Candy Cane Murder (Hannah Swensen #9.5)(85)

The librarian looked up from the cards she was sorting at the main desk when Lucy entered. She was a white-haired crone but she greeted Lucy with a warm smile and a cheery hello. “Are you interested in anything particular?” she asked, eager to be helpful.

“Not really,” said Lucy.

“Ah,” said the old woman, looking at her shrewdly. “Just need a bit of a distraction?”

“That’s it exactly,” said Lucy.

“You’re new in town, aren’t you? You and your husband bought that old farmhouse on Red Top Road, right?”

Lucy was amazed. “How’d you know?”

The old woman flapped a veined and spotted hand. “It’s a small town,” she said, with a shrug. “You’ve taken on quite a challenge with that place. I understand the building inspector was just about to condemn it.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Lucy. “But my husband is determined to fix it up.”

“Well, more power to him.”

Lucy smiled ruefully. “He’ll need it.”

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“It must be difficult for you,” said the librarian, nodding at Lucy’s tummy. “Especially with a toddler on your hands.”

Lucy was taken by surprise at the woman’s directness and was embarrassed to feel tears pricking at her eyes. She turned away, blinking furiously. “I’m managing,” she finally said.

“Oh, dear,” fretted the old woman, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s been a difficult day,” admitted Lucy, wiping her eyes with a crumpled tissue she found in her coat pocket.

“Well, I have just the thing,” said the librarian, coming round the desk and taking her by the elbow. “Come on into my office. I have a comfortable chair there and I can give you a cup of tea. Would you like that?”

“I’d love it,” said Lucy.

It was warm and toasty in the office and the librarian, who introduced herself as Miss Tilley, brewed a bracing cup of tea. Lucy found herself downing several cups as she related the day’s mishaps and actually found herself laughing as she described her struggles with the oven.

“I very much doubt that Sears will get to you before Christmas,” said Miss Tilley, nodding sagely. “There’s just the one repairman and I happen to know he’s flat out.”

“That’s too bad,” said Lucy, her face sinking. “I really wanted to make those cookies.”

“Why not make them at my house?” suggested Miss Tilley.

“My oven’s working fine.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you to the trouble,” demurred Lucy. “Besides, I can’t really leave my little boy.”

“Bring him along. I love children.”

Lucy looked at the prim old lady, in her spotless white blouse with a cameo pin at the neck and her dark plaid skirt.

“I don’t think …”

“Nonsense. I’ll expect you bright and early tomorrow. At eight. That will give us plenty of time because the library 290

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doesn’t open until three on Thursdays.” She peered at her through her wirerimmed glasses. “You know where I live?”

Lucy suddenly felt inadequate. “I know I should but I’m afraid …”

“No reason you should know. You just moved here. I’m on Parallel Street, which is aptly named because it’s parallel to Main Street, at the corner of Elm. Do you know it?”

“I do,” said Lucy.

“And now, before you leave, perhaps I could suggest a few books. Do you enjoy mysteries?”

Lucy’s spirits were much brighter as she drove home. She had a small stack of well-thumbed mystery novels on the seat beside her and she was taking a different route, following Miss Tilley’s directions. It took her along Shore Road, past enormous summer cottages perched high above the bay. The view of rocky shore studded with tall pines, the dazzling expanse of blue ocean and the overarching blue sky was absolutely spectacular and Lucy began to feel once again that living in Maine wasn’t so terrible after all.

New York City had nothing like this, in fact, the city could be pretty depressing sometimes. The subway smelled awful, the streets were full of litter, there was graffiti everywhere, and you couldn’t walk down the street without having to step over at least one homeless person. And most important of all, Bill had truly been miserable at his job and that was something she couldn’t tolerate. More than anything she wanted him to be happy.

Coming to the end of Shore Road, Lucy turned onto Packet Road which Miss Tilley assured her would eventually lead her to her own Red Top Road after she passed a cluster of houses. Lucy was exploring this new territory with interest and when she noticed a sign advertising a yard sale she impulsively pulled off the road and followed the hand-drawn arrow down a narrow dirt track of a driveway, eventually coming to a stop in front of a ramshackle log cabin. With a CANDY CANES OF CHRISTMAS PAST

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sagging porch and broken windows patched with cardboard and rags, it seemed to be in even worse shape than her house.

Undaunted, she turned off the ignition and got out of the car, eager to see what bargains she might find. Lucy had discovered soon after moving to Maine that yard sales offered the biggest bang for the buck, and a buck was just about all she had to spend. You never knew what might turn up, maybe she’d find a present for Bill, or a toy she could recycle for Toby. He wouldn’t mind if it didn’t come in a box, brand new.