Fanatics Read Online Free Page B

catch?”
    “Marco warned me there’d be one, but I’d like to accept anyway.”
    “But?”
    “Well, it all
sounds
straightforward enough.”
    Mrs. Stoppini had replied to my two questions very clearly. Yes, the new mantel should be an exact copy of the old one, and yes, some of the books required full notification, but not the majority.
    “The woodworking will take time,” I continued. “I can replicate the mantel and refinish the floor in front of the hearth. There may be damage to the bookcases that I didn’t notice. But cataloguing all those books … I’ll never get through it.”
    “Ow!” Raphaella smirked, hands over her ears.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “The loud clang from the hint you just dropped.”
    “It might be fun, you and I working together.”
    “Hmm.”
    “And we could take breaks, go for a swim, smooch.”
    “Hmm.”
    “But I guess, with MOO and all … And your mother will want you to work in the store as much as you can.”
    Mrs. Skye owned and operated the Demeter Natural Food and Medicinal Herbs Shop on Peter Street. She didn’t like me.
    “Don’t lay the guilt on too thick,” Raphaella said. “How many books did you say?”
    “Four thousand, minimum. Maybe five.”
    “And how many are to be fully catalogued?”
    “Fewer than a quarter, I’d guess.”
    “Hmm.”
    “That’s your third ‘Hmm.’ ”
    “It might be interesting.”
    “That isn’t the first word that springs to mind,” I admitted.
    “Working with you, I mean.”
    “Oh. Well, definitely.”
    I had been careful to describe the mansion, the eccentric Mrs. Stoppini, and what little I had learned about the tragically dead Professor Corbizzi in a way that I hoped would intrigue Raphaella. But I hadn’t mentioned the uncomfortable, oppressive atmosphere of the library or
how
the prof had died.
    “I’ll talk it over with Mother,” Raphaella said. “Maybe I can work away at the books in my spare time.”
    “As soon as she hears you’ll be with me she’ll object,” I said, turning on the gas under the wok.
    Raphaella’s mother had never accepted me. She wanted Raphaella to lead a life without males in it. When Raphaella was a little girl her father had humiliated her mother by having affairs and eventually being charged with sexual exploitation of a woman in his firm. Mrs. Skye had learned to dislike and distrust men in general. But in my bumbling manner, without really knowing how I had done it, I had won Raphaella’s heart and ruined Mrs. Skye’s plans. She wasn’t grateful.
    “Oh, I don’t know. I think she’s warming up to you. Give her a few years.”
    “So you’ll help?”
    “How could I turn you down?”
    “You’re an angel,” I said with relief.
    “But there’s one condition.”
    “Which is?”
    “You have to tell me what’s bothering you about the Corbizzi place.”
    Raphaella’s ability to tune in to my feelings used to catch me by surprise, but not anymore. She had what her late grandmother had called “the gift,” although Raphaella sometimes complained it was more like a curse. She could sense things—emotions and even past happenings. I’d seen her walk into a building or a churchyard and
know
that something horrible had occurred there because she felt the presence of the people who had suffered. Raphaella once told me it was as if she was a string on a musical instrument and vibrated in sympathy with her surroundings. But her powers, her spiritualism, were a secret only she, her mother, and I knew.
    “That library is creepy,” I replied. “I can’t put it into words. It’s more than the fact that the professor died there. It’s as if the room has … an attitude—a negative attitude. It doesn’t want strangers.”
    Raphaella nodded as if everything I said made perfect sense to her. “I see. And that makes you uneasy—and a little scared.”
    “Yeah.”
    I poured a dollop of peanut oil into the wok and flipped on the range hood fan. “Hold your