He nodded as he trundled into the library. “Take your time, take your time.”
Walker came in after him, but paused as he reached Charlotte. “Do what you need to do. I’ll be looking for my next book.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll find you when I’m free.” Which would take all of three minutes. Sure, there were still things that needed doing. But Millie was holed up in her office, and Walker needed to talk to her. And he’d brought her fancy coffee. And food.
After a quick buzz by Millie’s office to make sure she was actually in there, and the trip to the reading room to bring the judge his paper, Charlotte found Walker in the science fiction row. She sidled up to him, keeping her voice to a whisper even though Judge Turnbury was on the other side of the building and the only other patron in the place. Not to mention a little hard of hearing. “So, what’s up?”
Walker shelved the Isaac Asimov omnibus he was perusing and faced her. The stern set of his mouth and the strength of his gaze made her think something serious was about to happen. “This isn’t where I wanted to do this, but time is running out.”
“Time for what?” His tone was grave, but she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
He took hold of her hand, his fingers loosely wrapping her wrist. “Listen, I know you’re a witch. But what I don’t know is who you’re working for. I need you to tell me.”
She jerked her head back. “Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about. And how do you know I’m a witch?”
“Are you working for the Collective? Have they contacted you?” He was peering at her intensely.
“Who’s the Collective? And why would they contact me? The only organization I work for is the Maine Library system.”
“You’re telling the truth.” He let go of her wrist.
“Of course I’m telling the truth.” She was also starting to get a little mad. “What is going on?”
He glanced past her, like he was checking for eavesdroppers. “That book you had me look at? It’s not worthless. It’s very valuable and very powerful.”
“I know.”
He frowned. “How?”
“Well, like you said, I’m a witch—”
“But if you can’t open it, it won’t do you any good.”
She crossed her arms. “Who said I can’t open it?”
Chapter Nine
Charlotte’s words hit Walker like a gut punch. “You can open the book?”
“Yes. But only when I have direct contact with it.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but it all made sense. “That’s why you wore the gloves. And made me wear them.” Wow. Charlotte was crafty.
“Yes.” Then she shrugged. “Why is it such a big deal that I can open the book?”
“Because…it is.” He didn’t want to explain to her everything that meant. Not standing in the middle of a public library. “I need you to give me—”
“Hello? Anyone here?”
Charlotte whipped around toward the voice. “Coming!” She marched off toward the front desk.
“Wait—” But she was already moving. Walker stayed on her heels. She was surprisingly quick. “Charlotte, I—”
“Sheriff Bull.” Charlotte slipped behind the front desk and put on a big smile. “Done with that Reacher book already?”
“No, no, this is business.” The sheriff frowned. “I’m sorry to say but there’s been another break-in.”
Charlotte looked confused. “Not here.”
The sheriff sighed and put her hands on her belt. “No. Unfortunately, it was at your apartment.”
“What?” Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath. Her knuckles went white where she was holding onto the edge of the counter. “Edgar Allan. Is my cat okay?”
“Yes, he’s just fine. But we need you to come with us and identify what’s been taken.”
She nodded like she was numb. “Okay. H-how did you find out about the break-in?”
“Your neighbor saw that the lock had been jimmied.”
“They must have been waiting for me to leave for the library.” Charlotte looked at her watch. “I’ve only been gone forty-five minutes.”
They’d made quick work of the place, Walker thought.
“Sounds like that’s exactly what happened,” the sheriff said.
“You think it was the Belmont brothers?” Charlotte asked. “You know those two are shady.”
“Could be. We’ll know when we run the prints.” The sheriff tipped her head slightly. “Why don’t you ride with me?”
“I’ll drive her,” Walker said.
The sheriff squinted at him. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Walker stuck his hand out. “Walker Black.”
The sheriff shook his hand as she gave him the once-over that plainly said she was sizing him up. “You must be new in town.”
“I am.”
“You ever thought about applying to be a deputy?”
“Wasn’t on my radar, no. Why, are you hiring?”
“Not at the moment. But you never know when a vacancy might come up.” Sheriff Bull returned her attention to Charlotte. “I’ll see you at your apartment in a few minutes, then.”
“Except…” Charlotte glanced behind her. “I don’t think Mrs. Merriweather will let me leave.”
Sheriff Bull snorted. “It’s not up to her. This is official business. Get the old bird over here, I’ll talk to her.”
Charlotte nodded and left the front desk.
Walker walked around the desk, positioning himself closer to the sheriff. “I don’t know who the Belmont brothers are, but do you think that’s who ransacked the library yesterday?”
She narrowed her eyes again. “I haven’t ruled it out. What do you think?”
He mulled it over, making a mental note to add the Belmont brothers to the possible suspect list. “Two break-ins in two days? I’m not much on coincidence.”
She let out a sigh. “Neither am I. And I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this, but things happen in this town sometimes that have…unusual reasons.”
Did that mean the sheriff was wise to the supernatural side of things? He played dumb. “Not sure what you mean.”
Her brows lifted. “I think you do. I might be human, but I’m not stupid.”
That answered that. She knew. With that new information, he kept thinking out loud. “Means Charlotte could be the target.” At least, that’s what it meant to Walker. Whoever had broken into her apartment either knew she had the book or thought she did. And chances were excellent they’d found it. He’d need to contact Stillwell about that immediately. And have him dig for info on the Belmonts. The only upside was this break-in decreased the chances that Charlotte was working for the Collective.
“Maybe.” The sheriff gave Walker a long look. “But what would Charlotte have that’s worth all the bother? She doesn’t strike me as the type with a secret stash of jewels or cash. I don’t disagree that Charlotte’s being targeted, but I don’t see how she fits in yet.”
“I don’t know.” He wasn’t about to reveal anything about the book to the sheriff. Just because she was wise to the supernatural business that went on in town, didn’t mean she knew about the book or Charlotte being a witch. And that last bit was not his to reveal. He also got the feeling that the citizens of Everlasting understood there was some supernatural stuff happening in their town, but sort of gave it the side eye and let it be. The sheriff included. He didn’t blame them, being human. “I was at her house last night for dinner. I didn’t see anything valuable enough to warrant a break-in.”
“You were there last night? And now you’re here this morning. Where were you before you got here?”
He smiled, because he’d known that question was coming. “Went for a run, then Chickadee’s for breakfast, then straight here. Easy to confirm.”
She nodded. “All right.”
Charlotte came back out with a fuming Millie. The woman’s face was pinched into an express
ion of utter exasperation. “What’s this about Charlotte needing to leave?”
Sheriff Bull planted her feet and puffed out her chest a little. “That’s right. She’s been the victim of a crime and I need her on the scene. You aren’t going to stand in the way of the law, are you, Millie?”
Millie’s pinched expression softened slightly. Very slightly. “No, of course not. But it does leave me in a bind. I’ll be here all alone.”
“Unless Judge Turnbury has left, he’ll be the only other patron in the building,” Walker pointed out. “I’m headed out myself.”
Millie sniffed. “There could be an influx of patrons at any moment.”
“I’ll send a deputy over to keep you company. November’s free.” Sheriff Bull squeezed the radio on her shoulder and got hold of the deputy in question, giving him the command to hightail it to the library.
When she was done, she nodded at the three of them. “All right, let’s go, we’re wasting daylight. I’ll see you over there.”
Walker liked the sheriff. She said exactly what she meant. People like that made good allies. And even better sources of information. “Charlotte, you want to grab your coat while I bring the truck around?”
“Oh, right.” She went into the back room of the library again.
He headed out to the parking lot and started up his truck, cranking on the heat to take the chill off. The sheriff drove past, giving him a wave. He waved back, then pulled the truck around to the front of the library.
Charlotte came out a few moments later, hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. Her gaze was a thousand miles away. She climbed in, put her seat belt on and stared through the windshield like she was on autopilot.
“You okay?”
It took a second, but she looked at him. “Someone broke into my apartment. Do you think this is about the book? It has to be. It’s the only valuable thing in there. Besides Edgar Allan.”
He wanted to hug her. Comfort her in some way. But she might not welcome it and she had enough to deal with. “Yes, probably, just like that’s why the library was ransacked yesterday. They want that book.”
“You know it’s just an old book of magic, right? But the thing is, grimoires aren’t exactly rare.”
He eased off the brake and got them moving toward her place. “This one is. Rare and extremely dangerous. In the right hands. Which…” He glanced at her. “Yours are, apparently. It can be used to—”
“How do you know my hands are the right ones? Wait, how do you know about this book? And that I’m a witch?”
“I know about the book because I work for an organization whose mission is to protect the world from dark magic.” The FOL wasn’t going to like him sharing so much, but he didn’t care about them right now. Just Charlotte. She was all that mattered in this moment. “And I know you’re a witch because I’m a shifter and I can sense that you’re not human. Just like you can probably sense I’m not either.”
She frowned. “I didn’t pick that up at all. What kind of shifter are you?”
“Leopard.”
“That explains Edgar Allan’s reaction to you.”
Walker just nodded and let her process all the new information.
She spoke a minute later. “So you’re not really an antiquer after all.”
“No, I am. But I specialize in magical objects.” He knew he needed to tell her he was a witch hunter, but now was not the right time. Not with all she was dealing with. Plus, that info might turn her against him. He liked Charlotte too much to lose her trust. He’d tell her, but at the right time. Besides all that, he couldn’t help but feel like she needed someone on her side. Someone who could protect her from the Collective. “I recover those objects and turn them in to the organization, then they make sure the objects can never be used to hurt anyone again.”
She seemed to think that over for a moment. “And how do you know that my hands are the right hands?”
“Because you said you can open the book. I assume you can see the spells on the pages, too?” He rounded the bend. No sign of the sheriff. The woman must have a lead foot.
“Yes. What does that mean?”
“That the book has chosen you. For the remainder of your life, no one else will be able to open it or read what’s inside. You have become the book’s keeper.” Or she would, once she’d bonded with the book. Which he really hoped she hadn’t done yet.
“That’s…nuts.”
“That’s Middian’s.” He eased the heat back. “No one knows for sure how it got that way, but it’s proven to be true for at least two centuries.”
“The book is that old?”
“Yes. And it considers this town its home, which is why it showed up at the library. That’s where it always shows up when the current owner passes. Oh, one more thing. The new keeper of the book is granted one wish, so be careful what you say around the book. Not that it matters now.”
“Why’s that?”
He made a face. “Because whoever broke into your apartment is most likely in possession of it.”
“No, they’re not.”
He shot her a look. “Was your hiding place that good?”
“No, but that’s not what I meant. The book isn’t in my apartment.”
“Then where is it?”
“It’s in my tote bag. Back in the library.”
It took everything in him not to let out a whoop of happiness. “Why did you bring it to work? I’m really glad you did, but why?”
“I don’t know. I just felt…compelled to keep it with me. I guess I thought maybe I’d have time on my lunch break to look through it.” She held a hand up. “Not that I’m going to try any of the spells or anything. I’m just a novice. That book is way more complicated than anything I can manage right now.”
“You’re a novice?” He found that hard to believe.
“Yep.” She pointed left as they approached a four-way stop. “Turn left here. Wait. You’ve been to my apartment before. Sorry, the stress is getting to me.”
“Completely understandable. And we are coming from a different direction so it’s helpful.” He made the left. “What were you saying about being a novice?”
“I only just found out I was a witch a couple months ago. The only spells I can do are pretty basic ones, except for the fire spell. I have yet to get that one right without causing a small inferno.”
How was it possible that she was a new witch? “That’s not what I thought at all.”
“What did you think?”
“That you were one of the most powerful spell casters I’d come up against in a long time.”
She gave him an odd look. “Why would you think that? The only magic I’ve done recently was definitely not aimed at you and didn’t go that well anyway. Granted, it might have accidentally affected you, and if it did, I apologize. Stupid love spell.” She sighed. “I’m supposed to be practicing, but my mentor only got back into town this week and I’ve kind of been slacking off. Plus cleaning up the library after it was vandalized wore me out.”
“You cast a love spell? And you think it accidentally hit me?”
Her head spun toward him like it was on a swivel. “Calm down. I said it might have affected you. What are you so worried about? You’re the one who kissed me. Of course, if that spell did hit you then, oh, never mind. Did you or did you not kiss me first?”
“That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Magic. That explains it. Just magic gone wrong.” He laughed, hearing the nerves in his own voice.
“That explains what?”
“I just thought…I was starting to have feelings for you.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. The tiniest bit of what looked like panic – or maybe it was horror – crept into her gaze. “You. Have feelings. For me.”
He frowned. The Seaview apartments were just ahead, which was good, because he was ready for this conversation to be over. “After what happened in your kitchen? After the way you kissed me?
You’re telling me that none of that affected you.”
She swallowed and stared at the cluster of patrol cars clogging up the lot. “My feelings are a little jumbled right now. And even if I was having feelings, which I’m not, I’d nip them in the bud because you’re just passing through. And not even my type.”
“Good to know.”
“Look, if I led you to think there was something going on between us, or that something was possible between us, I’m sorry. Last night was just dinner. I thought you could tell me more about the book. That was all.”
He angled the truck into a spot and turned the engine off.
She jumped out of the truck before he could say another word.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte was torn. She wanted to talk to Walker about as much as she didn’t want to talk to Walker. He’d given her so much new information about the book and about him (a leopard shifter!) that it only made trying to focus on the task at hand – dealing with her home being violated – incredibly difficult. And right now, the best she could do was one thing at a time. So she tucked away everything he’d shared until some later date when the space in her head wasn’t already so full.
Whenever that might be.
She trudged up the steps to her apartment, dreading what lay ahead. Sheriff Bull met her at the closed door. “Your apartment is currently an active crime scene, so while we’re not concerned with you getting new prints on things, we don’t want you moving anything until the whole place has been photographed.”
Charlotte nodded. “Active crime scene. Got it.” What a strange thing to hear said about the place you considered home. Everlasting wasn’t exactly known for its high crime rate, either. The whole thing was just surreal.
“All right,” the sheriff continued. “You and I are going to do a walk-through. It might be a little overwhelming, but I want you to tell me as best you can if anything’s been taken.”
“Okay. But I want to see my cat first. Where is he?”
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