Read Sink Trap for Free Online Page B

of power machinery, but it couldn’t do everything. Some of the work had to be done by hand, and that was what I would be doing later today.
    Another fact of the apprentice life: If there was ditch digging, or trenching, or pipe hauling to be done, the apprentice—in this case, me—got the job.
    My stomach grumbled again, and I pushed the McComb job to the back of my mind. No sense worrying about something I couldn’t change. Better to concentrate on something I could.
    Less than a half hour later I was back in the car and headed for the library. The dogs had protested, claiming the few minutes I had taken to nuke a couple slices of leftover pizza and wolf them down was an inadequate visit to the backyard, but I had overruled them.
    The Pine Ridge Library was a small clapboard building on the corner of the high school campus. The size was deceptive, though. Pine Ridge had joined the regional library association, and had access to all the materials of several larger libraries.
    In that, the library was a miniature of Pine Ridge itself. Outside the metropolitan area, small and seemingly insignificant, Pine Ridge still had access to all the amenities of a large city. Within an hour’s drive there was an international airport, shopping, movies, several well-respected universities, and live theater.
    Not to mention one of the best bookstores in the world.

    I hadn’t been to Powell’s City of Books in several weeks. Time to plan a trip into Portland.
    First, though, I wanted to find out about the brooch in my pocket, and Paula Ciccone was the one person I knew I could trust. She was Miss Tepper’s closest friend in Pine Ridge, and she would calm the suspicions that cropped up every time I looked at that cameo, and wondered about how it got in that drain pipe.
    Just inside the front door, the check-in basket sat on the high wood counter, a few books stacked in the bottom of the basket. The revolving rack of stamps had been replaced by a computer terminal, and Paula was logging the returns into the library system.
    She looked up at the sound of the door, a quick glance over the top of her reading glasses. When she saw me, a smile of welcome spread across her round face.
    She tapped a couple keys, and put a small pile of books on the return cart. Her glasses slid off her nose, held by a beaded chain against her ample chest, and her eyes twinkled.
    “What brings you here in the middle of the day?” she asked, coming around the tall counter and giving me a hug. Paula hugged the way most people shook hands. She said she’d never met anyone who didn’t deserve a hug.
    I followed her to the table in the back of the building, where a coffeepot and mugs waited for visitors. That hadn’t changed, either. I had started drinking coffee when I was in my early teens, sneaking a cup when I didn’t think Miss Tepper was looking.
    I poured my coffee, and took the brooch out of my pocket. I didn’t have a lot of time, and I wanted to get right to the point of my visit.
    I set the brooch on the table, and waited for her reaction.
    Paula’s eyes widened in shock. She reached out to touch it, then drew her hand back, as though she was afraid it would burn her fingers.

    “Miss Tepper’s brooch! How did you get it?”
    Funny how she could ask the exact same question as my mother, and mean something entirely different. Instead of feeling accused, I felt as though Paula was genuinely concerned about where the brooch had been.
    I gave her a quick explanation of the previous day’s events. Her brow furrowed with worry as I told her about finding the brooch in the sink trap.
    I mentioned that I had found it just before Barry headed home for dinner.
    She slapped her palm against her forehead, and rolled her eyes. “That’s what he was talking about!” She looked embarrassed for a second. “Barry was going on about something when he got home,” she explained with a nervous little laugh. “I was trying to get his dinner on the table, and