“Well, there aren’t a lot, but—”
I ignored his interruption as my frustration broke free. “As you know, my brief internet search uncovered one murder. It happened two years ago, but it’s still unsolved.”
“That’s true, but—”
“Is Deputy Cole even old enough to shave?”
Spence raised his eyebrows. “Feel better?”
“Not really.” And I was suddenly craving chocolate.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this. I just want to make sure we’re not missing anything.” He pushed away from the counter. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Don’t ask a question you may not want the answer to?’”
“I’m not afraid of this question, because I already know the answer: Jo’s innocent.” I frowned. “If you believe the same, then what are you afraid of?”
Spence paced across the kitchen with restless movements. “I grew up in this town with most of these people. I don’t want to think of any of them as a killer.”
That gave me chills. I hadn’t grown up in Peach Coast, but I’d been a resident for more than four months. What if the killer was someone I knew? A regular at On A Roll. A member of the Peach Coast Library Book Club. A library patron.
I understood why he found the idea so unsettling. “Is that the reason some people are focused on Jo?” His silence was answer enough. “Wouldn’t it be more concerning if your law enforcement was ruled by those same feelings? Do you want a killer to go unpunished because you grew up with him? Would you rather an innocent person was convicted instead?”
Spence dragged a hand over his close-cropped hair. His agitation crackled in the air between us. “You’re right.”
“Let’s help clear Jo. Then we’ll work on a way to help the community recover from this murder. I know a couple of books that might help.”
Chapter 10
The Southern definition of “casual dress” appeared to be “something one would wear to a gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”
The other librarians must’ve driven together, because they arrived at the same time. Their nervous excitement preceded them into Spence’s home. Assessing their formalwear, I felt like the poor relation. The memory of our conversation about the dress code for Spence’s dinner party played on a loop in my mind. Since when were gowns and tuxedos considered “business casual?”
And why didn’t anyone tell me?
Corrinne was almost Spence’s height in those silver five-inch stilettos. “Your home is even lovelier than I remembered.”
Spence smiled. “Thanks, Corrinne.”
Viv, in her amethyst gown, looked like an ad for expensive perfume. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”
Spence nodded. “Thank you for coming.”
Adrian stepped forward. Where had he gotten that tailored three-piece suit? “I’ve heard about your dinner parties, but I never imagined I’d be invited to one. Thanks, Mr. Holt.”
“Call me Spence. This dinner party is overdue. We haven’t had one for the librarians since you joined the staff. Now Marvey’s here too, so it’s time.”
Adrian was blushing as he walked away.
Floyd looked like a character from The Great Gatsby in his black tuxedo and bow tie. He inclined his head toward Spence. “I brought my appetite.”
Spence chuckled. “You won’t be disappointed.”
Floyd grunted. “I wasn’t last time.” High praise indeed.
I couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Excuse me, but I thought we’d agreed on business casual.” I gestured toward the sapphire blouse, black pants, and matching pumps I’d worn to work. “Floyd, did you rent that tux?”
Corrinne rushed to reassure me. “Marvey, you always look so wonderful.”
Viv nodded her agreement. “You’d look perfect in everything, even in sweats.”
Spence turned to me, his expression solemn. “Marvey, you look absolutely lovely.”
That was spreading it a bit thick, but I allowed their Southern charm to mollify me.
Our host led us into the dining room. The spontaneous gasps and interjections of admiration must’ve been gratifying. I know I was grateful, and I literally hadn’t lifted a finger to help.
Conversation flowed easily from the Southern pecan and apple salad course straight through to the entrée. From his seat at the head of the table, Spence asked a ton of questions about the library and each of us, and seemed genuinely interested in our responses. Since Adrian and I were the newest librarians, he asked about our previous career experiences.
“This is my first job out of college.” Adrian was on Spence’s left. He nodded as he finished his second helping of green beans.
Seated across the table from the library assistant, I’d noticed his initial reaction to the side dish. Vegetables didn’t appear to be his favorite food group. Spence’s Georgia green beans seemed to have changed his perspective. I’d had a similar reaction to the baked chicken and peaches. It was both sweet and savory, like a combination of a main course and a decadent dessert.
Spence sipped his white Zinfandel. “Why did you choose to become a librarian?”
Adrian nodded again. “When I was fixin’ to pick a major, my advisor asked me what I wanted to do. Told him I wanted to be a student for the rest of my life. I love learning. He said I should try library science. Working in a place filled to the rafters with books and magazines, well, I reckoned that would suit me just fine.”
From her chair at the foot of the table, Corrinne set down her fork. “That’s one of the greatest joys of being a librarian: being around books and introducing others to the joys of reading.”
Everyone’s plate was clean, and there weren’t any leftovers. It was a silent round of applause for a meal well served. Floyd had even loosened his belt.
After declining our help, Spence made quick work of clearing the table, then returned with a tray of peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream. He offered each of us a bowl before returning to his seat.
Adrian gave a greedy grin. “I’m already feeling fat as a tick.”
In context, that was a Southernism even I could understand.
I slipped Spence a look
