One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

too.
So start talking,
I told myself.
     
    “So you killed Angelica,” I said.
     
    “OMG, Brooklyn,” she said, smiling as she shook her head at me. “We already talked about that. Yes, I did it. I admit it. Out of duty to my deacon and my church.”
     
    “And because you’re in love with Solomon and wanted him for yourself.”
     
    She sighed, mildly irritated with me. “I do love Solomon but it was more than that. Angelica’s presence washarming our church. Anyway, you already know all this. Just take off your clothes and let’s get on with it.”
     
    I held up both hands to delay the inevitable. “I just need to know: did you kill Joe Taylor, the bookstore owner?”
     
    She frowned. “Who?”
     
    “Joseph Taylor, the bookseller on Clement Street.”
     
    “In San Francisco?”
     
    “Yes.”
     
    She tilted her head in confusion. “Why would I kill him? I didn’t even know him. It was probably Angelica.”
     
    Yeah, I figured it was Angelica, too. But how would Crystal know? “Why do you think Angelica—”
     
    “What day was this man killed?” she asked suddenly, as her frown deepened.
     
    I was taken aback by the question but went ahead and figured out the day. “It was two weeks ago last Friday.”
     
    She thought for another moment. “Yes. That’s right. After I realized that Angelica was meant to die, I followed her around for a few days, trying to learn her routines. On that Friday you’re talking about, I followed her all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge. She crossed over into the city. I turned around and drove home.”
     
    “Why didn’t you follow her into the city?”
     
    Her lip curled in distaste. “Everybody knows San Francisco has been embraced by Satan.”
     
    “Ah. Good point.”
     
    What sounded like a dog or a wolf howling in the distance made me flinch. Great. All this and wild animals, too.
     
    “Now, we’ve talked enough,” Crystal said, waving the gun at me. “I’m afraid the Great Ogun is growing impatient. You’ve got to strip.”
     
    “One more thing. Why did you send Angelica’s body to my house?”
     
    She smiled. “That was for Max. A gift and a warning.”
     
    I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
     
    “I can see you were shocked,” she said. “But she looked pretty, I thought. I didn’t want her to suffer, so Isuffocated her in her sleep. And I embalmed her myself, so she should’ve been well preserved.”
     
    “You…embalmed her.”
     
    She shrugged. “It’s a skill we all need to learn if we’re going to survive the coming wars.”
     
    “Right.”
     
    “I didn’t want you to be too grossed out, but I did need Max Adams to realize she was dead.”
     
    “Oh, he got the message. He saw her.”
     
    “Good. Angelica had been keeping tabs on Max Adams, and I had been keeping tabs on Angelica, so I was able to tell Solomon where Max was hiding every time you moved him.”
     
    Crystal had been watching us? She knew where we were each time? So her instincts had worked better than any GPS bugging device. I had completely underestimated the woman. Big mistake.
     
    “At first,” she continued, “Solomon was really surprised to hear Max was alive. Surprised and very, very hurt. He couldn’t get over it. It started affecting his work, and I knew I had to take care of this for him. Poor man.”
     
    I had a hard time believing Solomon was “hurt.” But Crystal had bought his act completely. So she had killed Angelica and sent her body in a box to my home through a delivery service. Oh yes, I had most certainly underestimated Crystal Byers.
     
    “What about that delivery guy?” I asked. “You killed him, too?”
     
    “Oh, I hated to do that, but he was a loose end,” she explained. “Melody helped me. I didn’t want to drive into the Pit of Satan all by myself.”
     
    I assumed the Pit of Satan was the city of San Francisco. “Your sister helped you kill that man?”
     
    She bit her lip. “I probably shouldn’t have involved her, but she insisted on helping.”
     
    I gaped at her. “Melody insisted?”
     
    “She distracted him while I came from behind and slipped the plastic bag over his head.” She smiled again. “We’re very close, Melody and me.”
     
    The sisters are going to be even closer,
I thought. Maybe they could share a jail cell. “You’re right. You really shouldn’t have dragged Melody into this.”
     
    “Please don’t judge me, Brooklyn,” she said. “Only Ogun can