someone broke into Emily’s house and stole the book. It’s been missing for three years and it just resurfaced thisweek.”
Kind of like you did,
I thought, but didn’t say it out loud.
“So…wait. I’m not following you. Explain how—”
“Just let me finish,” I said, knowing his mind would drift off to Emily if I didn’t get the story out fast. “I knew the book had been stolen from Emily years ago, so I had to break the news to Ian. He let me know who he bought it from, and I drove to that bookstore to talk to the owner, Joe Taylor. I wanted to find out who sold it to Joe—you know? Anyway, when I got there, I found Joe dead. His throat was cut.”
That shook Max up. “Jeez, Brooklyn. I’m sorry.”
I grimaced. “You will be when you hear what the murder weapon was.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone slit Joe’s throat open with a special kind of knife. It’s a papermaker’s knife. Four-inch, square-headed blade, common as anything. I think I have three or four of them. You probably do, too.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. So?”
“So after I was questioned by the police, I went to my car and found my tire had been slashed.”
“Sounds like you were having a bad day.”
“You might say that. Anyway, whoever did it left the weapon stuck in my tire. It was a Japanese paper knife, an expensive one. It had the letters
M-A-X
carved on the handle.”
He frowned again and stared at the onions as though he might find enlightenment there. Then he looked up at me. “Say that again.”
“I think you heard me.”
“But how in the world…Wait.” His eyes widened and he pointed the chopping knife at me. “You can’t be thinking that I would ever…No. There’s no way. First of all, I don’t even know this bookseller guy. What’d you say his name was? Joe? And second, I haven’t left this godforsaken mountain in three years. I had nothing to do with this. I don’t know how—”
“I know you didn’t do it, Max,” I said as patiently as Icould. “But someone’s trying to make it look like you did. They had your tools. They had the book you gave Emily. They put the book out on the market to lure you out. They killed Joe to lure you out. And that means they must know you’re alive.”
“Ah, crap,” he muttered, then followed the word up with an expletive stream that threatened to turn the air blue. Finally out of words, he let his brute strength take over and he plunged his knife into the chopping block with all the force of a category-three hurricane. “Damn it, I know who—”
The kitchen door flew open and I screamed. Derek and Gabriel stomped into the house, looking wild, wet, windblown, and sexier than any two men had a right to be. Especially after scaring me half to death.
But seriously? If I took their picture right now, it would land on the cover of
People
magazine’s Two Sexiest Men in the World Edition. Just saying.
“Thank God,” I uttered, and wrapped my arms around Derek’s neck. I could feel the cold and wet seeping into me, but I didn’t care. I’d never been so happy to see him.
“Find anyone out there?” Max asked.
“No.”
I grabbed Gabriel and hugged him, too. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“No worries, babe.” He grinned as he took a dish towel off the counter and wiped some of the rain from his face and neck.
“Let me get some more towels,” Max muttered, and stalked out of the room.
“Did you tell him?” Derek asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said, staring at the door Max had disappeared through. “And I think he was about to tell me who’s responsible when you guys walked in.”
Max came back into the kitchen a moment later and handed towels to Derek and Gabriel. “I’ll make dinner for everyone; then you all need to leave. It’s too dangerous for you here.”
“You know who’s doing this, Max,” I said, grabbing hold of his arms. “Tell us who it is. We can help you.”
He pushed my hands away. “You don’t want to know.
Kind of like you did,
I thought, but didn’t say it out loud.
“So…wait. I’m not following you. Explain how—”
“Just let me finish,” I said, knowing his mind would drift off to Emily if I didn’t get the story out fast. “I knew the book had been stolen from Emily years ago, so I had to break the news to Ian. He let me know who he bought it from, and I drove to that bookstore to talk to the owner, Joe Taylor. I wanted to find out who sold it to Joe—you know? Anyway, when I got there, I found Joe dead. His throat was cut.”
That shook Max up. “Jeez, Brooklyn. I’m sorry.”
I grimaced. “You will be when you hear what the murder weapon was.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone slit Joe’s throat open with a special kind of knife. It’s a papermaker’s knife. Four-inch, square-headed blade, common as anything. I think I have three or four of them. You probably do, too.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. So?”
“So after I was questioned by the police, I went to my car and found my tire had been slashed.”
“Sounds like you were having a bad day.”
“You might say that. Anyway, whoever did it left the weapon stuck in my tire. It was a Japanese paper knife, an expensive one. It had the letters
M-A-X
carved on the handle.”
He frowned again and stared at the onions as though he might find enlightenment there. Then he looked up at me. “Say that again.”
“I think you heard me.”
“But how in the world…Wait.” His eyes widened and he pointed the chopping knife at me. “You can’t be thinking that I would ever…No. There’s no way. First of all, I don’t even know this bookseller guy. What’d you say his name was? Joe? And second, I haven’t left this godforsaken mountain in three years. I had nothing to do with this. I don’t know how—”
“I know you didn’t do it, Max,” I said as patiently as Icould. “But someone’s trying to make it look like you did. They had your tools. They had the book you gave Emily. They put the book out on the market to lure you out. They killed Joe to lure you out. And that means they must know you’re alive.”
“Ah, crap,” he muttered, then followed the word up with an expletive stream that threatened to turn the air blue. Finally out of words, he let his brute strength take over and he plunged his knife into the chopping block with all the force of a category-three hurricane. “Damn it, I know who—”
The kitchen door flew open and I screamed. Derek and Gabriel stomped into the house, looking wild, wet, windblown, and sexier than any two men had a right to be. Especially after scaring me half to death.
But seriously? If I took their picture right now, it would land on the cover of
People
magazine’s Two Sexiest Men in the World Edition. Just saying.
“Thank God,” I uttered, and wrapped my arms around Derek’s neck. I could feel the cold and wet seeping into me, but I didn’t care. I’d never been so happy to see him.
“Find anyone out there?” Max asked.
“No.”
I grabbed Gabriel and hugged him, too. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“No worries, babe.” He grinned as he took a dish towel off the counter and wiped some of the rain from his face and neck.
“Let me get some more towels,” Max muttered, and stalked out of the room.
“Did you tell him?” Derek asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said, staring at the door Max had disappeared through. “And I think he was about to tell me who’s responsible when you guys walked in.”
Max came back into the kitchen a moment later and handed towels to Derek and Gabriel. “I’ll make dinner for everyone; then you all need to leave. It’s too dangerous for you here.”
“You know who’s doing this, Max,” I said, grabbing hold of his arms. “Tell us who it is. We can help you.”
He pushed my hands away. “You don’t want to know.
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