Free Show Time by Suzanne Trauth Page B

back to the salon for an hour. I’ll drop you off at home, Pauli,” Carol said and cleared the table.
    We loaded the dishwasher and left the casserole dish in the sink to soak, and Carol and Lola hurried off in separate directions.

Chapter 8
    I proceeded down Main Street to Amber and stopped at the red light. To my left, I could see the entrance to the police station, and that made me think of Chief Thompson. The little buzz I got from remembering his eyes and hair and muscled arms made me wonder about my love life. On the corner of Belvidere and Amber, I pulled into the parking lot of the Etonville Public Library. The April air was brittle, and a brisk wind had picked up overnight. I turned the collar of my jacket up around my ears. The morning sunlight was fierce—not as fierce as it would be glinting off the ocean, but still intense. I missed this time of day down the shore, especially in the spring. No summer crowds yet, few people on the boardwalk, the gulls not as aggressive as they would be in a month or two. I used to meander in the sand and feel the wet granules squish between my toes. That was another life.
    The lobby of the library was bustling for eight-thirty in the morning. Directly ahead was the main circulation desk. Off to the right side, a small group of senior citizens, each toting a book, chattered animatedly and filed into a conference room. I recognized a few from the ELT. On the left, a patient young man ushered exuberant tots into a reading room filled with kiddie chairs. Behind the circulation desk, Mildred Tower multitasked, the phone at her ear while she stamped the cards attached to the flyleaves of half a dozen volumes. Mildred and her husband ate dinner at the Windjammer at least once a week, always ordering the soup of the day, salad, and dessert. Rarely ever the entrée. You don’t forget patrons with that pattern. The two of them were on a perpetual diet that seemed to have little impact.
    I loved the smell of libraries, the dust and floor polish and aging paper. It did something to my insides. Immediately I relaxed and regretted the fact that I had never stepped foot into the Etonville Public Library until today. The campus library had been the best part of my college experience.
    Mildred nodded at me, her round face a grin from ear to ear, and held up a finger to “hold on.” I nodded back and looked around.
    She replaced the phone in its cradle. “Hi, Dodie. May I help you?”
    â€œYes, please. I’m wondering if the library has a computer lab.”
    â€œOf course.” She slipped out the half-door that separated the oval reception area from the rest of the lobby. Despite her size, she practically sprinted to the back of the foyer and turned left, moving down a corridor that had a series of rooms on either side. I saw a foursome playing cards, and one of the players looked up as I passed the open door.
    â€œHi, Dodie.”
    â€œHey, Chrystal. Getting ready for Romeo and Juliet ?” I asked the ELT’s costumer.
    She looked at me over the rim of her reading glasses and giggled. “Walter has us working on codpieces, dontcha know.”
    Shakespearean costume history was not my strength, but even I knew that covers for the men’s crotches were an Elizabethan custom. I’d seen leather versions on heavy-metal rockers; I couldn’t wait to view the ELT variety. “Sounds like fun.”
    I waved at Chrystal and quick-stepped to catch up with Mildred. I passed large multicolored murals with cartoonish characters grinning crazily. Someone’s version of a nightmare.
    At the end of the hall, Mildred paused beside an open door and waited for me to enter. There were four computer stations. Only one was being used. “Feel free to stay as long as you like.” She cocked her head to one side. “Do you have an email address, or do you need to set up an account?”
    â€œI have an address. But how would I set up a new