Page 38 of It'll Always Be Her

At least, that was what was supposed to happen. He hadn’t expected to be dealing with a chemical reaction that had nothing to do with substrates and everything to do with desire and outrightlike.

“We keep the old card catalogs down here.” Bee led him down a very narrow staircase to the basement, which consisted of a large room with several doors leading to storage areas. “We have an online inventory and check-out system, but we still use the card catalogs as a backup since the Wi-Fi is spotty.”

She indicated the huge cabinets with the little drawers designating the library’s inventory. In addition, the room was filled with a bunch of other stuff—chairs, desks, piles of magazines, old posters, and rolling carts. Adam shined his flashlight beam around, assessing the feasibility of getting a camera down here for some shots of Clyde “investigating.”

“Those furnishings and items used to belong to the Gardenia House.” Bee walked toward an adjoining room and pushed open the door. “The Historical Museum has wanted to catalog everything, but again, money is a problem.”

The smaller room was cluttered with dusty, antique furnishings—an old velvet sofa, several tables and chairs, a globe, parts of a four-poster bed, a glass-fronted display case, and an old mirror. It was like Grandma’s attic.

“Do you know everything that’s here?” Setting his flashlight down, Adam picked up a portrait stacked beside the wall with several other framed paintings.

“I’ve inventoried some of it,” Bee said. “The Historical Museum already has the valuable items, but there’s still work to do. That’s Captain Marcus’s eldest brother.”

Adam brushed the cobwebs off the portrait of an unsmiling bearded man and set it back against the wall. “So no one thinks any of the other family members are haunting the library?”

“Captain Marcus is the only one who’s ever been seen or heard, though I suppose that doesn’t mean more ghosts aren’t here.” Bee started toward another door bearing a plaque that readArchives. “The historical documents and photographs are kept here. Eventually, I’d like this whole area to be dedicated to archival research, but again, we just don’t have the budget for that kind of renovation. Is it okay if I turn the lights on?”

“Sure.”

She flipped the switch by the door. The archive room was stuffed full of cabinets, open shelves lined with boxes and leather-bound journals, and a desk with a green-shaded lamp. In contrast to the rest of the library, everything was haphazardly organized with piles of old books and ledgers stuffed onto the shelves in no apparent order.

“When I started working here, one of the things I wanted to do was catalog all of this and ensure everything was stored according to archival standards.” Bee shook her head, regret darkening her eyes. “But then Pearl retired, and I had neither the time nor the budget. I did manage to organize a lot of it in chronological order, but none of it is stored properly. I petitioned for a temperature-control system so the materials wouldn’t degrade so fast, but it was cost-prohibitive. Something to do with the old ventilation system of the house.”

“Could you move it all to the Historical Museum?”

Bee shook her head. “They don’t have the space.”

“Aside from John’s letters and diaries, what other documents are stored here?”

“Ledgers, business reports, papers related to the founding of Bliss Cove.” Bee opened one of the cabinet drawers to show him the piles of documents—all on thick sheets of paper or vellum, the black writing marching across the pages like rows of soldiers. “There’s a lot of correspondence between John and his brothers, and a whole cabinet of papers about his business and ship purchases. He was very thorough in his documentation. And this section contains hundreds of photographs of Captain Marcus and his family.”

Though Adam’s life had been about hard-core science, he’d also always liked history. And the library archives probably contained the history of the entire town.

“Do you mind if I look through all of this?” he asked, indicating both the archives and the storage room. “We might be able to use some of it in the shoot.”

“Feel free. If you handle the photographs, though, just use the gloves over there.” She gestured to a box of white gloves sitting on the desk, then glanced at her watch. “You can take pictures, but don’t use the flash. I plan to do some research later, but first, I need to feed Puffalump, and then I’ll probably have dinner. The break room and kitchen are on the south side of the main floor. Just text me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

He watched her leave, unable to keep his gaze from her perfect round ass. Telling himself to stopnoticingher so much, he turned back to the cabinets.

After pulling on the gloves, he examined several of the documents—registration papers, articles of incorporation, bills of sale. An entire storage cabinet was dedicated to personal correspondence between John Marcus and his brothers, business partners, and other family members.

Adam skimmed his gaze over the letters before taking out his phone. He snapped shots of John’s signature and some of the writing. They could use a track shot across the pages to help bring John to life and establish him as a real historical figure.

He opened the drawer of photos, which proved to be a treasure trove containing jumbled piles of old images. He studied the photos of John Marcus and an array of other people who were identified on the labels as being his brothers and their wives.

There were photos of children, all with serious expressions and dressed like miniature adults, and several older men and women labeled as the senior family members.

One of the photos was of a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, wearing a high-necked Victorian gown with ruffles down the front. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head, with little curling wisps framing her face.

She was pretty, but she caught Adam’s attention because she was smiling. Not a tight little close-lipped smile either—she was smiling wide enough to show her white teeth, and she almost looked as if she were about to burst out laughing. Her large brown eyes twinkled with amusement.

He turned the photo to see if it was labeled on the back with her name, but the light pencil marking only saidUnidentified Woman, 1893.

Adam put the photo back in the drawer, faceup, and took a picture of it. He took a few more of the Marcus brothers and their families, taking care to return the photos to their original locations.

Clunk.

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