Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set by Nanci Rathbun (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📕

shut-eye. We’re expecting twins in a few months. She gets pretty tired and Joey is a three-year old whirlwind.”

By now, we were at my unit. “I do want to see a picture,” I told him as I ushered him inside.

We settled at the breakfast bar and I poured coffee for us both. Spider showed me the family photo: him on a big John Deere riding mower, a miniature version of himself alongside on a toy John Deere, and a dark-haired beauty, gazing at them with an indulgent smile.

“Lovely family,” I told him. “I’ll show you my son and daughter and my grandkids later.” I finished the yoghurt—by now, the muffin was cold—and we took our mugs into the living room, where I pointed out my family.

“Nice,” he said. “Very nice. I can see me and Magdalena a few years down the road, with grandsons who all have unruly hair and twitchy eyebrows, and granddaughters who are beautiful and serene.”

“May it be,” I told him. Then we got down to business.

Spider would be my “day man,” because Family bodyguards were conspicuous, like rougher versions of the Secret Service. He walked the condo, approved my internal security, and told me to call when I planned to leave the building. He’d be outside in his company van and would follow me unobtrusively until the night team showed up around six. They would be Family, unless I had plans that precluded having bulky guys with attitude at my side. We exchanged cell phone numbers and he left.

Time to touch bases with Adriana. She picked up on the first ring, breathless. “Are you okay?” I asked, after identifying myself.

“Yes, I was just running for the phone. I’m at the hotel pool.”

“Don’t say anything that might tell someone where you are. Even knowing there’s a pool eliminates a lot of places.”

“Oh. I never thought of that.”

“Why don’t you call me back from a landline? Say, in the next hour?”

“I’ll just take a quick shower to wash off the pool chemicals and call you right back.”

It was about twenty minutes later when my kitchen phone rang. “Angie, it’s Adriana.” She still sounded breathless. “Did you talk to Bobbie? Did he tell you about Bart’s building?”

“He did. Were you scared?”

“A little, at first. But Mary made a lot of jokes and pretty soon, I was more amazed than afraid. Imagine, tunnels under the street!”

“I knew there were some downtown, but I didn’t know that about the Third Ward. How did you sleep last night?”

“Not all that great. Mary kept leaving the room to patrol and that woke me up. I’m not complaining, though. I was glad she was there. The last time I remember hearing her, it was around three. After that, I crashed.”

“Is she still there?”

“No. She went home around eight. Bram York is here now, but I only notify him when I’m leaving the room.” She giggled. “He was sitting in a lounge chair at the pool when you called—in khakis and a polo shirt. Talk about out of place!”

“Well, he could hardly wear swim trunks. Where would he hide his gun?” A twist on the old risqué joke popped into my head—is that a gun in your swimsuit, or are you happy to see me? So wrong, I chided myself, especially with Adriana. She laughed again, sounding young and carefree. “What are your plans for the day?” I asked.

“I suppose I can’t call my friend Jennifer?”

“Probably not a good idea. Anyone who wanted to find you would have her followed.”

She hesitated. “We talked about shopping for clothes, but I’m sure you’re too busy.”

“Let’s see. I’m meeting Bobbie at one for a training session on background checks. Why don’t I call you when we finish? We should be done by two-thirty at the latest. I don’t want to overload him.”

“Great. I’ll be waiting. This will be so much fun, Angie!”

“It will.” I meant it. I love to shop and I really wanted to see Adriana in flattering clothes.

I called Lily at the UWM library, to see if she had any updates on the book of Bosniak poetry or Professor Kolar.

“Angie, I was planning to call you this morning. Can you come down here in person? I have something to show you.”

“I’m on my way.” I notified Spider and left the building in the Miata. Knowing about his special ops background, I felt confident that he would have my back. If the bad guys wanted me, they’d be in for a surprise.

There were no empty spaces on the street that fronted the library. I drove a couple blocks and saw a residential home with a sign offering parking in their driveway for four bucks an hour—a bit more than the U’s parking ramps, but I don’t park in ramps. The Secure Windows and Doors van pulled into the same driveway, as I walked down the block toward the library. Spider got out with a flyer in hand and started to talk to the homeowner. Nice cover.

Lily was waiting for me at the information desk. She asked a student worker to cover for her while she helped a ‘visiting scholar’ with a project. We went into a workroom and closed the door.

“Angie, I think I’m onto something,” she said as she sat at the room’s computer. A few keystrokes, and she had an image on the screen. “Look—this is the same book in the photo, the one from the victims’ home. But here’s what’s really interesting.” She tapped and a web page headed “INTERPOL—CRIME AREAS—WORKS OF ART” appeared. When she entered the name of the book (using the Latin alphabet), up popped a listing:

Type: DOCUMENT/BOOK/PRINTED MATTER/BOOK

Period: Circa 1582

Artist(s): Mulhid Vahdeti

Height: 18.5 cm

Width: 14.5 cm

Materials: CARDBOARD, PAPER

Case happened in: Bosnia

Date: 1994

“So the book is on Interpol’s stolen art works database. Great job, Lily.” I pulled my tablet computer from my briefcase and accessed the notes on the case. “The theft occurred a year before the victims left Bosnia and came to the States.”

“Then they might be the