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character.
    “—the cleaners finished around ten last night. There was no stiff on the floor when they left.”
    She nodded.
    “Who else might be expected to find the guy? Other librarians?”
    She shook her head. “I always open up. I’m the only full-time librarian in town.”
    “Anybody else in city hall?”
    “A few people have keys to the library, but they wouldn’t go in first thing in the morning. There’d be no reason to.”
    “So, we have to assume whoever put the body there knew you’d find it. And do you think it was significant that the body was in the art section?”
    “You think the killer was an art lover?”
    He put down his knife and fork and contemplated her. “Alex, I don’t know squat about this town, but I think you need to watch your back.”
    She repressed a shiver. “I think a couple of creepy guys had an argument and one shot the other. It could have happened anywhere and the body was tossed into the library to get it out of plain sight while the killer or killers drove off. They’re a thousand miles away by now.” She started on her salad. “Are you trying to scare me so I’ll throw myself in your arms for protection?”
    His eyes crinkled all too attractively when he almost, but not quite, smiled at her. “I never resort to cheap tricks to get a woman in bed. You’ll get there in your own time.”
    Don’t even acknowledge his colossal arrogance. You’ll only encourage him.
“How’s your steak?”
    “Fantastic. So, tell me what a woman like you is doing in a dinky little town like this?”
    Maybe it wasn’t the change of subject she’d prefer, but she could live with it. “It was my grandparents’ home. My father’s an executive with an international oil company so we moved around all over the world. By my mid-teens I’d lived in the Middle East, Africa, South America, and all over Europe, including a stint in boarding school. I was sick of it, so I came here to live with my grandparents. After grad school, my grandfather wrote that the librarian job was open, so I applied.”
    “You with your master’s degree.”
    So, he remembered that. “Yes. I wanted to look after my grandfather after my grandmother was gone. He passed away a couple of months ago.” She blinked suddenly and took a sip of wine.
    “I’m sorry.” He touched her hand, and the warmth felt good. “Did your parents retire here?”
    “No. They’re in Europe. Stateside, there were only my grandparents, my aunt who’s living in a hippie commune in Montana, and my cousin and me.”
    On top of a bad day, she didn’t want to think about her pathetic family story. “Grandpa was old, but he was in such good health that it was a shock when he died suddenly.”
    “Was he ill?”
    “No. A heart attack.” She sighed. “They practically brought me and my cousin up. Well, her mom abandoned her not long after she was born. Mine relied on nannies until I was old enough to fly home for summers.”
    “How old was that?”
    “Twelve. I spent nearly every summer here. It was a lot more like home than the homes and apartments my parents lived in.”
    “Sounds miserable.”
    She smiled. “Sounds like I’m whining. I don’t mean to. It’s hard on a kid to have no roots. When I was sixteen, I rebelled and finished high school here.”
    “Do you ever see them?”
    “My parents? Oh, yes. I joined them for Christmas last year in Prague.” And she’d never make that mistake again.
Alexandra, that dress is vulgar. 
Darling, you’ve got too much cleavage for décolletage.
    On New Year’s Eve she’d had her navel pierced.

4
    “Why do you dress that way?” Duncan asked.
    She’d driven him back to the summer cottage which he was renting by the month since it was off-season. She’d left the car engine running and thanked him for lunch, but he seemed interested in carrying on their chat and, once again, asking her a very personal question.
    She glanced down at herself—not that she’d forgotten she was