One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

bedroom, there was one room that held Jackson’s weights and the other was used for a guest room. I checked that there were clean sheets on the bed, then called out Max’s name. After I showed him the room, he stowed his duffel bag against the wall, and we walked downstairs to find Derek and Gabriel talking logistics.
     
    “What’s up?” Max asked.
     
    “I’ll be sleeping here on the couch tonight,” Gabriel announced. “Just a precaution.”
     
    “You sure that’s necessary?” Max said.
     
    “Yes,” Derek said, closing the door to any arguments.
     
    “Fine,” Max conceded. “So, what’s the plan?”
     
    “You hunker down here for a few days,” Gabriel said. “Tomorrow morning, if it’s not raining, I’ll drive back to your farm. I want to find the exact spot where the shooter stood, see if he or she left anything there. He’s been carefulso far, but if he was in a hurry, he might’ve neglected to police the area and left a cartridge behind. There might be footprints. A gum wrapper. Who knows?”
     
    Max nodded. “Sounds good.”
     
    “And since there’s a slim chance that the bad guys will think you’re still living there, I’ll check to make sure your neighbors are safe.”
     
    “Thank you.” Max clenched his fists. “Damn it, I never even thought of that.”
     
    “It’s okay, Max,” I said. “You and I aren’t wired to think in those terms, but these guys are.”
     
    He gazed sideways at Derek and Gabriel. “Then I guess it’s a good thing they’re on our side.”
     
    “Yeah, it is,” I said, smiling.
     
    But Max was still tense. “I told Sam to be careful, but I’d better call him in the morning and make sure he understands. I don’t want his boys to go to my place alone.”
     
    “Good idea,” Gabriel said, keeping his tone casual.
     
    “I’m already tired of this,” Max admitted.
     
    “It’ll be over soon,” I assured him.
     
    “I hope to hell you’re right.” He paced a few feet, then turned. “I want to see Emily.”
     
    “Not a good idea,” Gabriel said. “Whoever’s behind this might be watching her, too.”
     
    “All the more reason to check that she’s safe.”
     
    I glanced at the men. “I left a phone message for her, but I haven’t heard back.”
     
    “She could already be in danger,” Max said.
     
    I pulled my cell phone out of my bag to double-check my messages, then groaned. “My battery’s dead. I can’t tell if she called or not.”
     
    “Don’t you have your charger with you?” Derek asked.
     
    “No, I didn’t pack it.” Stupid move on my part, but I’d figured we’d be back home by now. My mistake.
     
    “I’ll drive back to the city in the morning and pick it up for you,” Derek said.
     
    “You will?”
     
    “I know you want to stay here.”
     
    “You do?”
     
    His lips twisted in a smile. Of course he knew. There was no way I would simply drop Max off at Jackson’s and drive back to the city.
     
    “Look. There’s probably another reason why Emily hasn’t called you back,” Max said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been gone three years. She’s moved on by now. I never even gave her a ring. She doesn’t even have the book to remember me by.”
     
    I stared at him in surprise. “Jeez, Max, it’s not like she threw the book away. She was planning to keep it forever. She didn’t even want me to restore it.”
     
    “Maybe not, but as far as she knows, I’ve been dead for three years. She might’ve sold it by now, anyway.”
     
    I slapped his arm lightly. “Dude, it was stolen. You need to have a little faith.”
     
    “I gave up on faith a long time ago, Brooklyn.”
     
    I stared heavenward. “Where’s my violin?”
     
    “Brooklyn,” Derek said in a warning tone.
     
    “Max knows I love him,” I said to Derek, then smacked Max’s arm again. “That’s a love tap and my little way of telling you to lose the doom-and-gloom attitude. We’ve all had a long day, and your whimpering is starting to bug me.”
     
    He frowned back at me and we had a brief standoff. Finally he said, “I’m a soulful artist, Brooks. Doom and gloom is my stock-in-trade.”
     
    “Oh, please.” I made a scoffing sound. “You make goat cheese.”
     
    He flinched, then choked out a laugh. “Come here.” He grabbed me in a choke hold and gave my head a noogie.
     
    “Stop it,” I cried, laughing as I slapped at him like a little girl. “I’m too old for