One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

know!” Crystal beamed. “I’m so proud to be a small contributor to his evolution. He’s a budding naturalist and, oh, such a deep thinker.”
     
    “Well, he is a full professor,” I said.
     
    “Exactly.” She sighed. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that Solomon’s taken Bennie and Stefan under his wing. I know he only befriended them to learn more survivalist skills, but that’s a good sign, isn’t it? Bennie’s taught him how to shoot and reload, and last week, Stefan showed him how to skin a squirrel.”
     
    “How thrilling,” Mom said.
     
    “Isn’t it?” Crystal nodded excitedly. “But, personally, I think the boys will learn so much more from having a man like Solomon around as a role model than he’ll ever learn from them.”
     
    “Oh, I’m sure you’re right,” I said sincerely. I would warn her to stay away from Solomon later, but right now I wanted to keep her talking.
     
    She leaned closer so she wouldn’t be overheard. “It’s sad, though, because Bennie and Stefan are so immature.” She laughed. “Seriously, I could live off the land better than those two knuckleheads ever could. And I can say that because they’re my brothers.”
     
    “They are?” I didn’t remember them all being related.
     
    “Oh, I mean they’re my church brothers. I’ve known them forever and, you know, they’re still boys.” She laughed and waved her hands philosophically. “They can be so juvenile.”
     
    “I have brothers so I know what you mean,” I said, chuckling in camaraderie.
     
    “But Solomon is a
man
.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
     
    Mom stepped forward eagerly. “I simply must have another taste of that pineapple.”
     
    “You know, Crystal,” I said, rushing to change the subject, “it’s been a long time since I taught at the institute, but I distinctly remember one woman who taught there. What was her name?” I thought for a few seconds. “Angela? Angelina?”
     
    “Angelica.” Crystal nearly spat the word.
     
    “That’s her,” I whispered triumphantly. “She was a piece of work.”
     
    “I know it’s wrong, but I really hate her,” Crystal said in an undertone. “She’s horrible. Nasty. Brooklyn, I swear I never say things like this, but that woman is the
B
word.”
     
    Whoa. The
B
word. That was some kind of serious condemnation coming from Crystal.
     
    Her shoulders tightened and she busied herself by grabbing her fruit knife and slicing up fresh peaches to demonstrate the miracle action of the Monarch 5000.
     
    “I didn’t like her, either,” I confessed.
     
    “I’m so glad to hear that, Brooklyn,” she said. “I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, but she’s just a mean person. I don’t know what Solomon sees in her.”
     
    “So they’re still dating?”
     
    “If you want to call it that. But I’ve seen her with other men,” she whispered. “I call that cheating.”
     
    “Have you had some run-ins with her?”
     
    “Multiple run-ins,” she said, emphasizing every syllable. “I live in the Hollow, and my church members over there are my best customers. I’m always stopping by to drop off the latest updates on dehydrators and survivalist tools, plus I hand out free samples of my family’s orchard products. Everybody loves those.”
     
    “I know I do,” Mom piped up.
     
    Crystal grinned as she continued slicing up fruit.“Since Solomon is such a good customer, I’ve stopped by his place a few times, too. He’s been so nice to me, I like to bring him baked goods and things. The last few times I’ve come by, he’s told me I can come anytime and I think he means it in a special way. But Angelica is so rude. She actually threatened me once. I know it’s because she’s jealous that Solomon shows an interest in me. She chased me all the way out to my car the other day and said horrible things. It made me so mad, I wanted…oh.” She dropped the knife as blood spurted from her finger.
     
    “Oh, goodness,” Mom said, grabbing a napkin and wrapping it around Crystal’s finger.
     
    “Thanks, Mrs. Wainwright. I’m such a klutz sometimes.”
     
    “What are you whispering about over there?” Melody asked, staring pointedly at her sister. “Get over here. I’ve sold two more dehydrators.”
     
    “OMG, yay,” Crystal said unsteadily, then tried to laugh, but it came out a nervous titter. “Gosh, Brooklyn, you really got me going about that woman.”
     
    “I’m so sorry.” I