Three days later, on Friday afternoon, Diesel and I worked our usual volunteer shift at the Athena Public Library. He lounged by my feet as I manned the reference desk. Two of his library friends worked nearby, Lizzie Hayes at the circulation counter, and Bronwyn Forster at a computer terminal helping a patron. From time to time, Diesel evidently decided a change of person was in order, and he made a regular circuit every ten or fifteen minutes, going from Lizzie to Bronwyn and back to me. He was really soaking up the attention today.

The library was quiet this afternoon. School wouldn’t be out for another hour, and then we would get a small flood of students dropping in to do homework or check out books. A few would wait here until a parent or elder sibling came by to pick them up for a ride home. I loved seeing young people in the library, though on occasion they could get a bit rambunctious.

The front door opened, and I watched as a plump woman who appeared to be in her sixties, perhaps a decade older than I, stepped inside. She removed her sunglasses and tucked them into her purse. After a cursory glance around, she made a beeline for me.

“Good afternoon,” I said as she reached the desk. “How may I help you?”

She repeated my greeting. “I’m here to see the library director, if she’s not too busy. It’s about the event you’re planning to have with Electra Barnes Cartwright.” She smiled good-naturedly, and I had a feeling I had seen her before, but where I wasn’t sure. She wore her thick gray hair braided in a coronet around her head. Her jewelry consisted of a gold wedding ring and a pearl necklace. She looked every inch the society matron come to take afternoon tea. All that was missing were a hat and gloves.

“I’ll be happy to check with her. What name shall I give her?” I picked up the phone as I punched in Teresa’s extension.

“Mrs. Carrie Taylor,” the woman responded. “I’m president of the EBC Fan Club.”

That stirred a faint memory as I waited for Teresa to answer the phone. When she picked up, I told her she had a visitor and explained who it was.

“She’ll be right out,” I said as I hung up the phone.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Taylor smiled and wandered a few feet away from the desk to examine a nearby bulletin board that listed the library’s upcoming events.

Diesel, ever curious, stood and stretched before he sauntered around the desk and over to where Mrs. Taylor stood. He sniffed at the hem of her midlength cotton dress. He chirped and evidently startled her because she stepped back as she gazed down at him. Then she smiled. “Who are you?” She bent slightly to scratch his head, and he warbled for her.