"He's your friend?"

I realized I might have stepped in it.

"Well, an acquaintance, you could say."

"Well, he owes me some money."

"Really? What happened?"

"It's a long story. But I sold him some books out of a collection I was handling and he paid very promptly. Paid with a money order and everything was fine. So when he wanted more books I sent them before I got his money order. Big mistake. That was three months ago and I haven't gotten a dime from him. If you see this acquaintance of yours again, tell him I want my money."

"I will, Ed. That's too bad. I didn't know the guy was a rip-off artist. What books did he buy?"

"He's into Poe, so I sold him some books out of the Rodway collection. Some old ones. Pretty nice books. Then he ordered more when I got another collection in. He didn't pay for them."

My heart rate was kicking into an upper gear. What Thomas was telling me was confirmation that Backus was somehow in play here. I wanted to stop the charade at that moment and tell Thomas what was happening and that he was in danger. But I held back. I needed to talk to Rachel first and form the right plan.

"I think I saw those books in his place," I said. "Was it poetry?" "Mostly, yeah. He didn't really care for the short stories."

"Did these books have the original collector's name in them? Rodman?"

"No, Rodway. And yes, they had his library seal embossed in them. That hurt the price but your friend wanted the books."

I nodded. I saw my theory coming together. It was more than theory now.

"Harry, what are you really up to?"

I looked at Thomas.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You're asking a lot of-*

A loud ring sounded from the back of the store, cutting Thomas off.

"Never mind, Harry," he said. "It's more books. I need to go take a delivery."

"Oh.'*

"I'll see you later."

"Yeah,"

I watched him leave the counter area and head to the back. I checked my watch. It was noon. The director was stepping before the cameras to talk about the explosion in the desert and say that it was the work of the killer known as the Poet. Could this be the moment Backus chose to strike Thomas? My throat and chest tightened as though the air had been sucked out of the room. As soon as Thomas slipped through the doorway to the stockroom, I moved back to the counter and leaned over to look at the security monitor. I knew if Thomas checked the backroom monitor he would see that I hadn't left the store, but I was counting on him going right to the door.

On the corner of the screen showing the stockroom I saw Thomas lean his face up to the rear door and look through a peephole. Apparently unalarmed by what he saw, he proceeded to turn the dead bolt and open the door. I stared intently at the screen, even though the image was small and I was viewing it upside down.

Thomas stepped back from the door and a man entered. He was wearing a dark shirt and matching shorts. He was carrying two boxes, one stacked on top of the other, and Thomas directed him to a nearby worktable. The deliveryman put the boxes down and then took an electronic clipboard off the top box and turned back to Thomas for a delivery confirmation signature.

Everything seemed all right. It was a routine delivery. I quickly got off the counter and went to the door. As I opened it I heard an electronic chime sound but I didn't worry about that. I headed back to the Mercedes, running through the rain after putting the autographed book under my raincoat.

"What was all of that, with you leaning over the counter like that?" Rachel asked once I was behind the wheel again.

"He's got a security box. There was a delivery and I wanted to make sure it was legit before I left. It's after three o'clock in D.C."

"I know. So what did you learn from him or were you just in there buying a book?"

"I learned a lot. Tom Walling is a customer. Or was, until he stiffed him for an order of Edgar Allan Poe books. It was mail order like we thought. He never saw him, just sent the books out to Nevada."

Rachel sat up straight.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. The books were out of some guy's collection that Ed was selling. So they were marked and therefore traceable. That was why Backus burned them all in the fire barrel. He couldn't risk that they'd survive the blast intact and be traced back to Thomas."

"Why?"

"Because he is definitely in play here. He's got to be setting up on Thomas."

I started the car.

"Where are you going?"

"Around back to make sure about the delivery. Besides, it's good to change locations every now and then."

"Oh, you're giving me surveillance one-oh-one lessons now."

Without responding I drove around to the back of the plaza and saw the brown UPS van parked by the open rear door of Book Carnival. We drove on by and during the brief glimpse I had of the back of the truck and the open door of the stockroom, I saw the deliveryman struggling to carry several boxes up a ramp to the back of his truck. The returns, I guessed. I kept driving without hesitation.

"He's legit," Rachel said.

"Yeah."

"You didn't give yourself away with Thomas, did you?"

"No. He was suspicious but then I was sort of saved by the bell. I wanted to talk to you first. I think we need to bring him in on it." "Harry, we talked about this. If we bring him into it he may change his routine and demeanor. It might be a giveaway. If Backus has been watching him, any little change could be a tell."

"And if we don't warn him and this thing goes wrong, then we…"

I didn't finish. We had been over this argument twice before, each of us alternately taking the other side. It was a classic contradiction of intentions. Do we ensure Thomas's safety at the risk of losing Backus? Or do we risk Thomas's safety to ensure getting close to Backus? It was all about the means to an end and neither of us would be happy no matter which way we went.

"I guess that means we can't let anything go wrong," she said.

"Right. What about backup?" "I also think it's too risky. The more people we bring into this, the greater the chance of tipping our hand."

I nodded. She was right. I found a spot on the opposite end of the parking lot from where we had parked and watched before. I wasn't kidding myself, though. There were only so many cars in the lot in the middle of a rainy weekday and we were noticeable. I started to think that maybe we were like Ed Thomas's cameras. Strictly a deterrent. Maybe Backus had seen us and it had stopped him from moving forward with his plan. For now.

"Customer," Rachel said.

I looked across the lot and saw a woman heading toward the store. She looked familiar to me and then I remembered her from the Sportsman's Lodge. "That's his wife. I met her once. I think her name is Pat."

"She bringing him lunch, you think?"

"Maybe. Or maybe she works there."

We watched for a while but there was no sign of Thomas or his wife in the front of the store. I grew concerned and took out my cell phone and called the store, hoping the call would bring them to the front counter, where the phone was.,

But a woman answered right away and there was still no one at the counter. I quickly hung up.

"There must be a phone in the stockroom."

"Who answered?"

"The wife."

"Should I take a walk and go in?"

"No. If Backus is watching he'll recognize you. You can't be seen."

"All right, then what?"

"Then nothing. They're probably at the table I saw in the back room having lunch. Be patient."

"I don't want to be patient. I don't like just sitting-"

She stopped when we saw Ed Thomas walk out the front of the store. He was wearing a raincoat and carrying an umbrella and a briefcase. He got into the car we had seen him arrive at the store in that morning, a green Ford Explorer. Through the store's front window I saw his wife take a seat on a stool behind the front counter.