Page 7 of When the Angel Falls First

“Just a little bit of detective work,” he replied casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“A detective? You?” The word slipped from my lips, wrapped in surprise and a touch of disbelief. “Like, a private eye?”

Since when are angels private eyes?

Caleb nodded, a smug smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Yes. Just like the ones in your mystery novels. Some things have changed since the last time we saw each other.”

It was hard not to let my curiosity get the better of me, butI fought it, tamping it down. It wasn’t my right to know anymore. I left Caleb behind when he walked out on me. Or so I told myself.

“And what’s your case today,detective?”

“As a matter of fact, there are two people in here,” he began, nodding toward a man browsing the contemporary fiction section and a woman engrossed in a book of sonnets, “who need to discover each other.”

The statement was as perplexing as it was unexpected. I stole a glance at the pair he was referring to, the wheels in my head beginning to spin. They were as different as night and day— one a casual browser, the other lost in the rhythm of verses.

“So, you’re playing matchmaker in a bookstore? What’s next? A game of Clue in the self-help section?”

He shot me a million-dollar smile and said, “I’m serious. Any ideas on what might help them out?” He remained sincere, perhaps remembering my passion for all things story.

Subconsciously, my hand reached under the counter, fingertips brushing against the worn leather of Caleb’s journal, now my tool, my secret source of wisdom and intuition. The pages fluttered under my touch, whispering ideas and insights.

I felt a shiver of energy, a familiar tingling sensation that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I knew. I knew just what these two needed. I knew the books that would bridge the gap between two souls unknown to each other.

I went to the shelves and pulled a copy of Murakami’sNorwegian Woodfor the man, Anais Nin’sDelta of Venusfor the woman. I couldn’t explain how I knew, but the ink on the pages was insistent. I glanced at Caleb, my smile wry. “Trust me, they’ll thank us later.”

The look on Caleb’s face was a priceless blend of skepticism and intrigue. “Those books for those two?” His browfurrowed in disbelief. I merely shrugged. Guilt niggled at me for not mentioning his book, but now was hardly the time to talk about what he’d left behind.

“Do you trust me?”

He tilted his head in reluctant agreement.

I approached the first member of the unsuspecting couple, my hands carefully cradling the books as if they were fragile birds. “You’ll love this,” I assured the man. “It’ll take you on an adventure you didn’t even know you were looking for.” Then I strutted to the woman. “You really need to give this a try. If I’m wrong, you can bring it back.”

Her smile widened. “That sounds like an excellent deal.” She cocked her head. “Do you do this for all your customers?”

“You’d be surprised,” I said with a wink.

The two approached the counter to pay at the same time, speaking low about the recommendations. They handed each other their book, both eliciting initial surprise that was soon replaced by intrigue as they looked over the covers. As they chatted at the counter, purchases in hand, I couldn’t help but send a triumphant glance toward Caleb.

One point for Josie and the Bookish Cat.

“Miss Ray! I have told you a hundred times already, these cats are a scourge on my property!”

There, framed in the doorway like some gloom-bringing thundercloud, stood Mr. Anderson, my asshole landlord. His watery, squinted eyes immediately fell on Matilda, now lounging nonchalantly on top of a stack of romance novels. “This will not do!” His voice echoed through the store, punctuated by a thunderous sneeze.

Before I could think of a response, Caleb twisted his hand in the air, his fingers tapping out an inaudible rhythm. Almostimmediately, Mr. Anderson’s gruff exterior softened, a puzzled look stealing over his features.

“Actually, I think I forgot something. I need to attend to it.” His words trailed off as he hurried out the door, leaving me staring after him in a wake of bewilderment.

I gawked at Caleb, who lifted an eyebrow in return.

“I tried to explain this to you years ago.”

FOUR

Caleb

“But you just… and he just…”Josie waved toward the door, where her landlord had just abruptly exited, her mouth hanging open like a fish.

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