Page 109 of Reading Between the Lines
“All I hear is maybe, maybe, maybe. We don’t have proof. We need proof.” Proof could solve the case. Delaney would have the answers she was looking for, her son could rest in peace, and with luck, I’d be able to avoid filing bankruptcy.
“We’ll find proof.” Tallus dramatically shoved his half-full plate aside. “To the library, Batman.”
I tried not to smile at his eagerness. “Finish your fucking breakfast because if you don’t, you’ll be hungry in an hour, and I’m not listening to you whine.”
What Tallus had adamantly avoided bringing up that morning was the fact that someone out there didn’t want their secret to be discovered. Whether the fire had been set to erase evidence or do away with Tallus, we didn’t know.
Considering someone had dropped a tree on me not two days ago, I tended to think it was the latter. Which meant someone was watching us. Someone knew we were getting close. Someone’s livelihood felt threatened.
We needed to stay vigilant.
***
The Port Hope Public Library was located on Queen Street. The building seemed modern but was constructed with a historic feel that fit the town’s ambiance. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d graced a library, but the interior felt small compared to the ones from my memories. Of course, Port Hope was not Toronto.
Tallus made friendly with the lady behind the counter, asking if they had copies of Ambrose Whitaker’s books and, if so, where we might find them. The woman directed us to a fiction section and pointed out the area.
“We seemed to have,” she counted, “seven of his books. I’m not sure how many this author has out, but if there is one in particular you’re looking for that we don’t have, let me know, and I can try to order it.”
Tallus thanked her and stacked all seven novels into his arms the second she was gone. “Over here,” he said, marching off to a table in an alcove.
He dumped the stack on its surface and pulled out a chair. “For the record. I’m a tragic academic. I faked my way through college. I love reading about as much as I love cardio. My glasses always gave the impression of high intelligence, but I’m a fake through and through, so bear with me, and no judging.”
“Your glasses make you look sexy, not smart.”
“Aww, thank you, Guns, but your assessment hurts a little. Plus, can we not mention the recently deceased. I’m still sad.”
“You’re sexy without them too.”
“Still sad.”
I was partial to the come-fuck-me glasses. Since day one, they’d made me weak in the knees. It hurt my soul to hear of their fate at the hands of a cabin fire. Tallus wasn’t kidding whenhe said he broke them every few months. This was the fourth time since I’d met him, and we’d only known each other for a year.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
I pulled out a chair and joined him.
“It seems we have seven of the eight books in his series. His other books were earlier publications, and I’m less suspicious of them. These are the ones with the uncaught killer.” He shuffled them around, putting them in order of release.
“Okay,” he said after excessive tongue clucking. “I’m going to give you a breakdown of each book. After, we’ll see if we can find similar cases in Southern Ontario that match. I know that’s a vast geographical area, but we shouldn’t limit ourselves to the Port Hope region since it’s so small.”
“You’re awfully bossy for someone who hasn’t finished their PI training.”
“Shut up, Guns. It’s the reading thing. Loathe, remember? Despise. Every synonym for hate there is. Besides, you like me bossy.”
I did, and I made sure my expression told him so.
Tallus blew me a kiss and drew the first book forward.
He read blurbs and skimmed pages, giving details he thought seemed important. Most locations were fictitious, but geographically, since the books were all set in Ontario, the fake towns and cities seemed to line up with real ones.
It was a slow process, so I joined the hunt, snagging a different novel to investigate.
I didn’t tell Tallus we could have gotten all this information online and with greater ease because I needed a break. I was tired and aching from head to toe. The library was as good a place as any to work, considering we didn’t have an office. Plus, encouraging Tallus to slow down and think was imperative. He tended to go off half-cocked the second he thought he had thingsfigured out, and PI business required less spontaneous action and more confirmation of facts.
It took hours to go over each plot without actually reading the books. By the time he closed the last one, he sighed. “There’s one more in the series that the library doesn’t seem to have.The Crimson Veil.”
“This is a good start.”
