The Magic Library Mysteries Collection: The Complete Series, Books 1-3

by Hillary Avis

  Strange. Maybe he and Jenny were off chasing a squirrel or something, or maybe were running a stray dog or other potential predator to the property line.

  She picked up the bucket of milk and, after prying Nia away from the puppies, headed back up to the house. There, she followed Myra’s detailed instructions for how to strain the milk, then—after a lengthy search through the jumbled kitchen cabinets—filled two sippy cups with the fresh milk for Jaden and Nia and poured the rest into a big glass jar to chill. Two goats made a lot of milk.

  A bark rang out in front of the house, and Allison peered out the window over the sink to see Chauncy bounding along the highway, his tail tucked between his legs. Shoot. The road was not a safe place for the dogs to be running around. She rinsed and dried her hands, plopped Jaden in his pack-n-play with his cup of milk, and gave Nia a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back, OK? Right back. And then I’ll make your food.”

  Nia nodded solemnly, her jaw working reflexively as she drank her first course of breakfast. The second, according to the list, would be a slice of whole wheat toast with Crystal’s homemade hazelnut butter on top. Lucky kids. Allison flicked the switch on the base of the baby monitor and took the portable receiver with her, leaving the volume turned up so she could hear every bit of baby talk.

  Chauncy was fifty yards past the house before Allison made it out to the road and yelled his name. He swiveled his head around and came loping back, as though running highway patrol was business as usual. When he neared, she pointed down the driveway toward the barn.

  “Go on, do your job! The goats are pastured already!”

  He hung his head guiltily as he trotted past her, his tongue lolling out as he panted from the effort of his morning run. A smear of red on his muzzle made her pause. Maybe he’d caught whatever he’d been chasing. Or maybe he’d found himself some roadkill. Dogs were gross like that.

  Now she just needed to locate Jenny. She darted a guilty look back at the house, weighing whether to go back inside or make a quick sweep for the dog.

  On the monitor, she could hear Nia’s chatter. “Brother wanna car? Brother wanna bear?” she asked, her voice wheedling and high-pitched. She must be finding toys around the living room to toss into the playpen with Jaden.

  Satisfied that they were safe and occupied, Allison walked up the road the way Chauncy had come, bracing herself to find Jenny with her head inside a dead deer or worse, rolling in a skunk carcass. It didn’t take long to spot the fresh skid marks, black against the dusty asphalt. She quickened her steps, scanning the shoulders of the highway on both sides for whatever poor animal had been killed—and hopefully, the guilty wag of Jenny’s tail in the tall grass.

  But there was nothing. At the end of the skid marks, nothing. She poked around the area and finally spotted a dark pool that had already seeped into the dusty space between where the asphalt ended and the vegetation began.

  Blood. A few yellow hairs stuck to it, the exact shade of a yellow Labrador. Had Jenny been hit by a car?

  Allison was suddenly cold. Colder than she should be on a summer morning, even at this early hour. She rubbed her upper arms through her sweatshirt and shivered as she parted the grass by the side of the road and scanned the ditch and the brush beyond it for any sign of the dog.

  “Jenny?” she called, holding her breath as she waited for an answer. A bark, a whine, anything. The only sound was the breeze ruffling the leaves on the blackberry bushes and vine maples at the edge of the woods. Allison picked up the pace as she walked along the shoulder, scanning both sides for any sign of Jenny. A clump of hair, a drop of blood, bent grass, a soft whine. But there was nothing. The dog was just—gone. Like a ghost. Wherever Jenny was, it wasn’t here.

  The fact that she wasn’t around was a good sign, wasn’t it? It meant that even if she’d been hit, she wasn’t hurt too badly. Or maybe she just left her fur behind when she dragged off some roadkill.

  A shrill beep from baby monitor clipped to Allison’s waist let her know that she was moving out of range. The warning sent a jolt of adrenaline through her so strong that she nearly bit her tongue.

  It meant the end of her search. It meant Jenny might have to stay out here, wherever she was. Suddenly the dark, mossy woods, a sight that usually felt welcoming to someone who spent a childhood playing among the trees, seemed ominous.

  Allison checked the area one last time before turning back to the house, a pit in her stomach. What was she going to tell Myra? She sucked in her breath and blew it out slowly as she headed back down the driveway, quickening her steps to a jog when Jaden’s squall came, loud and clear, through the receiver.

  “No, no, no!”

  Why could toddlers always say “no” clearly, even when all their other words were babytalk? She opened the front door and immediately saw the reason for his distress. Jaden stood in the pack-n-play, his arms outstretched toward his sister. Nia was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table, a sippy cup in each hand as she took alternate gulps from each.

  “Did you take Brother’s milk?” Allison asked, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice as she lifted Nia off the table and extricated Jaden’s sippy from her right hand.

  Nia popped the spout of the other cup out of her mouth as she shook her head. “I not take. I trade.”

  So that was why she’d been offering him toys. It was all a ploy to get him to give up his cup. Allison chuckled as she rinsed the lid and returned it to Jaden to keep him occupied while she made their toast. When they’d finished eating breakfast and she’d wrestled them out of their pajamas and into play clothes, she heard the buzz of her phone against the hard surface of the kitchen counter. She left the kids in the bedroom and went out to check her notifications.

  A text from Myra. A picture of Crystal, exhausted and pale, with the smushed little face of a just-born baby held next to her in the gloved hands of a nurse. Crystal’s eyes were closed, her expression pure bliss at the feel of that tiny cheek. A caption came a moment later. “It’s a boy! Isaac, Junior.”

  Allison blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes and called to the kids. “Come over here, sweethearts! I want you to see your new brother.”

  Chapter 5

  Allison didn’t have much time to think about Jenny for the rest of the morning, though she must have checked out the front window ten times for any sign of the dog limping down the highway. When the kids got restless after lunch, she set them up in the back yard with bowls of water and little toys to dunk in them. She positioned a plastic lawn chair so she could see the kids and the end of the driveway, and for the first time all day, she was able to relax a little bit.

  Crystal was fine. Baby Isaac was healthy. Jaden and Nia were happy. And Jenny—well. She’d come home or she wouldn’t. That was how life worked. Things happened and you had to deal with it. Sometimes your husband lost his memory overnight, and you had to carry on loving him even when he didn’t love you back.

  Just like Emily would have to deal with the fact that her fiancé might not be the person she thought he was. The life she had with him was all an illusion, a fantasy he and his mother had manufactured. Unfortunately, Allison was the one who had to deliver the bad news, both to Myra about her dog and to Emily about Zack.

  She swallowed hard and pushed down the sadness that welled in her chest, trying instead to think about the things that were going right. Elaine was behind bars. The library was safe for now. Emily and Paul were connecting more and more all the time. Myra had a new grandbaby. Her own job as enrichment coordinator at the memory care center was more rewarding than she’d ever dreamed. And Paul seemed to believe that he’d once loved her—even if he didn’t right now. Plus, there was dough rising in the kitchen. What could be better than fresh bread sticks with dinner?

  “Puppies?” Nia asked hopefully, tugging Allison’s sleeve as she leaned toward the barn.

  Allison smiled at her and pushed up from her chair. That was exactly the distraction she needed. “Yes. Pupp
ies. Let’s go see them. I bet they’re ready to eat again.”

  The rest of the afternoon flew by in a haze of chubby yellow Lab puppies, goldfish crackers, naps for everyone, and cartoons. Allison installed Nia in front of a Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood episode while she made the dinner Myra prescribed in her notes—spaghetti marinara, with zucchini from the garden “hidden” in the sauce—while enjoying the smell of the bread baking in the oven. After a lengthy search, Allison located a colander under a set of mixing bowls. She was just draining the spiral-shaped pasta in the sink when she heard the crackle of a car pulling into the gravel driveway and then saw Myra exiting the truck.

  She met her at the door, still wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Everything OK?”

  Myra beamed, the glow of her smile almost eclipsing the deep rings under her eyes. “Crystal’s doing well. Baby’s nursing. I thought I’d come home to take a shower and sleep. Now where are my ba—well I guess they’re not the babies anymore, are they? My big kids. Oh, my.” She shook her head, a tear making a bright streak down her cheek and pooling in her dimple, and Allison gave her an impetuous hug.

  “They’re still babies, don’t worry. And you’re just in time for dinner.”

  “Oh good. That hospital food has been great for my diet, but now I’m starving.” Myra patted her comfortable midsection.

  “You don’t need to diet.” Allison pursed her lips disapprovingly. Myra had a gorgeous figure. She ate healthy and was on her feet all day, and she was strong enough to lift most of her patients at Golden Gardens. Even though she had luscious curves, she didn’t have an ounce of jiggle on her sturdy frame. She was just right.

  “I might not need to if a certain someone didn’t bring in cookies every time she has a shift!” Myra smirked at her.

  Allison opened her mouth to protest that she only brought them once a week, but Myra shook her head. “Mm-mm. I need to go get some baby hugs. Anyway, what’s that smell?”

  That smell was the pasta sauce boiling over onto the burner. Allison dashed for the kitchen and rescued it before it became a total disaster, and they all sat down to eat around the small kitchen table as soon as the bread sticks were cooled enough that they wouldn’t burn little fingers. Jaden bounced eagerly in his seat and banged on his highchair as he waited for Allison to set his food on his tray.

  “How’d it go with them?” Myra asked over her shoulder, as she buckled Nia into her booster seat.

  “Perfectly, of course. They are angels.” Allison shot Nia a wink. Then she bit her lip, remembering the bad news she still had to deliver. Jenny still wasn’t back.

  Of course, Myra noticed. “But...?”

  Allison shook her head. “We can talk about it after dinner. Tell us about the new baby! How does it feel to be a grandmother of three?”

  “Well, it feels...” Myra frowned at her plate of pasta and then sighed as she set down her fork. “I can’t even think about it now that my mind is buzzing over what you have to say. You better just tell me before I go crazy. What happened?”

  Allison hesitated, wondering how to phrase it so it would be the least upsetting.

  “Jenny run away!” Nia announced, waving her bread stick to get Myra’s attention. Allison nodded. That was true—at last she hoped so, even though in the back of her mind, she had other suspicions.

  Myra shot Allison a look. “She hasn’t been back to feed the puppies?”

  Allison gave a single shake of her head. No. She knew why Myra had asked, and also understood the implications of her answer. Mama dogs didn’t just run off and leave their puppies all day.

  Myra’s forehead creased with worry, but she kept her voice light. “She’ll turn up.”

  They didn’t speak of it again while they ate, letting the conversation center around Nia and Jaden’s cute little habits. After dinner, Allison cleared the plates and refused to let Myra clean up. “Go sit. You’ve had a long day.”

  “I’ll keep you company, then.” Myra dragged a chair out from the table and sat near the sink, where she had a view of both Allison doing dishes and the kids playing on the floor in the living room. “Thank you so much for being their guardian angel. It’s been a load off my mind.”

  A worm of guilt squirmed in Allison’s stomach. “Sorry I couldn’t do the same for Jenny. After I finish these”—she motioned with sudsy hands to the dishes—“I’ll go feed the puppies again and do another sweep for her while it’s still light. I would have earlier, but the kids.”

  “They’re half weaned, at least.” Myra sighed. “The pups, I mean. They’ll be fine. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it all. I wasn’t expecting Crystal to have such a difficult birth. The doctors say she needs to rest. But you know how she is. She won’t stay in bed if I’m not here to make her. She’ll be out in the filberts or in the barn with those dogs or wrestling the kids on the floor if I don’t lay down the law.”

  “Let me take them home with me.” Allison rinsed the soap out of the spaghetti pot and turned to face Myra while she dried it with the blue-and-white checked dish towel.

  “I don’t know—I want them used to being around the baby. They need to adjust to getting less attention, not more.”

  A laugh escaped Allison’s lips before she could stop it. “No, not the kids. The puppies! Let me take the puppies until Jenny comes back.”

  Myra’s face sobered. “You know she isn’t going to,” she said in a low voice. “I saw skid marks on the highway when I was driving in. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”

  “We don’t know that.” Allison turned away to stow the dry pot in the cupboard to hide her face as she remembered the dark pool of blood soaking into the dust.

  “I know Jenny. If she could come back, she would.”

  “Well. Why don’t I take them off your hands? One less thing on your list. If Jenny doesn’t turn up, I bet Rachael can find homes for them, easy.” Rachael Ashwood owned a ranch just a mile up from the Crystal and Myra’s filbert farm and ran Oregon Tails Dog Rescue out of the kennel in her barn. Allison had been fostering dogs for her for years, even before Paul lost his memories. “Cute puppies like those? People are going to fight over them. Unless you were planning to sell them,” she added quickly. “That’s fine, too. I don’t have to call her.”

  Myra shook her head. “Oh, no. It’d be nice to cover the cost of their shots and such, but finding them somewhere to go is just another chore I don’t need. It’d be a relief, honestly.”

  “It’s settled, then. The puppies are taken care of.” Allison offered Myra an encouraging smile. “Crystal and baby Isaac are getting good care at the hospital. And those two”—she nodded toward the living room—“are happy as clams. Now you can rest. Put your feet up.”

  Myra nodded, but her forehead creased as she watched Jaden and Nia take turns stacking blocks on the coffee table and then knocking them down. “What am I going to tell the kids?”

  “Tell them the truth as you know it,” Allison said. A little squeeze of heartache sent a lump to her throat. It sounded so easy, telling the truth. But when she remembered the truth that she eventually had to tell Emily, it wasn’t so simple. The wound it would cause—and the pain she’d feel herself at causing her daughter’s grief—was necessary. But it still cut deep.

  Myra gave a deep sigh. “You’re right. I just hate it. I can’t believe someone would hit a dog and just drive off like that. They had to know she lived around here. They could have at least come knock on the door. Didn’t they think about the people who’d miss her?”

  Allison folded the dishtowel and set it on the counter. “Not everyone has a heart like you.”

  “Maybe I should wait on telling them. She might still come back.” Myra’s mouth twisted as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

  Allison nodded even though, in her heart of hearts, she knew it was impossible. “Maybe.”

  Chapter 6

  Tuesday

  “No—don’t do that!” Allison almost tripped on the edge of the rug
as she dashed to snatch a memory book out of the biggest puppy’s mouth. He’d already managed to dent one corner with his needlelike teeth. She wiped off the cover on the hem of her blouse and stowed the book on a high shelf where the little guy couldn’t reach it.

  She lifted him up and tucked him under her arm, enjoying the feel of his plump, warm belly as she carried him back to the dining room and the wire pen there. Somehow, he’s escaped it. Again. She reinforced the enclosure where he’d pushed apart the panels, and then tucked him in among his napping littermates. He ignored them, his eyes fixed on her. When she didn’t pick him up again, he whined at her.

  “I can’t play with you right now. I need to find a book,” Allison said sternly, her hands on her hips. “It’s not as easy as it seems.”

  She looked past the puppy pen, where Paul’s torn-out memory page, the one she’d manage to salvage from Elaine’s stash before Zack whisked everything into a storage unit somewhere, lay on the dining room table, surrounded by a stack of books. Each of the titles she’d pulled from the shelves had the potential to be the page’s home.

  Falling in Love.

  Workplace Romance.

  Crushes.

  But which one was the right book for this page? It could belong in any of them.

  She tipped open the cover of Falling in Love, a thick, maroon volume, and scanned the table of contents, a simple list of names. She recognized many of them. Everyone fell in love some time or another, it seemed—and some people many times!

  She chuckled softly when she noticed “Mitchell, Myra” among the names. Of course, it’d contain Myra’s memories of falling in love with Al, her late husband. Allison’s fingers itched to turn to Myra’s chapter and find out, but she stopped herself.

  Myra deserved some privacy. Everyone did. Well, almost everyone. “Kirkpatrick, Elaine” was listed on the page, too. Allison shuddered—she had no interest in experiencing Elaine’s love for Keith Claypool. For some reason the idea disgusted her, perhaps because she preferred to think of Elaine as just plain evil, not someone susceptible to the depth of human connection. Right now, the last thing she needed was sympathy for her worst enemy.