Deep Dire Harvest by Joy Ann Ribar

Author:Joy Ann Ribar [Joy Ann Ribar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wine Glass Press
Published: 2022-09-09T00:00:00+00:00

All systems were go at the bakery, so Frankie changed from vineyard grubby into unpretentious casual to meet Abe at the library. She decided to skip telling her bakery crew about the vineyard vandalism, knowing it would take too much time and potentially throw the shop into an unwanted tailspin.

Seeing Abe’s old Wagoneer parked in the library lot, she chose a spot next to it, then trotted up the steps to the brick building on Pine Avenue. She barely glanced at the garden trail alongside the parking area that included favorite literary statues like Alice in Wonderland, the Cat in the Hat, and the Little Mermaid. Benches nestled between flower beds and statues, inviting people to sit and read. The first frost was probably a few weeks away now. It would turn the lovely petunias, zinnias, and marigolds to the same drab burnt brown hue. Nevermind; she didn’t have time to stop and admire the colorful blooms that still persisted on the stems just now.

Sue Pringle, veteran city librarian, was seated at the reference desk, poised over her computer. She looked up as Frankie approached, smiled, and pointed toward a set of stairs leading downward.

“You must be Abe’s date today. He’s in the dungeon.” Sue laughed.

Embarrassed, Frankie realized she’d never been to the library archives in the basement, not once in her long residency in Deep Lakes. What kind of journalist are you? She berated herself.

“Thanks, Sue,” was all she managed, not wanting to get into a chat session with the amiable librarian today. Instead, Frankie adjusted her backpack over her shoulders, a recurring habit since she was short and the straps didn’t quite accommodate her stature. She brought along her laptop, notebook, pens, and cell phone, of course. She wanted to show Abe she was ready for the investigative work ahead.

The library’s basement was a long hallway that split off into rooms on the right and left. The first room on the right opened into a break room with a kitchen. Across from the break room was a decent-sized space set up for programs and activities. It appeared to be newly remodeled. Frankie remembered taking her daughters to many summer programs at the library, but they were held on the main floor back then.

She wore sneakers, so her footsteps barely registered on the tiled floor, but Abe’s radar picked up on her presence. He called out from the next room down the hall.

“That you, Champagne?” Abe sounded impatient, even though Frankie was better than on time—she was five minutes early.

“Coming.” Frankie entered the next door on the right. Her eyes widened at the so-called archives and could hear her grandmother’s voice in her ear calling it “Fibber McGee’s Closet,” from the old radio comedy show.

File boxes lined two of the four walls and were stacked five high. An old puppet theater stage leaned against another wall; the puppets themselves hung on hooks, some looking out menacingly at visitors. Next to the puppets and stage, a variety of decor squatted, remnants of past summer programs, no doubt.

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