Page 67 of Booked for Theft

SEVENTEEN

I understood being a shadow, and I wished it upon nobody.

The three books taunted me from my desk for the rest of the day, and I wondered what mystery, treachery, or pure intentions waited within the pretty foiled paper. If luck held, perhaps we would find numerous felonies.

That thought kept me amused until it was time to go home. The books went into my purse, and I skipped to the entry, discovering a gathering of most librarians.

“It’s an itty bitty book brigade.” Because I could, I bounced to a halt, delighted that my feet handled the task without even a hint of soreness. Then, because I could, I hopped.

Everyone stared at me, and Mickey raised a brow. “What has you so hyper?”

“Nothing hurts,” I informed him.

My co-workers chuckled; Dr. Mansfield had warned everyone I might go through phases of hyperactivity over my changed situation. Sure enough, every rare now and again, something snapped in my brain, and I bounced around like I had springs in my feet. Part of me wanted to blame the books lurking in my purse, but in reality, I understood the source.

I’d lost the war with Senator Thaddens, but I might win the battles with Representative Forsythe.

While I’d done nothing wrong and couldn’t have prevented the man’s death, I had a chance of redemption, and the representative might escape the invasive treatment methods that left people a shadow of their former selves.

I understood being a shadow, and I wished it upon nobody.

“We have questions about the politician you fleeced today,” my boss announced.

“He ate food spicy enough to make me cry, so I’m assuming the peppers fried his brain and encouraged him to offer up the contents of his wallet. He likes the idea of the history program and wishes to help buy books for that section. Books from early AD are rather pricy, so we can get an excellent collection with his donations. I need permission to take the library’s bank card to my favorite bookstores with AD offerings so I can buy up interesting non-fiction titles.”

“Approved,” Mr. Tawnlen replied. “I’ll have the card drawn up for you, and I’ll get the authorizations for your preferred bookstores handled tomorrow. I’ll need the address and the store name to make sure the bank doesn’t give you trouble.”

“I’ll need the number. Knowing how much some of these books cost, the bank will be wanting to speak with me about the purchases. He was also nice enough to flag money for the insurance policy we’ll need for the books.” I shrugged, and as I wanted to get home and check out the presents I’d received, I said, “I’m going to take some of this energy home with me. You all good for this weekend?”

Everyone nodded. Satisfied we could look at the cell problems in a new way, I waved and abandoned ship before anyone could stop me, hurrying home. The walk bothered me more than normal, and I needed to resist the urge to look over my shoulder. Once I let myself into the condo, I heaved a relieved sigh. After taking my books and phone out of my purse, I put it away and searched for Bradley, discovering him plinking away at his grand piano, evidence he’d had a rough afternoon and needed to unwind.

Bradley usually waited for after dinner to toy with his piano while I struggled to decide which book I’d be reading for the evening. “Something the matter?”

“Boredom,” he confessed. “I’m so bored I could scream, so I decided I’d practice, except that’s boring me, too.”

While some people thrived working from home, I worried that Bradley needed more engagement, especially after having taken the stock market by storm and emerging a winner. “Do you need a project?”

“Yes.”

“I need more book money. Earn me every penny on the planet for use as book money.”

He burst into laughter. “I see you have barreled straight to the acceptance phase of my wealth and are diving into the enjoyment of the excess funds portion of life.”

“You can feel as guilty as you’d like over the money you earned. There is a wonderful world of felony in book format I can pursue, and I want to see how many felonies I can accumulate without getting caught.” I showed him my wrapped presents. “We sobbed in my office, Bradley. The peppers reduced us both to literal sobbing. He even finished his entire burger before seeking out mercy. I ate all of mine and used my fries to recover from the trauma. Please walk me to the burger place again tomorrow.”

My fiancé smiled. “I can manage that. Was your anxiety okay after you made it to your office?”

“I’m just worried about Representative Forsythe. It’ll take me twenty or thirty minutes at most to remove his cancer. I gave him my cell number to give to his doctor.”

“Are you feeling guilty you couldn’t save Senator Thaddens?”

I nodded.

“Why don’t I make you a tea, we’ll order in dinner, and you can eat your feelings. While we wait for dinner to arrive, we’ll look at your new books.”

“We really should learn to cook,” I muttered.

“Not on a day like today. You look like you might actually start crying on me, so I’m going to provide spicy food so if you do start crying, you can blame our meal. When you’re ready to cry, you will. Until then, I’ll provide cover and an excuse.” Bradley got up, scooted his bench back into place, and herded me towards the dining room. “Before you worry, Ajani and the kittens are taking a nap in the new dog bed I got for them earlier today. They had a busy afternoon running around the condo like lunatics.”