The Librarians and the Lost Lamp by Greg Cox Read Free Book Online

aluminum trailer that had clearly seen better days. Rust discolored its once-shiny exterior. Duct tape patched cracked windows or covered them altogether. Weeds infested the lawn, which needed mowing.
    â€œI’m going to go out on a limb,” Stone said, “and predict that Dunphy has upgraded his living situation since winning the lottery.”
    â€œYou’re probably right,” Baird said, “but we’ve got to start somewhere.”
    She walked up to the trailer and knocked on the door. “Mr. Dunphy? Anybody?”
    â€œIf you’re looking for Gus,” a raspy voice interrupted, “you’re fat outta luck. He skipped out a couple days ago, without even saying good-bye.”
    The voice came from an older woman reclining in a lawn chair outside the trailer across the street. Her wizened features reminded Stone of a Rembrandt painting, although none of Rembrandt’s models had been taking a drag on a cigarette while soaking up the sun. Dunphy’s neighbor had a silver beehive hairdo that would have done the Bride of Frankenstein proud, a tank top, shorts, sandals, and pink sunglasses. An open can of beer sat within easy reach atop a plastic cooler next to her chair.
    Stone and the others strolled over to talk to her. “Thanks for letting us know, ma’am. I don’t suppose you know where we might find him?”
    â€œWho’s asking?” She held up her hand to fend off any replies. “Wait, let me guess.” She lifted her shades to reveal canny brown eyes that looked the team over. “Bill collectors? Loan sharks? Ex-wives? Girlfriends? Distant relations looking for a handout?”
    â€œNothing like that, ma’am,” Stone said. “We’re … Librarians.”
    The woman blinked in surprise. “Come again?”
    â€œHe has a number of books overdue,” Cassandra offered by way of explanation. It wasn’t the most far-fetched excuse they’d ever volunteered for snooping around where they didn’t belong. Not by a long shot.
    â€œIs that so?” the woman said. “Never took Gus for much of a reader.”
    â€œHow would you describe him?” Baird asked, fishing for intel. “If you don’t mind me asking, Miss…?”
    â€œCall me Naomi,” the neighbor answered. “Everybody else does.” She took another drag on her cigarette. “Guess you’d call Gus a confirmed gambler, and not a very good one, honestly. Strictly small time and always in hock to somebody. Then again, he did win that lottery, so who am I to talk?”
    â€œAny chance he left a forwarding address?” Stone asked.
    â€œNot that I know. Like I told that other crew, he put this place in his rearview mirror the minute he got that big payout. Can’t say I blame him, really.”
    Stone’s ears perked up. “Other crew?”
    â€œYeah. Some Arab fellas just came looking for Gus yesterday, along with this bossy looker who was way out of Gus’s league, frankly, and had something of an attitude. I told her and her boys just what I’m telling you, that Gus had hightailed it out of here in search of greener pastures, and that I never expect to see his sorry mug again.” Naomi shook her head. “Some people get all the luck.”
    â€œDon’t they just.” Stone glanced back at Dunphy’s trailer. “You think it would be okay if we poked around a bit, just to try to figure out where Gus might have gotten to?”
    â€œBecause of those library books,” Cassandra added. “There’s a waiting list, you see, of people just dying to read those books.…”
    Enough is enough, Cassie, Stone thought. No need to lay it so thick.
    â€œGo ahead.” Naomi shrugged. “No skin off my nose.”
    A baby wailed inside her trailer, calling her from her chair. She stubbed out her cigarette and rose creakily to her feet. “Now if you don’t mind,