One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

that, and I’m your man.” Belatedly he remembered his manners and whipped off his baseball cap. His hair was stick straight and flopped into his eyes. He brushed it back impatiently.
     
    “Yes, she said you were the best man for the job.”
     
    He puffed up his scrawny chest and grinned. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”
     
    “Good. Now, I should tell you, I’m only interested in reloading shotgun shells for dove hunting, so I went out and picked up the Lee Load-All Reloader with the primer feed attachment.”
     
    He nodded in approval. “That’s a good little starter kit.”
     
    “That’s what I was told.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her purse and wrote something down, then handed it to Bennie.
     
    “This is my phone number. I can start anytime next week, and I’ll be glad to pay you for your time.”
     
    He stared at the paper for a few seconds, then looked at Mom. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll call you.”
     
    “You do that, Benjamin,” she said, patting his arm. “You’re a good boy.”
     
    Back at Mom’s, we had our customary glass of wine while we waited for Dad to come home. I hadn’t heard from Derek yet. I was hoping he would make it to Dharma tonight, not only because I missed him, but also because it would mean that things had calmed down at his office. But most of all, we needed to get back to Jackson’s house to see Max and find out what Gabriel hadlearned about Angelica. And I had some interesting news of my own, thanks to our field trip to the Art Institute earlier.
    I was sitting at the kitchen table, watching Mom whip up a marinade for the steaks Dad would grill later for the two of them. As I sipped my wine, I remembered something I’d meant to ask her. “Mom, did you really buy an ammo reloader?”
     
    “Of course not. You know I hate guns.”
     
    “But how did you know what to say to Bennie?”
     
    She winked at me and said, “Now,
that’s
how you tell a lie.”
     
    I just had to laugh.
     
    A car door slammed outside and I went running out the front door to see if it was Derek. Sure enough, there was the Bentley. I didn’t want to appear too anxious, so I waited patiently for him at the front door. After a few seconds, I blew off that idea and raced down the front walk. He opened his arms just in time to grab hold of me, and we stood like that for a minute or two.
     
    Gazing down at me, he asked, “What’s all this about?”
     
    “I was worried,” I confessed. “How was your day?”
     
    “Busy, but I managed to accomplish a few things and escape with my skin intact.”
     
    I smiled. “I’m so glad. So, any news on the survivalists?”
     
    He stroked my hair, calming me as if I were a jumpy young pony. “Let’s wait to meet with Gabriel and Max and I’ll tell you all everything.”
     
    But forty minutes later, when we arrived at Max’s door, we found a large wooden mallet leaning against the threshold. It was the type of mallet used by papermakers to pound pulp.
     
    “Max wouldn’t leave his tools around like this,” I said, staring at it.
     
    “No, I’m sure he wouldn’t.” Derek pushed me behind him, but I pushed right back out again. It was just a mallet. Still, it was eerie to see it there.
     
    “So if he didn’t leave it here…” I didn’t have to saywhat I was thinking. Derek was having the same thought. This was a message. Sent by the same person who had left Max’s paper knife stuck in my tire.
     
    I reached for the mallet.
     
    “Don’t touch it.”
     
    “It’s…it’s for making paper,” I murmured. “You use it to beat pulp.” Crushing fear spiraled right down into my bones. I felt my muscles give way and I had to lean into Derek. “This is impossible.”
     
    “Easy, darling,” Derek said, grabbing me around the waist to keep me from slithering to the ground. “Maybe Max left it out here.”
     
    But neither of us believed that.
     
    “Let’s get you inside,” Derek said softly.
     
    Was he kidding? Go inside the house, where something might be terribly wrong? “No.”
     
    But he wouldn’t listen to me. Prying the house key from my useless fingers, he knocked twice on the door, then pushed it open.
     
    “Be careful,” I warned him, my voice shaking with dread as I saw him reach for his gun and take a step inside.
     
    Yes, he was brave and strong and really hot. But no matter how good he was at his job, I worried for Derek when he walked right into possible danger.
     
    “Watch out, please,”