Page 90 of Perfectly Complicated
“Good point. Knowing Mr. Marco, he probably has multiple libraries.”
We’re heading down an oak-paneled hallway when Leo and Victoria come barreling out of a door, appearing slightly traumatized.
“Don’t go in there,” Leo warns.
“What’s in there?” Janie asks.
“Dead animals,” Victoria says weakly. “So many dead animals.”
“With eyes that follow you,” Leo adds with a shudder as they head in the opposite direction.
We skip the taxidermy room and check a half-dozen other rooms without any luck before stumbling into a private library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the walls, along with rolling ladders, oversized armchairs, and a massive fireplace.
“This is incredible,” Janie murmurs, spinning around to take it all in. She sinks dramatically into one of the cushy chairs and kicks her heels up with a grin. “How do I look, Riley?”
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, my gaze tracing over her. In that gown, she’s absolutely stunning. “Like the kind of distraction that’s going to make me forget we’re supposed to be winning something.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Riley, you’d never let yourself forget acompetition.”
“I would if it means I get to keepyouall to myself tonight.” I stride over to her and brace my hands on either side of the chair, leaning down until she has to tilt her face up. “I’ll throw the scavenger hunt right now, no regrets.”
“You’d lose…on purpose?”
“For you…anything.”
Her mouth opens slightly, but just then, there are voices in the hall, followed by Tate and Lauren bursting through the door.
Tate freezes. “Uh, are we interrupting something?”
“No, of course not,” Janie blurts out. “We haven't found anything in here yet.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Tate says with a smirk. “I think Rourke found exactly what he was looking for.”
I don't move from the chair, holding Janie's gaze for another beat. “Maybe I did.”
A blush spreads across her cheeks, and she finally ducks under my arm, smoothing down her gown when she stands. “We should…um, find the book.”
Lauren immediately starts searching the shelves while Tate makes a beeline for a glass case at the back of the library.
“Hey, Sheriff,” I protest. “I think we get first dibs on searching the room.”
“All’s fair in scavenger hunts and hockey,” Tate says over his shoulder.
I signal for Janie to help me search the opposite side. “Let them have that half. There’s got to be more than one book in here that’s older than hockey.”
She stops on a thick leather-clad book that would make a good doorstop. She takes it from the shelf and studies the gold-embossed cover.
“A Complete History of Winter Sport, 1723,” she reads. “When was hockey invented?”
Tate speaks up from the other end of the room. “Hockey wasn’t invented until the 1870s.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.” I give Tate a nod before he and Lauren head off in search of the next item. “We found our book.”
She snaps a picture before I study the next item on the list. “It says here we need a photo of Mr. Marco in a swimsuit.”
“Seriously?” Janie asks. “Do you think he’d have one on display in the house?”
“The man has a closet full of mirrors, so anything’s possible,” I say, heading for the door.
