Page 68 of Booked for Kidnapping

According to their expressions, I had dealt them a cruel blow, and they attempted to stare me into submission.

“We have to come back next week to pick up Bradley’s rings, so if you can get the approval of adult supervision, you may then buy the ridiculously expensive watch. I will call the adult supervision and notify her of this, as there will be no thirty million dollar purchases made at random. The only reason I’m allowing you to get away with that necklace is because it’s a family tradition. If you claim randomly buying a stupidly expensive watch is a family tradition, I will call your adult supervision for confirmation.”

“She really will, Dad.”

“I know she will,” Mr. Hampton muttered, and he sighed, staring at the watch. “But it’s a Patek Phillipe.”

It concerned me he knew who had made the watch at a glance, unless he’d overheard me talking to the woman. “You may come back next week after speaking with an adult, and only after you have obtained forgiveness for your first impulse purchase.”

“Good luck, Dad.” Bradley surrendered and moved off to check the other watches available for sale. “If you don’t pick a watch, I will pick one for you. My favorite librarian deserves a watch.”

I recognized a lost battle when I saw it. “What’s the cheapest watch you sell?” I asked.

The woman chuckled, and she pointed at a corner cabinet featuring more watches. “They’re mostly for children or they’re novelty, but there’s a book-themed watch over there.”

A book-themed watch? I hurried over to where she pointed, discovering a watch depicting an open book with a tasseled bookmark for an hour hand and a feather quill for a second hand. “Oh!”

“This model is quite popular among our reading clients,” she announced with pride. “And you should find the price tag attractive.” She unlocked the case, slipped her hand inside, and turned the price tag so I could see it. $249.99 would buy me the perfect watch. I reached for my purse, but before I could get my hand on my wallet, Bradley took hold of my wrist to deflect me from my mission.

“Hey,” I protested.

“I’ll buy you the watch.”

“I can afford this one.”

Heaving a sigh, Bradley eyed me, eyed the watch, and released me. “I’ll look the other way, because that’s not worth fighting over.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Bradley?” I demanded.

“I just recognize the worst thing I could do for you is take your independence, and you decided you would buy that for yourself.” He smiled, kissed my cheek, and left me to the business of securing my new timekeeper. “But you’re going to have to deal with me buying everything at the bookstore. Dad? Find us an open bookstore. The librarian needs to be rewarded.”

“And a luggage store, to carry everything she buys,” Bradley’s father replied, and he laughed and shook his head. “And you’re going to need a larger house if you want to care for your librarian properly.”

Like hell he did. I had an entire study I could fill with books. Ignoring the insanity seemed safer than participating, so I dug out my wallet, retrieved my bank card, and put it on the counter. “Please take my money.”

“With pleasure,” the woman replied, removing my new watch from the case and guiding me to the register. “Would you like to wear your watch out today?”

“I absolutely would.”

As promised, Bradley and his father took me out for Chinese food and to the bookstore before we headed to the hotel to start making real progress on attempting to sort out the tangled weave of my kidnapping and the murders of unethical politicians out to either enslave or control the populace. Due to time constraints, we didn’t go car shopping, but I didn’t mind waiting.

I wanted to enjoy looking over the vehicles rather than rush.

I also wanted to deal with the memory of Senator Westonhaus telling me the upper echelons of the United States government controlled everything, which nibbled away at me.

Once back in the hotel, I grabbed a piece of paper and began taking notes, starting with the concept the government no longer had a checks and balances system, all politicians followed a precise script, and that all Americans were pawns of some game we didn’t even realize existed.

“Should I be concerned?” Bradley asked, sitting on the floor beside me and digging his laptop out of his briefcase.

“Only if you have a healthy dislike of conspiracy theories.”

“While I have a healthy dislike of conspiracy theories, I have learned reality is a harsh and cruel mistress. Hit me with your best shot.”

“On the way to the restaurant we went to discuss the donation, Senator Westonhaus told me that all politicians of a certain level are essentially inducted into the government system and given a choice: dance to the tune of the established system or find themselves disposed of. Every vote, every piece of legislation brought into law, all of it is predetermined by the top-ranking officials.”

Bradley and his father stared at me through narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know if he was telling the truth,” I stated. “This has just been nagging at me.”