The Book Stops Here (34 page)

“Why?”

“Because shopping is my least favorite job in the world.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” she said, grinning. “In fact . . .” She gave me a quick once-over from head to toe. “We’re pretty close to the same size. You can borrow something of mine. Why don’t you stop by tonight after work and try on a few things? I’d do it right now but I have a staff meeting this morning.”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable borrowing from you. What if I spilled something all over it?”

She waved her hand at me. “Oh, please. You won’t spill. And I have a thousand different outfits you can choose from.” Seeing my doubtful expression, she added, “I’m serious. My third bedroom is my closet. You’ll see.”

“The whole room?”

“Yeah. I go out a lot.”

My shoulders slumped. “I can’t believe I said I might spill something. Now I absolutely will.”

She laughed. “That’s why God created dry cleaning. Come on, it’ll be fun. More fun than shopping, right?”

That was all she needed to say to get me to agree. “Okay, I’ll stop by after work tonight.”

“See you then.” She started to close the door but stopped. “Wait, Brooklyn. I almost forgot! I made something for you.” She ran to her kitchen and picked up a large pink box tied securely with pink string. “Today’s your last day at work, right?”

“Yes. What is this?”

She smiled at my suspicious tone. “I made cupcakes for you and your work friends.”

“You did not.”

“Well, they’re actually mini cakes, so they’re small, but they’re still yummy. This box holds thirty-six. I hope that’s enough. Some people might have to share.”

I gazed at the box, then at Alex. “You are so good.”

“I like having you for a friend.” She handed the box to me.

I stared at the box again, almost embarrassed in the face of her warm generosity. “Thank you. This is so sweet. I wish there was some way I could pay you back.”

“Just come over tonight and try on dresses. We’ll have a totally girly-fun time.”

“Okay.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I like having you for a friend, too.”

•   •   •

“W
hy would Lug Nut break into Edward’s home?” Derek wondered aloud as we drove to the studio.

“Now that he’s dead, I refuse to call him Lug Nut anymore,” I said. “The name just bugs me.”

“I’m not calling him
Lawrence
,” Derek drawled.

I chuckled at his tone. “
Larry
will be sufficient. So, back to your question. Why would he try to break into such an obviously well-secured home?”

“Perhaps he’s done it before.”

I glanced at him. “You think he stole
The Secret Garden
from Edward and sold it for three dollars in a garage sale?”

“Possibly.”

“I like my old scenario better.
Grizzly
stole the book from Edward, and Larry found it and stupidly sold it in the garage sale to make a little money. When Grizzly found out, he threatened to kill Larry if he didn’t get the book back.”

“So, now what? He went to steal another book from Edward?” Derek scowled. “Seems a ridiculous plan.”

“It is,” I said. “It’s like painting the white roses red instead of planting new red roses.”

“That’s a simplistic analogy,” Derek said, shaking his head. “And yet I understood it completely.”

“That’s why you’re my guy.” As Derek flashed a smile, something more sinister occurred to me. “Do you think Grizzly followed us to Edward’s house the other day? He saw how expensive the house was and convinced Lug Nut to try to steal something. How else would he have considered breaking in to Edward’s house?”

“It’s possible.” At the stoplight, Derek added, “So, he might not have been going after a book. He might’ve been targeting something more valuable.”

“I can’t figure it out,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense. But, then, Lug Nut wasn’t too bright, was he?”

“No. Seems Grizzly got the one brain cell in that family.”

I laughed but then sobered. “I feel terrible for Edward. He’s such a gentle soul. It can’t be easy for him, knowing he killed someone in cold blood.”

“He was protecting himself and his property,” Derek reasoned. “And he has a housekeeper living there. She was in danger, too.”

“I know it was a protective instinct. But what an awful experience for the poor man, having to face down that big creep and pull the trigger.”

I shivered and he patted my thigh. Then something else occurred to me and I moaned. “Oh no. He’ll probably cancel the party. What a bummer.”

•   •   •

I
t was a minor miracle but I managed to hustle the big pink box of cupcakes to my dressing room without being stopped. My plan was to present the cupcakes to my fellow workers at just the right moment, but first I wanted to set a few aside for me and Derek. During those long research breaks, it was nice to have a little treat. Especially homemade cupcakes from Alex.

After the first few segments had been taped, Tom asked everyone who worked on the show to join him in the studio for what turned out to be a pep rally.

“I want to thank you all for helping put together the best group of shows we’ve ever produced.”

We all cheered and congratulated ourselves.

“I’m sorry Gerald had to take off this morning, because it was nice to have him on set yesterday.” He waited for the polite applause to finish. “He was a real trouper to fly out and help us. But I’m really glad to have Randy back with us.”

That brought more enthusiastic cheers. Randy was right about everybody liking him. Almost
everybody,
I added to myself. He stood and waved from where he’d been sitting on the war set. He still looked weak but happy to be acknowledged.

“Thanks to all our local staff and crew,” Tom continued. “We’re really going to miss you. If anyone’s interested in relocating, let me know.”

The locals cheered loudly.

“I’m serious; this is the best group we’ve ever worked with.” Tom glanced around, then whispered loudly, “Don’t tell the others.”

We laughed, and after Tom singled out a few of the more awesome crew members by name, including Angie, he changed topics. “You’ve probably all heard about the appraiser that was arrested yesterday.”

Minka. I prayed he would tell us that they threw the book at her.

“She’s been released from jail.”

No! I wanted to shout it out.
Noooooo! You’re making a big mistake!
But I held my tongue. It wasn’t easy.

“None of the book owners were willing to press charges,” Tom said with a shrug. “And it’s too much trouble for the show to get involved, since we’ll be moving on to another location soon. But she’s been fined and given a strong warning by the local police that they’ll be keeping an eye on her.”

Damn! I just hoped that would be enough to keep her from working with books—and me—again.

“One more thing and I’ll let you all go back to work. I heard from Edward Strathmore an hour ago. He had an unfortunate incident occur at his house last night but wanted everyone to know that the party is still on.”

There were more cheers, and I realized that this was the perfect moment to bring out the cupcakes. I ran back to get the big box, and a minute later I cleared a space on the coffee table and opened the box. Then I turned to the crowd. “There are cupcakes for everyone over here!”

You might have thought I’d let loose the hounds. The cupcakes were gone in less than a minute.

They all agreed they were great, although most of the guys
wolfed them down so quickly, I’m not sure they tasted them at all. I was really glad I’d set some aside for later.

•   •   •

I
n my dressing room, I had finished my last round of research and was feeling nostalgic. I was about to appraise my last book. It was a moment to savor.

I glanced over at Derek, who was still working on his computer. “I’ve got to be onstage in a minute,” I said, “so I’m having my cupcake now. Do you want one?”

“Not yet,” Derek said, not looking up. “I’m afraid the clients have bollixed this budget again. I’m going to have to run some more numbers before I can call it a night.”

There was a knock on the door. “Ten minutes, Brooklyn!”

“Wait for me, Angie,” I shouted.

Derek started to close up his computer.

“It’s okay,” I said, waving him back. “You’re still working. I’ll walk out with Angie. I’ll be fine.”

He seemed to weigh the options, then nodded. “Stay with Angie.”

“I will.” I grabbed my cupcake, then gave him a quick kiss.

“I’ll be out there in five minutes,” Derek said, glancing at his watch.

“Okay.”

I joined Angie in the hall. “How’s Randy feeling?”

“He looks like crap,” she said. “I don’t know. He was fine earlier, but now he’s got it bad, whatever it is.”

“Should he go back to the hospital?”

“He refuses.” Clearly worried, she stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

“I’m sorry, hon. Any news on the moving front?” I asked.

“He’s been too sick to talk about it.”

“I think we need some cheering up. Good thing I have an
extra cupcake.” I held it up in front of her face. “And I’m willing to share.”

“Oh, my God, is that chocolate coconut?”

“Yup.” I took a big bite and handed the rest to her.

“Are you sure? Really?”

“Yes,” I said. “And look, there’s a chunk of creamy chocolate in the middle.”

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I’m not worthy.”

“Then give it back.”

“No way!” She took a bite and moaned. “It’s so good. I want to meet your cupcake friend and kiss her.”

I laughed again. “You’ve got coconut frosting on your nose.”

She pointed at me. “You’ve got it streaked across your cheek. How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. Guess I got carried away.” I tried to wipe it off.

“You’re making it worse.” She snorted.

“You’re not helping,” I said, laughing. “I’d better go to Makeup.”

She made a face. “I’ve got to get back onstage.”

“No, wait for me.” As we reached Randy’s dressing room, I noticed the door was open so I peeked in to make sure it was safe. Randy was gone. “Where is he?”

“He’s already out onstage. And I’m in deep doo-doo if I don’t get out there now.”

“Okay, you go ahead. I’ll just be a second. I’m going to use Randy’s mirror. He’s got his own deluxe makeup kit in here.”

“I’ll see you out there,” she called from the hallway. “Oh, hi, Garth.”

I popped my head out and waved to the friendly old janitor sweeping the floor near the door that led to the stage.

I stared at the vast selection of makeup in the tiered case on Randy’s dressing table.
It’s nice to be the star of the show,
I thought. The makeup man came to him instead of the other way around.

I grabbed a tissue from the box and wiped the frosting off my cheek. Then I picked up a pot of pale cream makeup that matched the color of my skin and found a clean sponge. Dabbing it into the makeup, I leaned in close to the mirror and brought the sponge up to my face.

“No!”

Somebody slapped my hand and the sponge flew across the room.

“Wha—?”

Garth stared at me, his eyes wide with panic.

“Why’d you do that?” I demanded.

“It—it’s . . . nothing!”

“What’s nothing? What are you talking about?”

“The makeup,” he shouted, and moved closer. “It’s been poisoned.”

I tried to step backward but my hip hit the makeup table. “You saw someone put poison in Randy’s makeup?”

He swallowed convulsively. “I . . . I . . . yeah. I saw someone do it.”

“Who was it?”

His eyes were shifting wildly. That’s when I noticed that we were the same height.

But that was impossible. Garth was several inches shorter than me. I remembered from when he’d helped me with the stage flats.

“Garth, are you all right?”

“Gotta go.” His voice was deeper than usual.

He turned to leave, and I noticed his shoulders weren’t as hunched over as they usually were.

I recognized that deep voice.

“Gerald?”

“Nope, that ain’t me,” he said, his voice sounding crackly and old like Garth’s.

“Gerald, I know it’s you.”

He spun around. “Shut up! Shut up! Why can’t you leave it alone?”

“You’ve been here all along! You were Garth, the janitor. You’ve got a fake beard and shaggy eyebrows. No wonder nobody noticed you.”

“Nobody ever notices the janitor.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth and pulled something out from between his teeth. His cheeks were no longer sunken in. The appliance he’d been wearing had been giving him that gaunt look, and now it was gone. Garth was gone.

“When you came in yesterday as Gerald, I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

He reached for the door and slammed it shut. He had dropped the pretense of being a shorter, weaker man. Now he was tall and strong. And angry. At me.

I held up both hands. “Just let me walk out of here, and nobody will ever have to know.”

He shook his head like a temperamental bull. “It’s too late for that, isn’t it, Brooklyn? And it’s your own fault.”

“My fault?” I said.
What nerve!
“Was it Randy’s fault that he was hired and you were fired?”

“Yes!” His mouth screwed up as if the words spilling from it tasted as nasty as they sounded. “He was the only one standing in my way.”

“That doesn’t make it his fault. It doesn’t give you the right to torment him.” I took a slow, steady breath and tried to calm down. I had to try cool logic. I didn’t have much else.
Why
hadn’t I stayed with Angie? “He just happened to be filling in while you were sick, and the audience liked him.”

“It was my show!” he shouted. “Mine!” He charged over and jabbed his finger inches from my face. “I came up with the concept. I made it what it is today. They had no right to take it away from me.”

“No, they didn’t,” I said, trying not to show my nerves. He was starting to lose it, and that scared the hell out of me. “They behaved very badly. You have every right to be angry.”

“That’s right.”

“But you shouldn’t have poisoned Randy.”