A Village Library

Chapter 1

It was the kind of day I liked best in the library. The building was full of students working on group projects, readers hanging out in the armchairs by the fireplace, and lots of little kids with their parents looking at picture books. Fitz, our library cat, was curled peacefully on the desk near me and glancing around the library with the same look of satisfaction that I’m sure I sported on my own face.

What was more, the equipment was all working smoothly. The computers throughout the building were running without a hitch, and even our finicky copier machine was on its best behavior. It was ordinarily the kind of copier that had multiple shenanigans a day (sometimes because of clueless patrons, but sometimes because the machine simply felt mischievous).

We were also well-staffed, so I wasn’t having to work the circulation desk and check out patrons’ books, but instead could be stationed at the reference desk.

I decided to spend my time unpacking the shipment of new books that had come in that morning. Seeing the new materials always made me smile, and it also gave me ideas for my own reading list. Processing the new books meant separating them into piles—some of the new titles needed to go to borrowers who had already requested the book.

I was unpacking new books for our fiction collection and one of them made me pause. I looked at the name on the cover and then flipped over to the back of the book.

“Something wrong with the shipment?”

I looked up to see my director, Wilson, standing there. I must have seemed confused because Wilson explained, “You were frowning.”

“Oh, it’s this book.” I handed it over to Wilson, who studied it carefully through his rimless glasses.

“It’s on the bestseller list, I know,” he said slowly. “I’ve heard about it.” He flipped the novel over to the back. “The author looks familiar. Have we had her in here to speak?”

I said, “She’s actually one of our regular patrons.”

Wilson took a closer look and slowly nodded. “Right. So her name is Sally Simmons. Sits over there, doesn’t she?” He waved vaguely toward the quiet study area in the far corner. He frowned, trying to remember more. “Wears a scarf, doesn’t she? I kept wondering if the air in the library was too chilly.”

I nodded. “She does wear a scarf—it looks homemade. I thought she was a grad student, or someone studying for a professional certification of some sort. She comes in with her laptop and is over there for hours in the quiet area.”

“Have you spoken much with her?”

“No, she keeps to herself. She always seems like she has a lot to do. She rarely stops by the desk. But I’ve seen her in here for months,” I said. I thought some more. “Actually, it could have been more than a year.”

Wilson handed the book back to me. “The novel is extremely well-reviewed. Let’s have her in here for an author event. She can speak, then we can have an audience Q&A.”

“And a signing?”

“I suppose so,” said Wilson. He was less fond of signings.

“Should we have refreshments? I think the budget will allow for them.”

Wilson was often rather tight with his budget but seemed to be picturing a large event this time. “Definitely. But let’s do it on the economical end. A fruit tray, pastries, coffee, that type of thing. Light snacks.”

“Got it. I’ll try to find contact information for Sally online.”

Wilson glanced over at the door. “Or just wait for her to come in.”

Sure enough, Sally was slipping through the door now. It was a testament to how frequently she was here that Wilson and I remembered her because she was a very inconspicuous person. She had dull sandy-blonde hair that she kept in a long, loose braid. And she was again wearing that homemade scarf. Perhaps she was very cold-natured.

I was about to move to the other side of the reference desk to catch up with her, but Wilson was a few steps ahead of me.

He called out, “Ms. Simmons.”

Sally stopped and turned, looking a bit combative for some reason as I joined Wilson.

Wilson continued, “We’ve just gotten a shipment of new books, and yours is one of them. We’re thrilled to have a bestselling author in our library.”

Sally relaxed a little, although she still looked wary. “Thanks.” A thin hand worried at the fringe on her scarf.

Wilson looked expectant, as if thinking she might continue, but apparently Sally wasn’t much in the mood to talk. He blinked and pushed his glasses farther up his nose. “Did you work on the book here in the library?”

Sally nodded. “That’s right.”

Wilson glanced at me. Since I’ve worked with him for years, I could tell what he was thinking. Would Sally be this taciturn during a library event? It boded ill for a talk if that were the case.

I cleared my throat. “I’m Ann and this is Wilson, my library director. We were wondering if you might be interested in us hosting an author event here at the library.”

Considering how short she’d been with her replies, I was thinking that her answer was going to be a quick no. But Sally’s eyes lit up.

“Here?” She glanced around the stacks.

Wilson seemed relieved at Sally’s reaction. “The event would actually be in our community room here. It’s a nice space, seats a fair number of people, and can adapt well for any type of talk. You could even hold a multimedia presentation there. Ann and I were just talking about the possibilities. We could offer some light refreshments for the attendees, have you speak a bit about yourself, your book, and your writing process, and then open it up to a question-and-answer session. Would that be something you might be interested in?”

Sally blinked at him with her big eyes. “Next week?”

“Well, we’d want to push it out a little longer than that, to give ourselves the opportunity to promote it,” said Wilson. “That way we could get a nice crowd here.”

Fitz trotted over to join us. He stopped in front of Sally, gazing solemnly at her.

She reached down and rubbed his fur.

“I see you know Fitz,” I said cheerfully.

Sally nodded, still looking down at the cat. “He comes over and visits me in the quiet area. He sits in my lap sometimes while I’m typing.”

I smiled. “It sounds a little awkward. Does he interfere with your writing?”

“He relaxes me, actually. I get more done when Fitz is around.”

Wilson looked impatient, ready to get the event locked down so that he could return to whatever paperwork he’d left to begin with. “Do you think having an event two weeks from now would work? On a Monday. That should give us enough time to get the word out and plan everything.”

Personally, I thought that was cutting it close, but I bit my tongue.

Sally considered this, and then carefully brought out her cell phone to check her calendar. “That will work out fine.” She paused. “You’ll be reaching out to the community, you said?”

Wilson nodded. “Ann here is a whiz with promotion. She has Fitz take part as part of her social media campaigns, and her posts get shared a lot more.”

Fitz gave a complacent feline smile, as if realizing the job he did was very important. Sally rubbed the cat again, and he raised his head so that she could scratch him under his chin.

Wilson said, “If you could, please give Ann your contact information so we can be in touch closer to time with more details. We’re looking forward to it.”

As Wilson strode back toward his office, Sally quickly provided her contact details. I’d sort of figured she’d pass the time with me for a few minutes, but she seemed eager to retreat to the quiet study area. “Thanks,” she said in a gruff voice and then disappeared into the stacks.

Fitz watched her as she went, as if thinking he wanted to follow her, but realizing she wanted to be alone. I settled myself back behind the reference desk and reached out to Fitz, who bounded up to join me.

I unpacked the rest of the boxes of books and started processing them into the computer system as well as for the shelves. After that, I figured I might as well get started with getting the event ready. Slightly over two weeks was really not much time at all. I blocked off the date and made a grocery list of things to pick up at the store when the time came.

The library doors opened and my boyfriend, Grayson, came in with a smile for me. My heart gave a little leap when I saw him. His blue eyes lit up when he spotted me. He was handsome but didn’t seem to care much about his looks. He was dressed as usual in jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

Luna, my coworker, always seemed to know when Grayson had entered the building. It’s almost as if she were somehow equipped with radar. She walked up to join us from the children’s department, which is where she works.

“Hey, you two,” said Luna in a playful voice. “What’s up?”

Grayson said, “I hoped you knew what was up. I’m actually at loose ends at work because there doesn’t appear to be that much to write up.”

Grayson was the editor of the local newspaper. He covered everything from hard news (which there was usually very little) to 100th birthday celebrations and everything in between.

Luna nodded. “I had a feeling there might be a dry spell for you in terms of news. It’s been very quiet around town lately. No festivals, no events, nothing much going on.”

“Which can be a good thing,” I reminded them, “except in terms of newspaper reporting. It’s good you showed up, though, Grayson. I have something for you. In fact, I was going to give you a call as soon as I started with promo.”

Luna’s wide eyes grew even wider. “Here? There’s something going on here? How did I miss that? When did that happen?”

“I think you were busy shelving. Anyway, have either of you read this book?” I picked it up from the desk and held it up. The cover design was fairly unique with the one-word title, Guilty, coming out of the fog.

Luna shook her head. “I’ve heard about it, though. It’s on my to-be-read list.”

Grayson said, “I bought it. The reviews said it was ‘wretched and enthralling’ or something like that. Those were a couple of adjectives that rarely go together, and it interested me enough to want to check it out.”

I turned the cover around and showed the back to Luna. There was a photo of Sally in a black dress, looking somewhat uncomfortable at having her picture taken. In the picture, she was attempting to smile, but her expression looked as though she’d just eaten something sour. I couldn"t imagine that was the best photo her photographer had captured.

Luna frowned and leaned in to take a closer look. “Hey, is that—well, I don’t know her name. Is she the woman who’s—” She pointed over to the quiet study area.

I nodded. “In the flesh.”

Grayson raised his eyebrows. “She’s local? Sally Simmons?”

“The very one. She wrote the book here in the library. From what I gather, anyway. She was here every day with her laptop for ages. Anyway, Wilson wanted her in for an event, so we just set that up with her for a couple of weeks from now.”

Luna made a face. “That’s not a lot of time for set-up.”

“You’re right. But you know how Wilson can be when he’s excited about something. It’s like he wants to do it right then. So that’s why I was about to ring you up, Grayson—to help get the word out. Think you can put a story in the newspaper to draw attention to the event?”

“You better believe I will. This qualifies as a huge story, especially considering the fact I don’t have anything else right now. The biggest story I had until you told me about this was coverage of the high school’s tennis team fundraiser. Even if I did have something else, this would still be big. I wonder if I can talk with Sally and get a quote or two for the paper, ahead of the event. What’s she like?”

I considered this. “Well, I don’t really know her, of course, regardless of the amount of time she’s spent here. She’s the kind of person who keeps to herself, I think. Sally didn’t speak to me at all during the last few months.”

“Not even to say good morning?” Luna looked a little indignant on my behalf at this.

I shook my head. “I figured she must have been studying or working on something very important and I didn’t want to bother here. When Wilson and I were speaking with her earlier, she couldn’t seem to get away fast enough from us. But then, she may be working on a follow-up book and trying to outline or draft it. I haven’t read Guilty myself, so that’s something else I need to do in the next couple of weeks.”

“What’s the format for the event?” asked Grayson.

“The way Wilson was talking, he wants her to speak first, then there’s an audience Q&A afterward. Pretty straightforward. I hope she’ll be able to talk for a while. She seemed as if she could be pretty quiet.”

Grayson said, “I’ll slip back there and see if she has a second to talk with me. Is anyone else in the quiet area?”

I shook my head and watched as Grayson headed to the back corner of the room. As taciturn as Sally had been, I wondered if he was going to be instantly rejected. But then, I supposed reporters were likely used to that.

I was taking pictures of Fitz with Sally’s book, when Grayson came back over.

“You must have had some luck,” I said.

He grinned at me. “You sound surprised.”

“I just didn’t get the impression that Sally was very excited about the event. I mean, she was interested in doing it, but she wasn’t exactly turning cartwheels.”

Grayson said, “She was definitely freezing me out until she realized I was with the newspaper and wanted to write an article to promote the event.”

“At least she’s wanting people there. That’s promising.”

“Since her book is a bestseller, I’m guessing she’s had plenty of interviews and appearances,” said Grayson.

“I’ll check online,” I said. “I know it’s only been a few weeks since the book’s been out. But I feel like I’d have caught on faster that she was a bestseller if she’d done a lot of interviews and events.”

Fitz, released from his duty as a book model, bumped his head against Grayson’s hand and Grayson absently scratched him under his chin. Then Fitz flopped on his back, asking Grayson to rub his tummy.

Grayson chuckled. “Now, that’s a sweet cat. I remember the tabby cat my parents had when I was growing up. It would have taken my hand off if I’d tried rubbing his belly.”

“Fitz is practically a therapy cat,” I said. “He makes people smile every day.”

I searched for Sally’s name online. The book itself came up a ton of times, in all formats and all sorts of retail sites. After a bit more searching, I said, “Well, I see she’s written a few blog posts for different websites, and there have been a couple of online interviews, but no videos. She doesn’t seem to have much of a presence on social media, either.”

“Do writers usually have a big profile?”

I looked up from my computer. “From what I understand, publishers like their authors to have a good-sized following online. In fact, they usually prefer to sign writers who already have a platform set up. I guess her book must have really blown them away.”

“You’ve got it on your reading list now?”

I nodded. “I’m reading Don Quixote, but I’m almost done. I’ll finish it up tonight so that I can start reading Guilty. I don’t have any time to waste to read it and come up with questions.”

“Was it Wilson’s idea to have the author event here?”

I said, “Oh, you know how he is. He likes things done yesterday. But I can definitely pull it together. It’s just going to be a busy couple of weeks.”