“Oh, it’s charming,” I whispered, turning it over to check out the back joint along the spine. It was strong, in mint condition.
“Yes, it’s lovely, I suppose,” Derek said grudgingly. “Why it was left here, hidden, I have no idea.”
“No.” It was indeed lovely and extremely rare; of that, I had no doubt. I imagined a collector would be willing to pay twenty or thirty thousand dollars, if not more.
“What in the world was this doing in a Baggie under your desk?”
He bristled. “I didn’t put it there.”
“Of course you didn’t,” I said. “I’m just wondering who did. And why.”
I could feel the tension radiating off him. While I studied the book, he paced back and forth in front of me, visibly furious. It made me wonder how someone like him, with his legendary self-control and fervent belief in the order of law, could stand to be put in a position of having to defend himself to the police.
He probably felt upside down and discombobulated, although he might describe it in less whimsical terms. Whatever you called it, I knew the feeling. I felt his pain.
“If I knew who did it,” he said tersely, “they’d be in jail by now.”
Baffled, I shook my head. “What were they trying to prove?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He took the book from me and studied it for a few seconds, then handed it back. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find that it’s one of Layla’s books. Clearly, someone put it here to frame me.”
“How would they get in?” I waved away the question. “Never mind. Housekeeping.” I had intimate knowledge of the ease of slipping a key off the housekeeping trolley.
“Exactly.”
“But who? Naomi again?”
“I don’t know.” His fists clenched as he paced. “Is she smart enough to carry out such an elaborate scheme?”
“She’s smart enough, but this would take more than mere smarts. It’s so brazen, it’s almost . . . diabolical.”
“Yes, it is.” He gritted his teeth. “And I’m determined to find out who did it.”
“I’ll help,” I said immediately.
He tilted his head to study me.
“What?” I demanded finally. “I’m going to help. I don’t care what—”
“Yes, I can use your help.”
“—you think, I’m . . . what? I mean, it’s not like you can stop me, but . . . really?”
He flashed me a sexy, lopsided grin. I wondered if he could hear my little heart pitter-patter as I returned his smile.
“Yes, really.” His grin faded and he reached out to touch my cheek. “Because whoever tried to frame me has also hurt you, darling. And that is one thing I cannot forgive.”
Chapter 15
En route to BABA to confront Naomi, I called the police to report the break-in of Derek’s hotel suite. They transferred me to Inspector Lee’s voice mail, where I gave her the rundown on Derek’s hotel room, the book, and where we were headed now.
As Derek brought the Bentley to a stop directly in front of BABA’s doors, Inspector Lee returned my call. I put her on speaker.
“Don’t even think about walking inside until I get there,” Lee shouted. “I’m calling a unit to meet you. They should be there in two minutes. Two minutes. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I said. “But I have a class to teach and Derek’s just hanging out here with me.”
“Do not walk inside that building,” she shouted.
“No need for hysterics, Inspector,” Derek said calmly. “We’ll wait right here for you.”
“Hysterics?” she said softly, venom dripping off the word. “You ain’t seen hysterics, pal. I’ll slap both your asses in jail if you’re not outside when I get there.”
“Harsh,” I said, meeting Derek’s amused glance.
“You ain’t seen harsh, either,” Lee groused.
“Now I’m intrigued,” Derek said.
She just growled, then hung up.
I stuck my cell in my jacket pocket. “I think she likes us.”
“What’s not to like?” He leaned over, unlocked the glove box, and pulled out a really scary-looking gun. “By the way, I think you should wait in the car.”
“No. Whoa. A gun?” I waved my hand at him. “There are people in there. My students. That’s not necessary, is it? It’s just Naomi. She’s hardly a . . .”
“A what?” he said. “A killer? We don’t know that, do we?”
“But—”
“Sweetheart, believe it or not, I’m a highly trained professional. I’m not going to shoot up the place.”
“I know, I know,” I said, as fear and nerves set up shop in my heart. “But that gun is really big.”
“Thank you, darling.”
I snorted a laugh, ladylike to the end.
He reached for the door handle and I grabbed his arm. “Let’s just give it a minute, please? I’d rather have the police confront her than us.”
“You’re about to get your way,” he said, as police lights flashed behind us. “They’re prompt anyway. I’ll give them that.”