One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

other room.”
     
    “Let’s get him untied first.”
     
    “No. Talk first, please.” I walked out, down the hall, and into the front room.
     
    He followed me and said quietly, “Brooklyn, that man needs to be released.”
     
    “That man could be a monster,” I whispered so I wouldn’t be overheard. By whom? I had no idea, but I wasn’t taking chances. “This could be a trap.”
     
    “Yes, it could be.” He glanced around and I could tell he’d already considered that possibility. “But we still can’t leave him here.”
     
    I folded my arms tightly across my chest, not yet willing to agree. “Both he and Angelica have calculated every move from the very beginning.”
     
    “That’s true, but he’s right where we want him now.”He took hold of my arms. “We’ll take every precaution. I’ll loosen his wrists from the bedposts, then bind his hands behind his back to transport him down the mountain.”
     
    “Okay.” Maybe I was making too much of Solomon’s power, but I dreaded going back into that bedroom. I hated being in the same vicinity as the man. But more than that, I trusted Derek to take care of Solomon.
     
    “Would you rather wait in the car?” Derek asked, squeezing my shoulder with concern.
     
    “God, no. Well, maybe.” But the thought of traipsing back through the dark woods alone wasn’t appealing. And I knew that waiting by myself in the car would give me the creeps. “No. Let’s get this over with.”
     
    We went back into the bedroom. I grabbed the end of the rope holding Solomon’s right foot to the lower post. The knots were intricate and it was slow going getting them loosened. Somebody knew their Boy Scout knots, for sure.
     
    I glanced up, met Solomon’s cold gaze, and quickly looked away. I stared at the taut rope and got angry. How dared he intimidate me when he was laid out in this ridiculous position? I looked back at him, refusing to show alarm or acknowledge the shivers I got from merely looking at him.
     
    Solomon made muffled sounds through the duct tape and I figured he wanted us to remove it so he could speak. But I didn’t want to hear his voice.
     
    “The duct tape stays,” I said gruffly, trying to ignore his muted grumbling. We still hadn’t found Emily, and I wanted to blame Minka and Solomon for leading us off track. First, stupid Minka had stuck her big nose where it didn’t belong, and now we had to deal with rescuing Solomon, of all people. It wasn’t nice of me and I wasn’t proud of myself, but there it was.
     
    I concentrated on undoing the intricate set of knots trapping the man’s ankles to the bedpost and wondered if this night would ever end.
     
    Solomon continued to moan through the duct tapeand I realized it was cruel to leave it on. What if he couldn’t breathe?
     
    “Fine,” I said reluctantly. When Derek glanced up, I asked, “Will you take the duct tape off?”
     
    I didn’t want to get too close to the man on the bed. And I didn’t want to hear what he had to say—unless, of course, he knew where Emily was. But since he was hog-tied, I was guessing he wouldn’t have any worthwhile information. This whole scene was all too grisly and weird.
     
    Derek leaned over and grabbed hold of the tape, then warned Solomon, “This is going to hurt.”
     
    Solomon nodded vigorously and Derek ripped it off.
     
    Solomon screamed liked a banshee, although, to tell the truth, I’d never heard a banshee scream.
     
    “Thank God you came for me,” he cried. “Oh, thank God. It was a nightmare. I couldn’t get away. I thought I was going to die. I—” He took a breath and held it. Silence.
     
    Neither of us bothered to clue him in that we hadn’t come here for his sake.
     
    I was thankful for the silence. Solomon in this grateful mood was jarring to me. I continued working with the rope. Someone had dampened it before tying, so it was even more difficult to get a grip on it. It was slow work and I was getting more and more anxious to leave before whoever tied up Solomon decided to return.
     
    Solomon watched us both work to free him. I looked up and noticed he was frowning at me.
     
    “What?” I said.
     
    “I know you.”
     
    I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”
     
    “Yes, I do.” He peered at me; then one side of his mouth curved up. “I never forget a pretty face.”
     
    I tried to mask my shock but I failed. “Seriously? You’re flirting with me? While you’re tied up like a turkey