MY AIM IS TRUE (Melody The Librarian Mysteries Book 2) by Leslie Leigh

the door for her. I was glad I’d dusted the most visible areas of the room. A small platter with the Snack Shack donuts served as a centerpiece, framed by a pitcher and plastic cups for cold water.
    “What are those? ” she sneered, staring at the donuts.
    “Donuts,” I said, avoiding any trace of sarcasm in my reply.
    “Those aren’t Geri’s donuts,” she deduced.
    “No. Geri’s Bakery is closed on Wednesdays.”
    “Well!” she harrumphed, “I’m glad I wasn’t hungry!”
    As we took our seats, Margaret appeared in the doorway with a woman with whom I was unfamiliar.
    Charlene rose from her chair. “Ah, Marlene, I’m so pleased by your punctuality. Marlene Simmons, this is our librarian, Melody Reed. Melody…Marlene. She is our new board member.”
    We shook hands. “Welcome aboard,” I quipped. Marlene was a well-dressed, well-coiffed woman in her late forties, with a charming, if fleeting, smile.
    “Marlene is replacing Lou Kemp,” Charlene explained. “Lou felt he was getting on in years and wanted to retire. I trust that we’ll get a few good years out of Marlene before she’s put out to pasture.” Both women looked at each other and shared a squinty smile.
    As if on cue, Gus Whitehead appeared, his appendages darting this way and that, steadied by a cane, as he wobbled toward a chair. I jumped up and pulled back a chair for him.
    “Ah, thank you, Melody,” he said, sitting. His eyes opened wide at the sight of the donuts. “Well, we’ve got the goodies in place; now we can get down to business!” He rubbed his hands together like an excited child.
    “May I get you a donut, Gus?” I asked.
    “Maybe later, but I would like a glass of water, if it’s cold.” He pulled out a handkerchief and pretty much covered every square inch of it between vigorous nose-blowings and coughs. Charlene and Marlene looked at each other and waited, saying nothing.
    The meeting itself was fairly uneventful. I pitched my Summer Reading Program, along with a pre-school storybook hour once a week. I mentioned that I was thinking of approaching Marian Schultz, my predecessor, to ask if she might be interested in the storybook program.
    “Why ask Marian?” Charlene asked. “Aren’t you capable of doing it yourself?”
    I remained relatively unruffled by Charlene’s tactless method of asking for information. Some people seem to think that civility while interacting with others is optional.
    “Yes, I’m sure that I am, but this would free me up to oversee the rest of the operation during that hour, not to mention preparation time. And I thought Marian might enjoy returning in a limited capacity.”
    “That’s a wonderful idea!” Gus exclaimed. “And you should have some kind of treats available for the kids. Make it fun!”
    “I’ll take a look at the budget and see what’s available,” Charlene intoned while scribbling a note on a pad. “If Marian isn’t interested and you’re too busy, perhaps you could approach one of the elementary teachers in Crawford. Perhaps one of them could be stirred from their hammocks to participate. I would think they’d be bored to death taking the whole summer off.”
    She looked up for some sign of consent, which Marlene provided, nodding her head up and down. Gus and I pretty much just stared at the ceiling.
    Charlene noted that we’d be gearing up for a bulk mailing to all patrons asking for donations for the library’s annual book sale, and that we would need to set up special donation boxes in the building. The sale would take place during the town’s Fourth of July celebrations.
    Soon after, the meeting was adjourned, with Charlene scheduling the next meeting on a Tuesday “so we can be assured of some decent pastries.” Charlene and Marlene departed, but Gus stayed to munch on a maple log.
    “You know who she is, don’t you?” he asked, pointing the pastry toward where Marlene had sat.
    “This is the first I’ve ever seen of her,” I