Striker looked up at me and our eyes met, sending a jolt through my heart. I was probably just scared he was going to arrest me. I ripped my eyes away from his in time to notice the bemused look on Pepper’s face as she flicked her eyes from me to Striker and back again.

Striker cleared his throat. “Thanks, but I already ate lunch. I have some questions about what you found in the library the other day.”

“Okay, fire away.” I remained seated and rudely didn’t invite him to join us.

Striker glanced at Pepper uncertainly.

“You can ask me in front of Pepper. She knows all about me finding Lavinia.”

Pandora jumped down from her bed on the window and started sniffing around Striker’s feet. He looked down at her, but didn’t shoo her away.

“Where was the body when you found it?” he asked.

“Same place it was when Augusta came. I didn’t touch it other than feeling for a pulse on her wrist.”

“And you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary or see or hear anything?”

“No.”

Pandora looked at me and cocked her head back toward Striker as if to tell me she approved. I glared at her in response. Don’t get used to him, he won’t be around much … I hope.

“And just what were you doing at the library?”

I blew out a puff of air, disturbing a red curl that was dangling down across my forehead. Hadn’t Augusta told him all this? “I was on my way to work, here, when I saw the lights on and the door open. I went in to investigate.”

“Mew Mew,” Pandora meowed. I wrinkled my brow at her—had her mew sounded like ‘me, too’?

Striker continued as if he hadn’t even heard the meow. “But you usually don’t come to work that early, do you?”

I started to feel uneasy. Had he been asking around about me like he would ask around about a suspect? “I do usually try to get in earlier, but things don’t always work out that way. That day I was a little late.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I see. And what were you doing behind the library yesterday?”

“I told you yesterday. I was getting my cat.” I pointed at Pandora who was now rubbing her face all over his ankles. To my surprise, he bent down to pet her.

Striker looked up at me from his crouched position. “Really? Are you sure that’s all it was? Because I heard you like to get involved in cases and I don’t need an amateur messing things up with this one.”

Amateur?

“I was a pretty good crime journalist down south. In fact, there’s more than one case that probably wouldn’t have been solved without my help,” I said indignantly, even as my traitorous cat purred loudly at his hands.