Chapter 67 The Bookshop
"Tell him Catherine Bell sent you. I'm sure that'll get his attention." Grant's smile turned grim. "Whether it gets you killed or helps... that's up to him."
Eva didn't tell Adrian about her plan until they were already on the road.
They flew to Vermont on the Cavanaugh private jet, and now they were driving through snowy countryside toward a town that hardly appeared on most maps.
Adrian was furious when she told him where they were going, but beneath his anger, Eva could see his inner struggle.
He was worried for their safety, fought with his wish to protect her, and doubt about what lay ahead wore down his determination.
"This is insane," he said for the fifth time. "We're driving into the middle of nowhere to meet a man who might kill us on sight."
"Don't be dramatic. He won't kill us. He wants the Architect dead as much as we do."
"How can you be so sure? You don't know that. You're trusting Solomon Grant, who would sell his own mother for the right price."
"Grant keeps his promises when it suits him, and right now, it does." Eva watched the snowy trees pass by outside the window.
"You can't trust him, Eva."
"Come on, we need allies, Adrian. People who know what Catherine Bell is capable of. She threatened my family and gave me a week to give up. Marcus Cole has held a grudge against her for twenty-three years, and he has a reason to want her gone."
"Assuming he doesn't shoot first and ask questions later," Adrian commented.
Eva pursed her lips, "That's why I'm going in alone."
Adrian's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Absolutely not."
"He'll see a security team as a threat. You're tall and strong, and you look intimidating. He'll see you as a threat, but not me." Eva smiled. "I'm just a mother trying to protect her kids. No one would be afraid of me."
"Eva—"
"This is my decision. Don't try to change my mind," her voice softened. "I need to do this, Adrian. I have to look this man in the eye and show him we're on the same side. I can't do that with an army behind me."
Adrian was silent for a long moment.
"If you're not out in two hours, I'm coming in after you."
"Give me three."
"Two and a half. It's final."
Eva leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Deal."
The town matched Grant's description exactly: it was plain in size and character, with faded storefronts and a nearly empty main street that made it almost invisible.
This was the kind of place chosen by people who wanted to stay hidden, its privacy and isolation making it a perfect hideout for those who wanted to disappear.
The bookshop sat in a narrow building on the main street, squeezed between a hardware store and a diner that probably hadn't changed its menu since 1975. A faded, hand-painted sign above the door read "Wright's Books."
Eva pushed open the door, a small bell announcing her arrival.
Inside, the shop felt small and crowded, dust floating in the beams of light filtering through the windows, while the strong smell of old paper mingled with a hint of dampness.
Narrow aisles wound between bookshelves packed tightly with volumes, their spines faded and worn to the touch, some leaning precariously atop others.
Books by unknown authors stood alongside famous classics, arranged not by alphabet or type, but by a hidden system that showed the owner's personal ideas about what mattered.
Each shelf seemed carefully arranged, with every book's place showing the owner's deep involvement and opinion about literature.
A cat dozed on a stack of encyclopedias. The air smelled of old paper and coffee.
Behind the counter, a man looked up from the book he was reading.
He was older than Eva expected, maybe in his mid-seventies, with white hair and deep-set eyes. His face showed the weight of memories he probably wished he could forget.
When he looked at her, Eva felt like he was sizing her up, judging her by some private standard.
"Can I help you?" His voice was quiet, cautious.
"I'm looking for Marcus Cole."
The man's face stayed the same, but something changed in his eyes.
"Don't know anyone by that name."
"Then I'm looking for the man who helped Catherine Bell build the Consortium. The one she tried to kill twenty-three years ago. The man who's been hiding in small towns ever since, waiting for a chance to get back what she took from him."
Silence.
The cat on the encyclopedia stack yawned and stretched.
"Who sent you?" the man asked finally.
"Solomon Grant gave me your location. But my reason for being here is personal. I am not working for him, but for my own family." Eva's voice shook slightly as she spoke, showing both determination and hidden fear. She stepped closer.
"Catherine Bell—the Architect—has threatened my family. My children. She gave me seven days to give up or watch everything I love be destroyed."
Something flickered in the man's eyes—recognition and understanding.
"And you came to me because...?"
"Because you're the only person alive who knows her well enough to help me stop her." Eva held his gaze steadily. "I know what she did to you. I know you've waited over twenty years for a chance to fight back. I'm giving you that chance."
The man looked at her for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he closed his book and set it on the counter.
"My name is Thomas Wright now. Marcus Cole died in a warehouse fire in 1999." His voice was calm but firm, though a flash of old pain showed on his face as he spoke. After a moment, he added, "But if you want to talk about Catherine Bell... I guess we can talk."
He moved toward a door at the back of the shop.
"Come with me. And don't try anything foolish—I may look like a harmless old man, but I assure you, I am not."
Eva followed him into the darkness beyond the door.
The back room was very different from the dusty shop in front. It was clean and tidy, with maps, papers, and photos covering every surface.
Marcus Cole—now Thomas Wright—motioned for Eva to sit and took a seat across from her.
"How much do you know about Catherine Bell?"