Forbidden Guest House novel · Chapter 13 of 32

Chapter 13: The Stub

I held the ledger up to Leif's phone light.

The stub was maybe half an inch wide.

Whoever cut the page had been careful, but not careful enough.

Along the binding, in faded blue ink, was the very start of the first line.

Jul 3. Mattson. Cash. 40,0

The rest was gone with the page.

"That's his name," Leif said.

His voice was very quiet.

"That's his name in their book."

I took a picture of the stub. Then three more, with the box label in the frame.

"It's not enough," I said. "It's half a line."

"It's half a line they said didn't exist."

Above us, the floorboards creaked.

Not the slow shuffle of the church lady.

Fast steps. Hard soles.

Somebody came down the back stairs two at a time.

"Kari?"

It was Erik.

I knew that voice.

Leif took the July ledger out of my hands.

He flipped it to the stub, opened his pocketknife and ran the blade down the binding in one clean stroke.

The stub came loose.

He put it in my palm and closed my fingers over it.

"Go," he said.

"Leif, no."

"Front of the aisle. Act like you were sorting 1977."

Erik's flashlight swung into the end of the row.

I shoved the stub inside my bra and turned around holding a box marked 1977.

"What are you doing down here?" Erik said.

He was in his golf jacket, out of breath, his hair wet from a shower.

"Volunteering," I said. "It's on the sign-up sheet. Your mother organized it."

He shone the light past me.

Leif was kneeling over the open 1981 box with the July ledger in his hands.

Erik's face changed.

He came down the aisle so fast he hit the shelf with his shoulder.

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