Выбрать главу

Good grief, the man was dangerous to my health in more ways than one. His tall good looks and all-seeing, all-knowing eyes, his quirky smile and sardonic wit could overpower my puny will at times. If I hadn’t seen him at Heathrow with the woman and her baby, I probably would’ve jumped into bed with him while we were here. But now I was hesitant, even knowing the woman was just his sister-in-law. That shock had gone a long way toward reminding me that I needed to think before I jumped.

After all, I wasn’t exactly the best judge when it came to choosing boyfriends, as I’d been reminded so many times by my family members. But hey, they always liked the guys I dated, so maybe it was a genetic thing.

Seriously, Derek Stone was just a bad choice for a boyfriend. Not that I’d ever call him a boy. Anyway, besides the fact that he lived six thousand miles away from me, the man carried a gun.

So even if I were to get involved with Derek this week-and yes, by getting involved, we were talking sex-eventually we would drift apart and I’d forget all about him and his thighs of steel.

“Whoa.” Okay, the genealogy search was no longer providing the distraction I required. Shaking off all thoughts of Derek and, you know, his thighs of steel, I tried to concentrate on the job at hand.

A scuffing noise from the next aisle over surprised me, and I wobbled on the step, causing the cat to meow again loudly.

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

I blew out a breath and gazed up and down the aisle. My imagination was going a little crazy, I supposed. It was easy to get spooked back here in these constricted spaces, surrounded by the ghosts of history.

The cat settled itself across my feet as I pulled another ledger out, opened the page and stared at the marriage certificate of Doreen Cathcart and Russell McVee.

“Holy mackerel,” I said. “Kitty, look what I found.” The cat made mewing noises, as if he were just as happy as I was. I figured he was just humoring me.

I gazed at the faded legal paper and thought of Kyle. So at least part of his story was true. Maybe if I did more research, I could find out the truth about Robert Burns and the princess. But I couldn’t do anything else today.

I pressed the book back into place on the shelf. “Come on, kitty. It’s time to-”

Without warning, the bookshelf began to tremble.

“What the-”

An earthquake? For real?

A few books from the highest shelf tumbled down on top of me.

“Crap!” I covered my head with my hand to keep from getting hit, but it was impossible. The bookshelf was rocking so hard, I needed to keep both hands on the ladder railing.

The cat howled and leapt ten feet to the ground, then ran down the narrow aisle and disappeared.

The shaking grew even more violent, and hundreds of books slid out and down, battering me, their sharp leather edges scraping my skin.

“Ack!” The massive bookshelf banged against the ladder, throwing me back and forth like a sailor on a storm-tossed sea. I held on to the insubstantial railing and tried to climb down, but books were everywhere. I tripped over one and lost my footing, fell hard on my ass and slid the rest of the way down to the floor, bumping my backbone against each ladder step as books continued to fall and hit me.

I landed on the ground and stared up at the heavy wood bookshelf as it leaned precariously over me. My throat closed up. I was in serious danger of being crushed. I scrambled to my knees, then tried to stand, but I kept slipping on books. As panic set in, I scurried down the narrow aisle on my knees. Finally, I pushed myself up to run but slid on another damn book. As I fell, I felt my ankle twist painfully.

The bookshelf groaned as it sprang free from whatever bolts had held it in place. I watched it careen and bounce against the bookshelf across the aisle from it. It made an awkward half spiral and I screamed as it crashed to the floor inches away from me.

The silence was sudden. Seconds later, I heard the heavy door slam shut and knew there hadn’t been an earthquake.

Chapter 10

I tried to stand but shards of pain shot up my leg and I moaned.

“Okay, that hurts,” I admitted under my breath. Had I really twisted my ankle? It didn’t matter. I didn’t expect emergency medical help to show up anytime soon, so I had to get myself out of there.

Just for a moment, I lay on the floor and tried to pull myself together, afraid to move too quickly. I stared at the bottom edge of another bookshelf, one that was still standing, and saw that it was bolted to the floor. Checking the seam between the two shelves, I couldn’t see any brackets holding them together. I guessed they didn’t have earthquake problems in Scotland. If this were California, there would be brackets upon brackets to hold everything in place in case of a temblor.

“Meow.”

“Hi, kitty,” I whispered.

“Meow,” the cat said more loudly, as though he might be complaining about the mess I’d made.

“I know.” I gritted my teeth and pulled myself to my knees. The cat bumped his head against my thigh as if that would help me get up.

Finally, I managed to stand, and the fact that my legs were still working was such a relief, I almost cried. I found my purse and jacket among the piles of ledgers and, with the cat bounding over books to lead the way, slowly made it out of the stacks.

My ankle throbbed but I could walk. Sort of. Slowly. It hurt but it was manageable. I slung my purse across my chest and hopped on my good foot over to one of the low cabinets, then stopped to get myself situated.

At that moment, the door opened and two women walked in and glanced around. They both wore badges attached to their jacket lapels, so I assumed they were librarians.

“I swear I heard something crash in here,” the taller one said. She wore her hair pulled back in a severe bun and she scowled as she surveyed the area.

“Maybe it was upstairs,” said the other woman, a short, older woman with curly gray hair. “They’ve painters working in the offices.” At that moment, she noticed me. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello.” I clutched a nearby drawer pull to keep myself upright. My ankle throbbed and I was getting a headache. “The crash you heard was one of the bookshelves in back. It came unhinged and fell to the floor. The books are scattered everywhere. It’s a real mess.”

The taller woman rushed across the room to inspect the damage. “Good heavens, it’s chaos. Have you ever seen such a disaster?”

“How in the world did this happen?” the shorter one asked as she patted her chest in distress.

“I have no idea,” I said, fairly certain they wouldn’t believe me if I told them someone was trying to kill me. “But I fell off the ladder and the bookshelf almost landed on top of me.”

“Goodness, you could’ve been killed.” She took a moment to consider me. “You don’t look at all well, miss. Do you need assistance?”

I was so grateful, I almost wept. “No, thank you. I just want to get back to my hotel and rest.”

The taller librarian’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you in here? You’re not allowed to use this room without a special certificate.”

“Ah,” I said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “That explains it, then.”

She sniffed in annoyance.

“Shirleen, the girl is injured,” the nice librarian said.

Shirleen pursed her lips in displeasure. “She shouldn’t be in here. Will you look at this horrible disarray? I’m going to have to report this upstairs.”

She stomped off. I couldn’t do anything about the mess, and my head was pounding in earnest now. “I’m sorry, but I need to leave.”

“Of course, dear. Let me help you out.” The nice woman took hold of my elbow and walked me to the door. As soon as she opened it, the cat flew out and down the hall.