Page 53 of Booked for Theft

I was thirty books deep into my rampage when Bradley showed up with the wagon, which he left with the amused bookshop owner, who was well used to our voracious ways. He stared at me with a raised brow. “I’m five minutes late, as a kitten attacked my foot and required attention, and you’ve found how many books you want?”

I pointed at my pile. “Those.” As I’d completed my MR rampage, I headed for the AD section, which would cost us a frightful amount of money. “Albert, I need you to rescue me, please,” I called, aware the man loved when I, a librarian, needed his help. “These books are being mean to me.”

As his AD collection was stored behind glass on the very top shelf, he would need to get out the ladder to help me conquer. As he was versed regarding my special needs, he saved himself the time and effort, bringing the ladder with him. “Did Bradley finally convince you to spend your money on the old books you really want?”

I pointed up at the AD section that should contain books from the timeline I wanted to research. “I am trying to acquire at least two books from every AD decade since the invention of the printing press.”

Albert joined Bradley in raising a brow at me. “That’s an ambitious project but one that might leave you with some shelf space when you’re finished. Are we pursuing fiction or non-fiction?”

“I’m going to start with non-fiction, perhaps two per decade,” I replied, locked on to my shelf of choice. After pointing at it, I said, “I am going to begin my collection there. That book has a gorgeous red spine, and I wish to behold its glory. I’m going to need a pair of gloves and assurance there is nothing up there that can’t be handled.”

Albert dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of black gloves, which he handed over to me. “Everything up there can be handled. Please don’t fall. Be careful when passing down the books you want.”

With a little help from both men, I situated the ladder before scrambling up. Albert passed me the keys for the case, which I unlocked. Once I had the glass slid open, I began the tedious process of checking over every single book for its contents.

The book with a red spine proved to be a leather bound edition of a fiction piece that took place almost two hundred years prior to my target decade. Magic had preserved it to a like new collection. A bookmark inside informed me I would pay a thousand dollars for the title.

“This is fiction, but it’s going home with me, Bradley. It’s pretty, and I haven’t read this one.”

My fiancé, who also wore gloves, held up his hands to take the book. “I will make certain it comes home with us. You can fall in love with one other ancient fiction book, but the rest needs to be non-fiction today. We’re working on your non-fiction shelves this week.”

I pouted and handed over my prize. “Thank you.”

Using the fiction book as my starting point, I sorted through the offerings until I found titles between 2060 AD through 2120 AD. Living up to my claim I meant to collect two from each decade, I took care to pick from a variety of subjects outside of the window I needed to pursue closer.

Luck was with me, as there were several contemporary political science text books published in the aftermath of the dating change, one published in 2112 and another in 2123, which might offer some insights. A contemporary history book from 2105 might offer some illumination. I added a book on diplomatic sciences from 2111, which I’d blame on my visit to the White House. Outside of those books, nothing else appeared to be relevant, so I acquired a book on global currencies and economics from 2109, a botany book, a variety of cookbooks, and a guide on how to brew beer and wine at home.

My fiancé pointed up at the shelf. “What is that big book on the end of the shelf you’re looking at?”

I leaned over to check the spine, which had nothing on it to indicate what it was. Puzzled, I grabbed it, taking care in case the spine wasn’t in good condition. I peeked inside to discover someone had made a scrapbook, including photographs, newspaper scraps, and handwritten notes. “It’s someone’s personal collection of random stuff.” I checked the bookmark. “It’s fifty dollars.”

“I want it. The spine is gorgeous.”

I checked the spine, which lacked text but had been etched with fancy designs. Shrugging, I handed it down for him. “It’s your money. If you want to play with the personal collection of random stuff, I’m not going to stop you.” Moving the book revealed that there was a packet of papers that had been crammed between the book and its neighbor, pushed back enough I hadn’t noticed the lack of a proper book spine. I grabbed it, my eyes widening as I read the topmost pamphlet, which indicated it was a voter’s guide for the state of Oregon from 2104. I thumbed through the papers, discovering voter guides for Oregon for an entire decade. “Oh, this is cool.”

According to the bookmark, the set would cost me ten dollars, and I handed it down to Bradley to put into the pile. “Hey, Albert. Do you have any more weird stuff up here?”

“Weird stuff?” The shopkeeper investigated what I’d pulled down, and he laughed upon spotting the scrapbook. “Actually, yes. One shelf over has pamphlets and other oddities. That one was put there because I ran out of space.”

I got off the ladder, moved it into better position to work with the next shelf, and began the tedious process of going through his pamphlets, which ranged from animal rights activism, advertisements, religious promotion, political propaganda, and campaign information. After ten minutes of trying to sort through everything, I said, “Do you have a box, Albert? Because screw this, I’ll just buy everything on this shelf.”

He laughed at me and got a box before accepting the piles I passed down and loading them up for me. “I picked it up from an estate sale for twenty dollars, so pitch me an offer.”

“I’ll give you a hundred for the whole lot to make up for everything gathering dust and the magic you likely needed to use to preserve everything.”

“I would have asked for fifty, but if you really want to pay me a hundred, I won’t complain.”

I giggled, clearing off the shelf in record time. “Okay, Bradley. I think we can head home now. I have plundered to my heart’s content—at least for today.”

“I’ll even make the second trip alone while you organize everything on the table and visit with the kittens. I don’t think everything is going to fit into the wagon.”

Well, it would if we were willing to stack books on top of the box.

“I have more boxes, and we can lash everything down so you can make only one trip. It’ll be fine. Let’s get you checked out so you can take this fine lady home and feed her spicy food. She looks like she hasn’t had spicy food for at least three days.”

I laughed at the quip, which he’d started using long before Bradley had come barreling back into my life.

His shop was one of the few I could reach while wearing my medical boot.