Page 82 of No Escape

“Guys, look for books that are out of place or not shelved,” I called out.

Clarissa walked past me and plopped down onto a couch. “Like these books?” She picked up a stack of three books sitting on the end table. She put them on her lap, opening the first one and flipping through it.

I started looking through the drawer of the other end table.

“These books are written in Latin, too,” Clarissa said. “Might that be important?”

I shut the empty drawer and sat next to her on the couch. I checked out the top book, confirming it wasn’t in Italian. “Father Armando, can you check these books to see if there is any significance to them?”

Father Armando joined us, sitting on the other side of Clarissa. He examined the books and then started looking through them. “They are indeed in Latin. The top one isThe Aeneidby Virgil, the second book isTheDivine Comedyby Dante, and the third isIl Principeby Machiavelli.”

“Well, we already figured out the significance ofThe Divine Comedywith the marble and the cone,” Clarissa said. “These two other books are also written in Latin and penned by famous Italians or Romans.” She took one of the books from Father Armando’s lap. “But there’s no library reference number on the spine of this book. There are on all the other books on the shelves.”

I walked over to the shelves to confirm. Sure enough, all the books had reference numbers on the spines. Impressive. “I think you may be on to something, Mrs. Carmichael.”

“Please, call me Clarissa,” she said.

Lexi’s mom was not only beautiful, but she was observant and clever. My brother would certainly have his hands full with two accomplished women in his life. Now that I thought about it, so would I.

“Maybe those are the lost books you’re looking for,” Stefan offered from across the room.

“Maybe,” I said. “But how do they reshelve the books if they don’t have reference numbers?”

“Let me see if I can find the books listed in the card catalog by title,” Stefan said. “Maybe we can determine where they go.”

“There are signs above some of the sections,” Alessa called out. “That might help. Here’s one that says, ‘World War II History.’”

“There are some signs over here, too,” Winston said from over by the scale. “These two bookcases that flank the scale have signs that say, ‘Roman History and Culture’ and ‘Greek History and Culture.’”

“See if you can find a section called ‘Italian Greats or Masters,’” Stefan called out to us, still rummaging through the card catalog. “I bet that’s where they belong.”

“Found it,” Alessa called out a few seconds later. She pointed to a sign on the second level on the back left wall that said “Italian Masters.”

“Gio, can you check if there are empty spaces for the books to go there?” Stefan asked.

“I can.” I strode over to Alessa and looked up at the sign. “Let me push the ladder over here, and I’ll climb up and see what’s there.”

Father Armando put a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll go. If there are more Latin books, it might be easier for me to figure out where they belong.”

Made sense to me. “Sure.” I pushed the ladder next to the section, made sure it was locked in place, and swept out my hand. “All yours, Father. I’ll spot you at the bottom.”

“Thanks, Gio. I appreciate that.”

“Just don’t break your neck, Father,” Vittoria called out. “Or we’ll never get married before the baby comes.”

Everyone laughed as Father Armando began climbing the ladder. While he began his search, I glanced around the room to see what everyone else was doing.

Winston had wandered over to the display of WWII airplanes. I’d glanced at it earlier, noting there were aircraft from all the major countries that took part in the war. Most of the aircraft were fighters, and the craftsmanship was extraordinary. Clarissa was flipping through the books on the shelves near the scale, presumably looking for hidden compartments in the book covers or spines.

I glanced up the ladder and saw Father Armando surveying the array of books in the section. “Gio, can you move the ladder a little to the left, please?”

“Okay, Father. Hold on.” I released the lock and slowly pushed it to the left until Father Armando told me to stop. “Do you see anything?”

“I do,” the priest said, sounding excited. “I can see gaps where it looks like the three books have been removed. It appears the books have been organized alphabetically by author’s last name.”

I watched as he stretched and slid a book into place. I hoped something would happen, but nothing did.

“On to the next one,” Father Armando said. He found the gap and slid another book into place. Again, nothing happened. “That’s odd. I’m sure these are the right places for the books.”

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