The Book Stops Here (25 page)

We reached the sidewalk and I spied Derek’s black Bentley a few parking spots down the hill. I gave Ian a quick hug. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t forget lunch.”

“I’ve already made reservations for eleven thirty.”

I turned. “Oh, but I’m buying.”

He chuckled. “I’m happy to let you buy. I just called ahead to make sure we get the best table in the house.”

“Wonderful.” It was good to have friends in high places.

•   •   •

“A
nd we’re clear!” Angie pressed her fingers to her earpiece to listen for a moment, then announced loudly, “We’ll shoot the next segment on the kitchen stage in fifteen minutes, people. Fifteen minutes!”

I had finished the research for my next book segment earlier, so Derek and I could remain onstage to watch some of the other experts on camera. It was a nice change from being cooped up in my dressing room.

A flurry of excited voices rose behind us. Tish was walking into the studio, and even though she looked wiped out and had a bandage taped across her temple, I felt a flood of relief at seeing her.

She leaned heavily on Kenny’s arm as she greeted her close friends, but then left them all and approached me.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I had to give your coat to the police. They thought they might be able to retrieve a fingerprint from the leather strap around the neck or one of the buttons.”

“I hope they can,” I said, and gave her a light hug. “But please don’t worry about the coat. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m getting there.”

I glanced around, then leaned closer. “Did you get a look at the person who attacked you?”

“I didn’t. The police asked me all kinds of questions, but I was no help at all.”

“Did you hear anything? Footsteps or breathing or a car taking off or . . . anything?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “I thought I heard someone coughing, but that could’ve been the guard.”

“I know I’m being a nudge, but did you smell anything unusual? Perfume or garlic or something?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. I did. I smelled cigarette smoke. I remember thinking it was weird because I don’t know anyone who smokes anymore.”

“See? You know more than you thought you did.”

“Wow, you’re good, Brooklyn. You should be a cop.”

I almost laughed out loud, imagining what Inspector Lee would say to that.

Tish and Kenny wandered over to the gaffer’s podium and I turned to Derek. “It was Grizzly—I know it was. I saw him smoking a cigarette out on the steps of the Hall of Justice.”

“A lot of people smoke, darling,” Derek said, playing devil’s advocate, no doubt.

“Yes, but not a lot of smokers go looking for someone in a red raincoat so they can knock her unconscious.” Angry all over again at the picture of that big creep attacking Tish, I bared my teeth. “I can’t wait to see that slug behind bars with his creepy brother.”

“Nor can I.”

“I’m sick of just waiting around for him to attack again.” Saying the words aloud jogged my memory, reminding me of my idea of luring Lug Nut out into the open using myself as bait. I could still carry out the plan with Grizzly.

Derek was studying my expression and his own turned icy. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?”

“Using yourself as bait.”

I blinked, astonished and annoyed that he could guess my thoughts so accurately. “Why would you think I would ever do that?”

“Because I know you too well.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “And sometimes you scare me to death.”

•   •   •

A
n hour later, I left my dressing room, carrying the next book I would be appraising. It was a Geneva Bible from 1583, and it was huge. Over fifteen inches tall and ten inches wide, it was five inches thick and the heaviest book I’d ever appraised. I was hoping the book’s owner and the show’s producers would enjoy this segment as much as I planned to.

I’d been told by the producers that the show didn’t usually appraise family Bibles because they didn’t have much commercial value. In the late eighteen hundreds they were being mass-produced and many families had been able to buy one. In general, they were well made with good-quality paper and leather and often remained in the family for generations. But other than their sentimental value, they weren’t worth a lot.

This Geneva Bible was different. I knew there were books similar to this one out there, but I’d personally never seen anything like it before. It gave me a thrill just to hold it in my hands.

I stopped in the hall when I realized I hadn’t checked the condition of the interior back hinges. I’d spent time examining only the front hinges because the front of the book was so striking, with its decorative gilding and ancient brass workings.

I couldn’t go out onstage without completing the work, so I glanced around for a place to set down the book and check it out. It had to weigh at least ten pounds and was growing heavier by the second, so when I noticed Randy’s dressing room door was ajar, I quickly knocked and walked in. He wasn’t there, so I placed the book on the dressing table, where the light was strongest.

The door slammed shut.

It must’ve been a gust of wind in the hallway,
I thought, and ignored it. I turned the book over. The back cover was in need of a decent polishing but the hinge and brass works were in fine condition. This entire book was beyond fabulous. I was pretty sure it would win the prize for the highest book appraisal of any of the San Francisco shows.

But after dealing with a few people who couldn’t quite handle the fact that they had an expensive book on their hands, I was a little concerned that the owner . . .

I heard an odd rattling sound and glanced around. I didn’t see anything, so I went back to the book. The back endpapers were in better condition than the front ones, which was typical, since people tended to expose the front papers more often than the back.

I picked up the heavy Bible and adjusted it in my arms, then reached for the doorknob. It wouldn’t budge. “What the heck?”

The rattling sound echoed through the room. I turned again but didn’t see anything.

Suddenly a deadly-looking snake slithered out from under the sofa and headed straight toward me.

I froze in complete horror and screamed louder than I’d ever screamed in my life. I pressed up closer to the door, but there was nowhere to go.

The thing had to be five feet long!

Scared to death, I shook the doorknob but couldn’t open it to save my life. Literally.

“Help!” I screamed over and over as I banged my hand against the door. “Somebody help me!”

The snake moved closer. It was only a few feet away now. If I stood very still, would it ignore me and go away? I kind of doubted it.

Its head wafted up off the floor and I screamed. “Get away from me!”

That’s when its tail began to shake again, making the dreadful rattling sound I’d just heard.

Desperate, I realized I had only one weapon: the Bible. With both hands, I slammed it down on the head of the snake and heard a squishing sound. I knew I’d crushed it or at least made serious contact.

Tremors overtook my body, rushing up and down my spine and arms and legs. I was still screaming and collapsed back against the door. At that moment, someone yanked it open and I fell backward into the hall.

“What were you doing in there?” Randy demanded.

I scrambled and grabbed hold of him and held on for dear life.

“What’s wrong with you?” But he wrapped his arms around me and patted my back. “You’re shivering. What happened?”

“Oh, God.” I gasped for breath. “Oh, God. Thank you.”

“Brooklyn, are you all right?”

“Derek. Oh, Derek.” I spun around and threw myself into his arms. He clutched me tightly.

“What is it, love? What happened?”

“Snake.” The word came out like a breath of air.

“What?”

“Snake.”

“A snake?” Randy said loudly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Snake.” I pointed at the doorway. “Dressing room. Dead.”

“Christ almighty,” Derek said, and turned on Randy. “What the hell were you thinking, bringing a snake in here?”

“Me?” he shouted. “No! I didn’t do anything!”

“How did a snake get into your room?”

“How the hell should I know? I was out onstage when I got a text from Walter telling me to meet him here. I get here and find Brooklyn in there with the door closed.”

“I couldn’t get the door open.” I could hear myself whimpering, but I didn’t care. I clutched Derek’s arms for dear life.

He continued to hold me close with one arm and pushed the door open wider with the other.

“Looks like a rattler,” Randy said, and whistled. “Holy mother.”

The Bible lay splayed on the floor on top of the creature. The back cover was hanging loosely off its hinges. I felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to keep me awake at night. The value of the book might have been momentarily diminished, but at least the snake was dead.

•   •   •

T
he snake survived.

Bloodied and bruised, it nonetheless began to wiggle while we were standing there staring at it. I screamed and Randy jumped three feet backward, then ran out to the stage. Derek pulled me out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Seconds later, Bruce came racing down the hall and took over. He managed to wrangle the injured reptile using a lighting pole and one of the pretty covered baskets they used as set decoration on the kitchen stage.

It turned out that Bruce was a certified exotic animal trainer, a prerequisite to working on an Animal Network show a few years back.

Obviously, Randolph had been the intended victim of the snake. It was just my luck to wander into his room. Derek cornered Walter and asked him if he’d sent the text to Randy. He denied it and then couldn’t find his phone. Someone—Randy’s stalker, no doubt—had taken it. One of the prop guys found it a while later, tucked behind one of the boxes of doughnuts on the catering table.

I was shaken and still breathing heavily, but I needed to tape my segment. Derek suggested that I ask to postpone it, but I
wanted to get it over with. And I was pretty sure it would take my mind off killer snakes and broken Bibles.

Derek picked up the heavy Bible and took care of wiping the bits of snake blood and guts off the book. I couldn’t watch. I was too busy wondering what excuse I would give the book’s owner for breaking and bloodying a holy book that had managed to survive in this world for almost five hundred years—until the moment I got hold of it.

•   •   •

“H
ow did you come to own this Bible, Jack?” I asked casually. Nobody would ever know I’d just been threatened by a rattlesnake.

“I recently inherited it from my grandfather, who was a biblical scholar. It’s my understanding that he never had it appraised because he thought that would be blasphemous.”

“Rendering unto Caesar?” I said, trying for a bit of levity.

He grinned. “Exactly. Grandfather was not known for breaking the rules.”

I slipped into appraiser mode to describe the woodcuts on the title page and in the text throughout the book, many of which were printed in red ink. It was a quarto edition, which meant that the pages were sewn together four at a time. Without moving the book too much and giving away the fact that the back cover was hanging by one hinge, I pointed out that the dark brown leather cover was framed and paneled in heavy gilt with raised bands on the spine and gilded lettering.

“The most unusual aspect of the cover, and typical of Bibles of that age,” I said, “are these brass corner protectors. The hinges of the book are brass, too. The engravings on this brass clasp and closure are spectacular. And they still work.”

“I’ve tried to keep my kids from playing with the clasp,” Jack said. “I’d like it to last another five hundred years, if possible.”

“That would be nice.” I smiled and added, “There are very few cracks in the leather. He really kept it in great condition.”

“He loved that book,” Jack said with a sad smile. “I’m not very religious myself, but I could tell it was worth a little something.”

“Oh, it is,” I said enigmatically. “The paper is thick and bright, with hardly any tearing. There’s a bit of foxing, but that’s to be expected. It’s still easy to read.”

“I can’t believe something that old is printed in English,” he said. “I figured it would be old German or something.”

“It was the first English Bible printed after the Reformation,” I explained. “The reason it’s called a Geneva Bible is because it was first printed in Geneva, Switzerland. It was meant to be affordable so that a family could purchase it and study it together.” I lifted the book carefully and opened it to a representative page. “As you can see, there are margin notes, which were meant to aid in the study of the Scriptures.”

“Wow.”

“So all of that means that it’s a very important book historically. And visually, as well. You can see that it’s exceptional.”

“I can see that it’s huge,” Jack said with a grin.

“And very heavy.”
Thank goodness,
I added silently. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to almost kill a freaking five-foot-long rattlesnake with it. “By the way, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jack, but the back cover has come loose from its hinges. It’s a simple fix and I’ll be happy to take care of it for you after the program.”

“Really? That’s great. I didn’t know you did that here.”

“This is a special case, and there’s no charge,” I added with a bright smile.
Because I’m the one who smashed it against the head of the snake and damaged it all to hell
. No guilt there.

“Well, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Thanks for bringing it in today. It’s
an exceptional book and easily worth my appraisal price of forty-eight thousand dollars.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “W-what?”

“Forty-eight thousand—”

“D-dollars? Holy moly.” He tried to swallow a few times but couldn’t, and he looked like he was struggling for air. A stagehand rushed over with his own cup of water and handed it to Jack, who gulped it down. He wheezed a few times and coughed.