One Book in the Grave: A Bibliophile Mystery

care.”
     
    “No, we can watch whatever you want to watch.”
     
    “Oh no. I’ll watch whatever you want to watch.”
     
    Finally, I grabbed the remote and found a
Law & Order
we’d all seen twelve times before.
     
    I was ready to scream. Derek had remained in the city that night, so I had no one to be honest with, no one to talk me down if I was itching to step out of line. So, naturally, I did.
     
    “Meeting in the kitchen,” I bellowed the next morning after I’d gulped down my first cup of restorative coffee.
     
    The sliding-glass door in the living room opened and Max walked in. “They probably heard you yelling all the way down in Glen Ellen. What’s wrong?”
     
    “You shouldn’t be outside,” I snapped back.
     
    “Who died and anointed you the pope?” he said.
     
    I ignored him. “Emily, kitchen. Now.”
     
    “I’m in the middle of something,” Emily said, poking her head out of her bedroom door across the living room. “Can’t it wait?”
     
    I stared cockeyed at her.
In the middle of something?
Where did she think she was? There was
nothing
out here to be in the middle of. “No, it can’t wait. Sorry.”
     
    She huffed and puffed her way across the living room and into the kitchen, then flashed me a scathing look. That’s when I realized that the sweet, docile Emily ofyesteryear was now a pleasantly vague memory. I mentally cheered her on and wished Max lotsa luck. Meanwhile…
     
    “I’m sick of us tiptoeing around each other,” I said. “It feels like we’re at some yoga peace retreat where we’re all expected to be enlightened and groovy and polite.”
     
    “What are you talking about?” she said.
     
    “I’m talking about the fact that I’m scared to death and I imagine both of you are, too.”
     
    She took a breath and some of her features relaxed. I took that as a good sign.
     
    “Max,” I continued, “you’re a guy, so you’re putting up a manly front. I get that. But, Emily, you’re acting like we’re at a garden party, having tea. And me? I’ve turned into a raving bitch.” I glanced around. “Okay, no argument there. So look. I know we haven’t seen each other in a few years, but we were friends, remember? I think we need to start working like a team. As
friends
. Not strangers. Not anymore. We need to stay close and be aware of things around us. We need to be our own best security system.”
     
    “I’ve got my rifle with me at all times,” Max said.
     
    I nodded. “I know, and I’m glad. But if someone is watching this place, if they try to attack us, they’re going to do it while Gabriel and Derek are away. So we’re basically on our own here. I think we should talk about contingencies.”
     
    “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” Emily said sarcastically. “May I go now?”
     
    I was taken aback and answered her in kind. “You
may
kiss my butt.” But I immediately regretted it because I knew something was wrong. “Are you feeling okay?”
     
    “I’m fine,” she said bluntly, before I could finish my sentence.
     
    “You don’t sound fine.”
     
    Her face wrinkled in a scowl and she said, “Bite me.”
     
    It was so incongruous that I laughed. “Okay, you’re supposed to be the nice one. What’s going on?”
     
    She fumed silently and went through lots of lip tightening and teeth baring. Finally she blurted, “I’m going stir-crazy! And I’m frustrated! I’m…I’m…urgh!”
     
    Urgh?
It sounded like she was growling. I had a sneaking feeling what the subtext of her words meant. I turned and looked at Max, who appeared poleaxed. But after a minute, his eyes cleared, then turned dark as he flashed Emily a dangerous scowl.
     
    “Come with me,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of her chair.
     
    “No, you come with me,” she said, and dragged him off toward the bedroom. Before they were out of the room, she hopped up into his arms and straddled him.
     
    Oo-kay. My work here was done.
     
    Over the next few days, I didn’t see much of them. Well, except when they would stumble out of their bedroom, rumpled and replete and hungry. One evening I baked enchiladas, then went to take a long bath. When I got back to the kitchen, there was one enchilada left, and it was the straggly, half-filled one on the end. I guess the young lovers needed to keep up their strength.
    When they weren’t in their bedroom they sat close together on the couch or cuddled on the rug near the