Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set Nanci Rathbun (i love reading books txt) 📖

to leave if we’re not there when she arrives.” She turned to Spider. “There’s a student study carrel a few feet from the room. You can camp there and still keep a lookout. She won’t be able to see you if you’re sitting.”

He nodded and showed me a small silver button. “It’s a transmitter. I’ll be wearing the receiver. Let me attach it to the inside of your briefcase. All you have to do is put the case on the floor and leave it open, but not so open that the prof is likely to see it. Test it when you get in. I’ll cough real loud to let you know it’s working. If you don’t hear me, bring it out to the carrel.”

It was on the shady side of legal, but, like the colonel, I was willing to cut a corner on legalities if it meant we could roll up this case. I handed Spider my briefcase. Lily watched the process with an avid gleam in her eye.

We settled in the meeting room. It was far from opulent, just a long fake-wood table and chairs, and a credenza with a computer monitor and phone. I unlocked my briefcase and set it down next to the chair at the far head of the table, where I could watch the door. “How long a break do you get for Thanksgiving, Lily?”

A hacking cough sounded from outside the room. I sat and smiled at her to continue.

“I’ll be off starting next Thursday—Thanksgiving—and the following week.”

“Nice.”

Lily rose and walked to the door. “We’re in here, Professor,” she called.

Kolar was medium height and a little overweight. She wore a black skirted suit with a plain white blouse and black pumps. She carried no purse. Her briefcase was also black. The only color relief was a headscarf of light blue, worn like a Westerner, with her dark brown hair visible at the temples and top of her head. She entered and closed the door, then frowned. “Lily, may I ask to exchange seats, please?”

Lily was seated on my left, with her back to the wall, facing the doorway. She rose and walked around the table, where her back was now to the windows that looked out onto the open space and stacks.

The professor nodded and silently walked to Lily’s former position. She extended her hand to me and said, “Dr. Rua Kolar.”

Keeping her back to the wall indicated her deep-seated desire for safety. I rose and took her hand, saying, “Angelina Bonaparte, but call me Angie.” Perhaps being on a first-name basis would relieve her obvious tension and establish a sense of trust.

She didn’t reciprocate with her first name. “Master’s in library science from UW-Madison,” she said. “Good school.”

She’d done her homework on me, too. Was that more a sign of her intelligence or her wariness?

As she sat, Lily jumped in. “Professor, you’ll never believe how Angie and I met. So funny.” She paused and slowed her speech. “I was on duty last Sunday night, staffing the desk, bored out of my mind. It didn’t seem like there were any serious scholars on the floor, just a lot of goofing off. It made me grouchy.”

Kolar nodded. “I see.”

I worried that the whole interview would consist of two or three word responses from her. Maybe I could provide a little comic relief. “Lily is pretty scary in mean librarian mode, and she’s about a foot taller than I am. I hated to even ask her a question.”

“I was intrigued,” Lily continued, “by this put-together woman in clothes to die for, that looked absolutely perfect on her. And here’s me, all gangly and grumpy, wishing I could look that good.” She tugged at her long sleeves, which ended about two inches above her wrist bones. “They just don’t make clothes for women my height.”

Kolar smiled slightly. Her full lips curved into a lovely cupid’s bow and her stern look softened. “We all have our gifts, Dr. March. I’m sure you never worry about weight.” She sighed and patted her slightly round tummy.

“Please, call me Lily.”

Kolar had little choice but to reciprocate, unless she wanted to be rude. “Rua,” she said.

We all shifted a bit and Lily continued her story. “When Angie showed me her private investigator’s license, I got pretty excited. You see, I love mysteries. Devour them. I’ve been that way since I read my first Nancy Drew.” Kolar lifted an eyebrow and Lily explained. “Nancy Drew was a series for grade-school kids about a girl detective.” She sighed. “I so wanted to be Nancy and I guess that wish has continued into my adulthood. Kinsey Milhone, Bertha Cool, Amelia Peabody, Stephanie Plum, Sigrid Harald, Eve Dallas—I’ve read them all and then some. And here was a real live female detective asking for my help. She showed me some pictures that were part of a current case and asked if I could help identify them. Of course, I shut down the desk and went upstairs into the stacks with her.”

It was my turn. I needed to move slowly. The book was probably the least threatening item. “I had pictures of an old book. Lily examined the alphabet used in the book and saw that it contained both Latin and Cyrillic characters. She did some preliminary digging and decided that it could be written in old Bosnian.” I handed her the pictures of the book. “Would you agree?”

Kolar removed a black case from her briefcase and settled narrow black-framed glasses on her face.

Why all the black? I wondered.

She studied the paper prints carefully, while Lily and I waited. When Lily opened her mouth a bit, I caught her eye and gave a subtle shake of the head, indicating that she should stay quiet.

After several long minutes, Kolar stacked the papers and set them on the table, then folded her hands and looked at Lily. “You’re right. The language is Bosnian. The book looks old, but one can never be sure in these days of forgery. If it