Page 89 of The Library of Borrowed Hearts

“Making puppies cry!”

“Crushing the bones of your enemies!”

By the time they’d reached the end of their list, the two were about to collapse in giggles. To Jasper’s surprise, he wasn’t too far from it himself.

“I always knew there was a reason why Noodle is my favorite honorary grandchild,” he grumbled as he lifted his fork and begin eating the cold French toast. Lest they get the wrong idea—which their sudden gasps of delight seem to put them in severe danger of doing—he pointed a piece at them and added, “He doesn’t talk back like the rest of you.”

33

JASPER

Jasper knew exactly where to find her. At the library, of course.

“Here. I brought you these.” He reached into his leather cross-bag and pulled out a stack of books: the faded greenTropic of Cancer, the batteredA Farewell to Arms, the well-linedThe Haunting of Hill House, and of course the barely touchedWuthering Heights. “I tried reading the writing in the last one before I came here, but it was so full of maudlin sentiment that I only made it a few pages. Maybe you’ll enjoy it more than I can.”

Chloe turned to face him, her eyes wide in the way all the Sampsons seemed to have perfected. “Jasper! What are you doing here?”

Since she made no move to take the books, he dumped them on the counter in front of her. She appeared to be doing some kind of data entry on one of the library computers—a thing he felt pretty sure was a waste of her talents and likely the most boring job in existence. But she’d continue in the same way he had when he’d been her age, determined to do her work well and equally determined not to let anyone know what it cost her.

“And before you try giving me all these back again, I should informyou that I came here directly from the bank,” he added. “Youstillhaven’t deposited that check.”

Over her shoulder, Jasper spotted two other librarians coming to see what all the ruckus was about. One of them was the girl he’d seen around Chloe’s house before—the one who looked exactly like Lonnie Pakootas and who terrified him just as much as that old battle-ax. The other was a waddling scrap of a man that Jasper could already tell he wasn’t going to like.

The man arrived at the checkout counter first.

“Chloe,” he said in a voice that denoted his status as the overlord of this particular realm. “Is this patron bothering you?”

“Of course he’s bothering her, Gunderson,” the girl said, hard on his heels. “That’s Jasper Holmes. Remember? The guy you told us about? Who killed a woman back in the sixties and then buried her out in his garden?”

The man—Gunderson—almost toppled over in his sudden discomfiture. He coughed and snorted and made a variety of other noises better suited for a barnyard than a library checkout counter. “I never said that,” he muttered, unable to meet Jasper’s eye. “It was a rumor, that’s all. My wife read about it in one of her forums.”

Chloe’s eyes met Jasper’s with a flash of laughter. It had been so long since he’d had that kind of easy intimacy with another person that he found himself sharing her amusement. He also did what he could to get rid of the guy. Suffering fools had never been his strong suit, and no number of Sampsons taking over his life would change that.

“I may not have killed Catherine, but Iwasresponsible for her death,” he said to Gunderson without a hint of inflection. “Feel free to tell your wife all about it.”

At sight of the man’s suddenly goggling stare, Chloe rushed to explain. “Don’t tell your wife anything of the sort, Gunderson,” shesaid. “The Catherine in question didn’t actually die. She just moved away under… Let’s call it a cloud of suspicion. A lot of people were led to believe she was dead, but it was all a misunderstanding.”

“It’s true,” the Pakootas girl added. She leaned on the counter, her eyes dancing mischievously up into Jasper’s. “You can ask my grandmother about it. She was there at the time.”

The Gunderson man opened his mouth and closed it again, clearly at a loss for words—and for the authority to throw Jasper out of the library like he wanted to.

“The dead girl is also staying somewhere in town for the foreseeable future, so if you’re thinking about pressing charges, there’s no point,” Jasper said. He looked down at his hands—deeply veined and liable to ache anytime rain was near—and grimaced. “Although she’s not a girl anymore. Everything happened a long time ago.”

All of a sudden, Chloe was touching his shoulder, her customary expression of worry back in place. Jasper couldn’t imagine why until he realized his hands were shaking.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today, Gunderson?” she asked. “I’d like to see Jasper safely home. There’s been a lot more excitement in his life than he’s used to lately.”

At that—the most understated of all understatements—Gunderson relaxed. “Go ahead, Chloe. We’re not busy today.”

“And I’ll finish inputting the holiday catalog for you,” the Pakootas girl added. “I got done with my bookmobile rounds early, so it’s no problem.”

Chloe took one look at her coworkers and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, you guys. I know I’ve been flaking out a lot lately, but—”

“But nothing,” Gunderson said. “Patron safety is the most important thing.”

This seemed a touch dramatic to Jasper. He might have grown a little shaken when he thought back on all the time that had passed and theyears he’d wasted, but he was built of sterner stuff. He was about to say as much when Gunderson’s gaze fell to the stack of books.

Gunderson reached out to touch the Hemingway spine. “Wait. Are some of these library property?”