Page 15 of Booked for Murder

Then an innocent—or innocents—would pay for the crimes of another until the next body showed up, sprawled and bloodless on the steps of yet another publicly funded building, beginning the cycle all over again.

From my perch in the ivory tower, I’d witnessed that time and time again. To make the bad publicity disappear, an innocent would take the fall for another’s crime. In some cases, nobody learned the truth despite the whispers among the adept. People like Bradley found the truth.

People like me, when ordered, buried it.

I’d been fortunate. Bradley hated burying the truth, so he’d never asked it of me, but I’d gotten my hands dirty a time or two. My most common sin involved making his unpaid parking tickets disappear on the days he slipped off without me.

I had never parked his prized vehicle where a cop might have an excuse to sully her with a ticket. I wrinkled my nose, wondering how many unpaid tickets he accumulated before finally being bothered to deal with them. That sort of thing tended to make the rounds among the adept, who found some way to turn the tickets into a joke.

Bradley hated when people laughed at him.

Then again, the first time someone laughed at him over a parking ticket, I expected he would do his best to never get one again. He went to extremes like that, something I’d found amusing and endearing.

Damn it all to hell, I wasn’t supposed to miss the ivory tower.

I had a new life, and I’d sworn to enjoy it without dreaming of my unfortunately sexy ex-boss, his fast cars, and all the little things that’d made being his for life bodyguard worth my while.

I’d already given him the best of my life, and if he wanted any more of it, he’d have to fight me for it.

I’d sacrificed enough already.

Five

The pre-coffee blur made it much easier to play stupid.

The following morning, a knock at my door woke me before my alarm had a chance to go off. Still dressed in my pajamas, I grabbed my glasses, shoved them onto my face, and limped across my apartment, my fluffy goddess mewing complaints at my heels. I picked her up before dealing with the deadbolt and opening the door to discover my ex-boss, my current boss, and a police officer crowding the hallway. Standing on one foot while managing my cat took more out of me than I liked, and I yawned without bothering to cover my mouth, hoping my severe case of morning breath would drive them away.

In good news, the pre-coffee blur made it much easier to play stupid rather than panic over Bradley Hampton’s presence in my doorway. In better news, the pre-coffee blur made it impossible for me to comprehend why my boss, my ex-boss, and a cop had come calling before my alarm clock had gone off. With an amused smile, Mr. Tawnlen took my cat out of my arms, held her up, and kissed her nose before giving her back. “Sorry to wake you, but these fine gentlemen didn’t believe me when I said we normally swing by your place because you have an integral dislike of phones.”

I hugged Ajani, grateful she’d been amiable about my boss showering her with affection. As a sane woman with nothing to hide invited guests in, I took a step back, careful to keep from limping, and opened the door with my elbow so I wouldn’t upset my fluffy goddess. “Please, come in. I made the mistake of going to a store yesterday, where I was talked into acquiring a phone. I’ll give you the number. I just didn’t get home until late yesterday, so I didn’t swing by the library after I came back from the main branch. Apparently, I’ll need a cell to manage the renovations at our library. In good news, I got the approval for the building’s unused space. All of it.”

“All of it?” my boss blurted, his brows shooting up.

“A private donor wanted to see the historic buildings better used, and as ours always gets the short lot, we got the lion’s share. What can I do for you gentlemen? Is everyone all right, Mr. Tawnlen?”

“Everyone’s fine, although Mickey will be taking a few days off. The blood got to him.” My boss shrugged. “I won’t even lie, the blood got to us all, but those with hemophobia tend to take that sort of thing rather hard. As you’ve already worked one miracle, can you put in a good word to the main branch about footing the therapy bill? The building should be cleaned of the evidence by the end of the day, but the staff? They won’t be ready to go back to work by tomorrow.”

Beatrice would just love when I showed up in her office to explain the situation later in the morning. “I can do that, sir. What else do you need from me?”

“Mr. Hampton has offered his services to law enforcement, and part of the investigation requires all staff at the library to disclose their rating records. While I know you weren’t present and there were plenty of witnesses who knew where you were at the time of the murder, you’re still on the staff roster, so Mr. Hampton wanted to confirm your record.”

I bet. Stifling another yawn, I mentally prepared to hide my limp, which always bothered me the most fresh out of bed. Fortunately, I kept my officiated copies of my not-so-legitimate vital records in the end table near the couch, so I lowered my cat to the cushion, flopped down as though still tired and wanting to return to bed, and groped for the drawer and its precious contents. Another yawn escaped before I retrieved the folder, popped it onto my lap, and sifted through the papers until I found the one that would inform my ex-boss I’d done an hour and twenty-five minutes to establish my current 17.2% aptitude rating. I offered the pages to my boss. “Here you go, sir. That’s current, and I’m not due for another test for at least five years.”

The time frame would discourage the cops; with five years left to go before my next evaluation, they’d assume my rating was up-to-date.

Having seen the papers himself when hiring me, Mr. Tawnlen spared them a single glance before handing them over to my ex-boss, who accepted them and read them over with interest. His interest worried me, but a stranger to him wouldn’t understand the significance, so I grabbed Ajani’s brush, which summoned my furry goddess for her morning affection, which she accepted despite the change to our routine.

“This is longer than the standard test for your rating,” my ex-boss stated, and he narrowed his eyes. “What was the stated reason for the extended testing duration?”

My next words would send him from confused and intrigued to completely baffled, as painting my nails had been something I’d never done willingly while in his employ. “After thirty minutes, I became bored. One of my testers was a rather nice woman, so we painted our nails. It would’ve smudged the paint, so she let the time go on longer, which worked for her, as the longer testing period gave a more accurate rating.”

“I see.” According to his tone, Bradley had more doubt than he knew what to do with. “Why did you get a certified copy?”

I pointed at my cat. “I love her, but when I first got her, she was a menace and destroyed papers I’d left out, so I needed a new copy. Certifying made it easier for employment purposes.”

“Ah. I’ll explain,” my boss offered, taking a seat on the other end of the couch and reaching over to reward my cat with the love she was owed and deserved. “Public servants, including librarians, are required to have certified copies of their rating records. We have quotas we have to fill, and certification ensures we meet those quotas and have the appropriate staff on hand at all times. We’ve found patrons prefer when they can work with a librarian with the same general rating. While Miss Asurella is certainly an asset to our branch, she’s technically a quota hire.”

“That’s a thing? People really get upset if a librarian isn’t the right rank?” my ex-boss asked, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his incredulous tone. “Why would someone waste time trying to locate a librarian with the right rating?”