Death of a Fairy Tale : Book 1 of The Mari Fable Mysteries by Emily Fluke

Author:Emily Fluke [Fluke, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

A Historical Photo is Worth a Thousand Words

Someday I’d return to the gym. Not because I gave in to those stupid ‘get your pre-baby body back’ lines, but because car-seats are heavy and Wendy would only get heavier. I needed stretch pants and sneakers just to get her strapped in the stroller.

After soaking through the pits in my cardigan, I finally got the car-seat to click into its special spot. But that was after dragging the million-pound contraption down two flights of stairs from the condo to the street. Wendy twitched her head to look up at the dangling fox. I flicked it to send the inside bell jingling, and she cooed on cue.

“I’ll miss these days when you’re so easily entertained,” I said in a baby voice. But I’d eat those words later when Wendy wailed for two hours from gas bubbles. For now, she stayed quiet and happy with a belly half-full of formula and a soft blanket over her legs.

Though my arms almost snapped off after the stroller-car-seat workout, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and power-walked to the library. I wore my best resting-witch-face, so old ladies wouldn’t insist I stop and let them ooh and awe over Wendy. The massive library immediately pulled me in with that book smell and the calm atmosphere. It was the potential to learn something new fascinated me the most.

I pushed the stroller up to the front desk and whispered to the woman behind it. She shoved her glasses up and looked at me without blinking. Her tiny nose wrinkled at the mention of the Index.

“Index of Animal-Human Hybrids?” She repeated in a mousy voice. “I’ve never heard of it.” Her nails tapped against a keyboard and she squinted at the computer screen. “Nothing comes up when I search for it either.”

I sighed and leaned my hip against the stroller. It started rolling, and I stumbled.

“Sorry, Wendy! I’m so sorry,” I babbled. The librarian shushed me with her finger and a sound louder than my apologies.

“That’s a cute name,” she said as she straightened to peek into the stroller. “Like from Peter Pan. That was my favorite book as a child.”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “I never thought of the connection.”

The librarian’s thin lips spread into a tight smile. “You know, we do have some books that are not documented in our system. Your index might be in that section.” She pointed to the back corner of the library where the light over the center tables didn’t reach. “Just past the horror section, there’s a wall of books that never get touched. Odd histories and such.” Her lips made a small smacking sound, and she returned to her filing.

I thanked her and spun the stroller around, almost colliding with a grumpy guy and his stack of thriller novels. I hurried away. I didn’t have time to get on anyone’s bad side. In approximately one hour, Wendy would scream like a banshee for milk that I didn’t have, and we’d need to run home.

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