by Mac Flynn
My boss sighed and waved at the door. "Well, that's enough. There's books to be sorted and shelved."
I nodded and hurried out of there before she asked any more uncomfortable questions. There was a strange, twisted irony to all these goings-on; I got my wish. My boring life now had plenty of mystery and lies, and my book lay at the center of it all. Now I just had to figure out how to get out from this mess without losing my book to the library or its unknown owner. Yay me.
Chapter 6
I quickly walked out to the front desk area and saw Marvin seated on the stool with a book in hand. It was an ancient thing that he must have grabbed from the Forbidden section on the fifth floor. As assistant librarians one of the perks we had was being able to go up there and grab a book, but we still couldn't leave the library with it.
I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Marvin jumped a foot in the air, and came down turned toward me with a scowl on his face. He was lucky he didn't spill the mug of coffee that sat by his side. "Do you mind not doing that to me?"
I cracked a smile. Sweet, unintentional revenge for yesterday's scare. "Want me to take your place?" I asked him.
At my offer his mood improved dramatically and he hopped off the Stool of Boredom. I took his place and expected him to leave me in peace with coffee mug in hand, but no such luck. "Did Miss Hamish tell you about the stolen book from the Forbidden room?" he wondered.
"Yep," I replied.
"Did she also tell you what it may have been about?" he added. That got my attention, and I turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked him.
"Just what I say. We may not know the title of the book, but it was set between books on such interesting subjects as the Apocrypha and black magic," he told me.
The book's strange subject intrigued me. I'd had some pretty recent experience in some sort of wonderful black magic with that mystery book. "So someone stole it for some light reading on how to be evil?" I quipped. Marvin's face drooped, and I held up my hands in front of me. "Just joking. Continue on."
"As I was going to say, the book must not have been missing very long. The janitor dusts there every Friday night when he gets keys from Hamish, and she has the only set," he reminded me.
"So somehow somebody snuck into the room with a key they couldn't possibly have, took a book that may cause the end of the world, and left their calling card in that piece of paper I found in the drop box?" I guessed.
Marvin furrowed his brow and finally nodded. "Maybe not exactly the end of the world, but that is the right order of events."
"So how exactly did they get inside?" I persisted.
Marvin rolled his eyes and dramatically threw up his arms. "Don't you know anything?"
Now I rolled my eyes and pointed at his shirt. "I know that you spilled some coffee down your shirt." His dramatic waving had left the spots.
He glanced down, frowned, and hurriedly grabbed a box of tissues. Even busying himself with cleaning the spots off, he still didn't stop talking. "Another way for someone to gain access to the room would be for them to make a mold of the lock, and then take that mold to a local locksmith."
"That's a lot of trouble for just one book. Were any others taken?" I asked him.
Marvin shook his head. "Not that we saw, and Miss Hamish instructed me to make a thorough inventory of the books to make sure the others were there."
"Shouldn't you be doing that?" I pointed out.
"He should," a voice spoke up, and we turned around to see Hamish walking toward us. "And you should be watching the computers, Leslie," she scolded me.
Marvin scurried off to inventory the Forbidden collection, and Hamish, cart in hand, went to shelve some books. That left me at the front desk with nothing to do but think about the conversation I'd just had with Marvin. My own words about the order of events that our thief took to get their book and leave us a clue to their crime. It reminded me of my own daring theft, but at least in my stealing I'd been clean enough not to leave anything but a motive.
My thoughts pondered what information the book had held. Most of the works up there were non-fiction, and the contents between their pages were drier than the dust on them. Their only value was their age, and our mysterious thief had, by all accounts, only taken one book with an unknown value because of its unknown name. That brought me to the mystery of the deleted name from the database. Our database was secure, but the thief must have hacked in and deleted the entry, and all without setting off any system alarm bells. Sneaky person, this thief. They certainly knew the ins and outs of our system, from getting into the room to making the book vanish not only physically but electronically.
There was a nagging at the back of my mind that I couldn't brush aside, and that was that the appearance of my book, the slip of paper, and the disappearance of the other book were probably more than just a coincidence. Most mysterious, and mentally exhausting. School was bad enough without overloading my brain with problems I couldn't solve.
That's when I saw them, and thoughts went out the window. They were replaced with emotions, and the strongest ones were envy and angst. Them were Tyler and Ashley, hand-in-hand and no doubt out for another reclusive corner to exchange 'notes.' I straightened and smiled at them as they passed, but they didn't even look in my direction. My parents should have named me Casper because I was a ghost to the people who mattered to me the most.
My angst-filled thoughts drifted back to that brief happiness last night when I'd found myself falling for a book. Just thinking about that warm, wonderful glow in my arms, enveloping me in a heat so strong it was enough to soak my underwear. I bit my lip and grappled for control of my own body as emotions of lust and desire nearly overpowered me. The worst part was that I wanted to feel those emotions, but now was not the time or the place. I was at work and had a hell of a lot more hours left until I could flee to my apartment and let myself fall into the warm arms of sweet memories.
There was one sweet memory, or should I say dream, that I couldn't so easily sweep aside. That was the one from last night where the book had resurrected itself and taken me in ways so delicious I squirmed on my seat. My heart beat quick and strong, and the temptation to reach into my jeans strained my willpower. I was saved from temptation, or torn from it as a willing victim, by Hamish. She came out of the back offices and sat beside me.
"So how's everything going?" she asked me.
"Fine," I managed to mumble. My voice had a husky tone that I wanted to hide.
Hamish leaned forward and scrutinized my red face. "Is everything all right? Are you not feeling well again?"
I slipped a smile onto my lips and shrugged. "Oh, um, just thinking about that stolen book and getting angry about it getting stolen," I told her.
She didn't look like she believed me, but that was okay. I didn't believe me, either. "All right, but the minute you don't feel well you go home."
"Sure thing."
"Good. I'm going to go shelve some books. Page me if you need me, and tell me when Marvin comes back from the Collection."
"I will," I promised.
It wasn't until nearly nine that Marvin stumbled out of the elevator and over to the front desk. He had bleary eyes and smudges of dust on his fingers and clothes. He sat down on the stool next to me, which he rarely did, and slumped over the desk, which he never did. "That bad?" I asked him.
He raised his head and showed off a long face. "You never really know a room full of books until you are forced to go over each book binding by binding."
"They all have titles on the binding?" I wondered.
"No, and it was in those many instances I was forced to pull them out and look inside." He held out his smudged hands. "We must tell the janitor to do a better job at dusting that space."
"Did you at least find out anything about the missing book, if there is one missing?" I persisted.
He glumly shook his head. "Not a single word about its title, contents, or even its e
xistence. I am beginning to think we're perhaps dealing with a book that has supernatural properties." My mind immediately thought of my book's strange glow and the color drained from my face. Marvin glanced at me and frowned. "Are you feeling all right?"
"Me? Oh, yeah, I was just thinking-um, that I forgot to tell Hamish you were back. She wanted to be buzzed when you got here." I fumbled for my pager and beeped her number. "There, called."
Marvin looked at me with doubt in his eyes. "Have you had a mental evaluation recently?"
I rolled my eyes, though inwardly I wondered if that wasn't such a bad idea. "I'm just fine, now tell Hamish what you told me." I nodded my head to the right, and he looked to see Hamish step out of the elevator with her cart.
"What news, young people?" she teased.
"Not much, Miss Hamish," Marvin replied. "I couldn't find any clues to the missing book, or even if is one missing."
Hamish sighed, but looked hopeful. "Well, we still have the cards in the basement. That is, if we can find them," she reminded us.
Marvin cringed. "Would that be a chore for another night?" he pleaded. I couldn't entirely blame him. The basement was a creepy, and very dusty, place full of dead computer screens and empty bookcases.
Our boss chuckled and nodded. "All right, but I expect that to be taken care of tomorrow," she replied.
His shoulders slumped, but he glumly nodded his head. "Sure thing, Miss Hamish," he agreed.
Chapter 7
The rest of my shift was uneventful until after Marvin's shift ended. He left at nine to study to his heart's content. The library was usually a quiet place, but after nine the building was a tomb. Everyone was gone to parties, leaving the library workers to toil away at setting right the books, couches, tables, chairs and computers. Hamish and I were the only night workers left to do those chores, so I was assigned the job of shelving the books while she kept the front desk.
I rolled out my cart with books destined for the third story, took the elevator and stepped out onto the upper floor. The wheels squeaked as I walked along the balcony space toward the section I needed to work at. The rows between the bookshelves were devoid of life except what could be found between the pages of the books.
I stopped dead in my tracks and stiffened. Something was wrong. While I sometimes felt alone in this jungle of sliced and diced trees, this was a very different sensation. I felt like eyes were on me watching my every step, my every turn. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and I glanced over my shoulder. There was nothing behind me. I closed my eyes and took a breath. "Easy there, Leslie. Just your imagination." That wild imagination that kept me dreaming about being seduced by golden tendrils until I screamed out in satisfaction. I shuddered as the memories of those dreams sent a wave of warm heat over me. Damn me and my fruitful imagination!
I steadied myself and continued on with my work. Those books weren't going to shelve themselves unless I somehow convinced those imaginary tendrils to help me. I pushed my cart onward to the call of duty, but the feeling of being watched wouldn't be shrugged off. I decided to stop again, but this time more quickly than before. My quick reflexes were rewarded with a shadow out of the corner of my eye. It dodged behind a nearby bookcase and moved deeper into the jungle of shelves.
I don't know who the hell it was, but I wasn't going to have them scaring the daylights out of me. I abandoned my duty and my cart, and raced after the thing. My fast, heavy footsteps alerted the person to my coming, and the shadow scurried through the bookshelves toward the stairs. I burst from the shelves in time to see a head disappear down the steps, and I rushed to the balcony railing. One quick visual sweep of the ground floor and I spotted my target. It was a tall person in a heavy coat with black hair and a quick step. They headed past the front desk to the doors.
"Hey, you!" I called out. I received a disapproving look from Hamish, but I wasn't going to let my prey get away. The person paused and almost looked back, but then hurried forward.
That pause gave me enough time to race down the stairs and hit the ground floor at the same time they went out the front doors. I hurried past a confused Miss Hamish and out into the cool night air. All the movies I'd ever watched told me the person would be gone, but instead I found them standing behind a nearby light pole. The neck of the lamp obscured their face from the light, and I cautiously stepped over to them. "Why were you watching me?" I demanded to know.
I heard a chuckle, and the figure stepped into the light. It was the man who'd earlier saved me from the bullies. He had a wide grin on his face and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "We seem to be meeting a lot lately," he teased.
My mouth dropped open at his arrogance and I waved my hand back at the library doors. "What the hell was that?"
He raised an eyebrow without slipping an inch of that smile. "What was what?" he asked me.
"That show in there! You freaking me out like you're the Phantom of the Library Bookshelves!" I yelled at him.
The man winced and nodded toward the doors. "A little quieter or she'll hear you."
I frowned and glanced at the doors. Hamish stood inside the library with an expression that showed both worry and vexation. I was giving him an earful now, but I was going to get my own earful later. "Oh, right," I sheepishly replied. I turned back to him and lowered my voice. "What were you doing sneaking around the library?" I quietly questioned him.
"Grabbing a late-night read," he replied. His mischievous tone told me he wasn't telling the full truth, or maybe even one-quarter of the truth.
I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. "Uh-huh, so what were you reading? How to disappear in three easy steps down a staircase?"
"Not a bad idea, but I was reading about the woman's body language," he replied. He looked me over and I blushed. It felt like he'd stripped me bare with x-ray vision. "It's a very fascinating subject for men." This man was a very different type of man than the one I'd met earlier in the day. He was like an animal who shed his skin when night fell.
"But not teachers. They have to behave themselves," I reminded him.
His smiled disappeared, and he sighed and turned away. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Our code does force us to retain a platonic relationship with our students." His eyes flickered over to me and a smile flickered on his lips. "I don't believe I've ever had you in any of my classes. What are you studying?"
"A liar, and a bad one," I quipped.
He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I deserved that, but only partially. You see, I was looking for a book, a particular book, but I didn't find it. Perhaps I'll have better luck later."
Here was someone I could understand. A patron in need of help. "What was the book about? I might be able to find it in the computer," I offered.
The man shook his head. "No, that's fine. I'm sure I've bothered you enough tonight, especially with how mad Hamish looks right now. If it's any consolation you can tell her I was sneaking around, and give her this number to call if she doesn't believe me." He handed me a card. There was a phone number, a name, and even an address. It read "Jonathon Veer."
"And you're a teacher, right?" I asked Mr. Veer.
"Yes, in ancient historical studies, but I don't like dry jokes," he teased.
I pocketed the card and looked him over. "I didn't get much of a chance to thank you this morning. In a hurry and all."
He waved off my thanks. "I'm sure another knight in tweed armor would have saved you," he insisted.
"There aren't any knights left. The dragons ate them all," I quipped.
Veer chuckled. "Well, I managed to escape my last dragon and hope I can do another favor for you."
I glanced over my shoulder at Hamish. As much as I respected her, she looked really mad right then. "I think you fended a dragon off with my dragon by giving me your card," I told him.
"Good. Then I can rest easy. Goodnight." He bowed his head and hurried off into the night.
I didn't stand there alone for long because Hamish came out and strode toward me. "What i
n the world was that?" she scolded.
I turned to her and shrugged. "I thought he might have been stealing something, but it was just a teacher acting weird. He left this card." I held out the card, and Hamish took it.
She perused the contents and frowned. "You ran after a teacher?" she asked me.
"I didn't know he was a teacher. All I saw was a shadow in the bookshelves, and since one book's already gone missing I thought the thief was back for more."
"And what was he doing among the bookshelves?" Hamish wondered.
"He said he was grabbing a late-night read," I told her. She didn't believe it any more than I did.
Hamish scoffed. "I'm sure, but I suppose we'll take him at his word. He is a teacher."
Now it was my turn to scoff. "That never stopped some people from being thieves," I muttered.
She heard me and raised an eyebrow. "Be that as it may, we'll let the matter drop. Mr. Veer was invaluable in cataloging the books in the fifth floor collection, and I don't want to be harassing him for merely wandering through the library. And Leslie, the next time you see a suspicious figure, page me and we'll find them together," she commanded.
"But you were at the desk and there's no one-"
"Just page me," she interrupted. There was a finality in her voice that told me more arguing would only make things worse.
"Fine, I'll page you," I grumbled.
"Good." She handed back the card and glanced at her watch. "Now let's clean up and close up shop. It's a little early, but after that scare we could both do with going to bed early."
Chapter 8
A quarter hour later found me driving home in the dark. I was on the main thoroughfare through the city. The campus lay on my left, and businesses catering to the campus lay on my right. The streets and roads were deserted of pedestrians and other cars, but the nightlife was alive in the off streets as music blared from open windows and people yelled profanities at each other. Sirens were a common noise and I saw more than one student stagger back to their dorm rooms. And all this before ten o'clock.
My mind was filled with the night's happenings, especially the late-night visitor and my talk with Marvin about the room on the fifth floor. I had this strange feeling seeing Veer again wasn't a coincidence, but there really wasn't anything to connect the two. Well, except for his love of ancient history and that book being old.
