Free Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) by Jenn McKinlay

she cared for him, and she suspected that he cared for her, but he never said so, which made the whole situation impossible. She didn’t want to spend her life trying to guess how someone was feeling.
    When they had first gotten together, it had been she who announced her feelings for him. At the time she had felt quite bold and daring and had been relieved when he had said that he liked her, too. But when her ex had shown up trying to win her affections back, an impossibility rivaled only by turning iron into gold, Sully had done a full retreat and dumped her. Fine.
    She thought she’d handled the dumping pretty well. She didn’t cry—in public—and she had gone about her life exactly as it had been before she’d started dating him. The unfortunate thing was that she missed him—really bad.
    She loved that he was well read and they could talk about anything. They both loved old movies and hanging out at the Blue Anchor with their friends. He’d even begun to teach her how to sail a boat.
    She glanced down at the dog trotting happily beside her. She knew that even though Heathcliff couldn’t say it, he missed Sully as well. Okay, maybe she was projecting there, but she didn’t think so.
    When she arrived back at her house, she found Nancy and Charlie standing on the front porch. They each had steaming mugs of coffee, and Nancy was reading to Charlie from the
Briar Creek Gazette
. Lindsey had no doubt about which article Nancy was reading.
    When Heathcliff caught sight of them, he barked and strained at his leash. Lindsey unclipped him so he could go and greet two of his favorite people. As soon as he was free, he broke into a run. He jumped up on Charlie first and then Nancy. They both paused to pet him, and he wiggled and wagged and then raced back to Lindsey.
    “Good morning,” she said as she stepped onto the porch. She held up her own copy of the paper. “How did you like the Wargus article?”
    “I didn’t,” Nancy grumped. “I thought he was writing for a fancy-schmancy paper owned by that Buchanan fellow. What’s he doing writing for the
Gazette
?”
    “The editors probably figured he’s a big name and it would draw advertisers,” Charlie said. “It’s all about the mighty dollar, man.”
    Charlie was a struggling musician who worked seasonally for Sully. By mutual agreement, he and Lindsey never talked about his day job. Charlie was a good, hardworking guy in his early twenties with long, stringy black hair and a varied collection of tattoos and piercings all over his body. Lindsey liked him, even when the band practices he held in his apartment made her furniture rumba across the floor.
    “I’m afraid you’re right,” she said. “If the
Gazette
can turn the community theater production into a scandal sheet for the next few issues, they’ll be sure to lock in new advertising.”
    “I can’t say that I blame them, with newspapers closing everywhere, but still, I hate seeing Violet’s name in here,” Nancy said.
    “Unless it drums up enough interest in the play to get more people to attend,” Lindsey said. “They can prove Wargus wrong with sold-out shows and an amazing performance.”
    “You’re right,” Nancy said. “That’ll shut up that horse’s ass.”
    “Whew, go Naners,” Charlie said. He held up his fist and they exchanged knuckle bumps.
    “Will you be there tonight to work on costumes?” Nancy asked Lindsey.
    “Yeah, I have to re-create my donkey head,” she said.
    “I’ll help you,” Nancy offered.
    “No, I’ve got it,” Lindsey said. “It’s sort of become a personal challenge now.”
    Nancy nodded. “I understand.”
    “Of course, if Robbie’s wife comes near my stuff again, I might need you for an alibi,” Lindsey said.
    Nancy rubbed her hands together. “Oh, Charlie and I could come up with a good one, don’t you think, Charlie?”
    “We could always say you were off getting a tattoo,” he offered.
    “Wouldn’t I then need a tattoo to show