At the edges, I continued to stretch and press the leather until it overlapped onto the endpapers. I used scissors to trim away the excess and cut the corners, pinching them to make them fit together smoothly.
As the glue and leather dried, I could feel the leather shrinking a little, which was a good thing as long as I continued to smooth and press and tighten it around the folds. At the top and base of the spine, I used my thin, pointed bone folder to smooth and tuck the leather down into the spine so the headbands would show nicely.
I’d found that working with leather, even after hundreds of bookbinding jobs, was never an exact science. At this point in my career, the steps I took were instinctive; I knew what to do without much thought. I was incorporating years of skill and knowledge and experience—and adding a little touch of art.
And yet, every piece of leather was slightly different, so I was also applying a touch of science to each job. For instance, if a particular piece of leather got too stiff too quickly, I could moisten it with a damp sponge. I knew that wheat paste dried more slowly than PVA and absorbed more deeply, making for a more penetrating bond. But PVA was generally a faster surface adhesive, and I liked the way it worked along the edges of the turndowns. Each job brought its own new problems and solutions.
Unless I was attending a bookbinders’ convention, there weren’t a lot of people who cared to hear all these details, especially when it came to the intricacies of glue. I could go on for hours, but I usually stopped when I heard the snoring. My only consolation was that everyone could appreciate the beautiful finished product.
I took a break and ate the sandwich I’d brought with me. I used my phone to check messages, but there was nothing urgent. I was just waiting for the leather to dry. I walked outside and took a stroll around Abraham’s pool and backyard area, then returned to the workshop to check my book.
The leather turndowns were dry enough, so I used my metal ruler and an X-Acto knife to trim them. They would ultimately be covered by new endpapers, so I wanted them to have a nice, even edge.
Finally, I cut two-inch-wide strips of wax paper and slipped them between the boards and endpapers to keep the leather from bleeding onto the paper.
After that, I slid the book into the wooden press until only the spine was showing, then tightened it enough to hold the book in place. I used my bone folder along the spine to further shape and emphasize the raised bands and the notches I’d made at the top and bottom of the joints near the headcaps.
I stretched my arms and rolled my shoulders a few times to get rid of the kinks and happened to look up at the clock.
“Oh rats!” I was going to be late to Trudy’s if I didn’t stop working right at that moment. With the book already in the press, my timing was perfect. I left it where it was, knowing that when I returned in the next day or so, the leather would be dried and the spine would be ready for gilding.
I cleaned up my work space, washed my glue brush, and raced home, where I took a quick shower and changed into a nicer pair of jeans and a sweater.
I’d managed to zone out while working on the medical book, but now I was curious all over again to know what Trudy’s surprise could be. It had to have something to do with one of the art pieces in the cave. Unless it had to do with Elizabeth. Maybe she had decided to move here permanently. That would be a fun surprise.
“Doesn’t do any good to speculate,” I muttered as I locked up the house and jogged to my car.
I got lucky with traffic, and eight minutes later I was pulling to the curb in front of Trudy’s place. I gazed at the pretty craftsman-style home and wondered if Amelia would be serving tea and cookies this afternoon. The thought made me snicker as I shut the car door and strolled up to the porch. Poor Amelia. Did she know how annoying she was? Probably not.
I climbed out of the car and glanced around Trudy’s neighborhood. I’d been working inside for two days straight and hadn’t been able to take advantage of the beautiful weather we’d been having lately. The air was clean, and the sky was a gorgeous shade of blue. I could smell hints of pine and newly mown grass in the light breeze. Someone must’ve lit a fire last night, I thought, because the smell of burning wood lingered in the air. It all reminded me of fall days when I was young, when school had just started and Halloween was right around the corner.
I smiled at the memory and climbed the steps up to Trudy’s porch. I was about to knock, when a loud bang shattered the silence.
“What the—?”
That was a gunshot. I’d heard the sound before.
“Trudy!” I grabbed the door handle and found it unlocked, so I shoved the door open and ran inside. Trudy lay on the marble hearth in front of the fireplace. My stomach pitched at the sight of blood pooling under her head. Amelia was sprawled awkwardly facedown across the nearest chair.