Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,7

aware that she hated all things old—unless they were men who had money. And true to her cousin’s MO, a man was involved.

“Come on, you can give me a hand. Maybe I can help you learn a little more about rare books, and you can impress your boss-slash-whatever he is with your newfound knowledge of his hobby.”

“Perfect.” Kalea rubbed her hands together. “Where do we start?”

“First, let’s get these boxes moved so we can begin the interesting part of what might be a very long day.”

“Did you understand what she meant with her lot-sale numbers and all that?”

“Yes, and I agree in theory with her, but she could have been nicer in her explanation, so I’ll translate for you. It’s important in an estate sale of this kind to have all the auction items sorted and divided into their separate sale packages beforehand. If they’re marked clearly and made easily accessible, the sale moves faster because the auctioneer will have an assistant who will display the items in each lot sale on the table prior to the bidding. That way, attendees can actually see what they’re bidding on.”

Addie scanned the room. “It appears Charlotte has the shelves over there on the sidewall, closer to the center table and where the podium will be, broken into group or lot sales. Here . . . see how these shelves are tagged?” She pointed to a cardboard memo card hanging at one end of a shelf. “She’s sorted them up into publishing dates and genres. These lot sales appear to be ones that are considered collectible but aren’t actually rare books the same with the ones in these crates. Let’s get them out of the way, and then we can get to that table and try to figure out what she’s done with the individual books I see sitting on it.”

* * *

Addie moaned as she pushed the last box into place.

“I know, my back is killing me, too,” Kalea said, rubbing the small of her back.

“No, it’s not that.” Addie held out her hand. “Look, one of my brand-new acrylic nails broke off.”

“Now, that is a catastrophe.” Kalea examined her own fingers. “But good luck finding it in these boxes so your esthetician can reattach it.”

“No, I’ve been thinking of having them all removed. It was a silly whim my friend Serena and I had last weekend. They really are impractical for my type of work.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Kalea looked wide-eyed at her. “I love my nails and can’t ever imagine not having them.”

“Obviously, you’re not doing much typing these days, are you?” When her cousin’s face turned a slight shade of crimson, Addie knew right then that when she began dating the senior partner, her duties as a typist and paralegal had also changed. “Forget about it. Let’s see what Charlotte has planned for the books on the center table.”

Addie picked up a reddish-brown cloth-bound book. “Look, it’s a 1935 printing by The Limited Editions Club of New York of Ulysses by James Joyce.” She scanned the other books on the table. “These books all appear to be ones that Charlotte thinks should be auctioned off individually tomorrow, as they’d be worth more money.”

Addie placed the opened book back on the table and waved Kalea to her side. “Did you know that only fifteen hundred copies were printed of this one and this is number 1459? And see here, it’s signed by the illustrator, Henri Matisse, on the Limitation Page.” She tapped her finger on the page. “It’s worth about seven thousand dollars in today’s market.”

“What about this one?” Kalea pointed to a pale green covered book stamped in red and green. “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum?”

Addie picked up the book and turned to the title page. “It’s a first edition, too, originally published by the George M. Hill Company in 1900. Given its worn condition, it’s probably worth about twenty-eight thousand.”

“Dollars?” Kalea snatched the book from Addie’s hand. “Wow, I had no idea books could be worth that much.”

“That’s nothing compared to some that trade for millions.”

Kalea traced her fingers over the cover illustration of the red-maned lion wearing green spectacles.

Addie slid the book from Kalea’s hands. “I guess with books like this in the library, we’d better get those gloves on. We don’t want to leave oily finger residue on any of them.”

“I’ll grab them.” Kalea dashed over to the desk, pulled out four cotton gloves, grabbed the key ring Charlotte had left, and returned