The next morning, Joanna was at Portland’s Central Library when its doors opened. A warm breeze rustled the leaves on the thick-trunked elms out front, casting a moving pattern of light on the sidewalk. Joanna waited on the steps while guards unlocked tall iron gates.
Inside, she climbed the curving marble staircase to the second floor, where the information desk shared a high-ceilinged room with the science collection and several rows of tables with computer terminals. The tables were beginning to fill with an odd combination of kids. Lots of them.
“Joanna, nice to see you.” The pink-haired woman at the desk set down her coffee mug and smiled. With her full sleeves of tattoos and multiple piercings, she stood the cliché of “straight-laced librarian” on its head. “First customer of the day.”
“Hi, Kelsey. I brought you a present.” Joanna laid a pair of lemon yellow wrist-length dress gloves on the counter. “I thought you could wear them riding your bike. In the fall, before it gets too cold, but when you need a little something.”
Kelsey beamed. “These are terrific. You wouldn’t mind if I cut off the fingertips?”
“I was counting on it.”
“Thank you.” The librarian held the gloves at arm’s length for a quick examination, then tucked them under the counter. “Now, how can I help you? Looking for a little more info on the relationship between Poiret and Schiaparelli? Or maybe you found a new costume jewelry mark?”
Joanna laughed. “No, none of that. I’m looking for an old movie script.”
“Is it something obscure? We don’t have a huge collection here, but I could probably order one through interlibrary loan.”
“The film was called Starlit Wonder. It was made sometime in the mid-fifties but never released. I know it’s a long shot, but could you check, anyway?”
“I’ll take a look.”
As the librarian clicked through screens on her computer, a few more teenagers filed in and slumped at tables. “Why so many kids today?” Joanna asked.
“It’s the Story Challenge next week. We’ve been busy.” Kelsey furrowed her brow. “I’m not finding anything so far.”
“What’s the Story Challenge?”
“A competition. The library hosts it every year during summer vacation. Middle schoolers across town read the same book, then they compete to answer questions about it. The winning team gets lunch with the governor.” She pushed back from the computer. “I’m not finding the script. Are you sure you have the title right?”
“I think so. Would it help to know some of the cast? The wardrobe was by Edith Head, and one of the actresses was Kelly Rampton.” Rampton’s name had stuck in Joanna’s mind, the only clue she had about the movie besides its name. “At least, I think that’s it.”
“No Kelly, but I do get a Callie. Could that be it? No listing of Starlit Wonder in the movie database, though.”
“Try the script writer’s personal papers,” said a voice behind her.
She turned to find a freckled girl with sandy red hair and a serious expression. The girl quickly averted her eyes from Joanna’s. Despite the late summer heat, she wore a light coat buttoned up to her neck. The coat was dusty beige with faux leather buttons and was probably sold with matching slacks—or maybe gauchos—at about the same time Tony Orlando and Dawn were on the radio’s Top 40 playlist.
“That’s a good idea,” the librarian said. “You don’t happen to know the writer’s name, do you?”
“No, I don’t. That’s all I’ve got.”
Kelsey dropped her hands from the keyboard. “I’m afraid I need more than this to go on. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, anyway. It was worth a try.”
That was it, then. A dead end. It was probably for the best. Paul wouldn’t want her getting involved, and Detective Roscoe didn’t seem especially receptive, either.
To distract herself from her disappointment, Joanna turned to the redheaded girl. “That’s a mid-1970s duster, isn’t it? Maybe the JC Penney’s house label?”
“I don’t know,” the girl said, once again avoiding her eyes.
“Stay-pressed twill really holds the heat. You must be warm.”
Now the girl met her gaze. “I’m fine.”
Joanna read the warning in her voice. “My name’s Joanna. I own a vintage clothing store. That’s why I asked about your coat.”
The girl’s expression relaxed. “I’m Mindy. How come you don’t try to look up the script yourself?”
“I don’t have a computer.”
Joanna had spent her adult life watching as telephones went touch-tone, then became cordless, then ended up in purses with the ability to answer every question from John Wayne’s birthdate to the name of the last ruler of the Ottoman Empire. People loved those phones. They viewed art exhibitions and mountain landscapes through its camera, communicated every few minutes with their thumbs, and couldn’t find the optometrist’s office without help from its GPS.
Joanna refused to give in. For one, she adored the slide of paper through her fingers and the weight of a telephone’s handset. She saw no reason people couldn’t wait a few hours to talk to her instead of expecting an instant reply text. And then there was the fact that older handbags were big enough only for a lipstick, sunglasses, and keys.
Giving technology the cold shoulder had its drawbacks, of course. One of them being the need to rely on the library’s information desk. By now, she knew all the staff’s clothing sizes and best colors.
Mindy squinted at her as if she’d emerged from Starlit Wonder herself. “You’re joking.”
“Not a bit.”
“Not even a cell phone?”
“Nope. Mine has a dial and a cord attaching it to the wall.”
“Hi, Mindy.” Two girls slid into chairs across from Mindy. Although they greeted the redhead, they stared at Joanna.
“Hi. I’m Joanna. So, are you girls here for the competition, too?”
“Yeah,” the girl with the black pixie cut said. Her fingernails were ragged and painted in peeling gold glitter. She pushed a non-existent hank of hair away from her eyes.
What an interesting group. Joanna shifted her examination to the third girl, who had thick eyelashes and a layer of baby fat that would likely burn off by high school. This girl dropped her gaze instantly. From the set of her lips, it was clear she didn’t plan on talking.
“Do you have a name for your team?”
Joanna was beginning to feel some interest in the book competition. Maybe she didn’t have a fancy phone, but she was a big reader. She glanced around the room. A posse of sharply groomed girls and boys, each of whom seemed to have either glasses or painfully white new tennis shoes, came into the room. Mindy and her friends were the underdogs. Not only was Joanna a reader, she was a fan of the underdog.
Mindy mumbled something Joanna couldn’t quite make out.
“I’m sorry,” Joanna said. “The what?”
“Book Bunnies,” the brunette said. “We’re the Book Bunnies.”
A trim, tidy girl with a precise bob that probably echoed her mother’s walked past the table. “Hello, Book Bunnies. I guess you’d better hop to studying if you want to beat us.” The girl snickered.
Joanna watched the girl take a seat across the room. “Who was that comedic genius?”
“She’s from another team. Athena’s Warriors, they’re called,” Mindy said.
“Hmm. I’ll be rooting for you,” Joanna said. “Go, Book Bunnies.”
Mindy smiled. When Joanna caught her eyes, she ducked her head and stared at the table. Joanna handed her a business card. “If you ever decide you want a new coat, come see me.”
Mindy slipped the card into her pocket without looking either at her or the card.