Chapter 3

He turned his attention back to the map.

“Delbert?” I blurted. “You’re Delbert?”

He looked up at me. “I am. And your job is toast.”

At that exact moment, Professor Maxwell spoke from behind me. “Delbert, your mother has been looking for you.”

Delbert leaped from the chair. “Uncle John! I have always admired this office. It’s so”—he gazed around at the bookshelves crammed full of books, tribal masks, primitive hatchets, spears, and unusual artifacts from the professor’s adventures—“interesting.”

In a dry voice, Professor Maxwell said, “Your mother is waiting.”

Delbert hurried from the room, a completely different person from the one who had been so smug only moments before.

As he clattered down the stairs in a rush, Professor Maxwell said to me, “I’m sorry, Florrie. Whatever he said or did, I’m very sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I watched the professor walk down the stairs, so elegant and refined. Professor Maxwell, for all his intelligence, breeding, and money, had two flaws that I could see. He loathed confrontation and avoided it at every opportunity. Being passive was a wonderful trait in a human being. It meant congeniality and pleasant times. It made him a lovely boss, and a terrible manager.

He also had no internal clock or sense of time. For someone like me, who was unfailingly punctual and couldn’t imagine being otherwise, it was impossible to grasp that anyone could lose himself in thought to such an extent that he didn’t notice whether it was day or night. But that was Professor Maxwell.

What Delbert had said was probably true. As far as I knew, Professor Maxwell didn’t have any children, except for the one that went missing and was likely deceased. Delbert probably would inherit the entire Maxwell estate eventually.

The rest of the evening was a lot of fun. Bob was always amusing, and the browsers bought a good amount of books. At ten o’clock, I flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED on the front door and while Bob shooed out the downstairs shoppers, I checked the second and third floors for lingering patrons.

The door to Professor Maxwell’s office was open. He sat in his desk chair, his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands.

“Professor Maxwell? Is everything all right?” I asked.

He raised his head and sucked in a deep breath. “For generations, the Maxwell family has been a Washington institution. Oh, we’ve had our oddballs, no doubt about that. One of my relatives was caught stealing pigs, and another had a bad habit of painting other men’s wives in the nude. He was ultimately shot by an angry husband. They say he survived to continue that ill-chosen hobby. I suppose that illustrates either stubbornness or idiocy. Perhaps it’s his blood that has resurfaced in Delbert. In any event, I am troubled that the Maxwell family treasures and heirlooms will eventually land in Delbert’s possession.” He paused. “It’s Saturday night. I’ll have this little matter taken care of by Monday morning. Good night, Florrie.”

I bid him a good night and checked the other rooms to be sure everyone was gone. He was still sitting there, deep in thought, when I passed him again. Bob and I locked the front door and headed to our favorite pizza place. We waited for our orders together, extra cheese and pepperoni for Bob, mushrooms and black olives for me, before splitting up and heading to our respective homes.

For the first time since I had worked at Color Me Read, I didn’t have to drive home. I walked leisurely, enjoying the air of the warm summer night. Georgetown always bustled, but on Saturday nights it was especially vibrant and seemed to hum with intensity as couples and groups sought out the nightlife.

Part of me felt I ought to enjoy it, but the other part wanted nothing more than to curl up in my jammies, draw, eat pizza, and sleep. I walked on the sidewalk across from Color Me Read. It was a prime location. If I counted the attic with dormer windows, the yellow brick Federalist-style building was three stories tall. Four if I included the basement. So far the basement was only in use for off season items and extra display racks. On the street level, a graceful awning sprawled across the front. Stained glass windows added to the charm in transoms over the front door and the windows on the second floor. The professor’s office was on the third floor, along with the rare books. A light still blazed in the dormer windows of his office.

I walked on and was home in minutes. When I unlocked my door, Peaches waited as though she had known I was on my way.

Peaches had been rescued from a stable when she was only two weeks old. She refused a bottle and by six months refused kitten food. Now that she was eight months old, she clearly wasn’t going to be a petite cat. Voracious and spunky, she sampled everything she could. I had even caught her chowing down on a roasted sweet potato.

Her tail had always seemed just a little bit too long for her body. She had mostly grown into it, but she had a habit of marching around with it held high, the top part curled like a question mark.

There was no way I could eat my pizza in peace unless I fed her first. I spooned chicken dinner for cats into a bowl and set it on the floor next to her water. She settled in and ate, a sign that all was well in my new abode. If anyone had been there, she would have let me know.

I walked upstairs and changed into an oversized T-shirt made to look like a green crayon. I grabbed a pillow, a blanket, and jeans because I planned to sleep downstairs. If Delbert lurked around during the night, I would know about it sooner. I didn’t want to wake up and find him in my bedroom.

I stared out at the dark garden as I ate pizza. It would be so pretty at night if I hung some fairy lights. I hoped Delbert had found a new place to live that he loved as much as I adored the carriage house. That would put an end to his interest in it.

Still wide-eyed, I sketched the face of the person who haunted me. Delbert, of the strangely square chin and somewhat Neanderthal brow. When it took shape, I found I had captured his cunning expression.

I hadn’t expected to get much sleep but it had been a full day and exhaustion finally overcame me. At seven minutes to three in the morning, Peaches yowled, and I jerked up. A dark, hunched shadow was trying the handles of the French doors!