By Jo Dereske
Ultimately, development starts off on a brand new library for Bellehaven, a present of Franklin Harrington, scion of outdated Bellehaven funds, and one of many in the community well-known Harrington triplets. but if a freak storm from snow hits, Bellehaven is delivered to its knees. now not so pass over Helma Zukas who's at her submit, dishing out library details, overseeing wayward staff, and soothing a busload of stranded gamblers. by surprise, an explosion rocks the snowy day, destroying the library web site, killing the benefactor and a penny–pinching urban finance czar. The snow melts yet now not hassle. Shockingly, Ms. Moon thrusts the recent library undertaking onto Helma. And Helma quickly discovers why, uncovering secrets and techniques and shady dealings from begin to end – secrets and techniques within the library, within the urban, and within the Harrington family members – secrets and techniques worthy killing for.
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Extra info for Catalogue of Death: A Miss Zukas Mystery
The library, and the staff,” Helma told him. The homeless man abandoned his magazine and approached Wayne. ” “That’s right,” Wayne told him. ” He nervously buttoned and unbuttoned the bottom button of his coat. “I can tell. I’m not doing anything illegal. ” “Good for you,” Wayne said, and the man walked away, nodding to himself. Wayne stamped his feet as if he’d just trudged through fields of snowdrifts instead of across the street CATALOGUE OF DEATH 27 from the police station. “When this lets up,” he told Helma, “we’ll get the bus passengers to a hotel.
None of them spoke. The homeless man had disassembled his pencil log cabins and was now distributing the pencils throughout the library, pointy ends down, two to each of his chosen locations. Helma saw piles of money: change and bills, both American and Canadian, in the center of each table. And gathered around the tables with their chairs pulled in tight, the women played cards, their attention zeroed in on their games. At her table, Bonita Wu shuffled her deck so swiftly the cards blurred like wings.
They hate me,” she whispered now. ” “Surely they—” Ms. Moon looked up at Helma, interrupting her. ” Above them, pipes clanked and the heating system began humming once more, but before Helma could relax, it quit again with an ominous thunk. ” Ms. Moon repeated. “If there’s a reasonable way I can help,” Helma told her, glancing up at the ceiling. ” Ms. Moon set aside her crystal. ” Her face lit with a relaxed smile. ” She pulled pencil and paper toward her. “Ms. Moon,” Helma cautioned, “we have pressing issues right now.