Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

Brooklyn simply chalked it up to their personal business and not my problem.
    “Good morning,” I said cheerfully. “I was just returning another book found in a strange place.” I briefly explained how I’d come across the book in the wine cellar.
    Merrilee stuttered a good morning, then dashed out of the room.
    I watched her go, then glanced at Nathan. “Was it something I said?”
    “No,” he said, scowling. “It’s something I said.”
    His frown was so forbidding that I didn’t even bother to ask. He turned and stared at his computer screen, and I ignored him, refusing to relinquish my good mood.
    Instead I turned to work, always the best distraction for me. Laying a white cloth out on the reading table, I placed the poetry book I’d found yesterday in the middle of the cloth and stared at it for a minute.
    It had been a pretty little thing once upon a time, providing companionship and inspiration to some poetry lover who had probably carried it in his jacket pocket when he went on walks through the woods.
    At least that’s what my imagination conjured up. I liked to picture it as a beloved book whose owner hadtaken good care of it always. Sadly, the owner had died and the book had fallen on hard times.
    Now I examined the cover and, except for the heavy dust and grime and some age spots where the leather had faded, it appeared to be in good condition. I dusted and cleaned it thoroughly with another soft cloth. Then I went through the book page by page, using a thin, stiff brush to swipe away the bits of dirt and film that had collected over the years due to neglect and poor storage conditions.
    The paper itself was in decent shape except for the ubiquitous foxing that occurred in old books. The small brown spots of mildew or dirt were difficult to avoid and hard to get rid of once they had appeared.
    In my workshop at home, I had several methods of lightening spots like these. But I hadn’t brought any of my bleaching supplies with me, so the spots would have to stay for now.
    After placing the poetry book on Nathan’s growing pile of books to catalog, I went back to my desk and pulled some pretty endpapers from my pack of supplies. I used them to wrap the book box I’d made for Grace, then took colored strands of raffia and made a rustic bow.
    I noticed the piles of vintage noir paperbacks were still on my desk. They’d been stacked to the side, out of the way, to make more room for my computer and tools. But now I wondered again what the best thing to do with them might be. They would find a loving home at the Covington Library, if only Grace would allow me to take them. They could be displayed under protective glass to halt their aging process somewhat. Otherwise, if they were stuck on a shelf here, even if wrapped in archival plastic, I was concerned that they might eventually perish.
    Absently I picked up the book on top of the stack. Agatha Christie’s
And Then There Were None
. Sudden shivers tickled my spine as I recalled that the story revolvedaround a number of strangers who were invited to a party at an isolated mansion. The first murder victim in Christie’s classic tale died of cyanide poisoning.
    I set the book down quickly and rubbed my arms to calm the chills.
    I promised myself I would deal with the paperbacks later and went to find Suzie and Vinnie. I tracked them down in the small dining room off the kitchen. Vinnie was drinking a cup of tea while Suzie was just starting to feed Lily a half bottle of formula.
    “Hi, girls,” I said. “How’s our baby?”
    “She is a darling ray of sunshine this morning,” Vinnie said proudly, as she tucked a clean dish towel under Lily’s chin.
    Suzie grinned at me. “How you doin’, kiddo?”
    “I’m kind of a little ray of sunshine myself,” I said, determined to keep the conversation light. “I feel good. Slept well, had a massage, wrapped a present for the birthday girl. Then I came looking for you guys and here you are.”
    “So, what’s up?”
    I helped myself to a cup of coffee from the sideboard and sat down next to Suzie. “I wanted to ask you about something I read in Grace’s book.”
    “Oh, dang. I haven’t even started reading it,” Suzie admitted guiltily.
    “Well, you’ve had your hands full,” I said.
    “True,” she said, smiling down at Lily. Then she looked up at me. “So what about it?”
    “I’m just curious. Did Grace ever talk about having a corporate thief in her company?”
    Suzie thought