Requiem for a Mouse (Cat in the Stacks Mysteries, Band 16) - Softcover

Buch 16 von 17: Cat in the Stacks Mystery

James, Miranda

 
9780593199541: Requiem for a Mouse (Cat in the Stacks Mysteries, Band 16)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593199545 ISBN 13: 9780593199541
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

Librarian Charlie Harris and his ever-intuitive feline friend, Diesel, must catch a killer in a deadly game of cat and mouse where no one is who they seem to be....

At last, Charlie and Helen Louise’s wedding is only a month away. They’re busy preparing for the big day, and the last thing Charlie needs is a new mystery to solve. Enter Tara Martin, a shy, peculiar woman who has recently started working part-time at Helen Louise’s bistro and helping Charlie in the archive. Tara isn’t exactly friendly and she has an angry outburst at the library that leaves Charlie baffled. Soon after, she abruptly leaves a catered housewarming party Charlie’s son, Sean, is throwing to celebrate his new home—in the middle of her work shift. Before ducking out of the party, Tara looked terrified and Charlie wonders if she’s deliberately trying to escape notice. Is she hiding from someone?

When Tara is viciously attacked and lands in the hospital, Charlie knows his instincts were correct: Tara was in trouble and someone was after her. With the help of his much beloved cat, Diesel, Charlie digs deeper, and discovers shocking glimpses into Tara’s past that they could never have predicted. Will they catch the villain before Charlie’s own happily ever after with Helen Louise is ruined?

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Miranda James

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

One

I felt the delicate touch of a tongue in my ear. At the same time a warm, furry body nestled against my head. I suppressed a groan as I detached the cat and set him aside on the bed.

"Thank you for your kiss," I said to the affectionate Ramses, the younger of my two felines. I threw off the covers and sat up. Ramses rubbed against my side and offered a plaintive meow.

A glance at the clock showed me that I had overslept. I must have forgotten to set my alarm last night. It was nearly seven o'clock, and normally on a workday I was up at six.

"Where's Diesel?" I looked at Ramses as if he could tell me the whereabouts of my Maine Coon cat. Ramses meowed again, a mournful sound. "Well, if you're that hungry, you should have gone downstairs with Diesel and found something to eat. I have to hurry."

Ramses jumped off the bed and disappeared through the slightly ajar bedroom door into the hall. I went into the bathroom, disrobed, and turned on the shower.

Twenty minutes later I entered the kitchen. Diesel, the Maine Coon, greeted me with a warble. Azalea Berry, the formidable septuagenarian who ran my household like a well-oiled machine, stood at the stove. Without turning, she said, "I guess that little scamp woke you up like I told him to."

"Yes, he did. I forgot to set my alarm last night." I took my usual place at the kitchen table. Azalea set a plate in front of me. Scrambled eggs; two sausage patties; a large spoonful of her thick, cheesy grits; and two pieces of buttered wheat toast lay before me. I picked up my fork and started eating. Azalea poured a cup of coffee. I felt completely spoiled, but Azalea resisted any attempts on my part to cut back on breakfast. She insisted it was the most important meal of the day, and I couldn't argue with her.

Besides, as I had often admitted to myself, I loved her breakfast meals. I really didn't want to miss one. I would rather have had breakfast than any other meal. The fact that she generally prepared lunch and dinner as well during the week was another matter entirely.

"How's that new girl at the library working out?" Azalea remained in place at the stove, but she had turned to regard me with approval as I ate.

"She's a good worker," I said after I swallowed a mouthful of grits. "Odd, though. I really can't get hold of her personality. She blurts out things without thinking, and they're usually not particularly tactful." I had to suppress a laugh. "The first day she worked, she told Melba she thought the green dress she had on made her look like a cucumber." Melba Gilley, my friend since childhood, was the administrative assistant to the Athena College library director.

"My goodness," Azalea said, taken aback. "I don't see that going over well."

"It didn't." Melba's expression could have curdled milk. "She told Tara that she loved cucumbers, turned on her heel, and left the room." I explained that Tara Martin was the young woman's name. "Tara didn't appear to realize she had said anything wrong. Melba's tone apparently didn't register with her."

"She said anything like that to you?" Azalea asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Several times," I replied, "but never anything really unpleasant." Her remark about my puffing a little as we reached the top of the stairs at work had nettled me a bit. I didn't feel in the least like a tired steam engine. I shared that with Azalea.

"That child needs to learn some manners." She turned back to the stove.

"She needs to learn not to blurt things out," I said after a bite of toast. "She can think what she likes, but her lack of tact puts people's backs up. The thing is, she doesn't seem to realize what she's done."

"She tries much more of that with Melba, she'll learn." Azalea dished up another breakfast plate and set it on the table across from me. She had apparently heard someone coming downstairs. I had been too intent on my eating to notice.

"Good morning, Charlie, Azalea. Boys." Stewart Delacorte, my longtime boarder, flashed his attractive smile at us as he swept into the room. "Azalea, you're a marvel. I didn't think I made that much noise coming down the stairs." He indicated his plate.

"My hearing's as sharp as it ever was." Azalea fixed him with her gimlet gaze, and Stewart grinned broadly.

"Of course," he said as he dug into his grits.

Azalea poured coffee in his cup, and he added cream to it. "I'm not as old and decrepit as some people like to think."

I noticed a certain heat in her words, and I wondered who had dared imply something like that. After a moment's reflection, I decided it must have been her daughter, chief deputy of the Athena County Sheriff's Department.

Stewart, braver than I was when it came to teasing Azalea, promptly said, "Is Kanesha out of the hospital yet?"

Azalea snorted. "She's lucky she didn't end up there." She threw a towel down on the counter and marched out of the room. She came right back, however, and set a plate of bacon on the table. She had cooked that for Diesel and Ramses, mostly. Then she disappeared again.

Stewart and I exchanged amused glances. Kanesha Berry had been trying for years to get her mother to retire. Kanesha didn't like the thought of her mother still working in her seventies, but Azalea was even more strong-minded than her daughter. Azalea had taken care of my aunt Dottie in her declining years. After I inherited the house, Azalea informed me that she intended to keep taking care of the house-and me-until the day she no longer could. I didn't argue, because she intimidated me. Not so much as she used to, but I didn't dare cross her, and she knew it.

"I guess Haskell is already up and at work," I said, referring to Stewart's partner, a sheriff's deputy, who shared the suite on the third floor of the house.

Stewart nodded and swallowed. "He had to be at work at seven. I'm hoping that nothing happens to cause him to have to work late. We don't want to miss the big shindig out at the farmhouse tonight."

"For both your sakes, I hope nothing interferes with your plans." I had been doling out bites of bacon to the cats, and in between I managed to gulp down the rest of my breakfast. I was going to be a few minutes late to the office.

I got up from the table and set my empty plate in the sink. After swallowing the last of my coffee, I told Diesel it was time for work. He accompanied me almost everywhere, and he loved going to the office. He knew Melba would be there, and he adored her. She lavished affection on him every time she saw him, even multiple times a day. We bade Stewart and Ramses goodbye and left the kitchen.

The mid-January day was chilly and overcast, so I decided that we would take the car today instead of walking the short distance to the Athena College campus as we did in more comfortable weather. Stewart kept Ramses occupied with bits of bacon while we sneaked out the back door into the garage. Diesel hopped into the backseat of the car, and soon we arrived at the old antebellum mansion that held the library's administrative offices and the archives and rare-book collection. I worked three days a week as archivist and rare-book cataloger, a job I thoroughly enjoyed.

Diesel and I entered the building through the back door, and he ambled ahead of me to Melba's office. I caught up with him, and he turned to me, meowing in disappointment. Melba wasn't there.

"Come on, boy. We'll catch her later." I started up the stairs, and he trotted quickly ahead. I glanced at my watch. We had arrived only seven minutes late.

Tara Martin stood at the door. She flashed a quick scowl at me before averting her face as she usually did. She rarely looked directly at me. "Now I can't put in my full two hours," she said before I could greet her and apologize for arriving late. "I can't stay to make...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2025
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593199545
ISBN 13 
9780593199541
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
305
Kontakt zum Hersteller
BERKLEY
https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY

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