One Book in the Grave (35 page)

Emily burst into happy tears. A very satisfactory reaction, except that nobody cried alone when I was around. Derek handed me his handkerchief and I sniffled along with Emily.

“Thanks, honey,” Max said, and bent down to kiss my cheek.

“Thank you, Brooklyn,” Emily whispered, as the crowd around us applauded.

Beside me, Derek wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
I gazed up at him and smiled. Was everyone as happy as I was at that very moment?

Emily cleared her throat and gripped Max’s arm firmly. “Brooklyn, I want you to know that my Beast and I will cherish and enjoy this book forever.”

I felt someone nudge my elbow and turned around to find Ian waggling his eyebrows at me. I winced as I realized I’d forgotten to ask Emily about donating the book to the Covington. I shook my head at Ian, but he just smiled.

Max took the book from Emily and said, “And since we want everyone to cherish and enjoy the book as much as we do, we’re donating it to the children’s wing of the Covington Library, where it’ll bring happiness to children of every age.”

My eyes widened and I whipped around. “You didn’t.”

Ian laughed. “I did. I’m pushy that way.”

The crowd burst into applause again, and Ian cheered the loudest. “Champagne for everyone!”

“A toast!” Dad cried, holding up his champagne glass as Savannah’s waiters sifted through the crowd, pouring the bubbly for everyone.

Emily and Max exchanged glances, then looked at me. Emily was blushing as Max said, “We’ll be toasting with ginger ale. We’re having a baby.”

I gasped and Derek laughed as I fumbled for his handkerchief again. I couldn’t help it. I just loved a happy ending.

“We call it the library suite,” my hostess said, beaming with pride as she led me into the spacious bedroom suite that would be all mine for the next six days.

“I can see why.” Gazing around the room, I hoped my expression remained calm despite a volatile mix of shock, fascination, and trepidation coursing through me as I took in the mad proliferation of books.

I love books, but this is ridiculous,
I thought.

“Isn’t it marvelous?” she said, smoothing the pale sage duvet cover on the king-sized bed. “Ruth teases me about my book obsession, but I have a good time with it.”

“I’m stunned,” I muttered. It was the truth. The number of books she’d managed to cram into this spacious bedroom/sitting room was astounding.

I’m Brooklyn Wainwright, book restoration expert and lover of books, good food and wine, and lately, doughnuts. I had driven up to Lake Tahoe that morning with my two favorite neighbors, Suzie Stein and Vinnie Patel, to spend a week at the home of Suzie’s wealthy, eccentric aunt Grace Crawford.

Grace’s good friend Ruth Kinsley had convinced Grace to celebrate her fiftieth birthday with an old-fashioned house party on the lake. In her invitation, Grace had promised her guests that this weeklong party
would be the most delightful, fabulous shindig ever—the sort of party we’d all still be talking about for the next fifty years.

“I looked over my guest list,” Grace said, fluffing one of the pillows, “and I couldn’t think of anyone but you for this room.”

“That’s sweet,” I said, hoping she could hear a trace of sincerity in my voice as I parked my rolling suitcase near the foot of the bed. “You know how much I love books.”

“You and me both,” she said, laughing as she glanced around. “I guess that’s pretty clear.”

I did a slow turn and gazed at the four walls, which were covered with nothing but full bookshelves. The occasional window interrupted the shelves, and, of course, there were necessary pieces of furniture planted here and there: an elegant dresser; a small but comfortable love seat that faced two matching chairs at one end of the long room; the bed, with its ornate, paneled headboard filled with—you guessed it—books. Other than those spots, bookshelves filled every inch of wall space. Even the dresser held a row of books.

“I had no idea you had so many,” I said.

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I can’t seem to quit collecting.”

Duh,
I thought to myself as I continued to survey the room. I knew Grace was a book lover. That was how we’d met. About a year ago, Grace had mentioned to Suzie that she wanted some of her favorite books rebound, so Suzie had recommended me. Since then, Grace and I had done business several times. I’d visited her home once before and we’d had afternoon tea in her grand salon.

I liked her. She was down-to-earth and fun. Except for this massive home perched on the shores of Lake Tahoe, you’d never know the woman was a self-made billionaire who had earned her fortune in the fast-paced computer games industry. Her personality was the oddest blend of laid-back sixties cool, nerdy earnestness, and
old-world elegance. Her quirky sensibilities—such as putting a suit of armor in the bathroom or serving bite-sized Twinkies next to the cucumber sandwiches at afternoon tea—made me smile.

Plus, she’d given me quite a bit of business lately. I liked that about her, too.

Vinnie had once referred to Grace as a hoarder, but I’d recently dealt with a true hoarder. I didn’t get the same uncomfortable feeling from Grace’s house as I had from that person’s. Grace was eccentric and a rabid collector, but a hoarder? I didn’t think so, although someone walking through this room might want to argue that.

When Grace called to invite me to her birthday party, she’d asked if I wouldn’t mind doing some work while I was here. I had immediately agreed and had packed my travel set of tools and repair supplies. I was always happier when I was busy with books. Grace not only wanted some repairs made but she also requested that I oversee the archivist she’d hired to catalog her extensive library.

Glancing around now, I realized what a huge job it would be. Heck, it would take more than a week to catalog this one bedroom alone. The archivist and I had our work cut out for us.

Grace was watching me, so I smiled and gave the walls one more glance. “Thank you so much. I know I’ll enjoy my time here.”

She seemed pleased as she nudged her glasses higher on her nose. “The library is at the end of this hall, so you can come and go without disturbing anyone else in the house. That’s another reason I thought this room would be perfect for you.”

I smiled, determined to ease her mind. “It couldn’t be better. You know me. Can’t get enough books, right?”

She laughed. It was a sweet trill, completely incongruous with her geeky personality, but charming. “I’ll let you get settled, and I’ll tell you what I’ve told everyone else: I want you to feel free to explore the whole house. I know you’ve been here before, but you’ve hardly seen any of the rooms. There are many surprises.”

“I can’t wait. I’ve heard about some of them,” I said with amusement. Vinnie had already given me a hint of some of the more bizarre features of this gigantic fun house.

“Oh, good.” She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I would start with the conservatory. I have a nice collection of exotic flora and it’s such a soothing, pretty space. But when you get tired of all that peace and quiet, the game room is not to be missed.”

“That’s what Suzie said.”

“And the music room is pretty special if you’re into musical instruments. We have a three-hundred-year-old harpsichord that still sounds beautiful. And we can supply a complete wind and brass section for anyone who’s in the mood to jam. Or you can just have a seat and watch things happen. I’ve rigged some puppets to play saxophone and guitar. It’s totally awesome.”

I laughed as she morphed into an excited young gamer. “It sounds fascinating, Grace. I can’t wait to do some exploring.”

“It’s an adventure for sure.” She took a breath and seemed to remember she was a grown-up. Then she patted my hand and held it as we strolled to the door. “Now, don’t forget, we’re meeting for cocktails at five o’clock in the gold salon. That’s up the stairs to the left and halfway down the hall. It’s on the north side of the house, overlooking the lake. I can’t wait for all my favorite people to meet and mingle.”

“I’ll be there,” I assured her as we waved good-bye to each other. I stood at the doorway and watched her walk down the wide, wood-paneled hall and turn a corner. She didn’t know me very well, but suffice it to say I wouldn’t miss a cocktail party for the world. I decided I would scout out the gold salon on my tour that afternoon. I didn’t want to be late for cocktails. That would be rude.

Twenty minutes later, my suitcase was emptied and stowed in a corner of the walk-in closet. I had hung up my dressy clothes and folded everything else and put
them in the dresser drawers. All my toiletries were arranged along the counter in my private bathroom and I’d placed the books I’d brought with me on the table next to the love seat under the bay window. As it turned out, bringing a few books along wasn’t quite as necessary as I’d thought it would be when I’d packed them. But how was I to know Grace Crawford owned every book ever written?

“Are you all settled?”

I glanced up and saw my friend Vinnie standing in the doorway. Suzie stood behind her wearing a happy grin as her gaze swept my odd, book-filled room. “Wow.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Holy shawarma, Brooklyn,” Vinnie whispered, her voice tight with alarm as her eyes goggled in shock. Abruptly, she whipped around and wagged her finger at Suzie. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. I’m certain there are no other rooms to give you, so Suzie, you must apologize to Brooklyn for your aunt’s crazitude.”

“I’m not sure that’s a word, babe,” Suzie said.

“It should be,” Vinnie said darkly. “It describes her perfectly.”

“I think this is cool,” Suzie said, walking into my room and looking around. “Besides, Brooklyn knows Aunt Grace is a book nut. And she’s been here before.”

“But I never saw this room,” I muttered, then chuckled. “If Derek were here, he’d laugh his ass off. Me, entrapped by books. Obviously, my book-lover karma has come back to bite me on the butt.”

“Wow, two butt references in less than ten seconds.” Suzie studied me. “You must miss him a lot.”

“Derek does have a very attractive bottom,” Vinnie allowed, her tone indicating she took the subject of Derek’s bum seriously. I appreciated that since I did, too.

“I do miss him,” I said. “But I’m happy to be with you guys. And Derek’s very happy that I decided to come out here for the week. He figures there’s a lot less chance of my getting into trouble if I’m with you two.”

“Not that I believe there will be any trouble,” Vinnie
said, rapping her knuckles against the smooth wood top of the dresser. “But I’ll knock wood just in case.”

“Good thinking,” I said, touching the wood frame of the bathroom door. I could use all the good-luck rituals and charms I could get.

It had been only a few months since I’d found myself at the mercy of someone who wanted to kill me. And that hadn’t been the first time it had happened. I’d tried to make light of it, but the jokes were losing steam. The fact was, I had an alarming tendency to find dead people, followed by an ineffable need to carry out justice on their behalf. Invariably, I would end up in a face-to-face confrontation with the dead person’s killer.

It had gotten so bad that I’d finally sought spiritual guidance from Guru Bob, otherwise known as Avatar Robson Benedict, the leader of my parents’ commune and an all-around awesome guy. But it had been eight long weeks since I’d had any further run-ins with dead people, so I was hoping all that was behind me.

“For the love of Shiva, there are books on the ceiling.” Vinnie stared up in horror, then glared at Suzie. “How can we be sure that Brooklyn won’t be smothered in her sleep? You must do something, Suzie.”

“I’m fine,” I said with a casual air. “It’s just a bunch of books up there.”

But Vinnie was starting to freak me out. Grace had indeed managed to hang bookshelves from the ceiling. It was odd and unique and beautiful, really, the way the narrow shelving fanned out from the central chandelier. Although you couldn’t really call it shelving; these were more like attractively paneled, triangle-shaped lobster traps. Book traps, I suppose you could call them, since there were books inside each of them. The traps were made from different shades of wood and they overlapped and spanned out to the corners of the room in a pretty swirling pattern. Like an elaborate spiderweb, I realized.

While unpacking, I had discovered the intricate rope-and-pulley system Grace had rigged to manipulate the
movements of her ceiling contraption. I knew she was a computer wizard and an engineering genius, so maybe she’d thrown this creation together on a spare Saturday, but I’d never seen anything like it. The thin ropes snaked down one wall, where they could be loosened to move each book trap up and down for access to the books inside.

On a positive note, the ceiling was at least twelve feet high, so I wasn’t likely to suffer claustrophobia from the thought of all those traps enclosing me in their web.

I tried to ignore the shiver that skittered across my shoulders at that possibility.

“Okay, that’s pretty freaking weird,” Suzie admitted, staring up at the odd sight. “But you have to admire her ingenuity.”

“Ingenuity.” Vinnie rolled her eyes at her partner. “Your aunt is crazier than a wagonful of monkeys, but your unconditional love for her is admirable, I suppose.”

Suzie shoved her hands into her pants pockets. “My unconditional love for you knows no bounds, sugar.”

“Oh.” Vinnie slapped her hand over her mouth, overcome with emotion. She flung her arms around Suzie and squeezed. “I love you, too, Suzie. Even if your aunt is a wack-a-doodle.”

Suzie winked at me over Vinnie’s shoulder, and I smiled at the clever way she’d wrapped up that conversation. But their easy affection made me think of Derek again and I was surprised at the depth of my own longing. I missed him more than I’d ever thought I would and wished he were here with me. But that was impossible. He’d left a week ago to begin a monthlong security assignment in Europe, where he was posing as the fiancé of some megabucks socialite who’d been receiving death threats.