In this Library Lover’s Mystery from the New York Times bestselling author of A Likely Story , a decades-overdue book puts library director Lindsey Norris hot on the trail of a cold case…   When the Briar Creek Public Library holds its first overdue book amnesty day—no fines for late returns—the volume of incoming materials is more than Lindsey and her staff can handle. But one tardy tome catches her attention—a copy of J. D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, twenty years past due. When Lindsey looks up the borrower, she’s shocked to discover it was a murdered teacher named Candice Whitley, whose killer was never found. Candice checked out the novel on the day she died. Now Lindsey wonders if it could provide a clue to the decades-old cold case. No one noticed who brought the book back in, but could it be Candice’s killer? Lindsey is determined to catch the culprit one way or another, because justice for Candice Whitley is long overdue... INCLUDES READING GROUP RECOMMENDATIONS Praise for the New York Times Bestselling Library Lover’s Mysteries   “A sparkling setting, lovely characters, books, knitting, and chowder! What more could any reader ask?”—Lorna Barrett, New York Times bestselling author   “Terrific…intelligent, lively, and fun.”—Miranda James, New York Times bestselling author   “Sure to charm cozy readers everywhere.”—Ellery Adams, New York Times bestselling author   “[A] fast-moving, tricky tale that kept me guessing at every turn...[A] must read!”— Kate Carlisle, New York Times bestselling author   “What a great read!...McKinlay has been a librarian, and her snappy story line, fun characters, and young library director with backbone make for a winning formula.” — Library Journal New York Times bestselling author Jenn McKinlay also writes the Cupcake Bakery Mysteries and the Hat Shop Mysteries. ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof*** Copyright © 2016 Jenn McKinlay Chapter One “Let the wild rumpus start!” Beth Stanley cried as the cart of books she had stacked to bursting abruptly regurgitated its contents all over the Briar Creek Public Library’s main floor with a loud rushing noise followed by slaps and thumps as the books landed on the ground. “Shhh!” Ms. Cole hissed. She was an old-school librarian—nicknamed the lemon because of her frequently puckered disposition—who was in charge of the circulation of materials for the library located on the Connecticut shore. “Sorry, I tried to stop it but I couldn’t hold it in,” Beth said. She was wearing a crown and carrying a sparkling scepter, which was really a bejeweled cardboard tube from a roll of wrapping paper with a tissue-paper flower sticking out of the end. Lindsey noted the tail pinned to the back of her yoga pants and the pointy ears poking out beneath her crown. With her short, dark hair styled in wild disarray, Beth bore a remarkable resemblance to Max, the character she was representing. “Where the Wild Things Are for story time?” Lindsey guessed. “Best story time book ever,” Beth said. “Brilliant! I love Maurice Sendak,” Paula Turner said. “No one asked you,” Ms. Cole said. Her glance was frosty as she took in her part-time clerk with undisguised suspicion. Paula was the library’s newly hired clerk, and with her sleeve of colorful arm tattoos and long hair dyed a deep purple, she had been a challenge for the conservative Ms. Cole to supervise from day one. “That’ll do, people,” Lindsey Norris said. She was the director of the small library and tried to maintain some semblance of order. “We have three more loaded book trucks coming in. We need to make room behind the desk.” “There is no more room,” Ms. Cole said. Her tone was as dry as butterless toast, and if she were anyone else Lindsey might have thought she was teasing. Ms. Cole was not. A monochromatic dresser, Ms. Cole was in all black today, as if she were in mourning. Lindsey figured she probably was, given that they were holding their first annual fine amnesty day, which went against everything in which Ms. Cole believed. She was a punitive sort who enjoyed using fines and shushing to curb their patrons’ naughty behavior. Lindsey had been trying to get her to roll with the times for a couple of years now. It was a battle. “Why don’t we get the crafternoon ladies to help?” Beth suggested. She was picking up the books that had fallen off of her cart. Lindsey and Paula helped her. Ms. Cole did not. “In what way?” Lindsey asked. She stacked the books back on the cart. “They can fine-sort the book trucks that are already checked in, which will make room for the new ones,” Beth said. “In fact, if we wheel the trucks to the meeting room, we can do that while we discuss our book of the week.” “They are not cleared to work in the library,” Ms. Cole protested. “Drastic times,” Lindsey said. She looked at Paula and Beth. “Let’s wheel the checked-in carts to the crafternoon room to make room for the incoming.” “I really must prote