“This library has some very forward thinking ideas,” she was saying as they reached the entrance, which was shaded by a large awning-style overhang. “I especially like their Automatic Advance Reserve program, where you can sign up for your favorite authors and they’ll notify you when they release a new book and hold it for you to check out.”
“Not bad for flyover country, huh?” he said, irked at her apparent surprise that small-town Kansas could actually be, if not ahead of the curve, at least even with it.
She gave him a sideways look. “Not bad for anywhere. I’m going to suggest it to several places.”
“Don’t you just buy a book if you want it?” He was genuinely curious, not for the first time.
“Yes,” she admitted easily. “But not everyone is as fortunate as I am.”
Well, that’s the understatement of the century... But he supposed he had to give her credit for even being aware of that. Many in her position weren’t.
Once inside, he looked around with interest. It had been a while since he’d been in a library, and he was a little surprised she was so enthusiastic about it. But he had to admit this was nice. The equipment was modern, and it ran from communal areas with comfortable chairs that could fit in a living room to computer stations to a magazine section, with more print magazines than he’d seen in quite a while in a space with windows that showed the outside.
But it was the stained glass windows she’d mentioned that really caught his attention. The train in the window to the children’s area was fun. A pair of windows farther on represented the sunrise and moonrise. Then there was one that was almost a mural and, according to the title, showed the progress of knowledge. That was a bit esoteric for him, but he did like the one with the big tree, appropriately named Under the Reading Tree.
“That’s my favorite,” she whispered. He glanced at her, expecting her to be pointing at the mural one. But instead, she was smiling in delight at the unexpected image of a dragon, no fire-breathing in sight, as he sat happily reading.
“Why?” he asked, a little surprised.
“Because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Flights of the imagination?”
He was totally disarmed by that smile. That this woman of all people, the daughter of a family who could buy this whole town, took such joy in a simple thing amazed him. He’d like to meet her parents someday, because obviously they hadn’t lost sight of what was important if they’d been able to raise a daughter who could still react like this.
Then he nearly laughed at himself. Yeah, that was likely, him hanging around with the likes of the Harts of Westport, Connecticut. That he was with one of them now didn’t count; this was business, and he’d better stick to it.
“You mentioned you wanted to do some research?”
“Yes. One of the staff told me before the meeting yesterday that they have thousands of historic photographs, a history archive, including newspapers from the 1870s forward, and historical local and state plat maps covering the county. I want to see those, track the changes to the McPherson Valley Wetlands, and how and when they happened.”
“Too bad they don’t show the real cost.” He thought he’d kept his voice fairly neutral, but she gave him a narrow glance, anyway.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There was a man who’d been farming around here for sixty years, on land his family had owned for well over a century, when someone decided half of it should be protected. That willing surrender of property to the state you...advocates talk about? Not so willing. He just couldn’t fight the government anymore and took his own life the day after they took it over.”
“That’s horrible. But hardly my fault.” She turned then, facing him head-on. She might be more than half a foot shorter than him, but there was a gleam in her eye that warned him he’d gone a step too far. “You make a lot of assumptions, Mr. Colton. Including, obviously, that I don’t care about people.”
“Maybe you do. Maybe it’s just the fallout after your mission is accomplished that you don’t care about.”
“Are you always so rude to clients?”
In fact, he wasn’t. Ever. And he wasn’t sure what it was about her that prodded him so. Other than her looks, of course. But he’d worked with beautiful women before and never had a problem keeping a leash on his words.
He’d never had one send him into overdrive just from a photograph, though. Because those beautiful women he’d worked with before had, for the most part, proved to him that there wasn’t all that much behind the beauty. But Ashley Hart, a woman he’d half expected to be the worst of that sort, had turned out to be a different kettle of fish entirely.
And he’d better keep himself in line or he was going to blow this job, a job that could catapult Elite Security to an entirely new level.
“My apologies, Ms. Hart. I was out of line.” He gave her a contrite nod. “Please, proceed with your research. I will stay out of your way unless there’s a need for me to interfere.”
She looked, oddly, almost disappointed—and as if she had some further retort on the tip of her tongue and he’d spiked her guns. But in the end, she said nothing, just turned and headed for the separate room where a sign indicated all the historic documents were stored in a controlled environment. A woman from the library staff greeted her, they chatted a moment—Ashley was quite cordial and warm, he noticed—then went into the room. Ty took a look to be sure they were the only ones inside, and that there was no other way in, then settled down to wait.
He took out his phone and texted their location to the office via the encrypted connection. They could find him easily enough with the tracker on the car, but this was protocol. Eric himself responded—a good reminder of how important this case was, and Ty gave himself another silent lecture on behaving himself.
He grabbed one of the desk chairs a couple of rows of bookshelves down and brought it back to sit just outside the door to the room. Anybody after her would have to go through him, and that wasn’t going to happen.
Except for a group of school kids, apparently arriving for a story hour, the place was as quiet as a library traditionally was. He got up now and then to stretch and move around, although he was constantly scanning the area that had access to the door to the document vault.
He was starting to wonder just how long she planned on being in there when his phone signaled an incoming text. Thinking maybe he should have muted it—library, after all—he pulled it out. The incoming was from Mitch, so he opened the app. When he saw what it was about, he stared for a moment, sure he was gaping at the screen.
Then he was on his feet and moving fast. He burst into the archive room, startling the women who were standing by a table that held what looked like a very old map. But he was focused only on one, the woman who stood there with her phone in her hands.
“Are you crazy or just stupid?” he snapped, grabbing the phone out of her hands.
For an instant, she looked actually frightened, which made him wish he’d toned it down a little. He didn’t like scaring people—unless they were the bad guys—but especially women. Not that that made the question any less valid.
But she recovered quickly, and drew herself up with a haughtiness that he suspected Harts learned from the cradle. “Give me back my phone.”
“No,” he said bluntly. He slid the phone—a very high-end one, of course—into a pocket.
“No?” She looked stunned.
Nobody ever say no to you? He nearly laughed at the thought, because he guessed it was quite possibly true. And he could almost feel her anger growing. It practically vibrated the air around her. Ms. Ashley Hart of the Westport Harts was rapidly building toward an eruption.
He decided a change in tactics was called for. He shifted his focus to the still-startled librarian and said with an almost courtly politeness, “My apologies, Mrs. Washington. Ms. Hart may have failed to mention to you that her life has been threatened, and now she has broadcast to the world exactly where she is by posting the photograph she just took of your map.”
The woman’s eyes widened, and she paled slightly. She turned to stare at Ashley, who was gaping at him. “That’s absurd!” she almost yelped. “How dare you barge in here and—”
Ty cut her off and continued speaking to the older woman. “I’m sure Mr. Washington would appreciate it if you made it home this evening, so we’ll ensure your safety by leaving immediately.”
Ashley opened her mouth, he even heard her intake of breath, as if she were readying a barrage of angry retorts. He imagined she was quite capable of that. It seemed to be intrinsic among those who ruled the world—or fancied they did. But suddenly she stopped. She looked at the librarian’s horrified expression and shut her mouth again.
Well, well...maybe she’s not quite as self-absorbed as I thought.
“My own apologies, Mrs. Washington,” she said with exquisite grace and warmth. “It’s not a true threat, you’re not really in any danger, but perhaps caution is wisest. I’ll come back at a better time for all concerned,” she added with a sideways glare at Ty.
She waited until they were back in his car before she held out her hand. “My phone,” she said icily.
“No,” he said again.
“I don’t know what authority you think you have over me, Mr. Colton, but I assure you it does not include stealing my personal property.”
“My authority includes doing whatever is necessary to keep you safe. Including saving you from yourself. What were you thinking?”
“That your fellow Kansans needed to know what they risk losing.”
“And to do that, your parents have to risk losing you?”
She gave a dismissive wave of one slender hand. “It’s just talk. People bluster when they’re able to hide behind the anonymity of the internet. I get threats all the time. They’re not real.”
“So you’ve said. But your family’s own security staff’s analysis deemed this one more valid. Elite agrees.”
She blinked. “My family’s security staff? They have nothing to do with me. I told my parents long ago I didn’t want them trailing after me.” Her chin came up. “And I don’t want you.”
He couldn’t help it, he grinned at her. “I’ve been told that before.”
“I’m sure you have,” she said tartly.
“Not usually by a beautiful woman, though.”
She ignored the compliment and stared at him a moment before saying, as if she were merely pondering the question, “At what point, do you suppose, does self-confidence become arrogance?”
He smothered another grin. He was starting to like the way she talked. But he answered her with dead seriousness, “At about the same point someone decides that just because she says so, her loving parents will stop worrying and looking after her.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and something flickered in the dark brown. They really were amazing, those eyes. Deep. Endless.
She let out a long audible sigh. “Point taken, Mr. Colton.”
She’d surprised him now. Apparently, the loving in the Hart family went both ways. He filed away the knowledge that he was already certain would be a key weapon in the battle to keep her safe.
That the battle would mostly be with Ashley herself, he already knew.