Assassin's Kiss

Recon in the Stacks

The redheaded librarian stands behind her large wooden desk wearing a simple brown dress. Her wire spectacles frame her blue eyes, making them stand out in her soft, freckled face. Her hair is pinned up in a braided look. She smiles sweetly as I walk to her desk, half-hidden in the back of the large, quiet building.

"Can I help you?" Her voice is calm, steady, polite.

"That depends," I answer. "Have you seen a man pass through here, about yea tall?" I hold my hand up several inches above my head. "Brown hair, bulky." I slide my hand into the leather bag attached to my skirt and pull out the sketch inside. "Looks something like this."

The brightness in her eyes fades as she bites her lip. "Um... I'm sorry. I can't provide information on other visitors. If you're looking for local resident information, perhaps the census records can help you."

I shake my head. Leaving the sketch on the desk, I lean toward the woman. "I need something a bit more recent and specific." I tilt my head to the side, letting my currently long, silky auburn hair tumble over one shoulder. "Are you sure there isn't anything you can do?" I plead.

I watch for her reaction. Her eyes trail over my hair before returning to my face; she avoids eye contact. Flustered. On the right track.

"Because, see, he has something I really need," I say, leaning further forward to expose a peek down the top of my bodice. The edge of the desk pushes uncomfortably into my hip, but I ignore that. "And I would so appreciate if you could just do me this little, tiny favor and tell me if he's been here today."

"Um—well—I..." Her eyes dart to the tops of my breasts. Pink tinges her cheeks. She clears her throat. "I'm really not supposed to do that." She looks away.

"I wouldn't tell anyone." I place my sun-kissed hand over her pale one on the desktop. "I promise."

She looks down at our hands and chews on her lip again. "I mean—" She takes a breath and looks up at me. "I wish I could help you. Really. But that's against the rules."

I sigh and pull my hand away, straightening up. "I understand." I twist my lips into a frustrated pout. "I guess I'll be leaving then." I put my hand on the sketch to take it.

"Wait!" Her hand darts out and stops mine. "Um... Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Victory. I shrug. "I only came here to find him. He's got something I need. But if you know of a way I can find him..."

"Well... do you have any other details? I can see if we have a record of him. I can't give you any personal details, but if he's in our records, he should be in the census. It could save you some time."

I smile. "That's better than nothing. You're so sweet."

She looks down with a smile. "Oh. Um. Thank you." She turns to the shelf of record books behind her. "Do you have a name or date of visit?"

"Today's date," I say. I walk around the desk to stand next to her.

She turns to place the book on the counter and startles, dropping the large, leather-bound volume. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't—you're not supposed to—"

"I scared you! I'm sorry." I lean down to pick up the book and present it to the woman. It's heavier than I expect. "Here you go."

"Thanks," she says. She sets the book on the counter with a soft thud.

"You never told me your name."

"Oh." She shrugs, tucking a stray wisp of red hair behind her ear. "I'm Millicent."