“It doesn’t pay to hang around in my business,” he said, opening the driver side door. “A lesson you’d think I’d have learned by now, but after this morning apparently not.”

Patton slid into the passenger seat and pulled on her seat belt. “And I suppose if I ask you once again what your business is, you’ll say . . .”

Nemo started the engine but did not put the car in gear. He turned to look Patton directly in the eye for the first time since they met. “Did Jasper ever give you anything?”

“No,” said Patton. “Just advice and companionship. He loaned me a book once.”

“He never gave you a key to something?”

“You mean like a key to this place?” said Patton.

“I thought so,” said Nemo, “but it must be something else. What book did he loan you?”

“Just an old thriller. The Key to Rebecca. It’s about . . . oh . . .”

“What?”

“It’s about World War II codebreaking.”

“Jesus. And it’s called The Key to Rebecca? Where is it?”

“He told me to take care of it, but I’m afraid I didn’t. I spilled a glass of water all over the back of it. That’s not like me. I’m usually pretty careful with books. But it was a beat-up old book club edition, so I figured I’d go online and buy him a replacement. Maybe a first edition if I could find one.”

“Charming story, but where did you put his copy?”

“I donated it to the library book swap a couple of days ago. There’s a case outside the main entrance where you can leave a book and take a book.”

“Let’s hope it’s still there,” said Nemo.

“You think Jasper left something important in that book without telling me?” said Patton.

“Unless I’m mistaken, those gentlemen callers from this morning think you have something that belonged to Jasper—something they want. If we get it first, we might have a little leverage when it comes to things like staying alive.” He threw the car into gear, spinning his tires on the grass for a second or two before gaining traction and shooting off down the gravel road.

Patton and Nemo could hear sirens as they drove back into town, but the parking lot of the courthouse was still empty. It took Patton only a minute to find the copy of The Key to Rebecca Jasper had given her wedged on top of a stack of paperback crime novels on the bottom shelf of the “Take a Book, Leave a Book” case that stood in the sheltered entryway to the library. She tugged the book off the shelf and ran back to the car, relieved she didn’t hear the sound of bullets hitting the pavement, or the car, or herself.

“You think this is what they shot up my kitchen for? It doesn’t seem like much of a treasure.”