Like a Charm

by Candace Havens

  “I don’t know what to say.” I was honest. “You could have called.”

  He laughed. “I wanted you to know how serious we are about you. You’re one of the most brilliant legal minds I’ve come across in years. Your instincts are some of the best I’ve ever seen, especially for one so young. That deal you put together between Myers and Zeb Corp. made your company more than a billion dollars. And you did it in a way that was beneficial to both organizations, made them stronger…” He was interrupted when the door blew open and Sam came skating into the library.

  I jumped up. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  He stopped so fast he almost fell over. He wore his white lab coat over a starched blue shirt and tie. “Are you okay?” He gasped out the words.

  “Yes. Why?”

  He took a deep breath. “Caleb called. He couldn’t get hold of the sheriff. He said some guy from Atlanta was giving you trouble, and that he’d landed here in Sweet. Told me to rush over and save your—” He gave Grayson a nasty look.

  It took a minute for my brain to switch into gear. I laughed.

  Mr. Grayson stood up slowly, watching the spectacle.

  “I’m fine. Sam, this is Mr. Grayson. He owns one of the investment firms,” I cleared my throat, “where I’ve been interviewing. He flew in to talk to me personally. About a job.”

  Confusion ran over Sam’s face and he frowned. “So he’s not trying to—oh.”

  I laughed again. “No.” I turned to Mr. Grayson. “I’m sorry. I have an over-protective boyfriend who seems to know my every move even though he’s on business in Japan.”

  I had no idea how Caleb knew Mr. Grayson had arrived, but I would deal with him later.

  “Sam, you can go back to work now.”

  He was still trying to catch his breath.

  “Oh. Yeah.” He reached out a hand. “Mr. Grayson, nice to meet you. Sorry. We’re all kind of protective of our Kira.”

  “I find that quite admirable, Doctor.”

  The absurdity of the situation made me smile again. “I’m so sorry about this. I couldn’t begin to explain even if I tried. Do you have time for breakfast? I’d love to give you a little taste of Sweet before you go, and we can continue our talk.”

  He glanced at his watch, which I noticed cost more than most peoples’ homes. “I do have some time.”

  I shooed Sam out the door. “You better call me later and tell me what the hell Caleb was so worried about,” Sam whispered.

  I nodded.

  I took Mr. Grayson by the arm. “I think the very least I owe you is breakfast.” If nothing else, the twins drooling over the handsome older man might help him forget all of this nonsense.

  He’d have his hands full with Ms. Johnnie and Ms. Helen, and maybe if I was in a public place, Caleb would stop sending in the cavalry.

  * * *

  Cool-Looking Old Guys

  Sean Connery

  Clint Eastwood

  Mr. Grayson

  Paul Newman

  Ian McKellen

  * * *

  Chapter 27

  Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me.

  THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

  By Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866–1946

  Call #: F-WEL

  Description: xxxvi, 199 p., maps; 20cm

  After seeing Mr. Grayson off, I called Caleb and left a message.

  I was at the front desk when he returned my call. “What were you thinking?” I screamed. I seldom lost my temper, but he’d gone too far.

  “You can be mad, Kira, but I’m not going to apologize. I was worried about you. The police in Atlanta have pictures from the security cameras of some guy skulking around your condo. I wasn’t about to take any risks.”

  I blew out a breath. “How did you even know someone was here?”

  “I’ve got Daryl out at the hangar calling me whenever visitors fly in, and the sheriff is supposed to be keeping an eye on the roads. When I couldn’t get in touch with the sheriff, I called Sam.”

  I growled. “Caleb, common sense says some guy flying in on a private jet is not coming to kill me. You made me look like an idiot in front of a man who flew here to hire me.”

  “I had no way of knowing that since I’m on the other side of the world,” Caleb bit out the words. “Damn. I am sorry for that. I don’t want to fight with you. I’m tired and things aren’t going well here. And I feel like I should be there protecting you.”

  I suddenly noticed several live and dead patrons trying to act like they weren’t listening. I’d been so mad, I hadn’t realized they were there. I gave them my best death stare and they looked down at their various books.

  I made my way back to the break room and heated water for a cup of tea. “Maybe next time you could call me first? We’ll have some kind of code word and if there’s a bad guy here I’ll say it.”

  “Hmph,” Caleb grunted.

  “How about, ‘Sir, I’m sorry, we don’t carry the Batman comics’?” I had no idea where that came from, but it made him laugh.

  “I’m still not going to apologize for loving you and wanting to take care of you,” he grumbled. “And I wish you’d keep your cell phone closer. If I’d been able to talk to you, none of this ever would have happened.”

  I smiled. “Caleb I can’t be accountable to you twenty-four hours a day. Just think before you decide to charge in on your white horse to save the damsel in distress, or ask your friends to charge in. Now when in the hell are you going to be home? It’s been almost two days, and even though I’m furious with you, I can’t stand it much longer.”

  “I’m on my way. I leave in about an hour, and it’s a seventeen-hour flight back to Dallas.”

  This time I was the one who grumbled. “Whatever. Bed’s cold. Hurry home.”

  He laughed. “I’ll be home to keep you warm soon. I love you.”

  We hung up and I carried my tea back to the front. I heard whispers as I rounded the shelves, and then a hush. The Sweet gossips, dead and alive, would have fun with this one.

  Later in the afternoon I had another surprise visitor.

  Bronwyn was back in town. She came to return the books she’d borrowed and to check out a few more. I invited her to an impromptu girls’ night and called Margie to see if she could come too.

  They both arrived at seven and I introduced them to each other. We’d decided on a Mexican theme. I’d borrowed one of the cookbooks from the library and had made my first batch of chicken enchiladas. Margie brought the rice and beans and Bronwyn provided the margaritas and desserts.

  I showed them to the back and up the stairs.

  “What is this place?” Margie asked as we climbed the steps. At the top of the landing she said, “Oh.”

  “Hey, who would have known?” Bronwyn chimed in. “This is so cool.”

  It made me happy that they liked it.

  “How did you get all this furniture up those stairs?” Bronwyn said as she deposited the margarita mix on the counter.

  “I have no idea.” I shrugged. “None of it’s mine. It belonged to Mrs. Canard.”

  Bronwyn nodded. “Huh. She had really great taste. It’s comfortable but kind of chic in a way.”

  “Yes it is.” Margie pulled a Crock-Pot out of the box she was carrying and plugged it into one of the outlets on the counter.

  I’d eaten most of my meals at the small table in the kitchen area, but we set everything up in the formal dining room for tonight.

  By the time we had the food on the table, it was like we were old friends. Well, Margie and I had known each other forever, but Bronwyn fit right in.

  “So Margie, who was that guy I saw you with at Lulu’s?” I asked. We’d had two margaritas, and the giggles had already begun.

  “Nosy butt.” Margie bit her lip. “His name’s Billy. He’s a rancher and one hot kisser.” She laughed. “I met him at the nursing home when he came to visit one of his old ranch hands. He’s kind of nice, and not so pushy like some
of the other guys in town.”

  I had a lot of respect for Margie. She hadn’t had the easiest childhood, but she’d put herself through nursing school and carved out a life in Sweet.

  “But enough about me.” Margie leaned forward. “You and Caleb are the talk of the town. And when a man gives a woman a bracelet like that”—she pointed to the Tiffany hearts—“things are downright serious.”

  I couldn’t keep from smiling. “I’m taking it one day at a time.”

  Bronwyn laughed. “You’re full of crap. I can see it in your eyes. You are just as sappy over him as he is over you. I think it’s kind of cool.”

  I took a bite of my enchilada so I didn’t have to say anything.

  “Come on, Kira. Tell us what’s really going on,” Margie urged.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do as far as a job is concerned. I’ve had a couple of really great offers. One is for my dream job in New York. Caleb lives in Dallas, and I don’t know how good I’d be at a long-distance relationship.

  “And then there’s the library. I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “What do you mean?” Bronwyn asked.

  I told them everything about the will and what had been going on, minus the dead people.

  Bronwyn blew out a low whistle. “That’s rough. And you haven’t found any loopholes?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sure Mr. Pierce came up with that will, and he’s a crafty old coot. I can’t find a single word out of place. It’s annoying as hell.”

  “Man, I can’t imagine this town without the library.” Margie sipped her drink. “That’s kind of sucky. I mean, Kira, you have to do what’s best for you. Not everyone gets a chance at a dream job, but it’s sad to think about this place being sold off at an auction.”

  The very idea made me sick to my stomach.

  Bronwyn put her paper napkin on the table. “Well, one thing you don’t have to worry about is Caleb. He wants to move here, but I have a feeling he’s going to follow you wherever you end up. He’s like a little puppy that has found the perfect master. I don’t know what you did to the guy, but he’s well and thoroughly leashed.”

  I laughed. “Don’t tell him, but that goes both ways. I can’t imagine my life without him. Heck, it’s hard for me to remember what things were like before I met him. But it’s all happened so fast.” I looked at Margie. “A dear friend told me to take it one day at a time, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  Bronwyn rolled her eyes. “I don’t get what you see in him, but you could do worse. I certainly have. You guys ready for dessert?”

  After serving up huge chunks of apple pie from Lulu’s, we talked until almost midnight. I’d just let them out the front door into the cold December wind when I realized it was just as chilly inside.

  I turned to find a mob staring back at me. Terry was once again at the lead of the pack. The dogs had materialized beside me, as if they guarded against the dead. At least the pooches were on my side.

  A rose brooch had been added to Terry’s green dress, and I wondered if the people on the other side had the option of changing clothes or if they could only add accessories.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Are you going to leave us?” His voice sounded pained.

  I shrugged. “I can’t stay here forever. I’m a lawyer, not a librarian.”

  “But if you leave, they’ll sell the place and then what will we do?” He tapped his long fingernails against the back of a chair.

  “Certainly there are other libraries you can go to.” I refused to let them make me feel guilty. Though they were doing a pretty good job.

  “No, we can’t. You still haven’t read the book.” Terry pointed a finger at me. “You can’t possibly understand the magnitude of what will happen if this place goes to auction.”

  Frustrated, I pulled a hand through my hair. “I can’t find this imaginary book with all the answers that you’ve been talking about. I’ve looked through shelves, stacks, boxes, everywhere I could think. I haven’t found any book.”

  He turned to the group. “Fan out people. You know what you are looking for, and we aren’t leaving until we find it.”

  “What are you doing?” I crossed my arms.

  The spirits spread out all over the library and more arrived. They were upstairs and down, in the break room and even under the counters.

  “We’re going to find that book. It’s time you discovered who you really are, Kira Smythe.” Terry gave me a stern look.

  I didn’t roll my eyes, but I wanted to. I sat down at the computer and pretended to be busy while they looked. I’d searched the place over, and I knew they wouldn’t find anything.

  After a half hour, a guy around forty or so whispered something to Terry.

  He cut his eyes, framed with the largest pair of fake lashes I’d ever seen, at me.

  I threw up my hands. “What?”

  “Jack here is a detective—or was—for the Chicago Police Department. He says you need to search your apartment upstairs.”

  “I thought I told you guys to stay out of my loft.”

  Terry frowned. “You did. That’s why he said you need to do the searching. We’ve looked everywhere, and that’s the only logical place left. Jack says he’d be willing to bet that it’s right in front of your face.”

  Jack’s a jerk.

  Terry’s eyebrow lifted as if he knew what I thought. Everyone stopped their search and turned to look at me.

  I growled. “Fine, whatever. I’ll go look upstairs. But no one comes up with me.” I thought about crawling into the bed and pulling a pillow over my head; there was nothing they could do about it. Unfortunately, they’d probably be waiting downstairs when I woke up, so I decided to at least make the effort.

  Though I’d looked through it a half dozen times, I searched the bookshelf in the living area first. There was a mixture of books from Mrs. Canard, and some that I’d brought up.

  I put my finger on each spine, reading it carefully. When I ran into Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, I picked it up. When I was a kid I read it every year around this time. The book fell out of my hands and hit the floor with a thud.

  The jacket came off and the hard cover read, Library Care for the Living and the Dead.

  Oh.

  Sitting down on the floor, I picked it up and put it in my lap. It was warm to the touch. I flipped open the first page, and gasped.

  * * *

  Things I Don’t Like About Dead People

  They’re cold

  They’re nosy

  They always wear the same thing (I know it’s petty, but it bugs me.)

  When they want something, they won’t leave you alone until they get it

  They freak me out

  * * *

  Chapter 28

  It’s quite a three-pipe problem.

  THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE

  By Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859–1930

  Call #: F-DOY

  Description: 101 p.: ill, 21cm

  THIS BOOK BELONGS TO KIRA SMYTHE

  A headache throbbed at my temples and my throat felt dry.

  You have been selected for an important position as a Seer for the Librarian of Knowledge. As you ascend to each level, your powers and abilities will grow. At the end of your tenure, you’ll have full use of the Akashic Records and will use this Book of Life’s power to help those around you.

  In the beginning it is your job to…

  Freaking out doesn’t begin to describe what happened to me. Powers? Abilities?

  I’m a lawyer. I can write a heck of a contract and oversee mergers, but I have no powers.

  Your resources are as immense as the universe here and beyond. You have the ability to find the answer to any question, to solve every dilemma. It is a certain kind of magic that gives complete and total access to universal answers.

  At Stage One of your powers you will see the living and the dead more clearly by the month’s end. They wi
ll come to you with a variety of questions, and at first you may have feelings of anxiety. You may also experience nausea, headaches, and occasional blackouts while trying to find the answers. These symptoms will disappear as your power grows.

  The blackouts come from your attempts to search for information in the Akashic Records beyond your current capabilities.

  You are one of twelve librarians on earth with your abilities. Each is set in a specific location near a portal…

  I shut the book. It was too much. The Akashic Records were like some metaphysical source of the ultimate cosmic library. I’d read about it years ago in an Edgar Cayce book.

  This thing was telling me that I would have access to pure knowledge. It wasn’t possible.

  “Yoo hoo!” Terry’s voice carried up the stairwell. “Did you find the book?”

  I didn’t bother to move. “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “That’s wonderful. Call for me if you have questions. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His chipper voice grated along my spine.

  Not if I can help it.

  There was a simple solution to this insanity. All I had to do was leave. I could hop on a plane and go back to Atlanta or accept Mr. Grayson’s offer for the New York job. I could go tonight and I’d never have to step foot in this weird place again.

  I was angry. How could Mrs. Canard have done this to me? How could she think I would want to be party to this? Why me?

  The book was still warm and I shoved it into the bookcase. It fell out again and I scooted away from it.

  I needed to leave, but I was so tired. I looked at my watch and it was almost one. I’d been up since six. I couldn’t stay here. I had to get out.

  I grabbed my purse and keys, and ten minutes later I was at my parents’. I used the electronic key code to let myself in, and made my way to the room they’d given me a few weeks ago.