One Book in the Grave

“Is it big enough for three or four of us?” I asked.

“Plenty big and fully stocked.”

I had more questions, but he flashed me that raised-eyebrow look of his, so I let it go. For now, anyway.

“I’m coming with you,” Emily insisted. “I still have my suitcase in the car.”

“I won’t go without you,” Max said, taking her hand in his. “Never again.”

Chapter 22

It took us a while to pack up our things. This time I knew how the days would go, so I brought some books to read and some pretty blue yarn from China’s shop that I’d promised myself I would knit into a scarf. I included my travel set of bookbinding tools and supplies as well as Beauty. I would need some distractions to get me through the long days without Derek. Since he and Gabriel would be out there shadowing Solomon, I knew I would need plenty of work to fill up my time.

We pla

Two hours earlier, they also might have seen Derek and Gabriel driving off in their own much-flashier cars, looking for all the world as though they were going off to their respective offices or homes.

In reality, Gabriel headed for Dharma to set things up at the house we’d be staying in. Derek, on the other hand, took a scenic drive around the city, in and out of different neighborhoods and up and down the steepest hills he could find. When he was certain he hadn’t been followed, he doubled back toward my place, parked a few blocks away, and stealthily made his way into my building.

Emily’s car remained in my security garage. Derek snuck back out to get his car while the rest of us exited my building out the back. A minute later, Derek pulled up for us and drove us to Dharma.

It might’ve seemed like a lot of trouble to go through just to get out of town. But after being tracked down and discovered three times now, I was willing to make the effort.

On the way to Dharma, I called Inspector Lee to let her know I would be staying at my parents’ house for a few days. Lee had been to Dharma once before, after Abraham Karastovsky was killed, so she’d be able to find me if necessary.

The house Gabriel had arranged for us was hidden in a small canyon on the outskirts of town. It was situated at the dead end of a winding, narrow road, and I noticed that we passed very few houses on the way there.

This house wasn’t as deluxe or as high up on the mountain as my brother’s, but it was plenty big enough, clean, and well provided with food, supplies, and shelves of books. There was a wide-screen, high-definition television with every cable station known to man. The beds were freshly made, and clean towels hung in the bathrooms.

Gabriel showed us around; then Max and Emily wandered off to unpack their things. They had chosen—that is, Emily had insisted on—separate bedrooms, so that left the master bedroom for me and Derek, although Derek didn’t intend to stay here much. The living room couch was a sofa bed, so Gabriel would sleep there tonight, if he slept at all.

We walked outside. Cloud cover hid the moon and stars, so the night was as dark as pitch. Gabriel carefully pointed out where the property ended abruptly at the canyon’s sheer edge. At the bottom of the canyon was a stream and a dirt road, but there were no houses down there. He assured us we would be safe here for a few days.

I turned and studied him closely. “Tell the truth. Is this one of Guru Bob’s safe houses?”

After a pause, he said, “I plead the fifth.”

“Chicken.”

Gabriel’s lopsided grin was positively devilish, but he remained mum.

“Fine,” I said, a little huffy. “Don’t know why I bothered to ask you. I’ll pin down Guru Bob next time I see him.”

“Better him than me,” he said, still gri

Once more, Max and I settled into a daily routine, this time with the addition of Emily.

I had asked myself more than once, Why do I keep insisting on staying with Max? Who had appointed me guardian over the man? The answer was easy, after I’d thought about it awhile. I was the one who had found Joe’s body. I had found Max’s knife in my tire. It was my book, Beauty and the Beast, that had set everything in motion from the day Ian first called me in to restore the book.

No, it went back further. Three years ago, Beauty had played a role. Angelica—or Solomon, or someone, but I still believed it was Angelica—had decided that the book symbolized some elusive prize that, though currently unattainable, might someday be hers. So perhaps she had stolen the book from Emily in hopes of one day using it to attain that prize. Namely, Max.

It was a bizarre theory but it was the only one that worked for me. Deep down inside, I couldn’t fathom why Joe’s killers and Max’s tormentors had carried out such unspeakable acts, but their motivations didn’t matter. All I knew was that I had to take some personal responsibility for seeing that the bad guys were brought to justice. If that made me Nemesis, as Guru Bob had insisted was my role, then so be it.

So here we were in our safe, comfortable house. The three of us made polite conversation when we had to, and otherwise we avoided one another except when necessary. It was easier when Derek showed up at night or Gabriel stopped by. Then it felt like we had company and could socialize pleasantly with each other. But during the day, Emily, Max, and I moved cautiously around one another, trying not to tip the balance of the fragile bubble we’d created to protect Max and Emily.

Max and Emily spent the first two days treating each other with kid gloves, their ma

The second evening, Max turned on the television, and their interaction became a major exercise in diplomacy.

“Do you like this show?”

“Oh, I don’t 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 of yesteryear 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.