Chapter 12 #2
Stella’s stomach performed a somersault. “Mr. Crusoe?”
The man with Jack turned his tanned face to Stella and lifted his thick eyebrows in response. “Yes?” Unraveling, threadlike
words uncoiled from his rope and dropped to the ground like sand falling through an hourglass. Orinoco. Wooden cross. Friday.
“This is really happening,” Stella said, looking at Jack.
His hazel-eyed gaze found hers. “No one else for you to pass the buck to.”
Stella’s thoughts felt as though they were pushing through pine tar. Words drifted past her line of vision like leaves caught
in a swirling wind. Ink pad. Breath of life. Sunlight.
Jack stepped into her personal space. Rather than backing away from him, Stella didn’t move. She could smell the scent of
the forest on him—Douglas fir and winter with an earthy undertone. She blinked the haze from her eyes.
“Captain Hook, courtesy of your irresponsibility, is running amok in the library.”
Stella laughed because that was the only response her brain could produce. She covered her mouth, but more hysterical laughter
pushed through her fingers.
“It’s not funny,” Vicki said. “He’s really intimidating. I mean, he’s playing the part really well—a little too well. Jack
was nice enough to try to help me find him and tell him we won’t be needing his services today or any other day. Arnie wouldn’t
approve. You should have heard the children screaming.”
Stella’s laughter stopped abruptly. The realization of what she’d done caused stomach acid to bubble up her throat. “I think
I’m going to throw up.”
Vicki dragged Stella to the circulation desk and pushed her into the desk chair. The metal trash can scraped over the tiles as Vicki slid it toward her and told Stella to lean over it.
“I’ll get some cold towels from the bathroom. Stay here,” Vicki said as she hurried off.
A shadow fell over Stella’s body. She cut her gaze up to see Jack standing near her.
He placed his hand on her back and rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades. His touch comforted her for a couple
of seconds, and then it sent warmth traveling from her spine to radiate through her body. Her head throbbed.
Jack shook his head. “This isn’t the worst situation I’ve seen, but Captain Hook? Really, Stella? Of all the jerks you could
have brought here, why him?”
She hung her head. “I wasn’t thinking about what would happen if it worked. Can we return Hook to his book before the two
weeks are up?”
“There are ways to return characters early,” Jack answered, hesitation in his voice.
Stella gazed past him to the shipwrecked man, who stood looking around the foyer, apparently on high alert for a rogue pirate.
Arnie had mentioned that sending characters back before the two weeks were over was an unpleasant choice. What did that mean?
“What ways?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing we need to discuss now. We have bigger issues.”
She made a mental note to ask again later. “And that’s Robinson Crusoe?”
“At least he’s accommodating,” Jack said.
Stella remembered the pull to grab Robinson Crusoe from the shelf. Had something inside her known they’d need his help?
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing you didn’t invite any other troublemakers.”
“Did you know the book club invited Darcy to go into town and have coffee with them? He was outside on the back steps.”
Jack’s skin paled for a moment. “I’ve been too busy trying to find Hook. Darcy wouldn’t have gone. He doesn’t like crowds,
but he knows better anyway. We all do. Well, the good ones of us.”
Stella nodded. “Arnie told me everything. About the magic, the warnings about what happens if we lose characters, and about
you.”
Jack touched her shoulder and then stepped aside as Vicki approached. Under his breath, he said, “We’ll discuss that later.”
Vicki returned with a wad of wet paper towels. She pressed them against Stella’s neck, and Stella thanked her.
“Should we tell Arnie?” Vicki asked.
“No!” Jack and Stella said together, surprising Vicki.
“We’ve got this under control,” Jack said.
“We do?” Vicki asked. “You don’t even know where the crazy pirate is.”
Stella stood and wiped the cold, wet paper towels over her face before tossing them into the trash can. “We’ll find him,”
she said, sounding more confident than she felt. “Vicki, you stay here at the desk in case anyone needs you. Jack, Mr. Crusoe,
and I will split up and search the library. He has to be here somewhere, right?”
Vicki looked relieved to stay in relative safety behind the circulation desk.
Was Hook still in the library? What if he slipped out when they weren’t looking? What would happen to Peter Pan’s world if
Captain Hook never existed? Stella realized Arnie had been right not to tell her the truth sooner. She was too irresponsible
to handle it. Look what havoc she had already caused.
Stella walked away from the circulation desk with Jack and Mr. Crusoe. “What’s the plan?”
A line creased between Jack’s dark brows. “I don’t think we should split up. Hook isn’t the most reputable character. He’s not the cartoon version you’re imagining.”
Stella narrowed her gaze. “How do you know what I’m imagining?”
“Because I’d bet you’re thinking about Disney’s Captain Hook.”
“How do you even know about that version of Captain Hook?” Stella asked.
“Arnie and I have often discussed various iterations of characters,” he said. “This is not that older, wig-wearing guy looking for a crocodile.”
“So he’s not a vain, evil coward with a childish temper who periodically cries out in terror?” Jack shook his head. “What
about Barrie’s blue-eyed man with a handsome countenance and elegant diction, who wasn’t actually murderous?”
Jack shook his head again.
“Whose heinous version is Hook then?” Stella made a shooing motion with her hand. “This will go a whole lot faster if we split up. I’ll shout if I see
him, and then you two can come and help if needed.”
Jack’s voice was flat when he echoed, “If needed.” He slipped a knife sheathed in a narrow holster out of his pocket and removed
the knife from its case. “Take this.”
Stella handled the knife as though it were a snake. “Unless this is an extreme way for me to open the mail, I’d rather not.”
Jack closed Stella’s fingers over the hilt and held his hand over hers. “It will at least surprise him long enough for you
to scream for help.”
Stella’s eyes widened, and her pulse quickened. “How scary is this version?”
“He’s a low-life pirate willing to do whatever is necessary to get what he wants,” Mr. Crusoe said. “And he’ll likely try to take you captive, looking the way you do. But we’ll keep you and the children safe from the devil’s army.”
Stella glanced at Jack. “Looking the way I do? The devil’s army?” She eyed the knife in her hand and held it awkwardly by
her thigh. “I’ll take the second-floor historical section.”
“I advise against splitting up,” Jack said again.
“Noted. Let’s do this fast. The quicker we find him, the quicker we can make sure nothing else bad happens,” she said as she
walked up the main staircase, holding the knife away from her body and praying she didn’t fall and cut herself. She headed
toward the historical section, where she peered around bookshelves and glanced under tables. It’s not like he would hide under there, she thought after she’d leaned over and looked beneath a third study table.
On a final sweep of the historical section, she glanced at the far corner and gasped. A lean, well-built man stood with his
back to her. He wore a black leather duster jacket over fitted black pants and black boots that came up to his knees. His
close-cropped hair matched the color of his clothing, and he stood with one hand pressed against the tall glass window that
showed a view of the grassy lawn behind the library. His other arm hung at his side, ending with a sharpened, gleaming silver
hook.
He turned at the sound of her inhale. With his strikingly light eyes and scarred, smirking face, this Captain Hook was definitely
not Disney’s or Barrie’s version.