Found at the Library (5 page)

Tommy’s stomach sank to his feet. While he’d had a feeling that was the case after the diagnosis two—or was it three—days ago, hearing the truth took his breath away. Spots encroached on his vision.

“Regardless,” the doctor continued, “your brother is going to need long term care in a treatment facility, for his physical and mental recovery as well as his drug rehabilitation. You need to be prepared for that. The nurses at the front desk will have a list of appropriate facilities in the area. We’ll need to know where you want to send him for the next step.”

Tommy gritted his teeth. He still refused to believe his brother had become a drug addict, and he hadn’t seen the signs. Yes, he’d been busy the last couple of months, but wouldn’t he have noticed that? But if this wasn’t a case of accidental overdose, that meant Ryder had deliberately tried to kill himself. Was that any better? It was all bad, no matter how Tommy looked at it.

And now Ryder needed long-term medical care. Would his federal insurance cover it? That had to be expensive. Crap. After the high school football accident, Ryder had lousy insurance, which probably wouldn’t pay for a decent facility. Could he figure out a way to pay the difference for a better place? Would it make a difference anymore?

He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, thank you, doctor. Can I go in and see him now?”

Dr. Phillips gave a distracted wave. “What? Oh yes, that’s fine.” He’d already moved on mentally to the next patient.

No one here cared about Ryder besides him. To them, he was just another druggie who wasted his life and their resources. But Tommy wanted to rail at them for the unfairness of that judgment, and all that had befallen Ryder during his very short life. He’d managed to hold it together after being partially paralyzed during his final high school football game, but at twenty-five, he was already too young and beaten down by life to deal with the guilt of their mother dying. Cancer had killed her, not Ryder.

He’d become depressed. Tommy should have seen the signs of Ryder’s downward spiral, but he’d been dealing with his own grief and life, and now it was too late. Ryder was in a much worse place than he’d ever been before. And before had left him desolate. How did Tommy convince him that life was worth living when he woke up?

When Tommy walked into the room, Ryder lay on his bed looking as pale and still as ever. Tommy would have never guessed his brother had been fighting for his life over the past few days if not for all the medical equipment surrounding him and the tubes leading to his nose. His beautiful, all-American, sweet little brother simply looked like he was asleep.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair. His mother would never forgive him if she knew how far he’d let Ryder slide. He should have been there more for him. This was his fault. At twenty-five, Ryder should be in the prime of his life. He should be developing laugh lines, not lying in ICU of the hospital, fighting for his life.

He grabbed hold of Ryder’s hand. “I’m gonna do better for you. I promise. I need you to come back to me. We’ll figure all this out. Together. You and me, Ry, we can beat this, but I need you to come back to me. I love you, and I need you, bro. Please.”

Tommy lay his head on the side of the bed, so fucking tired he couldn’t think anymore, but then Ryder squeezed his hand. Tommy automatically returned the grip and then jerked his gaze up to Ryder’s face. Not a twitch there, but he was waking up.

Oh, thank fuck. Relief flooded him, and Tommy wanted to weep.

The doctor had been right. His brother was waking up.

***

Mac let himself back into Tommy’s store.
Nothing like a little breaking and entering to kick off the holiday season.
Although he had the key, could it still be considered B and E? Probably, since he’d most definitely stolen the key. Well, if he got caught, that was one of the reasons he hired a good legal team, right? Not that he made a habit of doing things like this.

In fact, the more he considered it, the more he wondered if maybe he’d suffered a mental break.

But considering that possibility meant that he still had the ability to reason, right? So, that would be no. No mental break happening here.

“Yeah, that will work for your defense,” he muttered quietly.

When he came in the first time, he’d been more focused on the studio area that made up the open space at the back of the store, but now he focused on the store in the front. It was an old storefront with the twenty-foot high, dramatic pressed-tin ceilings, exposed original brickwork, and huge arched paned windows with the trim painted black. The large windows allowed in lots of light from the front.

In the store area, the lighting had been done dramatically. Hanging clusters of old-style light bulbs highlighted the vignettes of product...almost all of it reading or book-themed. Why would someone who claimed he never read choose this subject matter for his business?

Tommy was a puzzle Mac wanted to solve. Maybe working here would give him at least a few of those answers.

He hefted his leather messenger bag onto the counter next to the register and pulled out a yellow legal pad to start making lists. He needed to prioritize, because he had a lot to get done and a finite amount of time in which to do it. As he glanced around the darkened store, he decided he needed to call Emily and get her help.

But then he saw a flash of grey dart across the floor. Was that a small cat or a large rat? He gave a shudder, suddenly questioning his commitment to this project. If rats were involved, that may mean the end to his involvement. He tiptoed across the quiet store and ducked down to look under the table where he’d seen the creature disappear.

Peering out at him were the big golden eyes of a tiny cat. She couldn’t be much more than a kitten from what he could tell. “Hey beautiful,” he coaxed, using his most soothing voice. “You’re a pretty little thing. Do you belong to Tommy?”

She gave him a tiny mew.

“I know, but his brother’s sick, so he can’t be here much right now. I promise, I’m nice.”

She didn’t look so sure as she shrank back farther.

“Okay, I get the hint. I don’t want to terrify you. But I’ll be around if you want to come say hi.”

He glanced down at the cell phone still in his hand and dialed. Emily answered on the first ring. “Tell me this means you have a book to share with me,” she said.

He winced. “Um, no, that’s not it. I actually hoped you could clear your calendar today to help a fellow human—and maybe a cat—in need.”

“What are you up to, McIntyre? Did you say cat?” Her voice sounded suspicious, but it showed the true depth of their friendship that she didn’t tell him “hell no” immediately. In December, nobody had a full day to spare, and Emily was no different than anyone else in that regard.

“I’ll explain what I can when you get here. Please, Em, and tonight I’ll send you the book I’ve been writing, and it will clear a lot of it up, I think. Although the book isn’t quite done yet.” With that sentence, his stomach rolled over on itself.

Passing that book over to someone else to read felt like opening up his chest to the vultures. He’d never put more of his own soul into a book than he had this one, and as he looked around Tommy’s space, he could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into this chasm, unsure how he would ever get back out. Or if he even wanted to...

After he hung up with Emily, he was trying to find the light switches for the store when someone knocked on the door. He turned to see a tiny, grandmotherly type peering through the large-paned windows.

He grabbed the key off the counter and went to the door to open the deadbolt.

She squinted at him suspiciously. “You’re not Tommy.”

“No, ma’am. My name’s Mac. I’m manning the store for Tommy today. I’m running a little behind. Is there something I can help you with?”

She raised an imperious eyebrow at him, obviously not believing his story. “Tommy doesn’t like anyone to mess with his system. He’s very particular. Who are you, and what have you done with him?” She whipped out her phone and her fingers hovered over the buttons in a very threatening pose.

“It sounds like you know Tommy well. His brother is in the hospital, so I’m trying to help out. That’s all, I promise.”

Her eyes widened. “Ryder’s sick? What’s wrong with the boy? Is he going to be okay?”

He shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know what his condition is. I don’t know what happened. I just want to help.”

She forced her way into the store and leaned more heavily on her cane as she glanced around. He dragged a chair over to her. “Here, have a seat. You can help fill in what I don’t know. You know the brothers well?”

She gave him another all too-seeing, searching look.

But with her curly gray hair and dimples that had been imbedded in her cheeks after years of smiling, it was hard to take her too seriously. If Mrs. Claus came to visit Denver, she would look like this woman.

“Who exactly did you say you were?”

He could tell with this feisty one, he would to have to pull out the big guns. “People call me Mac, but my real name is Robert McIntyre. You might have heard of me.” He had been there long enough to realize that several of his books occupied the bookshelves in the workshop side of the large open room. He walked over, grabbed a couple of them, and brought them to her. “I write books.” He flipped the one over that still had the dust jacket on it and pointed to the picture. “That was a few years ago, but I think the likeness is still pretty much the same. Just pretend you don’t see the additional wrinkles in the real life version.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she pointed to the other. “I’ve read that one. Not your best work.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Aw, a critic. In my defense, it was only the third book I ever wrote.”

She harrumphed at him. “So how does a famous novelist end up working as a sales clerk? I’ve heard the book business has taken a turn, but I didn’t think it had gotten that bad yet.”

“No ma’am. I’m doing fine. Like I said, I’m just trying to help.”

She raised an imperious eyebrow, assessing him. She gave a sharp nod, and then began to roll up the sleeves of her button down blouse. “Well, in that case, I guess I had better make sure you don’t sell all his stock for less than it’s worth. My name’s Francis O’Shay, but you can call me Franny. I’ll run the checkout counter for you.”

For a moment, he considered whether he should trust some stranger off the street with Tommy’s store, but then almost laughed out loud at himself. It sounded like she knew the Garrett brothers a whole lot better than he did. Maybe her presence might keep him out of jail when Tommy found out what he’d done. Besides, he did need some help. He had no idea how to run a store, and from the sounds of it, she at least had shopped here before so she’d know the stock and what Tommy expected.

“Okay, Franny, nice to meet you, and I appreciate the help. Since I don’t have the key to the register, my friend is bringing in some petty cash and a way for us to run credit cards. She should be here in a little bit. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can find the switches for the lights.”

He picked up her chair and moved it behind the counter so she could sit while she worked. He couldn’t have her falling and getting hurt on his watch.

“Thank you, dearie, but I’m not as frail as all that. I’ll be fine. Go find the switches, and I’ll flip the sign to let the world know we’re open.”

He nodded and glanced around. A massive bookcase covered the back wall, but a small door stood to the side of it so he went there, hoping it led to some sort of storeroom where he’d find the power source for the store. The door was locked and he had a momentary flash of panic, but luckily the front door key worked here, too. He slotted it in and opened the door.

Mac gasped as he flipped a switch. It led to a whole new world filled with even more books and art pieces. This storeroom was huge and overflowing with all the things that made his heart beat. How could he have been so wrong about Tommy? T. Garrett shared the same exact passions as him, he just channeled them differently, and with every layer peeled back, Mac wanted to know more about this elusive man.

***

At five o’clock that night, Mac turned the  “closed” sign on the front door of Tommy’s store. He had no idea how busy the store normally was, but they stayed busy all day long. It had taken all three of them...Franny, Emily, and Mac...to figure out how to muddle through. He’d finally sent Franny home around three o’clock when she looked about ready to drop in exhaustion.

Emily finished tallying the day’s receipts. “Well, we made Mr. Garrett over three thousand dollars today. Maybe that will keep you out of jail.” Emily thought they would all be behind bars by Christmas Eve. But in a show of ultimate friendship, she’d hung in and helped him regardless.

He needed to figure out an amazing Christmas gift for her this year.

“So, what’s the plan now, Mac? You’ve insinuated yourself into this stranger’s life. Do you even know the next step in this hair-brained scheme?”

“I plan to go feed him and sneak his key back on his key ring.”

She shook her head. “You’re not even going to tell him what you’ve done?”

“I don’t know, Em. I don’t think he’s the type of guy who would appreciate the help.”

She studied him for a moment. “Then why? I don’t understand this, Mac. Don’t get me wrong...you’re a great guy, but this isn’t like you to force your way into someone else’s life. What’s different here?”

“He was drowning, Em. I could see it, and I couldn’t not help. I actually met him a couple of months ago, but I don’t have time to explain it all. I need to get to the hospital. Can I call you when I get home tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. You promised me a manuscript. Come by with it, a bottle of red wine, and be ready to tell me your story, and that will go a long way to making up for the craziness of today. But you need to know, I still won’t forgive you if I end up in jail over this.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll promise to keep your name out of it.” Surely, it wouldn’t come to that. The holidays were a hard time of the year when people were stressed. It could be lonely and isolating. Mac knew that from his mother. It couldn’t be a crime to offer help to lighten that load. Tommy had to see it that way, too