"Laymon, Richard - InTheDark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

_What could it be?_
At least the envelope apparently hadn't been lost by anyone, so she wouldn't need to worry about trying to catch its owner.
She tossed it back onto the seat, and returned to business. She tried to focus entirely on the patrons, getting to know them better, hoping to show them that she was friendly and always ready to help in any way possible.
The mysterious envelope didn't preoccupy her thoughts.
Instead, it lingered just off to the side where her mind seemed to glance at it from time to time, and wonder.
_An invitation? A greeting card of some kind? A love letter or poem from a secret admirer?_
_A complaint?_
_Maybe a bit of hate mail from someone I shushed._
Could be anything, she told herself. Don't worry about it. You'll find out as soon as everybody's cleared out.
"If you like that one," she told a pony-tailed girl, "we've got a lot more by the same author."
As the girl thanked her and headed for the door, Jane swept her eyes over the remaining people. Quite a bunch. Maybe six still lined up, a few on their way out, a dozen others scattered about the main reading room. No telling how many might be upstairs in the stacks. Nobody in sight seemed to be paying any special attention to her.
_Whoever left it will probably stay behind to see if I open it._
_Hope he's cute._
Don't hope for cute, she told herself. Just hope he's not a weirdo.
By the time Jane was done checking out books, only a handful of people still lingered in the reading room. She recognized most of them as regulars. They all seemed busy with their own projects. Don, her assistant, was making his way among the tables, gathering up books and periodicals that needed to be put away.
She checked her wristwatch.
Ten till nine.
She picked up the envelope again. Holding it at waist level so that the desk would hide it from the view of anyone who might be watching, she flipped it over.
As she'd thought, nothing on either side except the handwritten JANE.
The envelope looked clean and unrumpled.
Its flap was sealed.
From the envelope's thinness, she supposed that it contained nothing more than a sheet or two of folded paper.
She picked at a corner of the flap, tore it upward, thrust her forefinger into the small hole, and worked her finger along the seam, ripping upward.
As she tore at the flap, she lifted her gaze. Nobody appeared to be watching.
Looking down, she removed a folded sheet of paper from the envelope. Lined, three-hole paper of the sort that students use for filling their looseleaf binders. It was folded into thirds. She could see the raised, dark scribbles of the handwriting on the other side. And a darkness within. A darkness caused by an extra layer of paper. Paper the size of a bank check or a dollar bill.
_Somebody sent me money?_
Suddenly, she felt like an idiot.
This was not a message from a secret admirer. Nor was it a threat. This was nothing more than payment for a lost book or an overdue fine.
Jane felt silly. A little relieved. And a little disappointed.
She unfolded the paper.
Inside was not a bank check, but a stiff, unwrinkled fifty-dollar bill.
Must've been a mighty _expensive_ book, Jane thought.
She moved the bill aside and read the handwritten note:


Dear Jane
Come and play with me. For further instructions, look homeward, angel. You'll be glad you did.
Warmest Regards,
MOG
(Master of Games)


Jane read it again. And again. Then she looked around. The few people who remained in the reading room were paying no attention to her.
"We'll be closing in about five minutes," she announced.
She refolded the note around the fifty-dollar bill and tucked it back inside the envelope.
"Don, would you come here for a minute?"
The lanky graduate student hurried toward her. He looked worried. Or guilty? "Is there a problem, Miss Kerry?"
Jane shook her head. "I don't think so." She raised the envelope. "Did you happen to see anyone put this on my chair?"
He rolled his eyes upward as if an answer might be written on the ceiling. Then he shook his head. "No. I don't believe so."
"Anyone hanging around the circulation desk when I was away from it?"