Jenkins was feeling out of sorts that afternoon. He had yet to hear from the Librarian and it was bothering him. He wasn't sure why exactly, after all it had only been a few hours since she'd departed for Oklahoma. He scoffed, Mr. Carsen sometimes had gone for days without contact and he'd come to expect that.

But the new Librarian was a horse of a different color entirely. Ms. Cillian was very organized, punctual and frequently in touch. At first it seemed far, far too much, it was simply unnecessary for her to call as often as she did. But as the months went by, he'd come to expect that. And now that she was acting seemingly out of character, Jenkins did worry.

This was a simple retrieval job. The only trouble the Librarian might have run into was in the location of the Indian. If the Indian had been destroyed years ago, she would have returned by now. If larceny was needed to retrieve the stone (for example from a closed museum), then Ms. Cillian would have called asking for Mr. Jones. And if she was so foolish as to have been caught by a small town sheriff breaking and entering, she certainly would have called.

He couldn't imagine that too many magical threats surrounded Wahya, Oklahoma. The stone was on the general list, which meant that it had not been active for many years. It was likely that no one alive even knew that the statue had anything inside of it in the first place.

No, he sincerely doubted the Librarian had encountered anything of the sort there. He sighed, rolling his eyes at himself and feeling foolish for the worry. He'd never worried about previous Librarians for being out of contact for a few hours. And Librarians as a rule were prone to distractions. Be it a fascinating photograph collection or a series of caves for exploration or the county's best pie. He chuckled, given Ms. Cillian's interesting fashion sense, she'd probably been distracted by a vintage shop and would be coming home shortly with the stone and a few shopping bags. It wouldn't be the first time. Mr. Carsen used to come back with food. And he shuddered to think about what young Mr. Jones would be bringing back. . . .

Still after another hour passed, Jenkins found himself picking up the phone. He heard a muttered "off," then Cassandra's bright voice, "Hello, Mr. Jenkins. What can I do for you?"

"I was inquiring as to how the retrieval was going."

"Oh, that," she said, he could hear some scribbling. "I've already got that done."

"If that is the case, then why have you failed to return?"

"The stone isn't immediately dangerous is it?" she asked. " The owner had the Indian propped up in the corner of his office. It hasn't stood out front since the 80s and I don't think they even knew anything was in it."

"No, it is not, but what may I ask are you doing?"

"Oh," Cassandra's voice sounded sheepish. "You know how we meet someone and do that 'I'm the Librarian' thing and the person we're talking to thinks we belong?"

"Is this leading somewhere, Ms. Cillian?"

"Oh, anyway, the owner, Mr. Stone, well he thinks I'm the bookkeeper the state promised to send him. And Jenkins, his books are a mess. Goodness. This poor man. And he has three kids and he's been making me tea and I don't think the kids have a mom cuz there's no pictures of her in here and . . . ."

Jenkins pinched the bridge of his nose. "So you'll just doing the books then?"

"Yes, you know, I can't resist a challenge. And believe me, this is a challenge. The stone is safely with me, I promise, I went over and got it an hour ago."

Jenkins sighed. "Very well. Please keep in touch, won't you?"

"I missed you too, Mr. Jenkins."

Jenkins huffed. "I will be in contact if you are needed at the Library while you are playing bookkeeper."

"Thank you and thanks for checking on me."

Jenkins hung up and shook his head. This was certainly different. But it had been quiet and maybe it would do Ms. Cillian some good to spend time with other people. He enjoyed the solitary life and so did Mr. Jones. But the Librarian was a different creature. She would have been a social butterfly if her life had been different. First her health, then her inability to control her magical abilities, then her job with the Library had robbed her of chances to be with people. So he shrugged and let it go. With her gone and Mr. Jones off treasure hunting, he would have some precious moments of peace and quiet. And with that happy thought, he was off to make tea.

Cassandra sighed as she looked at the figures. This was not good. She was missing some data though and she was going to have to ask Mr. Stone for more information. She also looked at the time on her phone, Jenkins was going to have a fit and she was getting hungry. She needed to get back to the Library soon.

She heard a little noise and almost gasped when she met a pair of blue eyes staring somberly at her over the edge of the desk. The little girl barely made it over the edge, all Cassandra could see were curls and eyes.

"Well hello there," she said. "I didn't meet you earlier."

The child just stared at her for a couple of more minutes. Cassandra bit her lip, she really wasn't used to talking to children and she wasn't quite sure why the child was just staring.

"I'm Cassandra, what's your name?"

"Abby," the girl said in a voice above a whisper. Then she quickly looked away.

Shy thought Cassandra.

Then the girl looked back at her and blurted, "you're pretty," then turned red like it was the bravest thing she'd done all day.

Cassandra smiled softly, "thank you very much, Abby. You're pretty too."

Abby giggled a little and took a deep breath, like she was being very brave. She walked around the edge of the desk. "Whatcha doing?"

Given the eyes were identical to the man who owned the store and the fact that the girl was in the back, Cassandra figured it was a safe guess that she was one of the Stone children. "I'm helping your daddy with some math."

Abby nodded, eyes wide. "Daddy needs help with math. He always has our granny help Gracie with her homework. My teacher says I'm gonna be good with math though!"

"I bet you'll be the one helping your sisters with their homework," Cassandra said smiling.

Abby nodded. "I'm smart!"

Jacob stood in the doorway, watching, his mouth partly open. He had seen Abby wander in the back and had intended to usher her out and let Ms. Cillian get back to work. But he'd not seen Abby, who was now counting to 100 by tens to Cassandra, warm up that fast to a stranger. Hell, she had trouble warming up to people she'd known her whole life. But the bookkeeper had work to do, so he came in.

"Abby, you gotta let Ms. Cillian do her job."

"Oh, she's no bother at all. I love to meet another girl who loves math." Cassandra smiled. "But actually I do need to talk to your daddy about something. How about I see you tomorrow?"

"Okay! Bye Cassandra!" And she skipped out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that. But, to be honest, she's not good with strangers, so I kinda let her talk to you longer than I should've. I hope she didn't bother you."

Cassandra shook her head. "Not at all. I honestly needed to talk to you before I went further anyway."

He groaned, taking a seat across from her. "It's bad news, ain't it?"

Cassandra took a deep breath. "Well, I can't say for certain. I'm missing a big chunk of last year's records. And actually the first quarter of this year is dicey. Would you have copies somewhere?"

"I can call on Miss Agnes first thing in the morning. I might have this years at home. Would it trouble you to come back tomorrow?"

"Not at all, I'm available for a few days."

"Ah, staying at the hotel in the next town?"

"Yes, exactly. And I should be getting going actually. See you around 9 tomorrow?"

"Ten would be better. If that's alright?"

"Until then."

"I'd walk you out but . . . ."

Jacob was interrupted by a dark haired woman poking her head in the room. "Jacob? Mr. Miller is here and I can't lift those bags to help him get them in his truck."

"I'll be right there, Mabel. Thanks."

"Duty calls, I'll see you tomorrow."

"No problem," Cassandra said.

As soon as he was safely gone, she texted Jenkins and stepped through a nearby closet door back into the Library.

"Where's Ezekiel?" Cassandra asked when Jenkins had returned from putting the stone away.

"Out for dinner, probably won't be back this evening. Ms. Cillian . . . ."

"Jenkins, it's alright. Isn't helping people part of the job?"

Jenkins smiled fondly at her. "Ah, Mr. Jones scoffs at your kindness but Mr. Carsen and I always thought it was an asset. Honestly, I suppose it won't hurt anyone for you to help out for a few days. Might do you some good to get out into the world."

"Though," Cassandra sighed. "I don't know how much help I'm gonna be." She shook her head. "His business isn't doing so well. And it's a shame. Ninety-nine years in business and I don't think they'll make it to one hundred unless I can find some magical solution in the missing paperwork he's trying to find for me."

Jenkins shook his head. "That is a shame," he patted her shoulder. "Though if anyone can find a solution, I daresay it would be you."

Then he disappeared towards his quarters. Cassandra gathered her things. She was going to need dinner and sleep.