Return To Sender (The Hart Brothers #2) - J. S. Cooper Page 0,7
As I walked, I passed a bookshelf that I’d never really noticed before. It was about five feet tall, made of reclaimed wood with leather straps, and was full of books. I stopped to look at what books Wade read, feeling a surge of surprise when I realized what they were. I’d never thought of Wade as being a big reader. He had never paid much attention to the books in the library, and I’d just assumed that meant he wasn’t really interested, but as I picked up a stack of books from the top shelf, I began to wonder.
I looked through the books: 1984 by George Orwell, The Lord of The Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien, Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, and Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes. Were these were his favorites?
The Agatha Christie book seemed a little out of place; I wondered if he was into mysteries in general or just Agatha Christie. I held the books in my hand feeling like I was getting new insight into Wade’s mind when I noticed a small note card on the shelf. I put the books back and grabbed the card.
It appeared to be a grocery list. There were only five items listed: white bread, butter, American cheese, cheddar cheese, and salt and vinegar potato chips. I frowned as I reread it. I’d never seen this list before and he’d never asked me to get any of these items. Why would he have a list for bread and cheese? I put the notecard back on the shelf and then went to look in his closet and through his pants pockets. I knew I was being invasive, but I wanted more information, and I wanted it now.
Just who was Wade Hart? And what did his secrets mean for me?
“I’ve got an evening ticket.” Lucy sounded pleased with herself. “Jolene and I will arrive at nine p.m. I hope that’s okay?”
“That’s perfect,” I said to the car as I drove. I always felt weird conversing with people using Bluetooth. It made me feel a bit like a crazy person, just talking into the air. “I’m off to meet Gordon for lunch, and then we’re going to go back to Wade’s place.”
“Oh, to look for clues?”
“No, just to hang out. I’m not sure how much I want to tell him. I like him and he’s always been so friendly to me, but there’s just something about him that puts my back up, you know?”
“You don’t think he’s a psychopath, do you?”
“No, Lucy! How many psychopaths do you think there are in Herne Hill Village?”
“Well, we have three contenders already,” she pointed out. “Wade, Henry, and Gordon.”
“Henry’s not a psychopath.”
“Well, you never know. If he’s related to Wade, anything is possible.”
“He’s really nice and really quite handsome.” I pulled onto the main road. “In fact, I kinda wish he was staying at the house as well.”
“You dirty dog!”
“Nothing like that.” I giggled. “I can’t see myself having a threesome.”
“I wasn’t even thinking of a threesome.”
“What were you thinking of?”
“I was thinking you were saying you would have hooked up with him instead of Wade, not that you’d thought about doing both of them at the same time.”
“I’ve never thought of that!” I laughed. “Just because I’ve lost my virginity doesn’t mean I’m ready to be a freak.”
“Get your freak on, I say.” Lucy giggled.
“Isn’t that a Missy Elliott song?”
“Maybe, and I’m sure she’d approve.”
“You want me to sleep with two brothers?”
“Imagine the poetry you could write then!”
“Lucy, you’re an idiot.”
“Anything for the art, Savannah, and then I could make a movie and it would become an instant hit and we’d both be rich and famous forever.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “I’m sure everyone wants to hear about me banging two hot brothers with some super-secret shady past.”
“Did you find anything out about that?”
“No, but I did find something odd ...”
“What’s that?”
“I found a shopping list but it contained items Wade has never asked me to get.”
“Oh boy, let me guess, oil and jelly.”
“Oil and jelly?”
“You know what I mean. Massage oil and KY jelly.”
I groaned in response. “Lucy, sometimes you’re the most immature person I know.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” She laughed. “And I’m not really the most immature, am I?”
“No, you’re not.” I agreed. “You only wear that crown half of the year.”
“And you wear it the other half.”
“Not something that I’m proud of,” I admitted ruefully. It wasn’t that we were immature per se, it was