The police patrol car responded to the dispatcher’s directions and sped to the Warrenstown Public Library. A middle-aged woman stood in the parking lot. Tears were streaming down her face.
“I got here to open up, and the doors were unlocked,” she sobbed. “For a minute I was annoyed with Theresa. I thought she hadn’t locked up properly last night. But then…” The woman covered her eyes with her hands.
“But then, what, ma’am?”
“But then, I went inside and turned on the lights and found her. Theresa was lying on the floor beside the circulation desk. I bent down to help her get up, and that’s when I saw all the blood. She was so cold. I could tell she was dead.” The woman wrapped her arms around herself as she shook.
“You stay right here, ma’am.” The patrolman opened the double doors and went into the library. The fluorescent lighting glared on the figure lying facedown on the floor next to the front desk. The patrolman knelt on one knee, careful not to touch the dark blood, and, positioning his hands around the body, turned the dead weight over.
The patrolman couldn’t be sure if the victim’s face had been stuck in an expression of surprise or terror. But there was no question at all that Theresa Templeton’s eyes were wide open and her throat had been skewered by the metal letter opener that lay beside her.