The Librarians and the Lost Lamp Read Online Free PDF Page B

better.
    Try not to end up on a most-wanted list, Jones, she thought. Just this once.
    â€œSeriously?” Stone reacted indignantly to something in the book he was perusing. His gruff voice held more than a hint of Oklahoma and the rough-and-tumble oil yards where he had once labored. “You call those Aztec fertility symbols? Any fool can tell that they’re obviously Toltec in origin.”
    â€œObviously,” Baird said dryly.
    Stone looked up from his book. “Say, didn’t you and Flynn explore a buried Toltec temple a while ago?” He turned the book toward her. “You remember seeing anything like these petroglyphs when you were there?”
    â€œâ€™Fraid not,” she replied. “I was too busy running from molten lava and a bad-tempered feathered serpent to check out the finer points of the decor.”
    The discussion drew Cassandra out of her private reverie. “Speaking of Flynn, have you heard from him recently?”
    I wish, Baird thought. “Last I heard, he was in Nepal, or maybe Tibet, doing his own thing … as usual.”
    That last part came out a bit more acerbically than she had intended. Although she liked Flynn, and found him oddly attractive, his tendency to run off half cocked and on his own drove her nuts sometimes. Used to being the only Librarian at large, he wasn’t exactly a team player, which was something of a sore spot between them. For all she knew, he was knee- deep in a new adventure right now, flying solo, which was apparently just the way he liked it.
    â€œSorry,” Cassandra said sheepishly, as though fearing she had inadvertently crossed a line. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
    â€œIt’s all right, Red,” Baird assured her. “Flynn is a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
    â€œOne would assume so,” Jenkins said, strolling into the office from an adjacent reading room. A dapper, silver-haired gentleman who was older, by centuries, than he appeared, he had been looking after the Annex for longer than Baird knew or wanted to think about. He placed a neglected copy of Cagliostro’s personal diary back on a bookshelf, precisely where it belonged. “Not that Librarians are always the most prudent of individuals. In my extremely extensive experience, their erudition is consistently beyond dispute, but their common sense? Well, that’s another matter.”
    A pair of frosted-glass doors swung open, admitting a breeze and Ezekiel Jones. The cocky young thief sauntered into the Annex bearing a pink cardboard box and an infectious grin. A wiry man in his early twenties, he had dark hair, mischievous eyes, and designer clothes that had probably been shoplifted from only the most fashionable outlets. His stylish wardrobe contrasted sharply with Stone’s more blue-collar attire, and put Baird’s own workaday clothes to shame as well. As a rule, she preferred to dress for practicality, as in a white button-down shirt and trousers.
    â€œMiss me?” An Australian accent betrayed his Down Under roots. An irrepressible smile lit up the room. “What am I saying? Of course you did. I’m Ezekiel Jones. Who wouldn’t miss my delightful company?”
    â€œEverybody you’ve ever ripped off?” Stone said sternly, like an older brother addressing a wayward younger sibling. “Where’d you get off to anyway? Monte Carlo? The Riviera? Fort Knox?”
    Baird eyed the box apprehensively. Please let that not be the Crown Jewels, or a priceless Picasso.
    â€œNah,” Ezekiel said. “Voodoo Doughnuts. Just up the road from here.”
    Cassandra’s large eyes widened even more than usual. “Doughnuts?”
    â€œPortland’s best.” Ezekiel placed the box down on the conference table and flipped its lid to reveal a mouthwatering selection of gourmet doughnuts. “Feast your eyes, and then just feast in general. The doughnuts are on