One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

are a beast,” I said, teasing him.
     
    “About time you recognized my true nature,” he said, and opened up my refrigerator to stare at the contents.
     
    “I recognized it years ago, Beast.”
     
    “Yeah, I guess you did,” he said, and tweaked my cheek. “Let’s see what you’ve got in the cupboard.”
     
    We made a quickie version of what he called his world-famous chicken Parmigiana recipe from the six ingredients I actually had on hand: frozen chicken breasts, a jar of pasta sauce, bread crumbs, one egg, Parmesan cheese, and linguini. It would’ve helped if I had mozzarella cheese, too, but we worked around that. Because, really, who kept mozzarella on hand, just in case?
    Max pointed out that normally, he would have made the sauce from scratch with fresh tomatoes, onions, and garlic grown in his garden. He would have added heavy cream, too, because that’s how he rolled. The consensus was that our quick-and-dirty version might not have been world famous, but it was pretty darn delicious.
     
    The
effortless
part of cooking was something I stillneeded to work on. But watching Max, I could see his cooking techniques and his movements around the kitchen had everything to do with enjoying the journey and little to do with the results. He didn’t get hung up if every tiny detail wasn’t perfection. He just had a good time. To my surprise, I realized that this was the same philosophy I used with my bookbinding, and vowed that tomorrow night I would prepare dinner effortlessly.
     
    Later that night, Gabriel called and I put him on speakerphone. Clyde sat on my lap during the conversation.
    “I swung by Angelica’s place again,” Gabriel said. “Everything was neat and clean, same as last time, except for one little change.”
     
    I jumped forward in my chair. “What?”
     
    “Did you find a gun?” Max asked.
     
    “No,” he said. “I found every piece of clothing from her closet tossed on the bed.”
     
    “So she probably wasn’t there to meet a guy,” I said.
     
    Derek’s eyebrow jutted up. “Bit difficult to carry on an affair when you can’t find the bed.”
     
    “Were the clothes tossed neatly?” I asked.
     
    “No,” Gabriel said. “It was a mess. Jumbled.”
     
    “Like she was packing in a hurry?” I suggested.
     
    Gabriel paused, then said, “Maybe. At first I was thinking she might’ve stopped by to pick up something different to wear. Except—”
     
    “Except it’s a mess,” I cut in. “So why would she leave everything out in a pile on the bed? Especially when the rest of the place is so tidy?”
     
    “Good question,” Gabriel said.
     
    “You’ll watch for her next move,” Derek said.
     
    Gabriel made a sound of disgust. “I would if I could find her. She’s disappeared.”
     
    “Maybe she did pack for a trip,” I said.
     
    “Maybe,” Gabriel said, but he sounded unconvinced. Changing the subject, he said, “I tracked down Bennie and Stefan. Or maybe I should call them Beavis and Butt-head. Whoever said they weren’t exactly geniuseswas right on. Personally, I think they would sell their souls for a box of candy bars.”
     
    “So they should be easy to manipulate,” Derek said.
     
    I had already told them about the conversation with Bennie at the Art Institute store the other day, so now I agreed. “Bennie would be very easy to manipulate. Stefan seemed to be a little more on the ball. Still, Solomon is a master manipulator. He would have no problem with either of them.”
     
    “That was my impression, too,” Gabriel said. “And I took your advice and snuck into one of his classes. Interesting guy.”
     
    “For a psychopath,” Max muttered.
     
    “Exactly,” Gabriel said.
     
    “What else?” Derek asked.
     
    Gabriel paused, then said, “Well, now that I’ve been out to the Hollow a few times, I’ll admit I misjudged the place. Maybe it was because of that name,
the Hollow
, but I assumed the houses would be shacks and hovels. They’re not. A bunch of them are really nice and some of them are huge.”
     
    “The Ogunites believe in having lots of babies,” I explained.
     
    “That must be why,” Gabriel said. “Anyway, back to Bennie and Stefan. Solomon might be getting those two knuckleheads to do some of his dirty work, but my professional opinion? Neither of them is clever or vicious enough to have killed Joe Taylor.”
     
    Derek leaned one elbow on the table. “So that brings us back to Angelica or