Page 106 of This is a Kissing Book

“Good thing we got out when we did.” I sink deeper into the sofa, the reality of our situation fully hitting me.

“One of those men said ‘Drecken.’” Linc glowers.

So he heard it too. That means these weren’t goons sent by my father’s loan shark. “Do you think this could have to do with the insurance fraud I discovered?”

He goes very still. “I’m afraid so.”

I rub my temples. “But I’m just a low-level worker.”

“You’re the CEO’s son’s executive assistant. My father wants me to take over the company. Me, not Maxine Drecken.” He looks sharply my way. “If he’s involved in the fraud, it could be because he doesn’t trust her and thinks I’ll keep quiet or ...” But he doesn’t finish his thought.

“There’s only one way to find out,” I say gently.

“That’s not a conversation I’m eager to have until I build a stronger case.”

“I’ll help.”

“I can’t let you get any deeper into this than you already are. Jules, it’s not safe.”

“As you said, I’m your assistant. I’m going to do my job …” I start. Before he can argue, I add, “In for a penny …”

He lets out an unsteady breath and leans his elbows on his knees. “Jules, there’s something you should know⁠—”

Nerves already jangled, if it’s about Taylor, after that kiss, I can’t hear about his past romances. I interrupt, standing abruptly. “We need to find that private library while we’re still here. Then we’ll turn our attention back to the discrepancies and insurance.”

It’s best to stick to the facts, be methodical, and solve this mystery. After that, I can consider the one plaguing my heart.

The next morning, after a night of restless sleep filled with dreams of collapsing tunnels and being chased by human-sized termites, I find Linc already awake. When he sees me, relief relaxes his shoulders as if he’s thankful I’m still alive after our brush with death … or that I didn’t steal away in the middle of the night.

We start our research immediately, cataloguing all the libraries that ever stood in this city, making note of the ones that remain. We detail important dates and any historical relevance. It’s early afternoon when we finally make a positive match. The private library referenced at the Memorial is still standing and operating as a historic site, open to the public.

As usual, Linc has a car waiting. As we zip through traffic, the events of the last few days trail me, and I cannot help but keep a wary eye out for shady guys lurking around.

Linc remains close to me as we stand at the impressive gates of Tudor Place, a Federalist-style mansion built in 1816 in the heights of Georgetown.

“It doesn’t even feel like we’re in a city,” he says.

“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” I mutter, approaching the elegantly manicured grounds of a home that was once occupied by notable families and hosted the rich, famous, and influential.

After paying for admission, we enter the vestibule, steeped in US history, the house having been once owned by the granddaughter of Martha Washington.

As we admire the antique décor, I say, “No disguises. No fake identities. This is significantly less likely to get us arrested.”

“Let’s not speak too soon. Just stay on this side of the velvet ropes.” He eyes me like I’m tempted to test out a particularly cushy silk chair in the parlor.

We wander through the elegantly appointed rooms until we reach the “office.”

“Do you think the letters could be hidden somewhere in here?” I ask.

Linc shakes his head slowly. “Unlikely. I don’t imagine the owner of the home would’ve let Abraham Lincoln occupy his personal office. Remember, he wasn’t even president yet.”

“So there must be a library elsewhere.”

“Let’s hope so.”

We continue walking, getting an amazing view of the Potomac from the second floor, until we filter back to the first floor, using a back set of stairs. Down the hall, Linc goes still.

“Here it is,” he whispers as if we’re still covert when, as far as anyone is concerned, we’re regular tourists, appreciating history.