The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan?” Scott grabbed a handful of science fiction books from the cart. “Aisle G-seven.”

Seventy-year-old Napoleon Zavala grinned as he left the Science Fiction section of Willowick County Library. In a minute, he returned with a copy of The Thirty-Nine Steps. “Unbelievable.” He shook his balding head, sprigs of silver running from his hairline. “I’m telling you it’s a gift, Scottie.”

“It’s not a gift.” Scott placed more of the new arrivals on the shelf. “I’ve been working here since high school so I should know where the books are.”

“How many librarians can tell you where any book in the library is from memory?” Napoleon’s thin, liver-spotted hands thumbed through the book. “Who needs a computer or card catalog with you around?”

“I love books.” Scott pushed the cart out the aisle and into the next row. “The way they look, the way they smell, the way they feel. You love something then you make it your job to learn all you can about them.” He winked at a bewildered-looking Napoleon. “No different from you and your coin collection.”

“Speaking of which, I got a new coin in yesterday.” Napoleon’s smoky-gray eyes brightened. “It’s from seventeen ninety-three and is worth about three thousand dollars.”

“Holy moly.” Scott whistled, straightening books. “That collection must be worth a quarter of a million dollars now.”

“More.” Napoleon blushed. “I can’t wait to show you the new coin. You coming over for chess tonight? You owe me a game since you stood me up last week.”

“I’ll be there.” Scott snickered. “Why don’t we make a wager? Can I get a coin if I win?”

Napoleon smiled, stuffing his hand in his pocket. “Hell no.”

Scott laughed as an elegant, gray-haired woman with purple lips from ages of smoking entered the aisle. “There you are.” She grabbed Scott’s hand. “Thank goodness you’re here.”

“Mrs. Mapleton.” He faked a smile at the worrisome woman. “What can I do for you today?”

“My book club meets tomorrow, and I lost my book. My daughter leant me her e-reader, but my eyes are too bad to read on a screen.”

“I hate e-readers.” Scott dipped his head. “I want to touch the book, feel it in my hands, and be one with it.”

Napoleon grinned. “Scottie, are you talking about reading a book or having sex?”

Scott smiled. “Trust me; sometimes a good book is better than sex.”

“I love reading too, but there isn’t a book in the world better than sex.” Napoleon smiled at Mrs. Mapleton. “And, I’m seventy years-old.”

Mrs. Mapleton sighed, poking out her wide hip. “I need a copy of The Lost Symbol and I can’t find it anywhere.” She wiggled her fingers. “Please tell me you have a copy.”

“The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown?” Scott closed his eyes, pretending to think. “Aisle R-nine.”

“R-nine?” She hummed on her way out the aisle. “Let’s see if his magic continues.” She left and sure enough came back in a minute with the book. “Thanks so much, Scott.” She kissed his cheek, leaving slobber. “You’re amazing.” She tapped the book. “I got to get to my reading. See you fellows later.”

“Bye, Mrs. Mapleton.”

“Hm.” Napoleon moaned with his gaze on Mrs. Mapleton’s wobbling backside. “She’s got a rack on her.”

“Napoleon.” Scott laughed.

“What? I’m old, not blind.”

“Mrs. Mapleton is married.” Scott pushed the cart to another section.

“So?” Napoleon followed. “I’m not.”

Scott guffawed, wrestling with books. “You’re a mess.”

“Oh, guess what?” Napoleon hit Scott’s back. “My niece Lita is coming to town for a visit.”

“Lita?” Scott straightened a pair of books that weren’t in alphabetical order. “Is that the one I met at the Christmas party a few years ago?”

“You’ve never met Lita. She’s my niece from Chicago.”

“Oh yeah.” Scott pushed the cart through the aisle. “When’s she coming?”

“A few days. She’ll be here a while so we can catch up.” Napoleon helped Scott shelve books. “I think you’ll hit it off.”

“You’re not trying to set me up are you?”

“What’s so bad about that?” Napoleon nudged him. “You’re a young man in your prime. You need to stop concentrating on books so much and meet women.”

“I haven’t had the best luck with women.” Scott read the spine of a book. “In case you’ve forgotten.”

“Let what happened with Debra go. That’s the past.”

“She was the only woman I’ve loved.” Scott put the book on the bottom shelf. “It’s difficult to forget the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.”

“And she broke your heart.” Napoleon’s fuzzy, black eyebrows furrowed. “It’s her loss. Lita might be the one to get you out your funk. Aren’t you tired of going home to books?”

“Nope.” Scott beamed. “I can be myself with books and get pleasure without strings attached or the books trying to change me.”

“Just meet her.” Napoleon put his arms behind his back.

“I’d love to meet your niece, but I won’t make any promises.”

Scott’s cell phone rang.

“Excuse me.” He checked the screen and answered, “Bobby, hey. Oh, Napoleon’s here.” Scott held the phone to Napoleon’s ear.

“Hey, Bobby,” Napoleon said.

“What’s up, Napoleon?”

“Nothing much.” He grinned. “Trying to hook Scottie up with my niece.”

“Nice try with that. If it doesn’t work out, then send her my way.”

Scott spoke into the phone, “I’m back.”

“I looked up your girlfriend. Her name’s Rachel Howard.”

“Rachel. Are you sure that’s her?”

“I can’t be sure but that’s the name the car is registered to. Her birthdate says she’s thirty-two, so it’s probably your girl.”

Scott held his waist, jumping out his skin. “You got her contact info?”

“Eh-huh.”

“Well, are you gonna give it to me?”

“I can’t give you someone’s address and phone number. That’s against the law. You’re lucky I took time to run the plate.”

“Come on, man.”

Napoleon stared at Scott with wide eyes.

“Bobby, I need to find out what this girl’s into.”

“You are not a cop. Whatever’s going on, if she wants help then she can ask us for it. My advice is to act like this morning never happened.”

“I can’t.” Scott leaned on a shelf. “I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m worried that someone’s gonna hurt her.”

“I can’t do it, Scott.”

He exhaled, covering his mouth. “Where does she work? Can you tell me that at least?”

Bobby sighed. “She’s a teller at the Omega Trust Bank.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t go over there. Just leave it alone, Scott.”

Scott hung up, said goodbye to Napoleon, and rushed toward the entrance doors of the library.

Ms. Ingle, the head librarian ran from behind the front desk. “Where are you going?”

“It’s an emergency.”

“But you were late this morning.” She hurried outside after him and stood at the doors. “You have a job to do.”

Scott got to his midnight blue, Toyota Yaris, digging for his keys. “I’ll be back in a little while.”