The Stranger in the Library by Eva Gates

Author:Eva Gates
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

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I took on Sunday breakfast duty because Connor had to get to his meeting with the police chief and the detective prior to their press conference. As usual, my first chore of the day was to fill the cat food bowl, and while Charles dug in, I started the coffee and tossed two plump sausages into the frying pan. I carefully poached two eggs for us each, put bread in the toaster, and set the table with butter, jam, and hot sauce. I’d woken a couple of times in the night to the sound of wind shaking the old house and rain battering against the windows, and when I peeked outside this morning, the overnight rain had settled into a solid gray drizzle.

“Any plans for today?” Connor asked when I called him for breakfast.

“I intended to take my book to the deck and spend the day alternately reading and running across the sand and in and out of the water. Looks like that is not going to happen.” I threw a sad glance at the rain-spattered kitchen windows and the gloom beyond. “Instead, Louise Jane asked me to do some research on her artistic ancestor.”

“Why?” Connor dug into his food almost as eagerly as Charles had. “Why has she asked you, and why are you going to do it? Does this have anything to do with the supposed séance?”

“In a way, yes. But I don’t think it’s entirely a bad idea.” I put down my fork and spoke slowly. “My curiosity is up, for one thing. Robert O’Callaghan was highly influential in the larger art world and an Outer Banks native. Yet I hadn’t even heard of him until last week. His later years seem to be a sad story of artistic decline and depression, and relatives taking advantage of his earlier successes, and that might be part of the reason why he’s largely forgotten in his hometown. I would like to learn more about him with an eye to maybe expanding his role in my own little art show to make him, and his life, a central part.”

“You’re never going to get an argument from me about promoting Outer Banks history.”

“Are you sure you want to wear a tie to this press conference?”

He looked down at himself. “You think it’s too much?”

“It’s a Sunday morning. You want to look like a family man, reluctantly torn away from Sunday in bed with coffee, the newspapers, his adoring wife, and his not-so-adoring cat. Not to look as though you can’t wait until you get to the office.”

“Sure you don’t want to be a politician’s wife?”

I didn’t have to pretend to suppress a shudder.

He grinned at me. “Advice taken. I’ll change.”

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