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a-wasting, but my politeness reflex kicked in (thanks so much, Mom) and I picked up the receiver.
    â€œMs. Hamilton?” asked a warm male voice.
    I leaned back, smiling. “Deputy Wolverson. How may I help you this morning?”
    â€œI’m feeling stressed and overworked,” he said. “No, hang on. It’s you that’s feeling stressed and overworked, isn’t it? Either way, I think it would benefit both of us to take the day off and do as little as possible.”
    Since I could hear office noises in his background, I knew he was at work and wasn’t about to run off into the sunset with me, but the idea was interesting. “Sounds good,” I said. “How about I pick you up in the bookmobile in two hours? No one will know that I’m not making my appointed rounds.”
    â€œIsn’t that the post office?”
    â€œWe have a lot in common.”
    He laughed. “I bet you go out in weather the mail carriers wouldn’t touch. But believe it or not, I didn’t call to entice you into an unplanned play day.”
    â€œWell, rats. I’d already shut down my computer,” I said, expecting him to laugh again, and was surprised when he didn’t.
    â€œSorry.” His voice was sliding into formal cop mode. This was not a deeper voice, but was slower, measured, with sentences that were simple and direct. I’d been told that he’d had a severe stuttering issue as a kid, but I’d never detected a trace of it. “The city police chief,” he said, “has contacted Andrea Vennard’s family. Her name is being released to the press.”
    My emotions sagged. “Thanks for letting me know.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    â€œDoes this mean I’m free to talk about this?”
    â€œSure,” he said.
    I perked up a little; I’d detected a definite move out of cop speak. “Do you have any idea what happened?”
    â€œMinnie . . .”
    â€œI know, I know. You can’t talk about an active investigation.” I thought a moment. “How about this: Is it safe to be alone in the library late at night?” It hadn’t been until last night, when I was working late, that I’d thought about the bad guy coming back. Something else I wasn’t going to tell my mother.
    â€œSafe?” he repeated. “Is anywhere truly safe?”
    â€œAsh . . .”
    â€œI know,” he said. “Most people are good folks, and I shouldn’t assume that bad guys lurk behind every corner.”
    It was a conversation that, in the short time we’d been together, we’d already had multiple times.
    â€œExactly,” I said.
    â€œThat doesn’t mean the bad guys aren’t out there,” he pointed out.
    â€œBut it also means the vast majority of the corners don’t have bad guys anywhere close by.”
    Ash was silent for moment, then said, “But there was a bad guy, Minnie. And he was in your library.”
    Yes, he had been. And how icky did that make me feel? Very. “I know.”
    After a few beats, he said, “Take care, Minnie. You set for tomorrow morning?”
    â€œBright and early. And, Ash? Thanks for caring.”
    â€œNo problem, ma’am,” he said. “You have a good day, now.”
    Smiling, I hung up the phone and picked up my empty coffee mug. How I’d managed to down a full mug of Kelsey’s brew in such a short time, I wasn’t sure.
    Holly was in the break room, opening up a plastic tub. “Leftovers from the last day of school,” she said. “Have at it.”
    I peered in and pulled out the smallest brownie. Holly’s treats were the stuff of legend, and it wouldn’t do to offend the creator. “Ash called,” I said, after swallowing the chocolatey goodness. “They’re releasing the name of the woman who was killed.”
    Holly sat heavily. “I don’t like to think that someone