“I’m not sure,” said Sadie. “It’s not like a rare map, which can be resold after it’s been cut from an atlas. This is just destruction, like the thief wanted to make a point. It’s almost as if someone is trying to sabotage the exhibit. The folio was to be part of it. Open to this exact page.”
Nick considered her reply before turning to the patron. “Mr. Blount, I’m a security consultant, working for the library. Would you mind emptying your pockets and briefcase?”
“Of course not.”
Mr. Blount opened his briefcase and stepped back as Nick went through it, item by item, flipping through several legal pads filled with notes. Sadie wished more than anything that the missing page would flutter out, anything to have it back. Mr. Blount also handed over his coat and emptied out his pockets. Nothing.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Blount. Please keep this to yourself, and I’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”
After Mr. Blount collected his things and left, Sadie locked the door behind him. She caught Nick’s eye and tipped her head. “How about Claude?”
“How about me?” Claude’s neck turned red with indignation. “How about you?”
“I’ll need to look at each of your desks,” said Nick. In the back office, he started with Sadie’s and, of course, found nothing out of order. Then Claude’s, with both Claude and Sadie peering from behind his shoulder. When he pulled out the skinny drawer at the top, the one that held pencils and pens, Sadie let out a bellow. “Look!”
Nick sifted through the detritus of erasers and nubby pencils. “What?”
She plucked out a small plastic holder. “This!”
“You’re mad,” said Claude, checking in with Nick to make sure he understood how mad she was. “It’s dental floss.”
“Dental floss is a traditional tool of rare map thieves.” She addressed Nick. “They put it in their mouths and get it wet; then, when the librarian isn’t looking, they lay it down on the page they want, right against the binding, and close it back up. After a few minutes, the page slips out easily, and voilà, the job is done. Our map department bans dental floss specifically.”
Claude slammed the drawer shut. “I had work done on my teeth, and the dentist recommended I use it after every meal. I can have him attest to that personally, if need be.”
They glared at each other, at a standoff.
“Why would I try to sabotage the exhibit?” Claude pointed a finger in her direction. “You’ve been out to get me for the past few months. Don’t deny it.”
“I have not.” She didn’t want to get into it, not in front of Nick.
But Claude was incensed, unstoppable. “We kissed once, at a fucking holiday party. Ever since then, you’ve been acting all weird, first happy and then mad, like it was some kind of big deal. It was a stupid, drunken kiss, that’s all.”
She stared at him, mouth open. His male vanity had been shot down when she’d rejected him, and now he was trying to pretend she was some kind of giddy schoolgirl. That was unacceptable. And mean. Her mind raced through responses, but it was as if she’d been rendered mute in front of Nick. Nothing came out.
Claude’s eyes were hard, cruel. “That’s what holiday parties are for, letting your hair down. Although it was obvious you’d never done anything like that in your life.”
He paused, letting the words sink in. “You’re the crazy one, not me. Don’t be putting this on me, no way.”
* * *
Sadie grabbed her jacket from the coat stand in the corner, breathing hard. If she didn’t get out of here, she’d fall apart. Her brain was spinning, shocked by Claude’s disdain and the terrible embarrassment of having had that discussion in front of Nick. Then there was the vandalized book, on top of everything.
But the appearance of Dr. Hooper in the Berg Collection’s main room prevented her from fleeing.
She nonchalantly draped her coat over the nearest chair, as if she hadn’t been running for her life. Nick and Claude joined her as soon as Dr. Hooper’s voice rang out.
“I cannot believe we’re dealing with another theft,” said Dr. Hooper. “This is terrible. Sadie, you were the last one to handle this?”
“I retrieved it from the cage this morning, yes.”
“Did you notice the title page gone?”
“I didn’t check.” It would be lunacy if the librarians had to check every page of every volume requested.
Nick tapped his finger on the desk. His face was a neutral mask, giving no indication of what he’d thought of Claude’s outburst. “What if Mr. Blount stole it and then pretended to find it missing?”
“Either Claude or I have been here, we would have seen it,” said Sadie. “It’s a small room. Any noise or odd movement would have attracted our notice. Especially after the earlier thefts. We’ve been on the lookout, I assure you.”
Even Claude nodded in agreement on that.
“Look.” She addressed Dr. Hooper. “I strongly suggest that we get this out in the world. If you like, I can write up a press release.”
“No.” The syllable erupted from Dr. Hooper, short and sharp. “We’re about to launch a massive capital campaign. The board does not want the fact that we’re losing valuable items getting out, as it might give potential donors pause. It would mar the objective.”
“‘Mar the objective’?” Sadie couldn’t help herself. “Our objective is to be stewards of history, and if things are being stolen, we’re not doing our jobs.”
“You’re not doing your job.” Dr. Hooper stared hard at Sadie, then Claude, then Nick, like they were misbehaving students, before turning on his heel and leaving.
That was enough. Sadie grabbed her coat and left as well, not looking at Claude or Nick. Claude, because she already knew he had a smirk on his face. Nick, because she couldn’t bear to see the look of pity that must be there. Pity at what an ass she’d made of herself, between the Surviving Spinsterhood book, her failure at her job, and that awful showdown with Claude.
She mulled it all over as she headed downtown on the subway, staring at the filthy floor and strangers’ shoes. She hadn’t misread Claude’s signals: he’d wanted to pursue the relationship with her after that kiss, right until she’d shut him down, hard, without an explanation. And even though her reasons for doing so had been sound—he was a big flirt, and other than work, they really didn’t have much in common—the mature thing would have been to have a private chat with him. Either way, she knew deep down that she’d made her choices out of fear. Because after Phillip, she simply hadn’t had the courage to take any risks. The thought of loving someone again and then losing them cut her to pieces inside.