In his Groverly office, Detective Jamison checked the hot line for rare books to see if there were any rumors about a stolen book belonging to the Jardin family. The experts he’d contacted verified that book theft cases were usually solved when a sale was in progress. All he had were names on a log from the library’s Special Collections Room, people who might be suspected of stealing the book, who might be waiting for the opportunity to cash in.
Plus Lily McFae, in charge of that special room, the person who’d arranged the book exhibit. Her straightforward face stared at him from the duplicate driver’s license he’d ordered.
The sergeant stood in the doorway. “As requested, I’ve collected and listened to the tapes from the bugs at the Emporium and the Used Stuff Store in Nolan.”
“Give me a rundown.”
“As you know, Boris Ratchov deals in X-rated DVD rentals, tattoos, herbal products and antique swords. He’s been operating the store for about a year and a half, after a death in the family, but it looks legitimate. The Used Stuff Store in Nolan is just as it appears, a second hand shop. The brother and sister who run it have been in business there for a number of years. Their parents owned it and they inherited.” The sergeant handed over the transcripts.
“You’ll have some questions, though, about conversations with a certain Lily McFae. With Ratchov, it concerns ‘a transaction’ and ‘highly regarded old books.’ With Maxine Morton, it’s also about books.”
“I see.” The detective drummed his fingers on the desk. “As a matter of fact, she is also under investigation.” He remembered her sudden departure.
“Another conversation of interest was Ratchov’s conversation with a man named Griffo Verkie. They talked about ‘a treasure’ and ‘a book.’ Verkie lives a couple miles outside Nolan on a goat farm.”
“From what I know, he’s not in residence at the moment. Leave the tapes.”
The detective listened to the latest cell phone taps, including an excited call from Griffo, regarding the stolen credit card of Lily McFae.
On the tapes, he heard Boris at the Emporium with Lily and then, Maxine talking to Lily at Used Stuff. Damnable woman. Her shadow passed across several areas of concern. The Neubland salesman was not included in any conversations.
The detective needed to know more about all of them, but he noted several of the conversations included Boris.
Dressed in khakis and a cotton shirt, Hugh Jamison returned to the Emporium in Nolan. He ignored the X-rated DVD display and sifted through a bin of imported twig tea packets. “Boris, is it?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
He leaned down to sniff some aging star anise. “Strong odor, that. You know, I keep hearing interesting things about your shop.”
“What do you mean?” Boris asked.
“Your store, it’s off the beaten path and there’s that certain herbal smell in the air.” Jamison lowered his voice, “I was hoping to score a little smokeable herb, if you know what I mean?”
“Sorry. Today, I can rent you a hot movie or give you a tattoo.” Boris squinted his eyes and his cheek scar stood out. “But who knows about next week? You know, with my contacts up north.”
“I didn’t think you were a small town kind of guy. Where you from?”
“Do we know each other?”
Jamison shook his head. “No, just heard talk about you.”
Boris stacked DVDs. “I’m from lots of places. Just call me a traveler.”
“Then call me a collector. I’ve also heard you dabble in other valuables.”
Boris’s face lit up. “Who knows what lurks behind my doors and drapes?” He pointed to the curtain on the tattoo room. Or what I might be selling?”
“Since I can’t make a score today, any rare books?”
Boris turned away. “Sorry, nothing to offer there. Totally out of my area of interest. But stop back in a few days if you’re still interested in the pot.”
The detective stood by the cash register and let his hand slip under the edge of the counter to check on the bug, still firmly attached. He sidestepped a display of dried alfalfa bags on his way to the door.
“Let’s just say that on the chance you find a supply, or hear of someone who’d help me find a certain book, I’ll come back. There’s considerable money involved, so perhaps a rare volume will show up.”
The muscles around Boris’s mouth tightened ever so slightly. “Your chances are slim there. Not even a book store in town. What does that tell you?”
“One never knows.” The detective nodded and left.
In the salon, Piper’s eyes were glued to the pages of Boswell.
“I went to Louisa’s in full expectation of consummate bliss…”
She drank deeply from her coffee mug and sighed over the words, “slipped into bed and was immediately clasped in her snowy arms and pressed to her milk-white bosom.”
The words cut deep as the writing intensified her craving for Freddie. She tried to think of an excuse to stop by the garage, get a hug and start a conversation, but couldn’t think of a way to start that first sentence. Erotica wasn’t helping her state of mind, just magnifying it.
She put down the book and decided to clear out her mom’s boxes in the storage room. The one marked “very personal” had always tempted her. Today, she cut the tape, folded open the cardboard top and pulled out familiar clothes. Wild print scarves, out-of-style blouses and peasant skirts. A slinky jersey and some slingback pumps her mom wore when she went out on Saturday night. Piper took the lid off an empty perfume bottle and breathed in. The scent turned her into a little girl again, curled up in her mom’s arms, inhaling the heavy fragrance that made her drowsy. She sighed and looked in the bottom of the box. A long, narrow package was all that was left. She pulled out the sealed box still in original wrapping and read the label.
ECSTACY VIBRATOR. Does not only what, but when a lady wishes. Settings, high, low and in between for added control. Pulsing RPM’s to guide your waiting body to indescribable pleasure.
She wrinkled her nose and slowly tore off the cellophane. Cautiously, she opened the top and took out the slender stick modeled from nature. She read the print on the box. Waterproof. Seven multi-speeds for personal massage. Batteries not included. She reached up to the supply shelf and after inserting double AA’s, listened to the soft low hum of the stick, a throaty noise of something familiar. “Oh, that’s weird. It sounds just like my blender.” Bit by bit, she ripped up the packaging. Grabbing the vibrator, she marched from the storage room and tossed it in the waste basket. Even with only the handle sticking out from the crumpled papers, its prominence disturbed her. She lifted it with care and set it in the drawer, hidden among the curling irons.
The phone ring startled her, and she was surprised to hear Aggie.
“It’s me and I’m at odds out here on the farm. Maybe it’s too soon, but I think it’s time to meet. I’m coming into town. Want to join me at the bookmobile?”
“Be there with bells on.”
Lily sat reading in the seating area. She looked up when the door opened and Piper and Aggie appeared. “Oh, come in, come in. I’m so glad to see you. I wanted to tell you there may be a story about the bookmobile in The Groverly Gazette. A young reporter interviewed me, but we’ll see if the story makes the paper. I didn’t give your names or mention the club.”
Aggie carried in a bag with tea supplies. “A story may bring you more book renters.”
Piper flopped down. “Yeah, publicity’s a good thing.”
Aggie arranged the cups on the table. “I have another surprise for us at home, but it’s not for today. When the time is right, I’ll bring it.” She poured. “It’s a book I found at Used Stuff, more for pleasure than erotica.”
Once more, the fizzy green liquid set them free. One. Two. Whee.
Aggie gestured toward the flower in her buttonhole. “I wore this monarda today as a flower of love. Cim planted our yard with beds of them, so the monarchs would visit whenever they passed through. Mostly, the flowers attract bees. That’s why some call the monarda by another name, bee balm.”
“Freddie never brought me flowers, but he gave me a pack of wildflower seeds once. Gas company sent them out free. Still, that should count for something. He’s really a good guy.” Her voice cracked. “I wonder if I’m being fair.”
“Men flourish like determined seeds inside our minds, don’t they?” Aggie refilled everyone’s cup.
“And so hard to weed out.” Piper rubbed her temple.
The three women drank their green potion in silence, reeling inside from the tea.
“Yes. Men.” Suddenly, Lily stood up and moved to the closet. “I have a flower story too, about a serious romance I had with a man who never brought me flowers. When I finally mentioned it, he brought me a bouquet of red roses on my birthday. I set the vase on the kitchen table, so we’d see it at breakfast. The next morning after a very, uh, torrid evening, I went into the kitchen to make coffee. On the table, where there’d been red roses, now there were white ones. I almost cried. He came up behind me and whispered in my ear, “You waited so long for me to bring you a bouquet, I thought you deserved a miracle.”
Piper gave a huge sigh. “Oh, that’s the most romantic thing.”
“A gypsy would say, that’s real magic,” Aggie said. “What happened to him?”
“He was transferred overseas and we lost touch. Ladies, I have a reminder. You haven’t picked a book to read yet.” Lily brought out volumes to set before them. “Here are some others to consider. Did you have a chance to read anything from the books I lent you?”
Aggie shook her head. “Not really.”
Piper nodded. “Just a page or two. That Boswell guy’s kind of a skunk.”
“Then, browse through these.”
“Why don’t you read us a spicy selection of something? And if we like it, that will be the book we choose,” Piper said.
Lily let her forefinger play along the covers. She stopped at a deep maroon book with a filigree design. “Let’s try Candide, a classic among classics. I’ll read a random selection and you decide yes or no.” She paged through and then stopped.
“What’s it about?” Piper asked.
“It’s a series of adventures of several people. In this part, women have been captured by pirates. I’ll read something in the middle.” The women leaned forward when she read, “‘they were immediately stripped stark naked, my mother, our ladies in waiting–’”
“Whoa, did you say stripped?” Piper said. “I’m going to pretend her mother wasn’t there.”
“I believe she said ‘stark’ too,” added Aggie.
Lily drank a sip of lively liquid. “Yes, the very words, stripped stark naked.”
“Let’s take a minute to think about that.” Aggie finished her tea. In the stillness of her mind, she pressed against Camlo’s hard body. Naked, under the moonlight, she felt him strong against her. “I might need at least two minutes,” she said.
Piper poured herself another dram and imagined Freddie slipping the silky teddy over her head and tossing it to the floor. “Yeah, at least two.”
Lily daydreamed of meeting a man in the library. But then it turned into a sailing ship. And his coat was rough against her exposed skin. A man whose name she didn’t even know.
After a while, she picked up the book. “Now, let me continue,
‘It was wonderful how quickly these gentlemen can strip people; but what surprised me more, was that they put their fingers–’”
“Wait. Wait,” Aggie said.
Lily stopped.
Aggie sighed. “I’m not sure about hearing the exact wherefores of where the men looked next.”
Lily’s voice was low. “Oh, it just goes on to say -
‘They wanted to make sure we had not hidden any diamonds there.’”
Piper giggled. “Blush to tell you, but been there, done that, without the jewelry. Boy, sorry ladies, this tea makes me really chatty.”
“Let me read on.” And Lily continued with the passage, with her listeners thinking of the men in their lives. Instead of following along with Voltaire, they thought of eyes crinkled with laughter, chiseled noses and tender fingers, tan muscled arms, firm abdomens, tight buns.
The session left them satisfied with recollections. Smiles played at the corners of their mouths. And as erotic triggers swept through their veins, their cares and wrinkles disappeared.
“Aggie, your tea exhilarates.” Lily stretched her arms and waved them above her head.
“I need to move.” Piper leapt up. “What say we adjourn to the Hopper? There’ll be real men to watch there. Good looking, drinking men. We’ll pick our book next time.”
“Well, okeydokey.” Aggie bounced up from her seat. “But I don’t watch men much. Haven’t in a long while.”
“Hold on a minute.” Lily grabbed another book and her half-full cup of tea. “While we study the males on tap, we can analyze erotica from a different point of view.”
The women tripped out of the bookmobile and into the bar. They gravitated to a table in back. As they settled in, they listened to the cable weatherman give his report on the huge bar TV screen.
“In India, purple rain is falling from the sky. In other parts of the world, downpours are reported in shades of scarlet, green, yellow, brown and black. What causes these colors? Scientists maintain it’s the presence of sand, pollen, dust, soot or other impurities.”
Aggie sighed. “Gypsies would say this rain of many colors is meant to reveal the mysteries of the universe.”
“And those who value knowledge and imagination might say that all opinions are possible.” Lily noticed a tall man enter and sit in a far corner. Their eyes locked. He wore a brown tweed jacket. She imagined the touch of his hand. His body close. She shook her head as her stomach flipped over. His mesmerizing stare caught her again and held her. Made her forget to breathe.
Piper waved at Jeremy, and he hustled up for their drink order. “Ms. McFae, did you see my nephew’s story on your bookmobile?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll get you a copy.” He looked at Piper. “What’ll you have? I saw you waving.”
“Oh, just waving hello. This is an unofficial meeting of the Erotica Book Club. Oops, shouldn’t have mentioned that.” She looked around. “Too bad Freddie isn’t here. He’s my most sexy guy. But you know, Jeremy, you’re not half bad.”
“Had a few already, Piper?” The bartender smiled, then worked his way through the tables.
“Good rear quarters.” Aggie grinned. “I believe I’m getting the hang of this. I deliver goat milk to Jeremy every week, and I never noticed his backside.”
“Indeed, he appears to be a fine specimen of the masculine gender.” Lily finished her cup of lively tea and her eyes strayed to the tall man in the corner. His face was tanned. His dark hair with a touch of gray was cropped neatly around his ears. When he looked her way, she blushed and his mouth turned up at the corners. She picked up the book she’d brought along. She picked up the book she brought along and stroked the cover.
Piper cleared her throat. “There’s something I’ve been dying to ask you two.” Her voice rang out. “What do you know about vibrators?”
Lily looked over at the next table. Sax had stopped talking to hear the answer to the question. Boris adjusted his chair and Maxine smirked.
Aggie knocked on the table three times. “Gypsies vibrate enough on their own.”
“As do librarians, to the surprise of some, so I’m not much help either, but I could look it up for you.” She opened the book she’d carried in and ruffled through the pages. “I brought Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”
“So what’s Jane got to say for herself?” Piper said.
Lily gave a fleeting look toward the profile of the man she’d been watching. He was standing still, and the image of his lithe, attractive frame thumped against her midsection. “She says that to be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love. Think of couples dancing, the rhythmic coupling to music.”
“Coupling, that’s a good way to put it.” Piper gazed at the bar crowd.
Another glance at the tall fellow made Lily weak inside. “She also says A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.” Does that sound right?”
“For some women, I guess the answer would be yes.” Piper said. “I wanted to get married.”
Aggie winked and grinned. “Oh, there are gypsies I’ve known that took their time deciding.”
“Well I say, cheers to all those dancers falling in love.” Piper jiggled her shoulders. “Dancing can be very sexy.”
One table over, Sax inched closer. Lily gave a little wave toward him, and he waved back. She smiled at the strange bulbous flower tattooed on his inner arm, a work of art obviously handcrafted by Boris.
Lily watched the stranger start toward them, then turn and walk out of the bar. “Anyone else feel overheated?”
“Oh no, I feel very and most fine.” Aggie waved at someone on the other side of the bar.
Piper wiggled in her chair. “Too bad we can’t go dancing. I feel like swaying and moving and loving someone who shall be nameless.”
“I haven’t been this warm in a long time.” Lily fanned her face with the book. “Did you see that good looking man watching us?”
“I didn’t notice,” Piper said. “I was thinking of my favorite fella, who’s not here. He could raise my thermostat a few notches. Actually, now that you say it, I believe there are quite a few guys watching us. Maybe more men are interested because now we’re lots better looking.”
“Do you think that’s true?” Aggie looked carefully around the room.
“Buy you pretty ladies a beer?” Boris held up his mug.
“No thanks, we are sufficiently fortified with tea.” Piper lifted her cup. “And feeling f-f-f-fantastic.”
Earlier, Hugh Jamison had put down the phone, after hearing the goat farm tap and the women’s arrangement to meet at the bookmobile. “It’s time,” Aggie had said. Time for what, he wondered and left for the town square in time to see two women enter the bookmobile. Not long after, three women left and entered the Hopper.
Following them, he noted that one woman closely resembled the driver’s license photo of the ex-librarian, but was much prettier, with wisps of auburn hair framing her face. She looked younger, wearing jeans and a bright pullover. The stern Lily McFae on the official driver’s document did not seem to be present. A likely guess was that the two were related. Sisters? Cousins?
No question, he’d enjoyed the scene of her reading at the bar, her graceful hands and lively, dark eyes. When his body tightened in a healthy reaction, he’d ordered another tap to study her, this person who elicited a response that got him flustered. He’d started toward the table to question the group and then stopped. It was not the way he usually went about business. Generally, he needed more information and a quiet place to pursue detailed questioning. Besides, the librarian wasn’t with them. He’d glanced toward the pretty woman one more time before he left, troubled by his confused feelings.
The middle-age woman in a gray windbreaker limped into the office of the Groverly automobile auction house and leaned on the counter. “Maybe you can help me. I’m trying to find an orange bookmobile you auctioned off for the county. You happen to know where it is.”
The clerk grinned. “Oh yeah, I remember that vehicle. A woman bought it.”
“Wonder if she’d sell it back to me. Can you give me her name and address?”
“Guess I could, since it’s a matter of public record. Save you a trip to the court house.” He went to the files and came back in a few minutes. “Lily McFae lives here in the city. The Groverly Gazette just did a little feature on her and her bookmobile.”
Griffo drove toward Nolan, hauling the vardo behind him. Bits of green salve covered his irritated expression. As the miles zoomed by, he plotted against the woman called Lily McFae. Whenever he thought about the purple sapphire scammed off him by the lady in green, he boiled over. It was the first time he’d been bested by anyone, let alone a woman.
Hugh compiled the information on his conversation with Boris about the sale of pot, including the grassy, earthy smell of the Emporium. The report also added a report on Boris’s phone talks with book theft suspects. He carefully worded his search warrant request for the store.
Before he turned off his computer, he double-checked for any sign of a relative for Lily McFae. None existed. As past experience proved, sometimes relations appeared out of nowhere.