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“We know one thing. Files that were important to Mrs. Taylor are missing. There had to be an important item, or several items, the killer wanted. It might be worth money to him, or maybe the value isn’t money, but something else entirely.” Kanesha paused and thought for a moment. “Actually we knew some of that already. The key thing is, now we know where the valuable item, evidently worth killing for, was located. How are we going to figure out what it was?”

“Research. I’m going to dig into Electra Barnes Cartwright’s history as deeply and broadly as I can. Since the contents of those files focused on her and her life and career, then the answer has to be there. If it’s on the Internet or in a reference book, then I can find it.”

“Because that’s what librarians do.” Melba grinned at me. She had heard me on this particular soapbox before.

“It would save me time and brainpower I don’t have to spare at the moment,” Kanesha said. “I can’t stay here and watch over your shoulder while you do it, but the minute you find anything significant, call me.”

“I will.” We had played out this scene between us more than once in the recent past. I was pleased that, though often still wary, she appeared now to trust me to produce results and to share them. To let her take the credit and not to try to put myself in the limelight as the clever amateur who constantly showed up the police. Or in this case, the sheriff’s department. I didn’t want that kind of notoriety. I was perfectly happy to do my civic duty and give her the credit for the final result.

“Then I believe I’m going to head home and try to catch a couple hours’ sleep.” Hands on the table, Kanesha pushed herself upright. She nodded at Melba. “Let me know when you’re done with that list.”

“I will,” Melba said. “You go on and get to bed. You look like you’re about to fall over any second now.”

I hated to delay Kanesha any further, but a question popped into my head that I had to ask. “Have you had any luck tracing Yancy Thigpen?”

Melba looked confused, but she didn’t interrupt to ask who this person was. Kanesha shook her head. “We know she picked up a rental car at the Memphis Airport. After that, nothing. The sheriff’s departments between here and Memphis have been alerted to keep a lookout for her and her car. That’s about all we can do for now.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ll see myself out.” She nodded good-bye and headed for the front door.

Melba waited until Kanesha was out of earshot. “So who is this Yancy Thigpen? What does he have to do with all this?”

“She is Mrs. Cartwright’s agent,” I explained. “She was supposed to arrive at Mrs. Cartwright’s house sometime yesterday for a meeting between her client and Winston Eagleton, a publisher who wants to reprint the Veronica Thane books. According to Mrs. Cartwright and her daughter, Ms. Thigpen never turned up.”

“You obviously think there’s something sinister about that.” Melba frowned. “Sounds that way to me, too, the more I think about it.”

“I’m afraid it is connected to Carrie Taylor’s murder, and I am praying that Ms. Thigpen is found alive and unharmed.”

Diesel as usual picked up on the sudden tension and started meowing for attention. He came to me for reassurance, and I rubbed and scratched his head and back while Melba watched.

“It’s amazing to me how he picks up on things.” She spoke softly.

“He’s very intuitive, that’s for sure.” I gave my boy an indulgent smile, and he chirped at me. Finally, having had enough attention—for the moment, that is—he wandered toward the utility room. No doubt by now he was starving again.

“Help yourself to more coffee. Of if you’d prefer something cold, there are canned drinks in the fridge. I’m going to get my laptop and sit here with you while I search.”

“I’m fine for now.” Melba smiled and picked up her pen.

Out of nowhere I suddenly remembered Carrie Taylor’s dog. “What did you do with the dog?”

“Zippy, you mean?” Melba laughed. “I thought Thelma, Carrie’s neighbor, hated dogs, but now that Carrie’s gone, Thelma decided she wants to take him. Says he gets into her yard all the time anyway, so he might as well stay with her because it’s familiar. Don’t that beat all?”

“As long as she’ll provide a good home for him,” I said, “it’s probably the best thing. Dogs are a lot of responsibility. Cats, too, for that matter.”

“I was relieved, actually.” Melba waved a hand at me. “Go get your laptop and let me concentrate.”

A few minutes later I was seated at the table again, laptop up and running. Diesel had come back and stretched out by Melba’s chair. She was engrossed in her task.

As soon as the computer was ready, I opened a browser and prepared to search. I realized I really should think about my strategy rather than start searching with no plan.

What should I search first?

Yancy Thigpen seemed stuck in my head at the moment, so I decided to search her. I might find out something pertinent to her apparent disappearance.

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