“Because that’s what librarians do.” Melba grinned at me. She had heard me on this particular soapbox before.

“It would save me time and brainpower I don’t have to spare at the moment,” Kanesha said. “I can’t stay here and watch over your shoulder while you do it, but the minute you find anything significant, call me.”

“I will.” We had played out this scene between us more than once in the recent past. I was pleased that, though often still wary, she appeared now to trust me to produce results and to share them. To let her take the credit and not to try to put myself in the limelight as the clever amateur who constantly showed up the police. Or in this case, the sheriff’s department. I didn’t want that kind of notoriety. I was perfectly happy to do my civic duty and give her the credit for the final result.

“Then I believe I’m going to head home and try to catch a couple hours’ sleep.” Hands on the table, Kanesha pushed herself upright. She nodded at Melba. “Let me know when you’re done with that list.”

“I will,” Melba said. “You go on and get to bed. You look like you’re about to fall over any second now.”

I hated to delay Kanesha any further, but a question popped into my head that I had to ask. “Have you had any luck tracing Yancy Thigpen?”

Melba looked confused, but she didn’t interrupt to ask who this person was. Kanesha shook her head. “We know she picked up a rental car at the Memphis Airport. After that, nothing. The sheriff’s departments between here and Memphis have been alerted to keep a lookout for her and her car. That’s about all we can do for now.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ll see myself out.” She nodded good-bye and headed for the front door.

Melba waited until Kanesha was out of earshot. “So who is this Yancy Thigpen? What does he have to do with all this?”

“She is Mrs. Cartwright’s agent,” I explained. “She was supposed to arrive at Mrs. Cartwright’s house sometime yesterday for a meeting between her client and Winston Eagleton, a publisher who wants to reprint the Veronica Thane books. According to Mrs. Cartwright and her daughter, Ms. Thigpen never turned up.”

“You obviously think there’s something sinister about that.” Melba frowned. “Sounds that way to me, too, the more I think about it.”

“I’m afraid it is connected to Carrie Taylor’s murder, and I am praying that Ms. Thigpen is found alive and unharmed.”

Diesel as usual picked up on the sudden tension and started meowing for attention. He came to me for reassurance, and I rubbed and scratched his head and back while Melba watched.

“It’s amazing to me how he picks up on things.” She spoke softly.