One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

electrocuted at the same time, I knew it was all true. I swear, Brooklyn, by then I was considering hiring a hit man to kill Solomon.”
     
    “I don’t blame you,” I said darkly.
     
    “The only thing that made sense was to fake my own death. So I took Robson into my confidence and he helped me clean up my affairs, write up a will, and arrange my own death.”
     
    “Did my father help you, too?” I asked a little too sharply.
     
    Max frowned, then admitted, “Yes, and I was damn grateful. After I told Robson the whole story, he called your father first thing. He’s the one who met me in BigSur and helped rig my car to drive off the cliff. Then he drove me up to Oregon and we camped out in the Columbia Gorge for a few weeks until Robson completed the purchase of this house.”
     
    It was my turn to frown. “But I remember Dad attending your memorial service.”
     
    Grinning, Max said, “Your father would make a great spy. He drove back and forth from the campsite to Dharma at least three or four times, just to keep anyone from suspecting anything. And he and Robson spread the word around Dharma and Sonoma that my brakes had malfunctioned. I guess my paranoia was contagious, because they were both determined to cover my tracks completely.”
     
    “And so they did,” I muttered. Guru Bob had found him a safe place to live and Max became Jack, a goat farmer in Point Reyes. And my father had known all along. How did I feel about that?
     
    “Did Dad ever come visit you here?” I asked. “Had you thought about returning to real life at some point?”
     
    Again, Max paused and frowned, uncomfortable with the questions.
     
    That was when I lost it. Jumping up from the table, I said, “Max, were you going to live in hiding forever? Did you guys have an endgame strategy? What the hell were you going to do here for the next twenty years? Was anyone monitoring Solomon and Angelica for you? What about Emily?”
     
    Max threw his napkin down and glared at me. “I did this for Emily! For her parents. For those little kids in her class, damn it! God, how much more damage was I willing to inflict on them? I needed to get out of their lives before anything else happened. I told you I was desperate, Brooklyn. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight, but I did what I thought was right at the time.”
     
    He pushed away from the table, grabbed his empty bowl and utensils, and put them in the sink.
     
    “Okay, I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing him from behind in a hug. “I just…God, I mourned you. I missed you. I’msick about what they did to you. I wish you would have said something. We have solidarity in Dharma. We could have protected you. We could have helped.”
     
    He turned and returned my hug. “Robson helped. Your father helped. We talked about finding the right time for me to return. We came up with all sorts of excuses to explain why I’d been gone. I decided I would claim amnesia from the dive off the cliff. Your father was the one monit     
    “My father is quite the little spymaster,” I muttered, realizing now that the three of them had to have been in contact over the past three years.
     
    Derek stood and took his bowl to the sink. “Angelica must have suspected all this time that you weren’t really dead, since she’s the one who suggested you disappear.”
     
    “Yeah, she is,” Max said warily as he carried the two pasta pots to the sink counter.
     
    Derek turned. “But if she is indeed the one behind all this, why did she never do anything about it until recently? Why wait until now?”
     
    “I have no idea.”
     
    I gathered up the napkins. “Do you think she stole the book from Emily?”
     
    “It had to be her,” Max said with certainty. He took the napkins from me, opened a side door to reveal a small laundry room, and tossed them into a basket on top of the washer. “She was so jealous of Emily. Every time Angie called, she’d make some snide remark or take a dig at Emily.” He closed the laundry room door. “Look, I hope you all know I’m not being boastful when I talk about her jealousy and possessiveness. It was sick and twisted, nothing to be proud of.”
     
    “We know that, Max.” I patted his shoulder, then began to clear the rest of the pasta bowls and the bread basket off the table. I stacked them in front of Derek, who had appointed himself chief