Book Scavenger (The Book Scavenger series) by Jennifer Chambliss Bertman

Author:Jennifer Chambliss Bertman [Bertman, Jennifer Chambliss]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781627795265
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)
Published: 2015-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

22

THE CHIME of jingle bells announced Emily’s and James’s entrance into Hollister’s store. Even though Mr. Remora knew her only through her Book Scavenger profile as Surly Wombat and probably hadn’t realized they’d crossed paths the other day, she still felt a stirring of butterflies when they stepped inside. Knowing that he was looking for her and the book would make it harder for her to act normal if he happened to be there again. But Hollister’s store was empty, at least it looked that way from where they stood.

“Hollister?” James called.

They heard his whistle in return. They wound their way through the packed bookshelves, taking a detour by the crafts section so Emily could stoop down and check on the Inkheart book.

“Still there,” she said. She regularly checked its status on the Book Scavenger website, but you never knew if someone might have scavenged it but not logged the find.

They found Hollister in the middle of the store, sorting paperbacks out of a cardboard box. He held a book close to his eyes, then wagged it like a winning lottery ticket. “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest! Nice used condition. That’s a goodie!”

Hollister looked at them again as if he hadn’t fully seen them the first time. “Well, hey there, you two! Come to pick through my fine literature selection?”

“Actually, I’m looking for books about ciphers or making up codes,” James said.

Hollister tapped a finger to the tip of his nose, contemplating, then turned and with his swaying shuffle led them deeper into the book maze. Dusty lightbulbs dangled above and created dull pools of light to guide their way.

As they walked, Emily said, “We went to that restaurant you told us about, Hollister. Remember? The Black Cat?”

“You didn’t go there,” Hollister said. The floorboards creaked underfoot.

“Um, actually we did,” James said.

Hollister stopped, leaned close to a bookshelf, and trailed an index finger across the spines as he scanned the titles. He pulled Breaking the Maya Code off the shelf and handed it to James, then gestured for them to follow him back up to the front of the store.

“The Black Cat’s closed,” Hollister said. “Been closed since the sixties.”

James and Emily exchanged a look, uncertain if Hollister was teasing them or serious.

“Well, it must have reopened, Hollister, because we went there,” Emily said.

“On Broadway,” James added.

“There’s your problem. The one I’m talking about was on Montgomery, not Broadway. By the Transamerica building—that old steel-and-concrete pyramid.”

Emily stopped walking, and James bumped into her from behind.

“It closed?” Emily asked.

“In 1963. Same year President Kennedy was shot.” Hollister pulled Codebreaker from a shelf and handed it to James.

James paid for his books. Once they were outside, Emily grabbed his arm and swung it like she was ringing a giant bell.

“We went to the wrong one! I told you it wasn’t a dead end!”

“All right, all right.” James laughed and pulled his arm free to hold his hands up in surrender. “I concede defeat! But there’s only one way to find out for sure.

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