Free Books of a Feather by Kate Carlisle

the back-door knob and it looked like he was leaving, so I’m not sure what he was really planning to do with it.”
    â€œMaybe he was just going out for . . . I don’t know, lunch. Or a jog around the block. Maybe he didn’t realize how valuable it was. I mean, it doesn’t look like much.”
    â€œI highly doubt that was his plan, but I appreciate your sunny optimism. Lately, I’m more the overly suspicious type, I guess.”
    â€œI can be suspicious, too,” I insisted. “But I just can’t see yourown cousin doing something to hurt your business. Or doing something unlawful, either.” I was referring to the past burglaries because I had a feeling that was where Gen’s suspicions lay.
    â€œMaybe I’ve lost perspective,” she lamented, “but can you blame me? After all that’s happened this last year, my spirit is a little weakened.”
    â€œOh, honey, I hear you. But look, there could be a perfectly innocent explanation for all this. It’s Billy, after all. He doesn’t have a larcenous bone in his body.”
    â€œHe never used to, but maybe someone else is luring him over to the dark side.”
    I paused to consider that possibility. Billy was a sweet guy, but not the brightest bulb in the lamp. If some nefarious book collector had swayed him with money or promises, he might buckle.
    â€œI suppose it’s possible,” I said. “But I’m holding out for a happier explanation.”
    She laughed. “I hope you’re right.”
    â€œSo you missed the excitement last night,” I said, changing the subject.
    â€œI know. I left before Ian unveiled the book. I was just too bummed out to have a good time.”
    â€œThe Audubon is spectacular. You’ll have to get over there to see it. But no, I’m talking about a murder. Someone was killed in one of the small rooms off the West Gallery.”
    She didn’t say anything and I thought we might’ve been disconnected. But finally she said, “O-oh my God. Are you kidding? I spent at least half an hour in the West Gallery last night.”
    â€œI actually went looking for you over there, hoping I’d catch you before you went home. That’s when I found the body.” I didn’t mention that at first I’d thought the body might be hers.
    â€œOh no, Brooklyn. You found the . . . ugh.”
    â€œI did.” She was well aware that I’d found her father’s body, too. I hated reminding her all over again of that sad time. Heck, I hated reminding
myself
of that.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” she said. “Tell me what happened. Do the police have a motive? I can’t believe someone would kill anyone at the Covington. It seems so wrong. What is this world coming to?”
    I didn’t want to mention that this wasn’t the first time a murder had occurred at the Covington Library. It seemed like a good time to change the subject again.
    â€œSo let’s talk about this
Almanack
,” I said cheerfully, staring down at the rare papers on my worktable.
    â€œIsn’t it amazing?” she said.
    â€œI was dumbstruck when I saw it last night and I still can’t quite believe it.” As much as I loved old rare books, there was a part of me that was almost terrified to touch this thin tome. Its age. Its history. At the same time, though, those were exactly the reasons why I was excited to have it.
    â€œI was fairly dumbstruck myself,” she said. “In a good way, I mean. Aside from the fact that my own cousin might’ve been trying to filch it from the store.”
    â€œFilch is a good word.”
    â€œI like it, too.”
    She sounded a little perkier than she had a minute ago, but since we were in danger of venturing into cousin Billy territory, I steered us back to the
Almanack
. “The first thing I’d like to do is clean it as much as possible with a brush and