismissed her completely. I hurried back to the Read ’Em and Eat determined that as soon as the lunch rush was over, I’d call George Mersky to ask if he had a relative named Alan living in Florida.

Chapter Two ||||||||||
    Within five minutes of walking through the door of the Read ’Em and Eat and tying on my apron, I forgot all about Alan, the library and Tanya Trouble. We were that busy.
    Miguel had his
Old Man and the Sea
Chowder on the menu and from the way folks were ordering, I hoped he made enough.
    Maggie Latimer, owner of our local yoga studio, Zencentric, came in with a woman who was as tall and lithe as Maggie but with dark auburn hair cut in an adorable pixie in contrast to Maggie’s blond ponytail. They sat at the Robert Frost table. Maggie was pointing out the various Frost memorabilia laminated to the tabletop, copies of poems, pictures of the author, an article or two, when I brought over their menus.
    â€œSee the fruit poems, the one about apple picking and the one about blueberries?” Maggie pointed to the menusstill in my hand. “You’ll find Robert Frost Apple and Blueberry Tartlets on the menu and they are yummy.”
    As I set the menus on the table Maggie introduced me to her sister, Karen.
    â€œKaren is here for a month recovering from a too-long bout of pneumonia.”
    I welcomed Karen and she responded with an earnest smile.
    â€œMaggie tells me that besides scrumptious food, you also serve fascinating conversation at book club meetings. I look forward to attending one or two while I’m