Page 81 of Booked for Theft

“Want to come steal shit out of Mrs. Hampton’s safe, Beatrice?”

“Do I ever. We’ll let the men have a play date and look at sporty cars. Mickey wants one, and Bradley offered to help do a used car search for a starter baby.”

Uh oh. “Beatrice, you know that’s code for finding a fixer upper that will cost more than a new sports car, right?”

She nodded, and her expression turned to one of despair. “He’s going to spend every spare cent on his new vehicular child.”

“It could be worse,” I reminded her.

“I’m not sure how.”

“He could want to collect actual children.”

“He does, though. He’s almost as bad as you are.”

Well, she was doomed, but until she came to terms with her status as a future beleaguered parent, I’d sympathize as much as I could. I hoped to be in those shoes eventually. “The vehicular child is much cheaper than the human child.”

“I keep telling myself that, but what will happen when we have the human children?” Beatrice sighed. “Our wallets already weep.”

“He won’t be able to repair his vehicular child as often as he would like. Alternatively, he can launch attacks on Bradley’s wallet to purchase parts so they can have play dates together. Mickey would be providing the vehicle to play with, Bradley would provide the parts so they can play.”

Beatrice’s expression brightened. “That’s actually fair, isn’t it?”

“It is. Both men are contributing to the fun time, so if Mickey can get the old banger, Bradley can help pay for the repairs since he’s getting good entertainment value out of it.” I regarded the door, which Gabby had cracked open. “What if there are mice in there?”

Shaking her head at my question, Gabby shoved open the door before replying, “I can almost promise there will be mice, rats, and other critters. Most of the windows are broken.”

“This sucks.” As time wasted, I stepped into the warehouse, armed myself with a flashlight, and took stock of the waiting disaster.

Sure enough, animals had nested in the place, and a few raccoons hissed at me before fleeing into the haphazard pile of boxes. As suspected, someone had been in the building before, and some boxes no longer had lids. I leaned inside to check the nearest pile by the door, discovering the campaign had used enchanted bankers boxes meant to protect the contents from pests.

Fortune favored us. “Gabby, are the charms still active on the box?”

The woman reached out, touched the closest box, and narrowed her eyes. “Yes, the magic is still working, although it’s fading. Given another two or three weeks, and I think the pressure from the local residents would shatter the enchantments.”

Excellent. We’d beaten a timer we hadn’t known existed. “Then let’s get this shit out of here and bail. Beatrice, look for anything interesting while I get our false documents. I’ll do most of the hauling, you can use your brain and see if you can cherry pick any good information for us. Try to pick two boxes, and Bradley and I will take those into our condo to start evaluating them.”

“What do you want me to do?” Bradley asked, and he raised a brow at me.

Right. I had a fiancé, and he was following me along. “Look pretty while us ladies do the hard work.”

“So help me, Mickey, if you aren’t covered in sweat from hauling boxes by the time we get home…” my best bitch warned.

Like Bradley, my fellow librarian eyed his fiancé with a rather displeased expression. “Or what?”

“I won’t have to take your clothes off and make certain every inch of you is squeaky clean.”

Mickey bailed out of the building as though all the demons of hell chased after him.

“I think he’s getting the better end of this deal,” Bradley muttered.

Men. “If you want to get sweaty in hopes of help showering when we get home, I’m not going to stop you.”

With hundreds of bankers boxes waiting for us to sort through, we’d need to bust ass if we wanted to finish before the illusions needed to be renewed. I opted for efficiency, joining Beatrice in checking the box for labels before cracking it open and examining the first few papers on top.

As promised in the note left within the pages of Schindler’s Ark, the warehouse truly contained every piece of paperwork from Senator Maybelle’s campaign. From staffer dossiers to campaign funders, government notices, and even copies of bills, we had a fortune in knowledge to work with—knowledge that couldn’t bite anyone in the ass. Well, anyone living.

Senator Maybelle might end up being a sacrifice for the general good of the people, depending on what we found within the records, but I understood the risks Representative Forsythe had taken tipping me off on the location of the warehouse and precious sheets.