Page 43 of Code Violation

He could feel Nero staring at him. “Dude, I am sure Librarian Fernsby—who seems to take his job very seriously, from what I can tell—already knows what you called Agatha Steel back in the day. Especially since he’s lived here for years.” He tapped his forehead. “Librarians are observant and smart.”

“Fuck, you’re right. I didn’t know Fernsby grew up here. Still,” Forrest said, swinging a right after the town’s single stop light, “let’s just play innocent.”

“Has that ever worked for you?” Nero teased. “Playing innocent?”

“No, it has fucking not,” Forrest complained. “I feel like I deserve some slack.”

There were several parking spots in front of the small library building. Forrest pulled into one and turned off the engine.

“Ready?” Nero asked him.“When we’re done here, we’ll go find Rufus.”

“No, I am not ready. Do you really need me to come inside?” Forrest shot Nero a begging-puppy-dog glance.

“Yep,” Nero said heartlessly as he opened his door and got out. “The quicker we get this part over with, the quicker you’ll see my brake lights heading out of town.”

“You have a point.”

Forrest felt a little twinge in his chest. Did he want Nero to leave? A month ago—hell, four days ago, the answer would have been a resounding, “Yes, and don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.” Things had changed.

With a grumble, Forrest climbed out of the truck and strode around to meet Nero on the sidewalk.

Glancing in Nero’s direction, he sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m ready. Lead the way.”

“Ah. I’m the fall guy, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

Nero smirked at him as they headed toward the small building.

In spite of the economic downturn that Cooper Springs had suffered for decades, the library exterior was reasonably well kept up. The wood siding was in good condition, and the white paint on the windowsills wasn’t peeling. A set of matching flowerpots stood on either side of the doors and currently had cheerful bright yellow daffodils blooming in them.

“Somebody’s got to do it,” Forrest muttered.

“What?”

“Be cheerful.”

“What? Never mind. So,” Nero said, leading the way up the steps to the library’s front door, “whose idea was it to change out the magazines? Yours or your friend Xavier’s?”

“Shhh! Don’t speak of it,” Forrest hissed dramatically, looking over his shoulder as if Nero might have accidentally summoned a demon.

Rolling his eyes, Nero pulled open the door and gestured for Forrest to go ahead of him. Forrest’s mouth dropped open, but it was too late for him to step to the side since others had followed them up the sidewalk.

“You’ll pay for this, Vik,” Forrest said out of the side of his mouth as he walked past.

Nero held the door open for a mom, a young child, and a toddler before catching up to Forrest in the foyer.

“So much drama. Have you always been this dramatic? And why do I think the answer is yes?”

“I was a traumatized child,” Forrest protested.

“Huh,” Nero grunted. “I suspect you would have been dramatic whether or not you’d spent the first six years of your life growing up in the woods.”

Forrest admitted that Nero likely wasn’t wrong, just not out loud.

The two of them approached the checkout desk. The person behind the counter was no one Forrest recognized. He did his best to appear nonchalant and harmless—nothing to see here. The mom and her two kids walked by them and headed to the children’s reading area.

“Hi,” Nero greeted the man with a smile. “May I speak with Mr. Fernsby?”

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