1 Killer Librarian by Mary Lou Kirwin

couple of years. He was rich and promised her many things, but he was a bit of a ninny if you ask me. Sal was quite taken with him. At first I found it amusing.”
    I sat still, waiting for him to go on.
    “Not at all amusing when I came home to find our savings cleaned out, the house supposedly signed over to me, which was generous, and Sal gone off with Howard.”
    A moment later, the name registered. “Wait a minute. Did you say Howard?”
    He nodded.
    “Howard Worth?”
    “The same.”
    “But he’s married to Annette.”
    “Yes, Sally’s relationship with Howard didn’t last long, but by the time they broke up she had fallen in love with America. She could be rather flighty. Plus, I didn’t really want her back.”
    “Were you and Sally married?” I asked.
    “We never bothered.”
    “Have you heard from her since?”
    “Just a postcard. She’s living in Chicago.”
    “Oh, I’m really sorry,” I said, but I wasn’t. Nice to hear the story of his last love and see that he was over it. One did get over breakups—I hoped. But it concerned me that Howard had been involved.
    “It’s for the best. She wasn’t much good at being a host. She liked fitting out the rooms, but hated it when the guests made a mess in them.”
    I took a large swallow of my beer, then asked the question I needed the answer to. “How did that make you feel about Howard?”
    “Oh, I didn’t really blame him. I think she was ready to bolt. If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else.”
    “Awfully civilized of you,” I said, although I was rather skeptical of how evenly he talked about the breakup.
    “I try.” He raised his eyebrows at me.
    “Rather ironic that he would end up dying in your B and B,” I murmured.
    “Yes, I hope the police don’t find it so. But it sounds like he died of natural causes.” He was silent for a moment, then turned his eyes on me and asked, “Now that you know about my last affair, tell me about your no-show companion.”
    I almost spit my beer out. Did he know that Davehad split up with me? For some reason I was still not ready to talk about it. He handed me a linen handkerchief that he pulled out from his pocket. “Breathe, Karen.”
    I gasped and sputtered and when I was done, he was still waiting. “My companion?” I asked, weakly.
    “Yes, whoever was supposed to come with you. Who was he and why isn’t he here?”
    “Well, his name was Dave.”
    Caldwell jerked his head back, frowned and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you mean he died?”
    “Not really. I mean, no. I guess I spoke of him in the past tense because—” And here I stopped myself. Other than Rosie and Guy, I had told no one what had happened to me. I could not bring myself to talk about it. “I guess because he’s not here with me at this moment, so he seems in the past.”
    Caldwell didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he asked pleasantly, “And what does this man in your life do?”
    “Dave’s a plumber. We’ve been going out for a few years.”
    “Sounds rather serious.” Caldwell touched his lip, then asked, “However did you happen to go out with a plumber, Karen? Doesn’t seem your style at all. I’d expect you to be with a lawyer or a professor. Someone in letters.”
    I thought back to the first time I had seen Dave, standing at my front door with his large box of tools. “How else? He came to fix my toilet.”
    “Oh, I see. He made himself indispensable.”
    “You could say that.” For a brief moment I thought of telling him the whole story of what was going on with Dave, how he had dumped me, how he was now with Honey, how I followed him to their hotel, talking to a strange man about him, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. It painted too mean a picture of me. I wanted to continue to be the lovely woman who wore the gorgeous shawl. I tried to think of something nice to say about Dave. “He has his good points.”
    “One thing I can say for sure is—he has good