Pouncing on Murder

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Authors: Laurie Cass
Tags: Mystery
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regular and one of those guys who, if he’d wanted to, was probably smart enough to do pretty much anything. The only thing was, what he seemed to want to do most was nothing. He lived in an apartment his sister had created for him in her house and made a little money working various construction jobs in the summer and running ski lifts in the winter. Though he’d spent a few months handing out business cards that proclaimed him an investigator, I wasn’t sure the business had ever, or would ever, generate actual income.
    “And he was with a girl?” Josh laughed. “What self-respecting female would go out with Mitchell Koyne?”
    “He’s not that bad.” I didn’t know whether it was his height, his cluelessness about life in general, or his untapped intelligence, but there was something about Mitchell that was oddly charming.
    “Yeah?” Josh smirked. “I don’t remember you going out with him when he asked.”
    “She’s made it a personal rule not to ever date anyone who’s more than eighteen inches taller than she is,” Holly said.
    Josh squinted one eye in my direction. “I can see how that could be a problem.”
    “You know what else is a problem?” Holly asked. “You.” She pushed a stack of books across the break room table. The pile shoved aside the plate of cookies she’d brought in and came to stop directly in front of Josh. “These are some great books on decorating,” she said. “If you’re buying a house, you need to think about some of this stuff. It’s a lot easier to paint and whatever else before you move in. And I know what you’re like,once you’re moved in, you’ll never go to the trouble of doing anything.” She stopped, but he didn’t say anything. “Well,” she asked. “Are you buying a house or not?”
    Josh reached around the books for a cookie. “Closed on it yesterday.”
    “You what?” Holly shrieked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
    Laughing, I said, “I’ll see you two later.”
    By the time I reached the doorway, Holly was opening books and pointing at pictures. I walked down the hallway to my office, grinning, because I knew that, at the end of the day, when the library lights were shut down, the books would still be on the table.
    Five minutes later, my smile was gone. Vanished. Obliterated completely, and it was all due to a single e-mail.
    “Hey, Minnie,” it said. “I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to design a flyer for your book fair after all. A couple of big rush jobs came in and I just don’t have the time. I’m really sorry.”
    I rubbed my eyes and tried to think.
    “Delegate,” Stephen had said every time we talked about the book fair. Delegation is a fine art, he’d said, and I needed to learn how to do it well if I was ever going to succeed him as director of the library.
    So I’d delegated, and one of the first things I’d given away was the creation of the book fair flyer. Amanda Bell was a regular library patron, and from the conversations we’d had, I’d judged her as cheerful, competent, and willing to help. She’d recently started a Web site and graphic design business, and I’d asked her if she’d beinterested in designing an extremely cool and attractive book fair flyer as a donation to the library. She’d jumped at the opportunity, and now . . .
    I flopped my arms on my desk and laid my head down. Clearly there was a lot more to the art of delegation than I’d realized. What was I going to do? I had to e-mail the flyer to area newspapers soon or they wouldn’t get printed in time to get inserted. And if they didn’t get inserted in time . . .
    I grabbed my already empty ABOS coffee mug and headed back to the break room. Maybe Holly or Josh would still be in there. And no matter what, caffeine would help. Plus, if there was a cookie or two left, how could that be bad?
    The break room was empty, which was technically good, because Holly and Josh and everyone else all had jobs to do, but bad for me

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