Page 40 of Booked for Theft

“You can drive the new one once we bring it home.”

“You can’t marry him, Mickey. You’re marrying me, and he’s marrying Janette,” Beatrice announced, and she snickered at her fiancé. “I don’t blame you for feeling that way, though. If we weren’t librarians, we’d probably be just as bad as them.”

I grinned. “You mean as bad as him. I’m a librarian, too! Worse, I’m a gold digger, and I took him out for a ridiculous amount of money for some old books this week.”

“I deliberately lured you to that specific bookstore so you could fall in love with those old books I had decided I would be buying you before we even got there,” he stated with a raised brow.

I huffed, refusing to meet his gaze. “That does not change my status as a gold digger.”

“She’s quite the successful gold digger,” my mother chimed in. “First, she suckered your family out of money for us. Second, she suckered you out of your time to grow our money. Third, she decided to keep you, and once she did so, she refused to accept no for an answer. I have more evidence if you’d like it, Mr. Hampton.”

“I surrender.” Bradley snickered. “Are my parents really glaring at Janette’s SUV?”

“They really are. Your mother wants pancakes, and she’s not having more pancakes because she already had too many. As such, your father is containing her outside until everyone else is done eating. Your father wants to grill you about what you noticed about the Secret Service. I think he wants to try to steal some of their operation methods for his business. Your mother wants to know your general plans, as you began making plans without her.”

Bradley pointed at me. “She might escape if I do not make plans.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t listen to him, Mom.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. I can recognize when children are being silly. I’m going to blame fatigue. Your father had to dump Bradley out of bed this morning to get him up, and you needed a plate of bacon.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“Now that I can believe, and you have to attend a funeral tomorrow from what I understand of the situation. You do not have appropriate attire.”

“I have appropriate attire. Bradley and I went and acquired me three funeral appropriate outfits after we got back from California, one of which is a dress. I’ll be wearing the dress.” I hadn’t enjoyed the outing to buy such apparel, but Bradley had wanted a new suit suitable for such events, and he’d insisted on dragging me along for the ride. “I will not shame myself tomorrow. The dress isn’t even a month old.”

My mother eyed me. “Is it true there’s a dress, Bradley?”

“There is a dress. It’s a floor length, classic and modest in solid black. We won’t discuss the designer, as she’s still in denial that I took her to a boutique of that nature. I enjoyed the process. She did not.”

“That’s acceptable.” My mother shook her head, muttered something, and headed off in the direction of the kitchen.

“I think she wants to go dress shopping, Bradley. We’re already going dress shopping today. As it is, I’m going to have to use that credit card you insist I can use at will to pay for these damned dresses.”

My fiancé snickered. “The credit card will survive the acquisition of attire for the engagement party and the wedding, I’m sure. Now that your mother is out of the way, we should scheme.”

“No,” my father said, glaring at Bradley. “There will be no scheming in my house today.”

“We’re going to be planning elaborate thefts with the use of magic.”

My father spent his time thinking about it, and after a moment, he nodded, got up, and headed for the kitchen. “Keep your trouble to levels you can manage without my help. I’m too damned old for this.”

“I wish I could use that line with any expectation of it working,” I admitted. “I don’t want to be involved with this.”

“Alas, we’re the last bastion of sanity in a world gone mad, which means we have no choice but to deal with it.” Bradley reached over, grabbed my purse from its spot near the couch, and handed it to me. “You should start this show with what you were researching in the restricted access portion of the Library of Congress.”

“I don’t suppose anyone knows the precise date, on the Gregorian calendar, the powers that be decided corresponded with 0 MR?” I asked, digging out my journal and my book pen. “We learned a very important fact in Washington on Friday: the United States has somehow managed to remove all links to the precise year 0 MR is compared to the old calendar. I’m sure it’s registered somewhere, but we don’t have access to that information.”

“I did some preliminary research on the internet, and I quickly discovered that even VPNs will block Americans from accessing any servers that might have that information,” Bradley added. “And yes, I covered my tracks using a burner laptop and phone. The laptop and phone have had all their components destroyed so that they can’t be traced back to me if they are discovered, and they were registered under false names.”

“When did you do that?”

“I stepped out on Friday and bought the phone prepaid using a prepaid card, same with the laptop. I bought enough data and used a VPN to cover my traces long enough to do the search. It took me about forty minutes total, and I used the excuse I was looking for a present for you. Disposing of the laptop and phone was a little trickier, but I managed.”

“How did you destroy the electronics?” I narrowed my eyes, well aware it took a lot of work to make a machine unrecoverable.

“Carefully. It involved a garbage truck with a crusher and some good fortune. I tossed it in while it was starting to crush things, and that was after accidentally spilling some soda on it. Even if someone manages to find the laptop, there’s nothing on it to link it to me.”