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Sometimes he cursed his protective nature. A woman in trouble was his weakness. It had gotten him into predicaments more often than not when he was younger, but he’d managed to curb it since working for Drake. But…there was something about Remy, something that pierced his armor and didn’t bear thinking about.
In what seemed like years later, he picked up the last book off the floor. He’d consumed at least fifteen cups of tea and even eaten cucumber sandwiches without the crust, which he had to admit were quite tasty. Of course, he’d been working non-stop all day, so chances were good eating one of the books off the floor would have tasted delicious.
He stretched his arms over his head and was surprised to see the sun was just setting. He glanced at his watch. Twenty to five. That was it? He would have sworn it was midnight.
“You want tea?” Remy called from the kitchen.
“God, no—, um, no thanks.”
Remy came out of the kitchenette with two tumblers full of amber liquid. “Good, me neither.” She handed him a glass. “Bourbon,” she said and took a sip.
He took a sip and enjoyed the burn that went down his throat. “Thanks.”
She looked at him appraisingly. “Thank you. You stuck it out. I didn’t think you would. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” His shoulder said otherwise, but he didn’t feel the need to share that. He cocked his head. “Where’s Gus?”
“I sent him home a couple of hours ago. You seemed engrossed so he said to tell you it was nice to meet you.”
He nodded and took another sip of bourbon as he leaned against the shelves. He’d been engrossed alright. Trying to avoid looking at Remy’s ass every time she bent over. It had been a losing battle.
He glanced around the store. The pictures that had been on the walls were now on the front counter. Some of them were in need of repair. The shelves in the front were put back together the way they should be and the ones at the back had the books stacked on them at least. All in all, it was a good day’s work.
He said, “I’ve spent the day wondering what they could’ve been searching for and if they found it.”
She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “Searching for? You don’t think this was Patterson just making a mess?” She’d decided earlier that it must be him. Another intimidation tactic.
“No.” He swept an arm around the place. “Whoever did this was definitely after something.”
Her shoulders sagged once more. He was sure she’d been fighting that thought all day. If he were in her shoes, he’d want it to be Patterson, too, because then at least it was a known entity.
She tapped a finger on the glass she held. “Yeah, I know, and I have no idea what.”
“Was your grandfather into anything…sketchy?”
“Sketchy? Are you serious? No! He ran a bookshop. He didn’t even do that much in rare books. He just loved to sit here and read and sell books to other readers.”
And just how did he make enough money doing that? Hawk didn’t say anything, but he was sure Remy’s grandfather had to be into something illegal in order to make ends meet. It didn’t matter that the book shop was in a prime location on the Upper West Side, with the major chain bookstores around and online shopping, he couldn’t imagine that a small bookstore was making that much money. He didn’t have the space to carry all the titles that the big stores did. People didn’t want to wait for things to arrive either. Why order from him when they could get it delivered within two days? Even with loyal customers it would take a hell of a lot of book sales to pay the bills and eat. No, there was something else going on here or, at the very least, her grandfather had an alternate source of cash. Whatever it was, it seemed to be coming back on Remy.
He hadn’t wanted to ask her earlier, and he certainly didn’t have the energy to fix anything now, but he knew it needed to be done. “Did you check out your grandfather’s apartment?”
“No. The tapestry covers the door. It’s still in place, so I assumed it’s all good.”
He grimaced. “Well—"
“What?” she demanded.
He walked to the back corner of the store, and she followed. He pointed to the makeshift curtain. “The bottom is torn.”
All the blood drained from her face, and she swayed on her feet. He reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her.
“I…guess I missed that. Now, I have to go check,” she said, but didn’t move.
“It’ll keep. You’ve had a lot of shocks in the last twenty-four hours. Give yourself a bit of a break.”
She shook her head. “No, I need to know.” She took a bracing swig of her drink and then set the glass down on the shelf. She lifted the horse tapestry to the side and put her hand on the doorknob behind it. She turned the knob and gave the door a shove. It opened. “Fuck,” she said. “That should’ve been locked. They’ve been here as well.”
He wanted to reach out and give her shoulder a squeeze as a sign of support, but he wasn’t sure she’d be open to that. It wasn’t something he normally did, but Remy just seemed so lost, so alone that his protective instincts went into overdrive. He gave himself a mental shake.
