For all of them, the first thing I’d try would be social media, but while I’d had some success with that in the past, it wasn’t what you might call reliable, and besides, I didn’t envision John Pinnock as a computer kind of guy. You never knew, of course, but I just didn’t see it.

I let my mind wander, trying to come up with methods of information gathering and not getting much of anywhere. Maybe this was the wrong way to go about it. Maybe instead I should be trying to find out if any of them had alibis for the time of Pug’s murder. But . . . how?

Sighing, I rearranged my feet, trying to regain some circulation without disturbing the feline presence.

Trying to find a murderer was complicated. No wonder the police used a team of people to do it. And no wonder the sheriff was always concerned about the budget. I could see a murder investigation requiring hours and hours of overtime.

Thinking about overtime costs made me think about the library’s budget, which in turn made me think about my personal budget, which brought me smack up to something I’d wanted to talk to Rafe about for months, but which he kept pushing off.

I waited for a break in the television action and pushed the remote’s pause button. “Remember last fall, when I moved in? You said to talk to you about paying for my share of the house when my student loans were paid off.”

He plucked the remote from my hand. “It’s within a month of your last payment. Doesn’t count.”

Ignoring him, I said, “I need to be paying half. Two-thirds if we count Eddie.”

We looked at the length of purring fur on our legs.

“He’s part of your dowry,” Rafe said. “Added value.”

I frowned. What value was that, exactly? No, never mind. I needed to stick to the topic. “Okay, then half. We need to—”

“Hang on.” Rafe’s phone was on the end table, set to vibrate, and it had suddenly started bouncing around like a jumping bean. He picked it up and said, “It’s Tank. If he’s calling, it’s probably important.”

I waved him off, and he got up and went into the kitchen. Before I turned the TV’s volume back up, I caught a few random words, all of which were baseball oriented.

“Important, he said,” I told Eddie. “I think he was using Tank’s call as an excuse to get out of talking about money. What do you think?”

Eddie, for once, didn’t say a word.

“Siding with your fellow male?” I asked, trying not to be miffed.

He slid himself onto my lap and closed his eyes. “Mrr.”

*   *   *