Kate Carlisle - One Book In The Grave

“Professor Solomon?” Mom said, her tone guileless. “I’m not sure I know who that is.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Bennie’s lips twisted up in a grimace. “Sorry I was rude. I got a big mouth sometimes. I better get back to work.”

“Wait, Bennie,” Mom said, stopping him. “Crystal Byers said you might be willing to teach me how to reload my ammunition. Can you still do that for me?”

“Oh. Sure. Yeah. I mean, yes, ma’am. Crystal was sayin’ you needed some help with 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 had learned 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 say what 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,” I prayed, unsure if he heard.

But when we got inside, Max was waiting in the living room, holding his rifle pointed at the door.

Gabriel stood nearby, drinking a beer. “You can put the rifle down now, Quick Draw.”

Max lowered the gun. I sucked in a long breath and let it go. So all was right and safe inside my brother’s house for the moment.

But Max insisted he hadn’t left the mallet outside. He hadn’t even seen that particular tool in years.

His enemies had discovered his hiding place. He was no longer safe in Dharma.

Late that night, Derek and I spirited Max back to San Francisco. I’d offered my loft as the most secure place to stay, at least for a short period of time. Since my home had been broken into a while back, the building security had been upgraded. The parking garage had a shiny new security gate now, and the front door required a more intricate digital code to enter. I had lots of living space and an extra bedroom and bathroom Max could use. Not to mention the fact that Derek, supersecurity guy, was living with me.

Gabriel decided to remain in Dharma and keep track of Angelica’s and Solomon’s movements during the day. The nights were a different plan altogether. I confess it made my stomach a little queasy to know that Gabriel intended to stay at Jackson’s house during the nights, in hopes of luring the bad guys into a trap.

Of course, after seeing that papermaker’s mallet on the doormat, I wasn’t sure if my stomach would ever be right again.

“I want you to call one of us every four hours,” I demanded before I would give Gabriel the key to Jackson’s place. “I swear I’ll get in the car and drive up here if I don’t hear from you. Then you’ll really be sorry, mister.”

I was channeling my mother again.

“Babe, I’ll be fine,” Gabriel said. “But thanks for worrying about me. It’s sweet.” Then he kissed me solidly on the lips and grinned as I blinked in dazed surprise.

“Must be time to go,” Derek said wryly.

“Definitely,” I mumbled when I was able to speak again.

I was happy to be home.

Derek and I showed Max around the house; then I got him set up in the guest bedroom. Once we were all situated, we met at the dining room table, where Derek called Gabriel and put him on speakerphone so we could discuss what we’d all found out over the last two days.

I recounted everything Mrs. Plumley told me about Emily being on a leave of absence. I told them what her parents’ neighbor had said. It wasn’t much information, but it gave Max some hope that Emily and her family were probably out of town and hadn’t met with foul play, as we’d feared.

I also braved Derek’s ire and confessed to everything I’d seen at the Art Institute. I showed Max the retrospective poster and watched the mix of emotions that crossed his face. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, ultimately. From one angle, it was a huge honor, but, unfortunately, with Angelica putting the whole show together, it was just plain inexplicable.