One Book in the Grave (26 page)

“I hate to disrupt the cat,” he said, “but I’d rather you confirm that you know her first.”

“Okay.” I gently nudged Clyde off my lap and walked over to the door, where I squinted through the peephole at the woman waiting in the hall.

My jaw dropped to the ground and my heart stuttered in my chest. But I managed to recover enough to whisper, “Emily?”

“One of your neighbors let me into the building,” Emily explained, clutching her hands together nervously. “I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s…wonderful.” Taking Emily’s arm, I led her into the apartment. “Come in, please. Wow. How are you? It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, hesitating just inside the doorway. “Sorry to just drop in.”

“It’s no problem.”

She took a moment to gaze around my workroom, and I could see her eyes focusing on the many shelves and rows and rows of threads and tools and papers and map drawers. “Nice space.”

“Thanks. Oh, Emily.” I grabbed her in a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Glad she was alive. Glad she hadn’t been hurt, and just glad in general. Of course, this opened a whole new world of
uh-oh
s, too. Max was here. In the house. Emily thought he was dead. And I wouldn’t have the chance to warn either one of them before they saw each other, so…uh-oh.

“Yeah, me, too,” she said, hugging me tightly. “It’s been too long.” After a moment, she stepped back and ran a nervous hand through her long brown hair. She hadn’t changed much, except that she’d grown her hair
longer and had gotten even prettier than she’d been three years ago. More elegant somehow, and calmer.

“Look,” she said, folding her hands as she spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t return your phone calls. I wanted to, but I was visiting my parents, who are staying in Cleveland for a few months. My dad’s sick. He’s at the Cleveland Clinic and…well, you don’t need to know the details. Anyway, I just flew into SFO and didn’t feel like driving straight home. So I thought that as long as I was in town, I’d take a chance and stop by. I hope you don’t mind, but I Googled you and got your business address. Anyway, here I am—and, God, I’m talking too much.”

“No, you’re not,” I said, laughing. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. But I’m so happy to see you. I’m blown away that you came by.”

I glanced over at Derek and saw the
What do we do about this?
look on his face, and I answered with a shrug. One glance at Gabriel’s smile told me he was enjoying the drama of the situation. I was willing to bet that Max wouldn’t.

“What’s going on, Brooklyn?” she asked. “Your messages made it sound urgent.”

“Yeah, it is. But first, I hope everything’s okay with your dad.” I knew the Cleveland Clinic’s reputation for working medical miracles—sometimes.

“Thanks,” she said. “I do, too. I’m going back there next week, but I had to take care of some things at home.”

“Well, we can go into the living room, I guess.” No way to avoid the death cooties from Angelica’s body now, and I couldn’t keep Emily standing in the workroom. Now it was my turn to be nervous.

“Okay.” But she stopped and smiled at Gabriel and Derek. “Hello.”

“Hi there,” Gabriel said with a grin.

Derek nodded. “Hello.”

“Sorry. My manners went missing,” I said. “These are friends of mine. This is Derek Stone and that’s Gabriel.”

“Hi,” she said again, and went back to clutching her hands together. “Well. You look really good, Brooklyn.”

“Oh, thanks. So do you.” This was ridiculous. I had to give her some kind of hint about why I’d been calling. It wasn’t fair to just spring Max on her. She was young, but a shock like that could bring on a sudden heart attack. God, why hadn’t she called me first? “Look, Emily, I don’t how to—”

“Found more chips,” Max said as he walked back into the room, shaking the bag. He stopped abruptly and stared, gaping at the woman. “Emily?”

I heard a long gasp, then a moan. I was just in time to catch her on her way to the floor.

“Emily!” Max cried out, and ran over. I moved out of the way as he took her from me. He knelt down and laid her out on the floor, slipping his hand under her head and pressing his other hand to her cheek. “Oh, my God, Emily. Emily.”

Shoot! This was awful! I should have found a way to warn her. But was there really any way to prepare her for seeing her dead boyfriend all hale and hearty? Watching the expression on Max’s face, hearing the desperation in his voice, I had to blink to clear my tear-filled eyes. I’d been doing that a lot lately.

Derek closed the front door and, to be safe, knelt down to check her wrist for a pulse. “She’s fine. Just a bit of a shock, I’m guessing.”

“Just a bit,” I said dryly. He stood and grinned and wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Max,” I said softly. “You scared the hell out of her.”

“She scared the hell out of me, too,” he said, looking up and scowling mildly. “Probably took ten years off my life. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“How could I warn you? She just showed up here! I didn’t know she was coming. Besides, if I were going to warn anybody, it would’ve been her.
You
already knew you were alive.”

He shook his head and looked back at Emily, moved his hand over her shoulder and her hair, barely touching
her in case he might hurt her. All the while he whispered over and over, “So beautiful. Still so beautiful.”

“She’s waking up,” I murmured. “Maybe you should get her off the floor.”

I watched Emily blink a few times, then focus on Max’s face. She groaned. “No. I’m dreaming.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no. You’re not dreaming.”

She silently began to cry.

“Please,” he said, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. “Please don’t cry.”

“Max, pick her up,” I whispered. But he seemed frozen in place, unable to take action. Derek squeezed my waist and I looked up at him. He tilted his head toward the living room, indicating we should leave them alone.

Is he kidding?
I shook my head and he frowned at me. But come on. Seriously? Maybe it was nosy of me, but there was no way I was leaving the two of them alone. I wanted a front-row seat, wanted to savor every last second of their tearful reunion. I’m just a big sap that way.

As her tears began to dry, Emily hiccupped a few times, then swallowed awkwardly. Glancing around, she took a deep breath and let it out, then said, “Help me up, please?”

Max immediately slipped his arms under her and stood with her still in his clutches.

“You can put me down now,” she said.

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m never letting you go again.”

“Like you did before? Let me go, I mean.” Emily just stared at him, her expression unreadable.

“I didn’t want to.”

“But why, Max? You died. And now you’re here? What happened? Where did you go? Why did you leave me?” She sniffled and seemed to lose strength. Her eyes closed.

“Bring her into the living room, Max,” Derek suggested. “She can lie down on the couch.”

“And then you can try to explain what happened,” I said to Max.

He gave me a foreboding look, then whisked his fair Emily off to the living room.

Gabriel’s grin grew even wider. “Guess I’ll have that beer, after all.”

When Emily had revived, there were hugs and more tears and kisses. Her smile seemed permanently fixed to her face, and, frankly, I was sort of amazed at how well this reunion was going. If my boyfriend had disappeared on me, then popped up again seemingly from the grave three or six or eight years later, I’m pretty sure I would have been furious first and then maybe I’d think about being happy to see him again. Emily was clearly a much better person than I. Finally she sat up, asked for a glass of water, then went off to use the bathroom.

I went into the kitchen to get her water and carried it back to the living room. I set the glass on the coffee table and sat back down.

Max, meanwhile, had begun to pace the floor. “Is she all right? She’s been gone too long.”

“Chill out,” I said. “She’s been crying, so she’s washing her face and fixing her hair. Give her a minute.”

He started to pace again, then halted when Emily walked back into the room. Instantly, he was at her side, taking hold of her hand. “God, I’m thrilled to see you again. It’s like we were never apart.”

“But we
were
apart,” she said flatly, her smile finally gone. “For three years, Max. You were dead, remember?”

“It was for a good reason. I promise.”

“I’m sure it was. And so is this.” She wound her arm back and slugged him right in the gut.

Now, that reaction I understood completely.

“Ow. Damn it!” He grabbed his stomach and inched back from her. “If one more woman takes a swing at me, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” She stepped closer and pressed up
against him, jabbing him in his chest with her finger. “What will you do?”

“Never mind,” he muttered, glaring down at her. Even though he towered over her and outweighed her by a hundred pounds or so, she showed no fear.

“Never mind,” she repeated, nodding her head in double time. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

I choked on a laugh. Max was three for three in the gut-punching sweepstakes. I happened to glance at Gabriel, who was grimacing as he unconsciously patted his own stomach. That’s when I lost it and laughed out loud.

“Stop that,” Max said, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You’re enjoying this too much.” Then he turned on Emily. “And you. You’ve never been a violent person. What was that for?”

“What was tha—? Are you kidding? You drove over a cliff and died! You left me alone for three years!” She pointed her own finger in his direction. “You’re right. I never was violent before, but I’m feeling it now. I thought you were dead. But you weren’t. You just left. I wasn’t worth a call? A note? You couldn’t text me?” She shook all over in anger. “You should be glad I only hit you in the stomach.”

He looked uncomfortable at that, but then stubbornly insisted, “I couldn’t tell you.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“I was protecting you,” he said hotly. “And if you’d seen that body in the box that showed up here a few hours ago, you’d understand exactly what I was dealing with back then and why I was trying to protect you.”

“Oh, please. What body in the box?” she asked, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

He whipped around and looked straight at me. “Tell her.”

I stared at him for a second or two, then turned to Emily. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes,” she said irately, and followed me into the 11 kitchen. “A big one.”

I grabbed a glass from the shelf, then turned to her. “Are you okay?”

She scraped her hair off her face, fell back against the refrigerator, and shut her eyes tightly. “Oh, God. I’m…I’m furious.” She opened her eyes and watched as I poured the wine.

“I was furious, too,” I confessed. “And the only reason I was laughing a minute ago was because when I first saw him, I punched him in the stomach, too. And so did my mother.”

“Good,” she said viciously. “God! I don’t think I’ve ever been this down-to-the-bone angry.”

“Well, maybe a few sips of wine will help.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip and placed the glass on the counter. She had to lean against the fridge for another moment. “Oh, God, I’m so mad at him.”

I rubbed her shoulder. “I understand, sweetie.”

“But, Brooklyn, I’m so…so…” She pressed her hand to her mouth and her eyes began to water again. She whispered, “I’m so happy.”

“Oh, Emily.” I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m happy, too.”

An hour later, we all sat in the living room, talking. Max and Emily sat close together at one end of the couch, but I sensed plenty of nervousness from both of them. There were the occasional pats on the knees and shoulders rubbing together, but otherwise they barely made eye contact. When Max snuck a glance, Emily would look away. And vice versa. Essentially, they were strangers. I knew—well, I
hoped
, anyway—that they would work things out, but it was going to take some time. Unfortunately, there was a killer on the loose, and that could put a damper on any immediate plans of Max’s to rush Emily back into his life.

I sat at the other end of the couch, close to Derek, who’d taken the big red chair. Gabriel had pulled over one of the leather Buster chairs and we all had our feet up on the coffee table and were thinking about ordering pizza.

Because Max had insisted, Derek and I had started the conversation by describing to Emily the gruesome details of what happened when we opened the box I’d thought would contain new bookshelves. I still shivered when I pictured Angelica inside that box, her lips blue, her skin devoid of color, her lifeless body arranged so demurely in a long velvet dress with dying flowers strewn all around her.

“How sick can you get?” Emily said, frowning deeply.

I briefly described how the Covington had obtained the stolen
Beauty and the Beast
and what happened when I got to Joe Taylor’s bookstore.

Then Max told her everything he’d endured three years ago and why he’d concluded that his only option was to stage his own death.

“I wish you’d trusted me,” she said, rubbing her face wearily. “I don’t understand why you didn’t say anything when little Jake was kidnapped or when my mother was hurt.”

“I was scared to death, Emily,” he said, clutching her hand. “I was on the edge and not thinking straight. I have no other excuses.”

“Well, I hate those people for destroying you that way,” she said fiercely. “I hope I never run into this Solomon character, because he might not survive my wrath.”

“I feel the same way,” I said, fuming all over again after hearing Max repeat the story. “But I just realized that you may be more vulnerable to Solomon now than you ever were before.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because he’s so much more desperate now,” I said, looking at Derek for backup. “Three years ago, harassing Max might have been a lark for him, something he could well have done to impress Angelica. But now, whether he killed her or not, he’s all alone, with only his twisted imagination to fuel his actions. I’ll bet he’s slowly losing whatever he has left of his rational mind.”