I twitched at the sound of my name being called out by Trent Ross, the library board’s president. The principal himself.

“Nice to be here,” I said, trying not to sound awkward or uncool, and undoubtedly failing.

“Have a seat,” Trent said, waving down the length of the table, which seated twenty. “Anywhere is fine.”

Nice of him to say, but he was absolutely wrong. Not all the board members were here yet, and if I sat where one of them usually sat, I’d look like a clueless newbie. If I sat at the far end of the table, leaving empty chairs between myself and the board members, I’d look like a supplicant, pleased to get any scrap of favor the board might bestow.

“Minnie!” A large hand slapped me in the middle of the back, sending me staggering. “Haven’t seen you in dog’s years.”

I summoned the strength to stand up straight and smiled up at Otis Rahn, who was probably my favorite board member. If I had favorites, that was. Because if I had favorites, I’d also have non-favorites, and it wouldn’t be smart to place the board president at the bottom of a list like that. Trent was a retired attorney from the Chicago area, smart and observant and financially astute, but he had a city polish that wasn’t wearing off. That might have been fine if I’d understood his sense of humor, but we laughed at completely different things.

Otis, who was nearly eighty, ushered me toward a chair. “This is where Graydon sits. Say, have you heard from him?”

At the sound of Graydon’s name, the atmosphere in the room changed instantly. The casual chitchat of people who met once a month came to a screeching halt, and the seated board members turned as one unit to look at me.

And not just a plain old look. These were piercing stares that wanted to peel off my skin and drill down to my bone marrow. Trent put his elbows on the glossy tabletop and steepled his fingers. Linda Kopecky, the board’s vice president, took off her reading glasses, the better to see me. The other two board members, Sondra and Bruce, had expressions that reminded me of eagles about to swoop down on their prey.

“Um,” I said, sounding as clever as I felt. “I got a text on Saturday, saying that they made it to California safe and sound.” I intentionally let my voice rise at the end of the sentence, making it almost a question. No one took the bait. I summoned all the courage I could muster and asked, “Why do you ask? Do you think something has happened to him?”

Trent leaned forward. “Not at all. We’re just interested to know the level of contact you have with him when he’s out of town.”