Page 11 of Booked for Murder

“I don’t know, either,” Beatrice complained. “This is a mess. You’re the one person cleared from the branch because you don’t check even a single box for being a suspect, so that’s where we are. If the rest of the staff is under suspicion, you might really become the head librarian for a while until this matter is settled.”

I did not want to be the actual head librarian; being the head librarian involved a lot of schmoozing to the exact wrong people—people like Senator Godrin or Bradley Hampton. It was one thing to pass my ex-boss on the street, but I had no idea if I could play dumb enough to fool him if I had to talk to him directly. My old habits would inevitably surface. For all I knew, he believed I was still out west in the hospital.

The instant I became useful to him again, I assumed he would show up to make a mess of my new life. The murder of his friend might make me useful again faster—or turn me into the top suspect of a messy case.

No matter how I looked at my situation, I lost in some fashion or another.

“This is a mess, isn’t it? But I don’t understand why anyone at my branch would want to kill him or any of the senators. Our popularity with them helps keep us open.”

“I know. That’s what I told my boss right after we got the call about the killing. It makes no sense for any of you to want to kill the man—and if you had that sort of aptitude, why would you be working in a library?”

“Some of us do love books that much,” I replied with a delicate sniff. I’d been careful to avoid mentioning how much I enjoyed reading, but my personal library card saw a great deal of use, and anyone with access to the system would have a good idea of how I spent my evenings.

On average, I borrowed twenty books a week.

“Your entire branch is full of sneaky bookworms smart enough to avoid mentioning you’re sneaky bookworms. If we take our eyes off you for even twenty minutes, you’d all be reading instead of working.”

“And?”

“You do have to work.”

“Amazingly, we do manage to get all of our work done between reading sessions.”

“I don’t know how we managed to have an entire branch of bookworms,” Beatrice grumbled. “And you do get just enough work done between your reading sessions to stay out of trouble. Frankly, do any of you have time to plan a murder with how busy you are reading books, dusting books, or making sure nobody has done any damage to your precious books?”

“We’re librarians. We’re supposed to love books. And we even love helping our patrons find the right books. It just happens most of the patrons know what they’re looking for or are too prideful to ask for our help. It’s not our fault most of our patrons are politicians.”

“Thank you for attracting that lot to your branch.”

“So, about those renovation plans. Why don’t you tell me my budget so I can ask for ten grand extra, and then you’ll argue five, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

“Just for the renovation plans?”

“Let’s start with the renovation plans. The book acquisition budget will really depend on how the renovations go, unless someone has already decided how much we’re getting in acquisitions?”

Beatrice snagged a folder poised precariously on the corner of her desk and slapped it onto her keyboard, which made her computer squeal a complaint. She tapped the escape button with a huff and opened the file, pulling out a sheet of paper before offering it to me. “Here’s your summary sheet that the boss gave me.”

What was going on that the main branch had already prepared a budget summary for a project I hadn’t known I was starting on until a few hours ago? In truth, I’d bitched and complained about the empty, unused space often enough for it to become legendary, but I’d never expected anyone to act on it.

According to the sheet, Beatrice’s boss had lost his mind, he wanted to give my little branch a significant upgrade, and he wanted the building to be a New York Public Library jewel. With half a million dollars, we could do more than renovate the two empty floors.

We could give the entire library a facelift and have budget leftover to do some upgrades, replace Mickey’s battered desk, upgrade the sedans, and even buy new computers with the excess. Then, because they really loved us, a hundred thousand extra would fill our shelves with new fiction titles—and we would get an extra fifty thousand for non-fiction books.

“Okay. What’s the catch? Also, I need to request that ten thousand because your boss might be worried I’m not feeling well if I don’t. It’s a tradition, Beatrice.”

“I’m going to tell my boss to give you the ten grand only because you’re going to deal with the renovation work so we don’t have to.”

“This is a huge budget. Where did it come from?”

“A donor, who required it be spent on heritage branch sites. Your branch is the only heritage building we have in need of major renovation work. Opening new floors and adjusting how you store excess stock is the best use of the money. It just happens the timing worked out. I would have been calling you within a week about this anyway. But with the murder, well, there was no reason to delay. So, you’re suckering the boss out of ten grand extra to put up with your new job as a renovation manager for your branch.”

Yep, I’d been suckered, but I would like it. “I really like that donor right now.”

“We do, too. All the heritage sites are getting good acquisitions budgets because of that donor, but you’re getting the lion’s share of the renovation budget. We’re getting restoration work done on the main floor, the crown moldings, and the older shelves, and some of the other branches are getting patch work.”

“Am I going to even be a librarian for a while?”

“You’ll be expected to do some librarian duties, yes.”