I glanced over at her. Nothing but crystal-clear confidence showed in her face and body language. “You can’t be sure of that,” I said. “There could be lots of things going on we don’t know about.” The board had seen a lot of turnover in the last couple of years. Otis had been on the board forever, but most of them were still new to their roles. What if they wanted to take the library in a completely different direction? What if one of them had a niece or nephew who’d just graduated with a library science degree and thought she or he would fit perfectly in Chilson? Would the new library director love the bookmobile as much as Graydon did? Or would the new director feel bookmobiles were anachronisms and convince the library board to sell ours?

“And you can stop that right now,” Julia scolded in a thick Southern accent, her vowels long and round and almost echoing inside themselves.

“Stop what?” I asked.

“Ah can see what you all are doin’ and it’s not good for your complexion. Stop that worryin’ right now.”

I peered through the windshield and eased off the gas pedal, slow to navigate around a series of massive puddles left after the previous night’s heavy rain. “Is there any G you wouldn’t drop?”

“Not in this accent, mah dear. And we’re talkin’ about you.”

Many times in the past I’d privately and publicly vowed to be more like my aunt Frances, and never worry about anything. I’d yet to do that, and I also hadn’t mastered the ability to keep my face blank. Rafe had long ago declared that he would only play cards against me, never as partner, and I didn’t blame him.

“Okay,” I said. “But what I’d really like to talk about is Ryan Anderson. You’ve heard about him, right?”

It turned out that she hadn’t, so I spent the next ten miles explaining what had happened at the bookmobile stop, that I’d met his mother and his upstairs neighbor, but that his mother had returned downstate.

“Interesting,” Julia said, abandoning the Southern accent. “You’re right, it does sound like Mom has heard from him. Wonder if the neighbor—Keegan?—knows anything about that.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” I said. “But even if his mom has heard from him, that doesn’t mean he’s safe.” Or that he was warm and dry and getting enough to eat.

Julia nodded. “And since we both know that nice young man couldn’t possibly have stolen that money or killed anyone, it makes sense to talk to Keegan as soon as possible.”

I smiled. “Do you realize that at the end of today’s route we’ll be within a couple miles of the house where Ryan and Keegan live?”