Chapter 66
And there was the rabbit. Tessa laughed out loud when she saw the ten-foot plaster statue, with stiff white ears and black-dot eyes, standing sentinel in front of the copper-windowed library.
Miffy, it said on the front. She remembered, for a flash of a moment, her mother reading her stories about Miffy—sweet Miffy, her mother would say—a bunny who lived in a garden.
Someone had written the Miffy stories, Tessa thought now, staring at the creature.
I need to write my own story, Tessa told herself, the best I can .
With the ending I want. Once she let someone else into the manuscript of her life, she thought as she pushed through the wide glass front doors of the library, they’d take control of the ending, too.
She needed someone to trust. And who better than a librarian?
The woman at the front desk had hair the color of the library, in spiky copper waves, and emerald-green glasses perched like a headband.
She looked up from her double-screened computer as Tessa approached, and Tessa saw her evaluating.
She imagined what was going through the woman’s mind.
Do I know her? From where? She looks like—
She tilted her head, looking perplexed, when Tessa got closer. “May I help—” she began. The woman’s lanyard ID tag said Mayzie Longworth, Research. “You know, you look exactly like—”
“Thank you.” Tessa smiled. Sharing a secret. “I look more like her than anyone, I guess.”
Mayzie’s eyes widened in recognition. “We can’t keep your book in the building,” she said.
“Massive waiting list. I was gonna come to your thing tonight at Oakdale Books, in fact, a bunch of us linguistics majors from Drake registered, we adore Annabelle, and you, but then we got the word you’d canceled—wait. You’re here.”
“Big misunderstanding.” Tessa leaned forward, keeping her voice low. “Check your email.”
Mayzie clicked her keyboard. Nodded. “Cool. Yeah, I see it. On again. Cool.”
Tessa wondered what DJ’s concocted excuse had been. Her heart fell as she remembered that the radio-silent publicist hadn’t felt it necessary to tell her.
Mayzie swiveled the computer back into place. “So, yay. Hey, did you ever find out about the earrings? Or Locket Mom?”
“Nope. Seems like Locket Mom’s the only one who didn’t see the post.” It was such a relief to have that deadweight gone. “Maybe they’ll contact the hotel to retrieve it.”
“I hope so. I’d love to know the story.”
“Agreed. Me, too. Anyway.” Tessa took a deep breath, hoping she could spin this so it made sense. “I’m at the Midlands Hotel down the street, but I’m researching my next book, you know how it goes, I have to work between my appearances. Now I need to be pointed in the right direction.”
“For? To?” Mayzie had picked up a pencil, and pulled a yellow pad closer. “Ready.”
Tessa looked behind her, making sure no one was eavesdropping, or watching them.
“Can a regular person access a police report?” Tessa kept her voice library low.
“Ah, it’s like, local rules. If you filed a formal request, maybe, or went in person to the police department. Otherwise”—she shrugged—“could be a dead end.”
Tessa flinched at the phrase. “Okay. How about… oh, never mind. Thank you. And I hope to see you tonight.”
Mayzie looked at the chunky white plastic watch on her thin wrist. “‘How about’ what?”
Here you go, Annabelle said.
“How do I look up a will?”
“Public records. If it’s old enough. And probated.” Mayzie waggled her palm. Fifty-fifty. “ If you know what state, county, and the person’s name, and a kind of date, then… ma ybe?”
“You’re amazing.”
“I try. How can I be a research librarian if I don’t know where to research?” She pointed. “Records. Upstairs, second door on the left. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”