Chapter 2: The Thursday Return

"Whoever left that ticket came back for it," Mara told her friend June.

June looked over the counter at the storage claim ticket. "How do you know?"

"The door was unlocked after everyone left. And the bottom drawer in the reading room was open."

"Did they take anything?"

"Not that I can find."

Mara had checked the chess books twice, along with her grandfather's handwritten inventory. She had not called the number on the ticket. It belonged to a storage facility, according to its printed face, but her name was nowhere on it. She had photographed both sides and left the original in the shop safe.

On Friday morning she had also spoken separately to both employees. Neither had returned after closing. The alarm company could confirm that the code was used, but could not say who entered it. Mara had asked them to disable the old code immediately and add a notification to her phone for every entry. By Saturday, she had moved the cash box out of the back office. It felt excessive until she remembered the open drawer.

June, who managed the bakery next door, folded her arms. "You should call the police."

"And say someone opened a drawer? I'll call if they come back. I've changed the door code."

She left out the part about the sedan. She had seen its driver only as a shape behind wet glass.

At six forty eight the following Thursday, Luca Moretti walked into Second Story with Tomas and another man. He looked directly at Mara, then at the chess table.

"You came early," she said.

"I wanted time for two games."

"Optimistic."

She led him to the table. The handwritten sign June had taped above it read THURSDAY REMATCH. Mara hadn't put it there, but she hadn't removed it either.

Luca sat. "I thought you said this started at seven."

"You can wait eleven minutes if it bothers you."

They played. This time he refused her first tempting sacrifice. When she offered a pawn on the queenside, he left it alone as well.

"You studied," she said.

"I remember my mistakes."

"That sounds exhausting."

He glanced up, almost smiling. Behind him, Tomas was browsing a shelf of local history with the concentration of someone who had never willingly entered a bookstore.

Halfway through the game, a customer asked Mara about a title. She stepped away to find it. On her return, she saw Luca standing beside the table, studying the carved knight on its edge.

"My grandfather made that," she said.

"He was a chess player?"

"A relentless one. Why?"

"The carving caught my eye."

Mara resumed her seat. She moved her bishop, forcing him to choose between his rook and a pawn close to promotion. Luca chose correctly. She had to work for the draw.

Walter applauded anyway. Luca looked irritated by the attention, which made Mara like the draw more.

While Tomas paid for a history book he plainly did not want, Mara put the pieces away. Luca remained at the table.

"Have you ever had someone leave something here by mistake?" he asked.

She felt the ticket against the inside of her pocket. "All the time. Scarves. Glasses. Once, half a birthday cake."

"A document case?"

Now she looked at him. "You're asking about a particular person."

"A colleague. Evan Ward."

The name meant nothing to her, but she remembered a nervous man who had bought a cheap paperback three Thursdays earlier. He'd spent most of the evening watching the front door. She had found the ticket under the chess table after Luca's first visit, not that man's.

She recalled one more detail. He'd asked whether the shop ever repaired old chess manuals. Mara had pointed him toward the strategy shelf, then been pulled away by a delivery. When she looked back, he was buying a paperback mystery with cash. She could picture the cover, but not whether he'd carried anything else out.

"What does he look like?" she asked.

Luca described Evan. The paperback customer fit.

"He was here," she said. "Weeks ago. He didn't meet anybody that I saw. Why are you looking for him?"

"He hasn't been at work."

"That's an answer to a different question."

Tomas stopped pretending to read. Luca noticed. His face closed.

"If he contacts you, tell me," Luca said, placing a card on the table.

Mara left it where it was. "If he contacts me, I'll ask what he wants."

"He may be in trouble."

"Then give me a reason to trust you with him."

For a moment, Luca seemed ready to speak. His phone vibrated. He read the screen, rose, and buttoned his coat.

"Good game," he said.

"It was a draw."

"I remember."

After he left, Mara put his card in the safe beside the ticket. She opened her grandfather's inventory again. Near the end was a list of donated chess books, dated four years earlier. One entry carried a handwritten correction in a different ink:

The Black Knight's Defense — retain.

Mara crossed to the strategy shelf. The book was gone.

She checked the returns cart, then the sale records. It had not been sold.

Her new door code protected the front entrance. Somebody with access to the shop had taken her grandfather's book, and Luca Moretti had come back asking about the man who might know why.

Mara went upstairs to her grandfather's former office. A narrow window overlooked the reading room. From there he had once watched her learn to play, offering advice she never asked for. She opened the old catalog cabinet and pulled the card for the missing title. Her grandfather had penciled two words on its back:

Keep copies.

She examined the cabinet until she found the corresponding carbon ledger. The page for the chess manual was missing. Mara closed the cabinet carefully. She now had two missing items, one stranger looking for Evan, and a claim ticket somebody had risked breaking into her store to recover. She decided she would tell no one about the ticket until she knew which of those facts belonged together.