The Book Stops Here (32 page)

I pulled her off to the side—or tried to. She balked and refused
to pick up her feet and walk with me, but I pulled her by the shirt and her shoes slid easily across the polished studio floor with me. “Tell me what’s going on, Angie. Maybe I can help.”

“Just leave it alone, Brooklyn.”

“Nope.” I shook my head stubbornly. “We might not ever see each other again after this week, but right now I consider you a friend and I’m not going to let you suffer alone.”

“I’m in love with him,” she wailed.

“I’m sorry.” I rubbed my ears. “What did you say?”

“Don’t make me repeat it. It’s too humiliating.”

“Okay, you don’t have to. I heard you.” I shook her arm lightly. “But that’s not humiliating—it’s wonderful. Oh, wait. Does Randy know? Is he interested?” I gasped. “Wait. Did he hurt you? That bastard.”

“Shush,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl now. “He knows. He loves me, too. He wants to live together.”

“That’s so cool. Aww.”

“Oh, God. You’re as bad as Tish.”

“Why? I’m happy for you.”

She buried her face in her hands. “But I’m stuck in San Francisco and he travels with the show.” She looked up and her eyes widened. “Or else he’s dead in the hospital. Who knows? I can’t talk to him!”

“He’s not dead,” I said with a certainty I had no right to feel.

“Okay, we’ll go with that theory for now.” She gnawed on a fingernail. “So he’s alive, but he’s leaving town next week and I’ll never see him again.”

“So leave with him. Join the show. You’ve got to be the best stage manager they’ve ever had.”

“I’m damn good, and it would be nice to have a permanent job.” She let out a wistful sigh. “Usually a show moves in here for a few months, you meet people, become friends, and then they’re gone and you never see them again. I hate that.”

“If you stayed with the show, you’d be able to see Randolph and all the other people you’ve become friends with.”

“But I live here. You don’t understand—I was born and raised here. My mom is here. My friends.”

“So in between shows, you come back here and live.”

“But he lives in Minneapolis.”

I gave her a look. “If he turns down San Francisco in favor of Minneapolis, you might want to rethink your opinion of him.”

She groaned. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s got this real Midwestern sensibility. It’s charming and all, but a little weird.”

“You’re just making up excuses. I’ve been to Minneapolis and it’s filled with smart people. They like to read.”

“Because it’s always snowing,” she muttered.

I laughed. “You could live there half the time and here the rest of the time. Or what the hell? Move to Minneapolis. It’s really pretty.”

“Hello? It snows,” she reminded me.

“Snow is exciting,” I said. “What do you care? You want to be with him, right?”

She stared at the floor. “What if he’s dead?”

“Oh, God, she’s hopeless,” I muttered. “We’re finished talking.”

“No! I thought we were friends.”

I walked away, chuckling.

•   •   •

G
erald Kingsley sauntered onto the set and all conversation faded.

He smiled at everyone he passed and waved to the few people he recognized. He shook hands and introduced himself to others. He was friendly and warm and acted like a politician returning to his hometown. Not in a bad way, really. I just wasn’t overly thrilled to see him under the circumstances. I was on Team Randy.

Tom came out to the center of the stage and introduced the crew and staff to Gerald. “I want you all to make him feel welcome, because he’s doing us a big favor, helping us out while Randolph recovers in the hospital.”

I waited until some of the crowd dispersed before walking over to introduce myself.

“Hello, Brooklyn,” he said, his voice clear and pleasant. “I’ve heard you’re doing great work.”

“Thanks. You know, you look so familiar to me,” I said, studying his face.

“I’m hearing that a lot today,” he said, chuckling. “Did you ever watch the show before?”

“All the time,” I said, and laughed. “That’s why you look familiar. You must get people telling you that a lot.”

He chuckled again. “Happens all the time.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up. That was how I knew I was acting like an idiot. “I’m sorry. Anyway, welcome back.”

A few minutes later, Angie called for quiet on the set, and they began to tape the expert collector segments. Gerald had done his homework and the questions were thoughtful and entertaining.

Edward was the third one to speak and he was so charming, he won everyone’s hearts. Even the toughened crew members were laughing at his recollections.

He had brought a few items from his vast array of vintage Mae West memorabilia, including one of her fashionable hats. He told stories about the movie stars he’d met and which of them had contributed their own personal items to his collection.

“I must tell you one last thing about the most fascinating book I saw yesterday,” Edward said. “It was
The Secret Garden
, a children’s book that was recently featured on this very show. Your book appraiser wanted to verify that Mae West’s signature was indeed on the book. And I was able to confirm that yes, the book once belonged to Mae. It was a sweet moment, and very special
for me. I won’t be surprised if your appraisal price goes up a few more dollars after this.”

Edward winked at me again and I smiled. Feeling both gratified and self-conscious, I glanced around the set to see if anyone had noticed. And saw Minka snarling at me from twenty feet away. My smile grew even brighter.

“We’re clear,” Angie yelled.

“Simply wonderful,” Tom said as he rushed forward to shake Edward’s hand and congratulate him for an excellent segment.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. It was awfully fun. I hope I didn’t jibber and jabber too much.”

“You were fabulous,” Gerald said, standing and shifting into a more relaxed stance.

“So were you,” Edward said in a loud whisper. “Thank you for your insightful questions.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Edward looked around and laughed. “I don’t want to leave. I’ve had such a jolly time. Perhaps we can extend the good feelings.” He raised his voice to get the attention of the crowd. “I’d like to invite you all to a party at my home this Saturday night.”

Excited murmurs rose and spread and the crew moved closer to the stage.

“Let me explain,” Edward continued, his voice growing thready from shouting to be heard throughout the studio. “There will be many important people attending. You know the type. Movers and shakers, power brokers looking to make connections and raise money for their various causes. It can be such a bore!”

When the laughter died down, he continued. “I want to make sure I have a good time at my own party, so I’d like lots of fun people there. I hope you’ll all come.”

The entire group burst into cheers and applause.

“I’ll put a stack of invitations on the table near the coffeepot, so make sure you all get one. The directions are a bit tricky, but you all look smart enough to find your way.”

That garnered more chuckles and applause, and when Edward stepped off the stage, he was surrounded by grateful staff and crew members.

“A generous man,” Derek murmured in my ear. I hadn’t noticed him approach.

“He really is,” I said, smiling fondly at Edward before turning to Derek. “I know he’s eccentric, but I can’t resist his charm.”

“It should be an interesting party.”

“Yes,” I said. We wandered over to the side, away from the crowd. “I didn’t see you in the studio. Were you able to watch his segment?”

Derek nodded. “Very entertaining.”

“I thought so. And Gerald did a good job.” I glanced around to see if Gerald was still in sight. “And why not, since he . . . oh, crap.”

“What is it?” He turned and saw what I was seeing. “Oh no. That’s hard to watch.”

And yet, we couldn’t stop.

Minka had made her way through the crowd to shake Edward’s hand. For some unfathomable reason, Edward seemed taken by her, and instead of shaking her hand, he kissed it. The crowd thinned out, but the two of them remained together. It seemed that they had eyes only for each other.

Edward was inches away from her now, speaking intimately into her ear and studying her expression as he continued to hold her hand. Minka was giggling. That couldn’t be easy on poor Edward’s ears. She sounded like a hyena.

Edward didn’t seem to mind. Maybe when one reached his age, a hyena was better than nothing.

That was rude and I was sorry I’d let myself think it. I liked Edward and I didn’t want to judge his behavior, but . . . Minka? Really? Why?

“I have to walk away,” I muttered. Derek grabbed my hand and we escaped back to the dressing room. It was a long while before we were able to speak again. We were too traumatized by what we’d just witnessed.

•   •   •

W
hen I returned to the stage to tape my next segment, I heard through the grapevine, otherwise known as Angie, that Edward had taken Minka out to dinner. They’d been seen running out of the studio, giggling and holding hands like two kids being let out of school for the summer.

My stomach did a little dip at the thought of the two of them together. I hoped I wouldn’t have to witness their lovey-dovey act again, but when it came to Minka, my wishes were rarely granted.

Angie shouted something and it reminded me that I needed to talk to her right away. I was worried there might be a little misunderstanding.

Now that I knew her true feelings for Randy, and apparently his for her, I wanted to know why he had allowed me to suspect Angie of being a potential stalker. Why hadn’t he explained that they were dating?

Maybe they had promised to keep their relationship a secret, but that was no excuse for him to put up with my accusations.

And besides that, Angie had been hired in San Francisco only a few weeks earlier than me. There was no way she could’ve put dead animals on his front porch six months before she ever met him. That had only occurred to me recently.

I would’ve liked to have discussed everything with Randy first, but he wasn’t around. So I decided to talk to Angie right after my segment was finished.

•   •   •

“T
hank you so much,” Betsy said when Angie had given us the all-clear sign. “My husband is going to be so thrilled when I tell him what that book is worth.”

“It’s a wonderful book,” I said, gazing at her first-edition collection of Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales.

“But eleven thousand dollars for an old book of fairy tales? He’s going to
plotz
!”

I chuckled. “The fairy tales are wonderful, but it’s the bindings and paper and engravings that brought the price up. I hope you continue to keep it in great condition. You might try rubbing a little tea-tree oil into your bookshelves. That should help keep the silverfish away. Don’t get the oil near the book; just rub it along the edges of the shelves.”

“Thank you, Brooklyn,” she said. “You’re so much nicer than I thought you would be.”

My smile faded. “That’s good, I guess.”

“And you appraised the book for a lot more than I was told it was worth.”

Now that my last nerve was hanging by a thread, I had to hear the rest. “Whom did you talk to about the appraisal?”

“Oh, that first girl I talked to in the hall.” She leaned closer and whispered loudly, “She said it wasn’t worth much because it was so old.”

Oh, for God’s sake.
My head was spinning. “Betsy, you do realize that around here, an old book is usually a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Betsy said, chuckling uncomfortably. “It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but she was so sincere and really seemed to know what she was talking about.”

“She doesn’t,” I muttered.

“I almost took her up on her offer, but now I’m glad I didn’t because you appraised it for so much more than she was going to give me.”

I almost swallowed my tongue but I tried to appear calm. “She offered to buy it from you? What was she going to offer?”

She quoted me Minka’s amount, almost five thousand dollars less than what the beautiful book was worth. Why was Minka offering anything? She didn’t have the money to buy these books outright. I knew she wasn’t working at the Covington, so who was backing her offers? Not that the Covington would ever consign Minka to buy books for them, but I was at a loss as to whom she was in business with these days.

The production assistant arrived to escort Betsy back to the guest hall. I wished her good luck as she strolled away.

I spotted Derek talking to Bruce at the far end of the stage. I was tempted to storm across the space like an army general so people would sense my fury and clear the path. But I couldn’t do that. Instead, I walked casually, professional and composed as I passed the friends I’d made over the past few weeks. But as I approached the two men, Bruce must’ve seen something scary in my eyes because he made a quick getaway. I figured my true feelings had sprung loose.

“You won’t believe this one,” I said to Derek. My jaw was clenched so tightly, I wondered if my skull would crack. In a low voice but with many hand gestures, I repeated everything Betsy had said. It wasn’t easy to rant quietly, but I tried.

“I’m wondering why you’re so surprised.”

“Good point.” I shook my head in dismay. “Nothing about Minka’s behavior should surprise me.”

Minka had devised a scam to rip off the guests. Betsy hadn’t realized what was happening or what she was saying, but it had been clear to me instantly.

“She’ll pay them some lowball amount and then turn around and sell the book to a legitimate buyer for twice as much money.”

“Yes,” Derek added quietly. “And there’s the not insignificant fact that she has defamed you on several occasions now.” He took
my arm and led me away from the main stage to a deserted area backstage.

“I want to catch her in the lie,” I said, thumping my fist into my palm.

“I do, too,” Derek said. “I think this calls for a covert sting operation.”

“I really like the sound of that.” I was still angry, but now I could smile. “What do you have in mind?”