“I hear you.” Feeling a little awkward, I coughed to clear my throat. “Look, what I really wanted to talk to you about is the book you gave me. Little Women.”
He glanced up from his broom. “Not sure what you want to know. Tell you the truth, I just saw the book, noticed what kind of shape it was in, and thought that if you could fix it, I’d give it away at the auction. Didn’t really look at the inside pages.”
I couldn’t believe that. Clyde was a book buyer and a booklover. How could he not be curious? “It was published in 1868, which makes it a first edition, but I think the cover has been updated. That might diminish its value slightly, but I still think it could be worth thousands of dollars if I do a good enough job on it. Oh, and it’s supposed to have a second volume. Did you see one in that Grass Valley bookshop?”
“Nope.”
Okay, that reaction sounded truthful.
“Did you pay a lot for it?”
“Nope.”
“How much was it?”
“Rather not say.” He suddenly got real busy staring at the floor. It was a wonder he had anything to sweep up since he kept his shop so clean. He was clearly avoiding eye contact with me. Which led me to believe, once again, that he had lied about where he got the book. And I was shocked that he wouldn’t tell me how much he’d paid for it.
“Clyde, what’s up? I know you’re not paying me to trace the provenance, but when I see a book like this one, I get curious. Like, where did it come from? Who owned it last? I want to know these things. Because I’m a book nerd, just like you.”
The door opened and another customer walked in. Clyde looked relieved and immediately called out, “Be right with you!”
I exchanged a glance with Derek. Would Clyde take the opportunity to blow us off and go help the new customer?
“Hey, Clyde, it’s just me,” a voice said from behind us.
Derek and I both turned and I almost sagged with relief. “Gabriel.”
“Hey, babe,” he said. “Derek. You looking for books?”
“All the time,” Derek said.
I smiled, happy that Gabriel was here to help us triple-team Clyde.
“We were just asking Clyde about the Little Women book he asked me to refurbish.”
“Oh yeah. Neat book. Interesting story.” He gazed at Clyde. “Brooklyn told me you got that book at the co-op in Grass Valley. Man, I would love to find a book like that in some out of the way place. How’d you get so lucky?”
Clyde shrugged. “It happens.”
“Yeah.” Gabriel’s tone implied that asteroids also plowed into the earth, but it didn’t happen often. “I plan to go back and take a closer look at their inventory. Which of the sellers did you get the book from?”
Clyde gave Gabriel a dirty look, then glared at me. “You people are nothing but trouble.”
Feeling a twinge of guilt, I said, “I don’t mean to trouble you, Clyde. I’ve always treasured your shop because I know you love books as much as I do. So that’s why I was wondering about the copy of Little Women. But if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. I’ll still fix it up nicely and it’ll get a decent price at the silent auction.”
“That’s all I want,” he muttered.
“I don’t really believe that’s all you want. You know as well as I do that if you want to get your money’s worth, you’d be better off selling it to a rare book expert or the Covington Library. They’ll pay you what it’s worth. Maybe ten or twelve thousand dollars, or even more after it’s repaired.”
Gabriel leaned against the counter and studied his nails. “So what’s the deal, Clyde?”
He threw up his hands. “Aargh! You’ll all be the death of me.”
“It’s just me, Clyde.” I smiled at him and added, “And I definitely don’t want to be the death of you.”
“Humph,” he grunted.
Gabriel took one step toward Clyde. “Who do I have to kick around to get an honest answer from you?”
Clyde’s eyeballs widened. “Don’t you go all tough guy on me.”
“Gabriel,” I said, slapping one hand out in front of him to stop him. “Cut it out.”
He chuckled. “Come on, babe. Sometimes you gotta fight dirty.”
“No we don’t. Just forget we asked.” I looked at Derek. “We should go.”
“Chill, babe,” Gabriel said. “This is just the way Clyde and I negotiate.”
I blinked. “Really? By haranguing and threatening each other?”
“Works for us, right, Clyde? So where’d you get that book?”
“Yes,” I said. “Please tell us where it came from.”
Clyde let go of a huge sigh. “Fine. If it’s any of your business, I got it from Lawson.”
* * *
• • •
Well, that shut everyone up for a full minute. Maybe longer. I stared up at Derek, then shot a look at Gabriel. He didn’t look as shocked as I felt, but he’d definitely been taken by surprise, I could tell.
I’d had enough of the stunned silence. “I hate to state the obvious, but Lawson is dead.”
“Tell me about it,” Clyde grumbled.
I still felt as though I’d been sucker punched. “Clyde, did you kill Lawson?”
“Aw, come on! Brooklyn, you know me better than that!”
“Just checking,” I said. “When did he give you the book?”
“Right after the meeting,” Clyde confessed. “You know, after Banyan threatened your mom. Lawson was freaking out because Banyan had attacked him, too.”
You’re nothing but a thief and a liar.
Was Banyan talking about the book or the festival funds? Or was there something else going on? I wondered. “I remember,” I said.
“Yeah, well.” Clyde leaned his elbow on the broom. “Lawson was really nervous, which was understandable. So after the meeting, he pulled me aside to show me the book and asked me to keep it.”
I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, because I was seriously wondering what in the world was going on. Finally I asked, “When he said ‘keep it,’ did he mean ‘keep it safe for him,’ or did he mean, ‘keep it, it’s yours’?”
“He wanted me to hang onto it for a few days,” Clyde insisted. “He was nervous. He knew it was worth a lot of money and he was worried that it might get stolen.”
“Why would he think that?”
Clyde’s cheeks puffed out as he exhaled heavily. “I don’t know but somebody was trying to freak him out.”
“Freak him out how?”
Clyde shrugged. “Calling his phone, and then hanging up. Throwing rocks through his window. Little stuff that was really putting him on edge.”
I looked from Derek to Gabriel, and then frowned at Clyde. A rock thrown through a window hardly counted as little stuff, but that was just me. And who was to say those attacks had anything to do with the book?
“Was it Banyan?” Derek asked.
Clyde used his hands to emphasize his words. “I don’t know!”
“Okay,” I said calmly. “So he was being harassed. But why would he think it was connected with the book? I mean, we now know that he stole all of the festival funds. Maybe his harasser knew that he’d done that.”
“He didn’t say anything about the money,” Clyde said. “He just wanted to make sure the book was safe.”
“But then you gave it to me to refurbish. Did he know you were going to do that?”
“No, but he wouldn’t have minded. You’d make it look a lot better than it did.”
While that was true, I felt a little weird that Lawson hadn’t known.
“Did he tell the police about the harassment?” Derek asked.
“I doubt it.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Sounds like he didn’t want the police to dig too deeply into his activities.”
/> Clyde pointed at Gabriel. “Exactly.”
“When you got the book, weren’t you frightened?”
“Why would I be? Nobody knew I had it. I figured I’d give it to you to clean up and then I’d give it back to Lawson. But then they killed him, so I don’t want it back. Bad juju. So I’ll sell it in the silent auction. Get rid of it. Figured whoever was scaring the pants off of Lawson could maybe bid on it during the auction.”
That might be one way to lure the killer into the light, I realized. Assuming that the killer actually cared about the book. He might’ve been after the festival funds and didn’t know anything about the book. “So when you gave the book to me the other afternoon, Lawson was still alive.”
“Yeah.” He pressed his lips together in a tight frown. He looked downright miserable about losing his old friend.
“Are you sure nobody knows that Lawson gave the book to you?”
“Positive.”
I carefully watched his every movement and expression as I asked the next question. “Do you think somebody knows that I have the book now?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t tell anybody. Look, it’s not that big of a deal.”
I believed the part about him not telling anyone. But he was totally wrong about the part where it wasn’t that big of a deal. Because to me it was a really big, really bad deal.
But thank God he hadn’t told anyone else. That was something, I thought with relief. But another glance at Derek told me he wasn’t feeling the same. No. In fact, he was getting more and more furious by the second, because he knew that having this book in my possession was putting me in jeopardy.
I’d been here before. In jeopardy, that is. My husband still hated it and, frankly, I wasn’t really thrilled about it, either. I sighed. “Clyde, I have to ask you one more question. Was Lawson killed because of that book you gave me?”
“Huh?” Clyde just gawked at me for a really long moment, and then frowned deeply. “You crazy? No way. Lawson’s dead because he stole the money from the festival committee. I gotta believe that.” He glanced at Gabriel as if looking for corroboration, then turned to Derek for the same. Finally he stared at me like I was certifiably psycho-screwball-cuckoo crazy.
“I mean, come on,” he continued. “We’re talking about seventy thousand smackaroos! You said yourself the book’s only worth twelve grand at most. So doesn’t it make sense that he was killed over the committee money? Why would you think that a book, no matter how fancy it might be, would have anything to do with Lawson’s death?”
I stared at Derek, who was still beyond angry, then gazed at Gabriel, who was chuckling at the sheer wacked-out absurdity of the situation.
I had to just shake my head. Right? Because anyone who knew me knew without a doubt that every time I’d ever been involved in a murder investigation, it always had to do with a book.
Chapter 11
Out on the street, we said goodbye to Gabriel.
“Call me if you need me,” he said, then waved and walked off, his black leather duster brushing against his black leather boots, like a cowboy heading into the sunset.
I gazed up at Derek. “That went well.”
He choked on a laugh. “Bad enough that your mother was being threatened, but now you’re both in danger.” He raked his hand through his hair, a sure sign that he was thoroughly frustrated.
“On the upside, we don’t know for sure that I’m in danger this time.”
He gave me one of those endearing looks that clearly said, Brooklyn my love, I’m not an idiot.
“I’m so sorry.” I laid one hand on his arm. “I really hate this.”
“None of this is your fault, love.”
It was sweet of him to say it, but I didn’t really believe it. No matter what, somehow I always ended up in the middle of a mess. Good thing I was a bookbinder. Imagine what would have happened if I’d been something more dangerous. Like a hair stylist or something.
We started walking down the Lane, but something made me stop. I stared at the crosswalk and realized we were standing directly across the street from where my mother had almost been killed.
“Let’s cross the street,” I said, and took a step toward the curb.
Derek grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “That’s not a good idea.”
I gazed up at him. “I know you would check out the scene if I wasn’t with you, so let’s just go and get it over with.”
Derek knew it was useless to fight me so we crossed the street. He kept my arm firmly tucked in his, and when we reached the other side, I was really glad to have his support.
“There’s blood,” I whispered.
“Yes. She must’ve fallen right here.” He pointed. “And this is where her knee scraped the surface.”
I had to force myself to breathe steadily. This time it wasn’t at the mere sight of blood, but because it was my mother’s. Right there on the sidewalk.
There wasn’t a lot of blood and I knew she hadn’t been badly injured, but at that moment I wanted to kill Jacob Banyan.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Derek said quietly. “This won’t help you.”
“Yes, it will,” I said, gazing up at him and nodding. “Really. I want to remember everything I see here because it’ll give me the strength to fight this guy with all that’s inside me. Knowing she was hurt . . . knowing that she was meant to be killed . . .” I took a deep breath and reached inside for the balance Mom was always talking about.
But it wouldn’t come.
He stared at me and then nodded. “Then let’s take some time here. And I’ll ask Gabriel to keep tabs on the police investigation.”
“Good. But don’t tell them about the book. They might take it.”
I took a few minutes to imagine the scene. Stooping down, I touched the place on the sidewalk where my mother had scraped herself. And I counted the drops of blood. Six. It didn’t seem like that many, but those drops ripped away at my heart. And I pictured my father, angry and frightened and helpless as my mother cried out in pain.
Everything in me yearned for payback. I knew it wasn’t very civilized of me, but I didn’t care. Someone had hurt my mom and they were going to pay.
After another moment, I looked up at Derek. “Thanks. We can go now.”
We crossed the street and started walking toward the car. But when we reached the bakery, Derek stopped and checked his wristwatch.
I felt like I’d been sleepwalking. “What time is it?”
“Barely eleven. We’ve got plenty of time before we need to pick up your mother.”
“Can we go home for a little while?” I asked. “Talking to Clyde wore me out.”
“We have an agenda, darling,” he said with purpose. “Let’s go check out the dojo.”
I’d frankly forgotten all about the dojo, but didn’t say a word to Derek since he seemed to have figured that out already. I just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to Alex about my little lapse in memory. She would kick my butt.
We walked past Warped and a few more shops, then turned on a side street. Three doors down from the corner was the Dharma dojo.
I liked the place immediately. It was smaller than Alex’s place in the city, but just as clean and organized as hers.
As we were looking around, a man walked out of an interior office and headed straight for us. He was about my height, five foot eight, with dark hair and an olive complexion. And while he didn’t look like a bodybuilder, he was lean and muscular and solid. “Can I help you?”
“I sure hope so,” I said.
“We’d like to sign up for a couple of self-defense classes,” Derek said. “Refresher classes, actually.”
“You’re Alex’s friends,” he said.
“Right,” I said with some relief. “You’re Keith?”
“Yes.”
I reached out to s
hake his hand. “I’m Brooklyn and this is Derek.”
Derek shook Keith’s hand. “Derek Stone.”
“And you’re Brooklyn Wainwright,” Keith said, smiling now.
“I guess Alex already gave you our full names.”
“No, she just said to be on the lookout for Brooklyn and Derek. But I recognized you as a Wainwright because of your sister China. She’s one of my students. You look just like her.”
I felt my eyes widen. “China takes classes here?”
“Yes. She’s a green belt in tae kwon do.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn’t speak, I was so shocked. My younger sister was a green belt? I knew there were a bunch of different degrees and levels of proficiency within each color, but still, green was only two below a black belt. Holy moly. I clearly had some catching up to do. And I wanted to talk to China about this. Why hadn’t she ever said anything to me?
China was good at so many things, I had to wonder if she had knitted her own green belt.
“That’s lovely to hear, isn’t it?” Derek said to me, and slipped his arm securely around my waist as if he expected me to slither to the floor in a dead faint. “Perhaps she can teach you a few moves.”
“Uh, yeah.” I shook my head to clear my brain. “Sure. Wow. I’m amazed. That’s . . . fantastic.”
I let Derek take care of the paperwork with Keith, setting up a schedule of classes every other day for the next week. By the time we were ready to leave the dojo, I had my act together, sort of.
Of course by this point, Keith probably thought I had taken a vow of silence or something. So I would have to make up for lost time.
“I really appreciate you fitting us into your schedule,” I said brightly. “I’m looking forward to learning some new moves.”
He gave a brief bow, as he would have if we’d just finished a session. “I look forward to having both of you in my dojo. And soon, Brooklyn, we’ll have practiced enough simple moves that you’ll be confident to defend yourself in any situation.”
“That’s our goal,” Derek said, and bowed in the same way Keith had.
“Thank you so much, Keith,” I said with a smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
The Grim Reader Page 18
