“Tell me more about the books that went missing,” she said. “I wonder if we can find a pattern.” (She did not care in the least about the food and sundries. Pencil thievery just didn’t seem like a threat.)
“Ah, yes. Please have a look.”
He led her to his bookcases, which went floor to ceiling, since he could easily fly up to fetch a title. Some books leaned over, and there were many gaps, but the owl jabbed an accusing wing toward very particular openings. “See here? That was my annotated copy of Shady Hollow: A History. And there, a very rare first edition of A Feast from the Forest. It’s one of the seminal woodland cookbooks. Even my Shady Hollow street directory was stolen, and that’s this year’s edition!” He pointed to a mostly empty shelf then. “And there, nearly a decade’s worth of yearbooks from the local schools.”
“But surely many creatures have copies,” Vera said. “Every student from each year, to start!” She was puzzled over the loss of such a mundane item.
“It’s not that they’re rare, it’s that they’re useful, you know. I can’t tell you how often I’ve gone to a yearbook to confirm a spelling or find out that a creature spent a year abroad, or what have you.”
“I see,” she said. “What else went missing? You said some pages were ripped out of books.”
“Indeed.” He shuddered at the barbarism of it. “The thief must have been utterly mad, because there’s no rhyme or reason to it. It appears they detested beauty. They ripped out several illustrations and maps, but also just random pages from the local histories. I tell you, Miss Vixen, it was the product of unbounded rage. I only wish I had arrived home in time to confront the criminal!”
“Be glad you didn’t,” Vera said. “If they’re as dangerous as you supposed, you might have been hurt…or worse.”
“Never!” Heidegger declared. “This is a civilized world.”
Vera did not respond to that, but instead tried for a different topic. “Well, thank you for speaking with me. And now you must excuse me. I didn’t realize the time. I’ve got to get to the bookstore soon! Are you coming? Tonight’s event with Bradley Marvel is going to be the biggest crowd in years.”
“Huh!” Heidegger said. “That sort of thing is a little too accessible for a scholar such as myself. I shall be at home reading Proust by the fire.”
Vera made sympathetic noises while searching for an escape route. Heidegger was in general a good sort, but he tended to think the world began and ended with him. And while Vera always wanted get a scoop, the theft of books and pencils and peanut butter didn’t sound like much of a lead, and it was almost time for the book signing!
Chapter 9
From Professor Heidegger’s, Vera hurried home to change into a new outfit. She wanted to be comfortable enough to help Lenore move chairs but still appear stylish for a date with Orville. She was going a little early to help with any last-minute preparations that might be needed, and had told Orville to meet her at the bookshop.
The weather forecast called for a clear and crisp autumn evening, which was fortunate. If the weather was bad, the residents of Shady Hollow tended to stay home in their various cozy houses, cottages, and dens.
When Vera arrived at Nevermore Books, it appeared that Lenore had things under control. Rows of colorful folding chairs were set up to face the podium where Bradley Marvel would be speaking. A glass of water was at the ready. Lenore flitted around, making sure that the trays of hors d’oeuvres were in place along with the glasses and the wine.
The store was starting to fill up as most of the residents of Shady Hollow gathered for what might prove to be the literary event of the year. Last year, Marvel had been scheduled to speak, but had canceled at the last minute due to illness. Vera hoped that all would go well tonight, and that Nevermore Books would turn a tidy profit.
The fox chose two empty seats in the next to the last row. She knew that Orville was on his way, but if he were delayed for any reason, he would be able to slip in without making a fuss. After she took her seat and nodded to a few neighbors, she looked around the store. There was a poster of the author at the front, and a large blowup of the cover of his new book. Vera studied the picture of Marvel and had to admit he was quite handsome in addition to being famous. Perhaps she’d judged him too quickly before, and he was more skilled at writing than at social niceties. Clearly his publisher supported him well.
Vera saw Chief Meade enter the bookstore. He was chatting and shaking paws with various creatures, clapping others on the back with a friendly wink, or doffing his hat to the ladies. Though Meade was known to be a bit of a slacker when it came to actually working, he was well aware of how to present himself as a reliable, useful figure that folk could trust. There was a reason he’d been chief for so long.
She knew that he was campaigning, so she hoped that Orville would show up soon to provide a counterbalance. Vera had no sooner had this thought than she felt a large presence on her left as Orville dropped into the seat that she had saved for him. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Quite a crowd,” he observed. Orville was not a big reader, but even he was familiar with the works of Bradley Marvel. He liked to point out any mistakes in police procedure that occurred in the books.
Vera enjoyed the cheerful
