Free Kilt at the Highland Games by Kaitlyn Dunnett Page B

minute now, she’d be on the phone, rallying public support. Before she could get started, Liss needed to ask her the question that had brought her to the library in the first place.
    â€œDo you have a minute, Dolores? I could use your help.”
    It seemed to take the librarian a long time to shift focus. Liss sympathized with that reaction, too. In Dolores’s place, she’d still be thinking up inventive ways to rain down pain and suffering on Jason Graye’s thick head.
    Abruptly, Dolores jerked out of her reverie. “Yes, of course. What can I do for you, Liss?”
    â€œI just have a quick question. Do you have any idea where Angie could have gone?”
    â€œNot a clue.” Dolores pursed her lips. “It was most inconsiderate of her to run off like that.”
    â€œYou think she ran?”
    â€œWell, she’s not here, is she?”
    â€œWhen did you last see her?”
    â€œWednesday.” The answer came promptly, making Liss suspect that Dolores had been pondering the mystery of Angie’s disappearance all along. Either that, or Sherri had already been by to ask her the same question.
    â€œWas she here? If Angie consulted a travel guide or used one of the computers—”
    â€œShe passed by twice, once going to and once coming from Patsy’s Coffee House.”
    Although the library was open fewer than twenty hours a week, Dolores was on the premises almost every day and some evenings, too, working without pay to keep everything running smoothly. That was not to say she reaped no benefits from her selfless devotion to her job. Dolores was Moosetookalook’s resident snoop. She didn’t miss much that went on in their quiet little village. From the library windows, even though they’d been made smaller some years back to conserve energy, she had a bird’s-eye view of all the buildings around the town square. Liss knew for a fact that she also kept a pair of high-end binoculars in the drawer of the checkout desk.
    â€œIt’s a pity you didn’t see them drive away.”
    â€œAngie’s garage faces Elm. Besides, there are trees in the way.” Dolores’s disgruntled voice told Liss that she’d tried more than once to spy on that particular neighbor and been frustrated in her attempts.
    â€œI don’t suppose you know where Angie lived before she came here?”
    Dolores gave her a sharp look. “I can find out.”
    Apparently, Dolores did not know everything. Liss debated with herself for less than thirty seconds before sharing what Sherri had told her. “The police haven’t been able to find any trace of her before she moved to Moosetookalook. It’s as if she didn’t exist until twelve years ago.”
    Dolores took this as a challenge. “They have their sources. I have mine.”
    â€œYou’ll tell me what you find?”
    The librarian’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell both you and Sherri. Now if that’s all, I have a great deal to do besides digging into Angie Hogencamp’s past.”
    She started toward her large, old-fashioned desk, its highly polished surface piled high with the books she’d removed from the night drop. Abruptly, she stopped and glanced back, an enigmatic expression on her long, thin face.
    â€œThere’s something very odd going on here. I’d never have pegged Angie as the flighty type. She’s not one for strange or irrational behavior, unlike some people I could mention. She’s a good businesswoman and a good mother.”
    â€œShe’s a good woman, period.” Liss truly believed that.
    â€œThat remains to be seen, given the current situation. You never really know about the quiet ones, do you?” Dolores started to say more, then abruptly fell silent, her brow creasing in thought.
    â€œDolores? Have you remembered something?”
    â€œWhat? No. And now I really must get to work.” Her tone turned to acid.