One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

you want to pack up any of your equipment?”
     
    “I don’t think much of it’ll fit in the Bentley,” he said wryly.
     
    “Well, not the big stuff,” I said, glancing at an industrial-sized sink in the corner. “But you could take some screens and tools with you.”
     
    “I was planning to. I hate having nothing to do.”
     
    “And maybe you’d like to pack up some of your goat cheese to take along,” I said, trying to be subtle.
     
    He laughed again as he gathered his tools. “I made some a few days ago with dried cherries. Tastes incredible on sweet oat crackers.”
     
    “If you insist.”
     
    On the long, winding drive back home, the four of us huddled in the Bentley and argued and brainstormed. Gabriel and I sat in the back and let Max, the tallest, brawniest of the guys, sit in the front, since he never would have been able to squeeze into the back.
    We debated the best way to keep Max safe without alerting the entire world to the fact that he was alive and well and hiding in Dharma. His enemies were already responsible for one death. We didn’t want to add to the body count.
     
    “I hate this,” Max blurted. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years and now, all of a sudden, I’m sitting in a Bentley, for God’s sake, letting you guys take over. It’s not easy.”
     
    “I imagine not,” Derek said. “But you’ll get used to it.”
     
    Max, Gabriel, and Derek all argued about the situation, with me throwing in a comment now and again. I knew Max was more than a little demoralized by the situation, but we all told him to let that go.
     
    I was concerned that since his enemies had already tracked him to Marin County, they would easily follow us back to Dharma. But Derek and Gabriel had run another circumference check of Max’s property an hourbefore we left. They were fairly certain no one had followed us from Max’s farm, but the Bentley was so conspicuous. Anyone could’ve seen us driving down the main street of Point Reyes Station on our way back to Sonoma County.
     
    I once again brought up the unpromising possibility that the shooter had been simply a hunter with bad aim. But even I knew I was grasping at straws.
     
    We changed topics, hashing out the big question still on all our minds: Why now? What had happened recently to cause Angelica—for want of a better suspect—to put the book on the market and do it in such a way that it would attract my attention and ultimately lure Max out into the open?
     
    Again, we discussed the possibility that Solomon was dead. Gabriel made quick work of quashing that prospect by Googling him on his smart phone and searching for him on Facebook. Solomon had posted an updated class schedule on his Facebook page that very morning.
     
    So yes, Solomon was alive.
     
    Maybe it was Angelica who was dead. I was convinced that the only way this scenario worked was if, on her deathbed, she had confessed to Solomon that Max was still alive.
     
    “Stranger things have happened,” Gabriel murmured, and checked her out online. He also found her Facebook page and reported that she was still teaching at the Art Institute.
     
    Since Gabriel and I were sitting together, he passed me his phone. As much as I hated staring at Angie’s Facebook page with all the vanity photographs she’d posted of herself, I had to give thanks for social media and search engines. They made it so much easier for all of us to snoop around in other people’s lives.
     
    And speaking of snooping, I made a mental note to look up Emily’s name on Facebook later, when Max wasn’t around.
     
    “Where are you planning to hide me?” Max asked, his tone self-mocking.
     
    I leaned forward. “We’re driving straight to my parents’ house.”
     
    He whipped around. “I’m not putting your parents in danger. Any of those people driving behind us could be following us with guns.”
     
    He was right, darn it. I could see Derek’s eyes in the rearview mirror, narrowing in thought at the likelihood of our being tailed. If he was alone in the car, he would probably be able to evade anyone following him by turning the car into a racing machine and outrunning them. But with a car full of people, he didn’t have that option now.
     
    “Would you be open to staying at one of my brothers’ houses for a few days?” I asked.
     
    Max turned in his seat and I could see his mouth twisting as he pondered the idea. “Yeah, I guess so. Your brothers can both defend