The Lies That Bind (26 page)

“I’m sorry you had to leave your book back there,” Derek said as we walked past the Brooks Brothers window, which featured a men’s tan suit next to a pale pink crisp cotton dress. The dress was asexual and impossibly conservative, with short sleeves, a tucked bib front and a bow tie at the neck. Seriously, that was a bib. Who in the world would wear it? I had to force myself to look away.

“No, you were right,” I said finally. “We had to get out of there before the police showed up. But they’ll find the book and use it as evidence to nail these guys.”

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Yes, they will.”

“I’m sorry I went a little crazy,” I said, remembering my tantrum as we waited for the signal to change at Post and Grant. “I saw that man lying there and my brain exploded. One too many dead bodies, I guess.”

“I’m surprised you’ve held on this long,” he said, resting his cheek on my hand. “I know it’s been traumatic for you.”

“It’s getting more and more weird,” I admitted. “But that’s still no excuse to go off like I did.”

“Darling, you’re a strong woman, but you mustn’t be so hard on yourself.” He wrapped his arm around me and we crossed the street.

A sea of emotion swirled through me at his kind words. I wasn’t sure I deserved them, but they touched me in ways I couldn’t begin to describe. Maybe later, when I was alone, I would think back and wonder if this might be the most perfect moment of my life.

And how sad was it that such perfect moments were now defined by dead bodies?

A half block later we turned onto Maiden Lane, and I stopped to stare at a twelve-thousand-dollar cameo in the window of Gump’s. The ivory carving of the woman’s face was flawless, precise and elegant. It was mounted on a piece of amber so dark and rich it appeared midnight blue. Tiny diamonds encased in platinum circled the ivory and crisscrossed into a bow beneath the woman’s face.

“I wonder who called the police?” I mused, tearing my gaze away from the cameo.

“Somebody was watching that building,” Derek said matter-of-factly.

I looked up at him. “Maybe it was just another tenant who heard those two guys screaming and called nine-one-one.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t the sort of place where people would willingly invite the police in.”

“True.”

“And the timing was much too coincidental.”

I turned to face him. “So you really think someone saw us go in there and called the cops?”

He shrugged.

“That’s downright creepy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Uneasy, I glanced around, then shivered. Was somebody watching us right now? I didn’t want to believe it. Maybe someone, namely the killer, had been watching Mr. Soo’s place to see who might show up. That made some sense. But to be watching Derek and me? Following us around? Why?

I shivered at the thought that Ned might be watching us from somewhere around here. But that was ridiculous. Ned never left BABA. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had watched us go into that building.

“Those two men who came into Soo’s office didn’t sound like upstanding citizens, did they?”

“No,” Derek said, and left it at that.

We walked another half block along Maiden Lane and stopped to look at the display of yummy foods in the window of a tiny Italian cafeteria-style bistro. It looked a lot prettier than that amazing cameo. I was hungry before in Chinatown. Now I was ravenous.

Derek, bless his heart, ushered me into the cozy restaurant, where we chose a salad and sandwich to split. I decided to have a glass of wine, too. I deserved it. Derek chose a small bottle of San Pelligrino.

“What business would you say Mr. Soo was in?” I asked, once we were seated.

“My guess is book fraud.”

“That’s what I was thinking. That place was a veritable book repository.”

“Yes, it was,” he said, tearing at the loaf of thick Italian bread and dipping it in rich olive oil. “I would guess he bought and sold, but mostly brokered the deals. Books, engravings, other related artwork.”

“At least he was a good reader,” I reflected, as I took a bite of the thick, buttery prosciutto and cheese sandwich.

“Not anymore,” he said.

Derek dropped me off early at BABA and promised to come by later to pick me up. Did I dare to dream that tonight would be the night? I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

The first thing I saw when I walked inside was Alice and Naomi, whispering heatedly by the guillotine in the lower gallery.

The good news was, at least they were speaking.

When Alice saw me, she waved me over. “Brooklyn, you won’t believe what happened to Gunther.”

I glanced around warily. Because the Twisted festival was in full swing, visitors were walking through the gallery, checking out the cool displays and perusing the bookshelves.

“Why don’t we go to Naomi’s office to continue this conversation?” I said, sounding so annoyingly mature I wanted to cringe.

“Fine,” Naomi said, and flounced off in that direction.

Once we were behind closed doors, Alice’s emotions were let loose. “He’s been arrested. Can you believe it?”

“Oh, my goodness,” I said. “Really?”

“Yes. Isn’t it awful?”

Naomi groaned. “Alice, don’t be naive. Brooklyn’s acting like she doesn’t know, but she does. Her boyfriend is Gunther’s keeper.”

Wait a minute. Even Naomi could tell I was lying? That was so unfair.

“Naomi, shut up,” I said lamely.

Alice wasn’t paying attention to either of us. “I’ve had to cancel Gunther’s lithography class, but the auction is this coming weekend. He’s our biggest name. People will expect him to be there. What will we do without him? How will we make any money on the auction?”

“Stop whining,” Naomi said.

But Alice continued her rant. “What’ll we do? We can’t cancel it now. All those people. And the food. The caterers will . . . oh, God, the caterers.” She stopped and tried to catch her breath, but she couldn’t. She began to wheeze uncontrollably.

“Alice, you’re hyperventilating,” I said, alarmed. “Naomi, do you have a paper bag or something she can breathe into?”

“Why would I have a paper bag? Just . . . make her stop.”

Alice’s wheezing was louder and more frantic. Her eyes were wide with panic. Just as I thought she might pass out, Naomi stepped in front of her and slapped her across the face.

“There,” Naomi said, wiping her hands together. “Maybe that’ll chill her out.”

“Jeez, Naomi, have a little compassion,” I said.

But Alice’s breathing immediately began to slow down. She took a few controlled gulps, then nodded to indicate she was okay. She sank down on the nearest chair and flopped over to put her head between her legs.

Naomi and I exchanged a look. Alice was absurdly fragile. Everything set her off. Would she make it in this job? I had my doubts. Especially if she had to work with Naomi every day.

After a few minutes of stiff silence, Alice finally lifted her head, slowly drawing in air and exhaling. “Okay. Okay, I’m better. Sorry. I kind of flipped out there.”

“Kind of?” Naomi said, her tone indicating just how appalled she was. Maybe she was a little more like Layla than we’d all thought. But honestly, right now I couldn’t blame her. Poor Alice was a basket case.

“Look,” Naomi said. “I’ve just put myself in charge of the Saturday-night gala and auction. You can’t handle it. I don’t want the paramedics running in here in the middle of everything because you’re having a freaking heart attack over a broken fingernail, for God’s sake.”

Alice waved her hand weakly. “Fine. You handle it. I’ll watch this time, then maybe take on the next event.”

“Yeah, sure,” Naomi said with a sneer. “I’ll handle everything like I always do.”

I checked my watch. “Listen, I’ve got a class to teach,” I said. I didn’t want to get in the middle of another fight if these two took off on each other again.

“Yeah, whatever,” Naomi said, and walked out of the office muttering, “Freaks. I’m surrounded by freaks.”

Concerned, I looked back at Alice. She raised her head slowly and gazed up at me, a satisfied smile on her face.

Realization dawned slowly. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting her to smack me like that.” But then she shrugged contentedly. “It makes her happy if she thinks she’s in charge. I’ll watch to make sure she doesn’t get too drunk with power and start thinking she owns the place. But things should run a little smoother from here on out, don’t you think?”

During the dinner break, I decided I needed a little touch of down-home comfort, so I called my mother to see how Gabriel was doing. He’d been at her place since he’d left the hospital.

“He’s still having nightmares,” she said. “I’m worried.”

“Does he know what they’re about?”

“He won’t talk about it. He sleeps a lot. I’ve made a healing charm bracelet and he wears it all the time. And I’m trying out a few spells on him. I just can’t remember if I do the banishment spell during the full moon or the waxing moon.”

“Mom, you’re kind of new at this Wicca business. Don’t go changing him into a black cat or something.”

“Silly, Gabriel wouldn’t change into a black cat.”

“Good.”

“No, he would much more likely turn into a raven.”

Oh, boy.

“Anyway,” she continued, “your father has been keeping him company, discussing wine and world events and such. And Annie and I are playing nursemaids, so he seems pretty happy about that.”

“I would think so,” I said wryly, then told her I’d try to get up there the next weekend to visit him.

“He’ll be so happy to hear that, sweetie. He’s a darling man, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” I said, laughing. “But, Mom, be sure to count the silverware before he leaves.”

 

What with Layla’s death and funeral, my students had lost out on several hours of class time, so during Thursday night’s class, I gave them the option of a makeup class on Friday night. It was a sad statement on my personal life that I was available on a Friday night, but at least I wouldn’t be alone. All my students were available, too.

After I once again demonstrated the process of centering the boards and spine stiffener on the cloth covers, and gluing the endbands in place, the students progressed to within several steps of completing the traditional journals they’d started earlier in the week.

As promised, Derek picked me up after class and we drove to my place. I had a bottle of champagne waiting in my refrigerator and I could picture us cozied up on my couch, sipping the bubbly and nibbling on warm brie and toast.

He parked his car in the visitors’ space in my garage. We took the elevator up to my floor and slid open the heavy metal gate. Hand in hand, we walked to my door. I was nearly vibrating with anticipation.

“Yoo-hoo, Brooklyn?” Vinnie called from her doorway around the corner from mine.

I moaned out loud.

Derek’s voice was low and husky. “Don’t answer. She’ll go away.”

The temptation was irresistible, but not very neighborly. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Wincing, I called out, “Hi, Vinnie. What’s up?”

Her light footsteps pattered down the wide hall.

“We have—oh, hello, Derek,” Vinnie said, smiling brightly. “How nice to see you again.” Derek had met my neighbors a month or so ago after that vicious killer tried to gun me down inside my home.

“Hello, Vinnie,” he said cordially. “How are you?”

“I’m quite well. Isn’t this a nice surprise?”

As she ran back to her apartment, I unlocked my door and pushed it open.

“Suzie,” Vinnie cried. “Brooklyn is at home and Derek—Remember Derek? He is with her. Come quickly and say hello. Bring the wine bottle.”

“Oh, dear God,” I whispered, then laughed as Derek pounded his head against the wall. I walked inside. He followed close behind me and grabbed me at the waist, turned me around and kissed me. I sank my fingers into his hair as my knees grew weak.

Derek’s breath came in ragged gasps as he broke away from the kiss just as Suzie’s steel-toed boots clomped against the hardwood floor outside my door.

Suzie walked in. “Hey, Brooklyn, hey, Derek.”

“Suzie,” he said cordially, and gave her a hug. “You look as lovely as ever.”

How he could sound so cool and debonair after a scorching kiss that had left me shaking was a mystery for the ages?

“Uh, yo, looking good,” Suzie said, flustered and blushing from Derek’s hug. Even a steel-toed lesbian was no match for his charms.

“Come on in,” I said, waving them into the living room. “Make yourselves at home while I put my tools away in the office.”

“You sure?” Suzie asked. “You guys rushing off somewhere or can we hang for a while?”