Page 69 of The Executioners Three
“Great.” Theo shook it, his grip firm and fingers cold from the marble. “Then away we go. But hey, watch your step; there’s a loose brick right there.”
The Fortin Prep library looked like every fancy library Freddie had ever seen in photographs. With its gleaming oak shelves and ladders, with its second level of shelves and aisles and polished wood floors, Freddie was both thoroughly in love and also thoroughly intimidated.
In her safety-pinned shirt and hip-hugging khakis, she definitely didn’t belong. Which admittedly, sheliterallydidn’t belong since she wasn’t a student. But she at least wanted to look like she could fit in.
After a single swipe at the library entrance with his key card, Theo led Freddie inside. She hurried after him, wondering how much longer she had until these crickets started singing. As long as Theo was with her, she couldn’t release them.
What a conundrum. And honestly, it was a wonder Theo hadn’t already asked her about her bag. Then again, he seemed preoccupied. That restless energy from Saturday was back, and he kept touching his face. Scrubbing at his hair.
Freddie hardly blamed him. She really wanted to touch his face andscrub his hair too. No human had any right to look that good with a black eye.
A librarian glanced up from a desk at the heart of the room. Theo grinned and waved. “Hey, Mr. Kowalski,” he called before strutting by.
Mr. Kowalski nodded back and after sparing a cursory glance for Freddie, he declared, “No hats in the library!”
“Sorry,” Freddie replied in what she hoped was a very gruff and very manly voice.
Judging by Theo’s smirking side eye, it was not. Fortunately, Mr. Kowalski didn’t notice—nor did he watch them cut down an aisle or see how Freddie left her hat exactly where it had been all along.Nordid he catch sight of Freddie’s oddly shaped bag, which she kept shaking every few steps to ensure the crickets stayed quiet.
Theo led Freddie all the way to the back of the library, to a quiet corner with a low desk as shiny and spotless as every other surface nearby. (Allard Fortin Preparatory School must spend a lot of money on wood polish.)
“Okay,” Theo said, slouching onto the edge of the desk and crossing his arms. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Freddie hesitated. Last night, before bed, she’d worked out an explanation for Theo. Though she didn’t like lying, sometimes a detective really had no choice. After all, Theo was the sheriff’s nephew and Freddie had now been warned by two separate cops not to look into what was happening at the county park.
Of course, Freddie had also not expected Theo to join her here. Her story from last night wasn’t going to cut it as long as he could simply look over her shoulder and see what she was doing.
“Fine,” she said with her most dramatic sigh. She yanked off her cap; her hair tumbled out.
Theo tensed against the table.
“I need access to your newspaper collection. Miss Gupta at the Berm Library said that Fortin Prep had original copies of all the local papers.”
“We do. Why do you need them?”
“I have a report due,” she said, falling back on the same cover story she’d given Mom. Except she improvised: “It’s on unsolved murders from the seventies and eighties. The articles I needed weren’t at the Berm Library, so here we are.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “Why not get a special research permit, then? Why do you need tobreakin?”
“It’s not ‘breaking in’ if someone is giving you their key card. And I need it now because my paper is due tomorrow.”
“Hmmm,” Theo replied, and Freddie could tell he didn’t believe her. But he also—to her shock—didn’t argue. He just straightened and said, “Follow me. And hey,” he added over his shoulder, “put your hat back on. You could kill a guy with that hair.”
He disappeared down a nearby row, leaving Freddie mildly stunned. He had, yet again,maybegiven her a compliment? It certainly felt like one in her chest (which had gone all tingly and goopy).
NO,she reminded herself as she hastily stuffed the cap back over her hair. He was a Montague. His compliments were poison; she needed to keep her eye on the prize.Remember your vow.
A short walk later, Theo paused before an arched doorway that looked Very Gothic Indeed. He swiped his card over a blocky key reader. A lock clicked, Theo swung the door wide, and after holding it open for Freddie, he descended down a brightly lit stairwell. The stairs doubled back once before opening into a large concrete cellar packed with wooden filing cabinets. Row after row spanned for as long as the library above ran.
It was like amuchfancier version of Les Archives.
“Wow,” Freddie breathed. “That’s a lot of newspapers.”
“We have one of the best high school journalism programs in the country,” Theo murmured, almost like a reflex. Then he cocked his chin forward, hair flopping, and said, “Local papers are that way.”
With a surety that spoke of frequent time spent here, Theo led Freddie halfway down the cellar, where he veered right, into a row of more identical cabinets. A desk was wedged between two cabinets, and above it was a recessed window. Morning’s first light trickled in.
He waved to the left. “Berm Sentinelover there.” He pointed toward the window-wall. “The now defunctElmore Gazetteover there. And other nearby periodicals are on the right. It’s all arranged by date, so…” He twirled around to face Freddie—quite graceful. Definitely worthy of the Backstreet Boys.
