“No, can’t say as I do.” Diesel bumped his head against my arm to signal his need for attention. I rubbed my hand along his back as Teresa continued.

“Marcella has a library card but I don’t think she uses it much. But that’s neither here nor there. One more awesome thing.” She chuckled.

When she didn’t continue immediately, I said, “Okay, out with it before I pop a gasket here.”

“If you aren’t too busy tomorrow,” Teresa responded, “how would you like to go with me to meet Electra Barnes Cartwright?”

I laughed heartily. “I think you can figure out my answer. What time and where shall I meet you?”

We arranged to meet at the library a little before nine for an appointment at nine thirty. The drive to the Marter home should take only twenty minutes at most.

“Bring Diesel along,” Teresa said. “I asked whether Ms. Cartwright would have any objection to a cat, and Yancy told me she loves animals. Besides, he’s such a good icebreaker if we need one.”

“He definitely is that.” Plus he always seemed to know when he was being talked about, because I noticed him staring intently at the phone. He chirped loudly several times, as if to tell me he would be happy to go along. “Did you hear that?”

Teresa laughed. “Yes, I did. He’s given his approval to the visit, too.”

“That settles it. See you tomorrow.” I rang off and stowed the phone in my pocket. “Come on, boy, let’s go downstairs and get something to eat.” I set the copy of The Mystery at Spellwood Mansion on the nightstand for bedtime reading before I followed Diesel out of the bedroom.

• • •

The sky on Tuesday morning promised heavy rain, and the clouds grew darker as Teresa and I departed the library in my car. I’d checked the weather report last night, and the forecast gave only a twenty percent chance of rain. More like eighty percent, it seemed to me as I examined conditions.

Diesel stretched out in the backseat, his purr a basso continuo to our thoughts. Teresa provided the directions, and I cast anxious eyes to the heavens as I drove. The weather reminded me eerily of the opening scene in The Mystery at Spellwood Mansion. No lightning yet, but I had a feeling the distant rumble of thunder presaged plenty of it to come.

“Yancy said Ms. Cartwright is a hoot to talk to. Definitely knows her own mind and isn’t afraid to speak it.” Teresa fiddled with the strap of the seat belt across her chest, and I could tell the weather made her as nervous as it did me. “She’s also pretty active. Walks at least a couple miles a day, unless the weather’s bad, or it’s too hot.”