Page 82 of Booked for Theft

Unfortunately, there was no way of ranking the boxes by importance. Judging from the first few I opened, someone had taken the haphazard approach, shoving everything inside with no care if it were damaged or disorganized. I could only assume campaign workers had given up on finesse, given a deadline to get everything packed up and put into storage.

As such, we took the same approach, transferring the campaign material into a new box before cramming as many of our falsified documents as possible into one before repeating the process.

With all of us working together, it took us a little over an hour to load the truck, stage the building, and get to the serious work of lighting everything ablaze.

Much to my alarm and disgust, the old gas station still had fuel in their tanks, more than enough to go up into a rather nasty explosion with sufficient sparks.

To mask the possibility of arson, the illusionists concocted a leaking gas tanker going down the street, with most of the spill happening along the road near the station, which left a trail of danger in its wake. The illusion had the tanker pulling over near both buildings, with a rather large puddle of fuel left by the time the driver finished the repairs and departed. Zachariah handled spilling gasoline up the street for several blocks to match his working. Then the trail ended with a few drops here and there, suggesting the driver had noticed the problem quickly and worked diligently to correct it.

Only when everyone was safely out of the way and we were prepared to depart did Bradley’s father splash some gas near the sparking wire before bolting for his SUV. Once inside, he moved to a safe distance.

The minutes ticked by, and I wondered how many sparks it would take to ignite the gas.

Ten minutes later, the whole place went up with a whoosh, and I gasped at the rapid spread of the flames. The puddles burned, and the trail of gasoline led the fire to the station itself. Between the opened tank and the fumes surely rising from below the asphalt, the inevitable explosion rattled my teeth in my head and cast a blinding light.

Bradley cursed. “We better get out of here, Dad.”

“The team is covering everything with illusions, even the acoustics,” he replied. “Calm your ass down, boy. This is going to plan. Honestly, I’m a little alarmed it’s going perfectly to plan thus far. That doesn’t usually happen. Zachariah, you were careful with the creation of the tanker driver, correct?”

“I modeled it off someone who passed away a year and a half ago, with slight changes. There might be someone with a similar appearance, but yes. I was careful. I checked the tags on a burner laptop before using them on the vehicle. It won’t take them long to figure out it’s an invalid plate. I made some adjustments to the plate to make it clear it was a driver using a falsified plate rather than a stolen one. I’m sure it’ll send the government on a merry chase once they decide to search deeper.” The illusionist chuckled. “It’s a little sad that some of our best work is wasted on cameras, but the cause is good. Our night isn’t over yet, but I’m confident that Randell, Gabby, and Mark can get the truck to your place in the Hamptons, unload it, put everything in the bunker, and make the truck disappear.”

I eyed Zachariah. “What do you mean by make the truck disappear?”

“By ten in the morning, that truck will be nothing more than scrap metal and a memory,” the illusionist informed me. “What doesn’t exist can’t bite us later.”

I turned my ire onto Bradley’s father. “Where did you get that truck, sir?”

“I bought it for a thousand dollars two years ago, and we already cleaned it of serial numbers just in case. We’ve been testing illusions on it for longevity and so on. I registered the vehicle as destroyed six months ago, and we’ve been storing it at the main office in the garage under illusions just in case I might need it.”

At two years ago, he’d started making plans long before Senator Godrin’s assassination at my branch. “Why did you do that?”

“I saw the writing on the wall a while ago, and I wanted a getaway vehicle available to staff at my headquarters. I have a legitimate truck in a different color we use for business, but this one? I wanted it in case it was needed—and it was needed. And don’t you judge me, little girl. You were doing what at the library right under our noses?”

“Living happily albeit painfully,” I replied.

He huffed at me.

I smiled back.

“Let’s just go, Dad. The faster we’re out of here, the better off we are. Let’s not get caught at the scene of the crime.”

At four in the morning, Zachariah escorted us back to our condo, using his magic to disguise our passage. Bradley and I carried a box each, and once safely inside with the door locked, we went to the dining room, set down our plunder, and took a few minutes to tend to our beasts before taking quick showers and catching a few hours of sleep.

At ten, muttering curses while making coffee, I contemplated burning the entirety of the government to the ground. Once Ajani suckered me out of a second breakfast and the kittens were enjoying a snack, I headed for the dining room to begin the tedious process of sorting through papers.

Bradley, who’d decided he needed another shower if he wanted to be remotely functional, came in wearing one of his best suits, his hair still damp. “Mom is going to bring Chinese food over at one. Dad’s still sleeping, and she’s contemplating another nap. Beatrice and Mickey are going to the branch to ferry books upstairs. Her boss called her because one of your co-workers called him, indicating that you are going to be championing for a new elevator and a wheelchair lift.”

Busted. “I did mention that to Henrietta, but I was going to handle it on Monday.”

“Henrietta decided to take it off your plate. Both requests were approved, and the main branch is going to take care of the contract for the work to be done; they already know how to handle it because of their elevator situation. Expect a month for the new elevator to be installed.”

“That’s it?”

“The shaft is already there, so it’s a matter of pulling everything out, installing the new components, and making certain everything is to code. The wheelchair lift will be installed on Monday. That’s easy. Expensive, but easy.”

“Will a librarian have to operate it?”

“Nope. Any library card holder will be able to activate it without assistance. It will also read identification cards for the entirety of the United States, and medical cards will work with it, too. There’ll be a call button if someone doesn’t have a valid card, in which case the library’s security guard can help patrons,” Bradley informed me.