Back in the car I examined the list of names for a moment while Diesel settled down on the passenger seat beside me. I might as well start with Julia, I reckoned. Seeing her in the picture had really knocked me for a loop. Her connections to this case were so strong, and though I was sure she had to be innocent of Godfrey’s murder, I knew her having been part of the writers’ group might make Kanesha Berry focus more intently on her.

Rick Tackett seemed like a stronger possibility in many ways. He was Godfrey’s half brother, for one thing, and as the library’s custodian, he had easy access to my office and to the archive storeroom. No one would have thought twice about it if he had been spotted upstairs near the storeroom on the evening when someone had obviously entered my office and examined the boxes.

I had to hope that whoever it was hadn’t destroyed the contracts. If Kanesha could find those in his—or her, I added, to be completely fair—possession, that would be an important link to the murder.

Surely, however, there were other copies of the contracts. Godfrey’s agent had to have copies. I brightened at that thought. The agent would be at Godfrey’s memorial service tomorrow. By then she would already have talked with Kanesha, and perhaps I could slip in a few questions without objection.

On the short drive home I pondered the questions I wanted to pose to the agent. How should I start? What preface to my questions could I use to disarm her enough to talk to me?

One big question occurred to me right away, and I knew I would have to be very careful in asking it. Did the agent know that Godfrey wasn’t writing the books himself?

Then I remembered that Kanesha would probably be asking her that question, not to mention countless others, tonight. I would try and see how far I could get.

Julia’s car was parked in front of the house, and Diesel and I found her in the kitchen. We exchanged greetings as I released Diesel from his harness. He went to greet Julia before trotting off to his litter box.

“I came to pick up Justin,” Julia said. “He’s coming home to have dinner with us, and he’ll probably spend the night.”

Justin often spent Friday nights with his parents, and that meant I had the house to myself one night a week. At least until the spring semester, I reminded myself. My other boarder would be back from his semester abroad then.

“How is Ezra doing?” I asked. “Would you like something to drink while you wait?” I went to the fridge for a diet drink.

“No, thank you, Justin should be down any minute,” Julia said. “Ezra is doing okay. Very happy to be home from the hospital, naturally.”