Page 14 of Booked for Theft (Vigilante Magical Librarians #3)

FOURTEEN

Their vote for President of the United States remained blank.

A black kitten and a white kitten romped around on the kitchen floor while Ajani kept a close and careful watch over them. After taking the time to pet my fluffy goddess, I introduced myself to the new fluffs living in our home. Unlike Ajani, neither seemed interested in ending my existence, although they were more interested in Bradley.

I could make a guess as to why: he’d established himself as the provider of sustenance.

I scooped Ajani up, snuggled with her, and let my fiancé continue his efforts to claim both kittens as his. “I’m going to start working on sorting through our new books in the dining room while you tend to the beasts. Upon close examination, it appears you picked two kittens for yourself and Ajani, leaving me as a distant third.”

He grinned at me. “Ajani picked them. I just went along with her demands. Plus, she hissed at me when I tried to get one out of the carrier. At that point, I zipped the carrier closed and told them we should sort the paperwork so nobody got mauled. It’ll work out. At the very least, the shelter is happy because they have two fewer kittens to worry about. I’m sure Ajani still loves you.”

“I will be inconsolable if I lose my cat to your kittens.”

Once in the dining room, I sat near the box of random papers, settled Ajani on my lap, and began the tedious process of sorting everything by subject. Advertisements went into one pile while anything political went into another, charity contribution requests went into yet another. Catalogues and magazines formed another pile, and anything religious were placed together. Every now and then a piece of personal mail or a bill showed up, and I put them off to the side to review later.

Either content that Bradley would care for the kittens or she’d had a long day, my fluffy goddess settled in for a nap.

My collection of voter guides grew, and I discovered the owner had, once upon a time, mailed their ballots in. They hadn’t sent them, although they’d filled out the little bubbles with dark ink. Water stains marred the one from 2105, and unlike the others, it hadn’t been completely filled out.

Their vote for President of the United States remained blank.

I placed the ballot at the top of the pile, leaned back in my seat, and questioned everything I had thought I had known about American history and its downfall. If I judged from the ballot and the evidence of probable tears, the person had understood what happened to our country and grieved.

The writing had been on the wall, and some had seen it, and even then, they’d been powerless to stop it.

Why bother voting when the votes didn’t matter?

Every election season, I asked that question, never finding the answer.

What had happened four hundred years ago? What had driven the ballot’s owners to tears? After shuffling through the paperwork, I located the voter guide for 2105 and began reading from the beginning. The language caught my attention, as little had changed between our version of English and what had been printed. How had a formal form of English persisted for so long without evolution?

I had a collection of fiction books from hundreds of years informing me that slang was a real thing that happened, but at its core, English had remained frozen in time. That would be my next project, to determine when, in MR and AD, English had ceased evolving. How and why would be the next questions I answered.

But if freezing the population into the same status was the goal, halting language evolution would become a necessity, as would controlling what bits of knowledge made it to the general populace, waiting for time to do its job. Eventually, those who remembered the past would perish, leaving the leadership of corrupt countries to rewrite history.

Fortunately for me, the voter guide included a summary of every politician and issue up for vote along with a list of pros and cons as presented from the opposer’s side. Within five minutes, I understood the reason for the voter’s tears.

The government wished to purge anyone from the United States who did not have heritage rights to be there. According to the guide, heritage rights included both parents having been born on United States soil, with their parents also having been born on United States soil.

Children born abroad to American citizens would be stripped of their citizenship, as would children born to only one parent of United States origin. Any living person without four grandparents born within the United States would lose their citizenship and face deportation.

The deadline for the purge, March 14, 2106, told me numerous bitter truths.

The purge had been swept under the rug, lost to time as an AD record, while the new calendar went on without mention of how millions upon millions upon millions of people would lose their citizenship. The dissenters of the bill got it right; only the wealthy, who could buy citizenship through an investment program, also up for vote at the same time as the purge bill, would win.

According to the notes, if the majority of states voted in favor of the purge, the United States government would uphold the decision and reform their citizenship system.

I could only assume the bill had passed.

I knew very few immigrants, and the ones I did know were in specialty fields, primarily composed of doctors, attorneys, engineers, and architects.

The reality of the situation made me want to cry, much like the ballot’s owner had wept so many years ago.

Had the American people screamed before losing their rights and privileges? Had those who had suffered through being purged protested? Had they waged a civil war, only to be crushed and erased from history altogether?

The history I had grown up with made no mention of a bill designed to eliminate foreigners from the country let alone revoking the citizenship of Americans and deporting them.

But if the bill had passed, history would have been written by the hand of the victor, and hiding their sins under the rug made sense. All it took for the past to be forgotten was some time.

The government had succeeded, and only luck and knowing when to start looking had revealed secrets those in power wanted to remain hidden. I realized that, if I could pull it off, I could steal something: the government’s ability to govern. The theft would take place in front of everyone, and I would transform myself from an exsanguinator into a magician.

I held the first key in my hand. Knowledge of the past might unite everyone for the common cause, much like the country had united during the American Revolution. Division would happen; it was the nature of humans to conflict with one another and the world around them. Could the truth of why the calendar had split, all so the government and its corrupt politicians could divide the nation sufficiently to form a dictatorship, change our future?

When I viewed the country through the lens of a dictator, one who wanted only the loyal to remain in his country, everything made sense.

The purge would have left many loyalists behind, and there would have been an exodus of Americans who wished to remain with their families and loved ones. Had they fled to Europe? Canada? Mexico? That I couldn’t tell from the sea of paperwork in front of me. What had happened to the millions of Americans stripped of their home and citizenship?

I feared the answers were where I couldn’t access them, overseas where the population likely had a healthier concept of the past. Or did they?

Had the United States, in its effort to crush its own people, changed the entire planet? I considered the situation and the steps we needed to take to get our friends and family abroad for a trip.

At ten thousand a person, only the rich could afford to go—and would the rich really spend any of their time looking into the history of their government’s treachery? Or would they be enjoying the sights and doing as tourists did?

Most Americans didn’t need to travel abroad in order to take a vacation. The United States of America had plenty of land to trick people into thinking they escaped to somewhere new and interesting. Those in New York could visit Los Angeles. Those living in the vast spaces between the coasts could—and did—visit the ocean.

Add in a cultural preference for avoiding travel, and the government could keep everyone close to home. With a growing sense of horror, I realized most likely had no idea they needed to pay the equivalent of bond to escape.

That Bradley could afford the bill made me wonder just how much he’d worked while I’d been missing.

Sighing, I leaned in the direction of the kitchen and hollered, “Hey, Bradley?”

He strolled in, and the kittens chased after him, attacking his feet. “What is it?”

“I’m feeling brave enough to ask for more information on our practical financial situation. How badly in debt are we after paying for that cruise and everyone’s travel fees? You also bought the music and the books.”

“We aren’t in debt.”

I scowled. “How is that even possible, Mr. Hampton? I was gone nine months, not nine years!”

“Shortly after you disappeared, I invested three million dollars into a risky stock. I bought in at approximately ten cents a share.”

“You spent three million dollars on shares that cost ten cents each? How is that even possible?”

Bradley picked the chair closest to me and sat down. “The company is old, they did a lot of splits when they first had their financial woes, and it was a coin toss if they would go bankrupt. I decided to gamble. A month before you showed up, the stock surged, and I sold close to peak. Since the time between purchase and sale was longer than six months, I was able to sell as long-term stocks. The company is doing decently now, but it has settled to a sensible cost per stock, and it looks like they’ll continue to survive, which is good. It’s a computer system manufacturer. Apparently, they won a big government contract six months after I bought.”

“And you have no political aspirations, so there was no risk of inside trading,” I murmured.

“Correct. Anyway, when I bought my thirty billion shares in the company, the company had a hundred billion shares. I invested a hundred thousand on behalf of your parents, and at my encouragement, my parents invested half a million. We all sold at the peak, and that’s that.”

“All right. I’m ready. How much did they sell for per share?”

“Sixty-two dollars. The stock settled at forty a share.”

I sucked in a breath, and my eyes widened. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“I lost twenty-five percent to taxes.”

Grabbing my purse, I got out my phone and made use of the calculator. “And you said you weren’t anywhere near as wealthy as the political junkies?”

“Well, I’m not! Most of those assholes are trillionaires.”

“Are you telling me that you’re a literal billionaire?”

“And as soon as we are married, you will also be one, yes. I had no problem buying the books and music because I’d rather that money exist in a tangible fashion. It makes me feel a little better about the situation. I also donated a bunch to various charities. Honestly, and I probably should have told you this earlier, the reason the shelter let me just pick kittens is because I pay for their operations. I know how important Ajani is for you, so I just wiped out the shelter’s debt, bought their building, and handle all their basic costs to exist. All they worry about is rescuing animals and finding good homes for them. I will also be donating the salaries of the workers there. It’s a non-profit, so it’s tax deductible. I just marked the entire building off my taxes as a charitable donation. That was a lot of paperwork. Ren didn’t like me for a solid week over that, because I had to write the leasing documentation to pull that off. They have an eternal free lease on the place for as long as they’re using it to rescue animals and find homes for the furred, feathered, and scaled residents. The downside? The government checks to make certain they’re doing their rescue work.”

I spluttered. “You made it seem like the money would be a problem.”

“Janette, think about it. You and the others are all librarians. You work hard for the money, and you’re proud of getting by without handouts. I wasn’t entirely honest with our parents over how much I invested. I removed more than a few zeros from the amount I told them I invested. Everyone else thinks they got the lion’s share of the stock purchase. And my parents? Dad’s busy with the security company. Mom’s locked on to the government. All I did was buy and sell from their stock account on their behalf. Mom keeps offering to buy our new sports car because she thinks I wiped out most of my money. In reality? That’s not the case. But I am doing something that you might become upset with me over.”

While it took me a moment or two to process his statement, I accepted his reasoning for hesitating. “I’m ready. I will only get upset if there is a really good reason for it.”

“There’s a castle in France up for sale, and I’m in process of buying it.”

I stared at him with wide eyes. “An entire castle?”

“It’ll make an excellent cover for the trip. We’ll ride around Europe, visit our castle, and enjoy ourselves. Your love of history will be why I, a sentimental gentleman, might buy my fiancé a castle in France. And there will be a library, Future Mrs. Hampton. It will be a glorious library filled with beautiful books from all eras. But if things don’t work out in our favor, we’ll be all right. The purchase will give us an opening for French citizenship through their investment program. We’ll have to allow people to tour our castle one week out of every year to qualify.” Bradley’s expression turned rather sly. “And it’s one of the few methods we can get dual citizenship. On the surface, the United States government will feel it is honorary. In reality, we will be allowed to live and work in France—and many other places in Europe. That won’t help anyone else, but it’s a start of a plan if this doesn’t work out.”

I could understand why Bradley would feel I might become upset with him. “Let me see if I understand this. You, quite possibly in a moment of depression, flung a huge portion of your wealth at a gamble stock.”

Bradley winced. “That’s accurate.”

“Have you discussed the reckless spending with your therapist?”

He shook his head.

Ah. I sighed, as I had things I wasn’t quite ready to discuss with anyone yet, too. “Bradley, it’s okay. You were upset and depressed. The gamble paid off. Are you feeling guilty because you did something reckless and possibly stupid?”

“I am. I mean, I did think it was a gamble worth trying. I wouldn’t have risked your parents’ money otherwise. But I put down an unreasonable amount of money into the stock when I knew I shouldn’t.”

“You turned three million into billions, Bradley.”

He grimaced. “It makes me sick thinking about it, honestly. It’s too much money. I was hoping to double the investment.”

“You did a little more than double it. All right. So, you have the equivalent of survivor’s guilt. You did something dangerous with your money, which you had earned on your own. You’re upset because you feel you should have been punished rather than rewarded.” I engaged him in a staring contest. “And for some reason I can’t understand, you think I’m going to be upset over you buying us an entire castle in France.”

“That’s right.”

I petted Ajani before grabbing my phone, opening a dictionary app, and typing in ‘happy’ in the search box. Once I submitted and had the definition on the screen, I pointed the device at him. “My picture should be listed here. There’s something you can do that will make me even happier.”

“What?”

“Buy us an ancient villa in Italy, a Roman styled one—and if there isn’t one and there is land available, I have the blueprints for one. I’m sure you can find someone in Italy who would love to help you spend millions of dollars on such a project. And I bet you could wrangle honorary Italian citizenship for both of us and our colony of kitties.” I set my phone down on the table, picked up the voter guide, and passed it to him. “This was probably the last vote of the former United States, and it explains how so much we have now came to pass.”

Bradley took his time reading over it, and if I judged from his expression, he walked a wire while battling his emotions. “I wonder if Albert knows what he had.”

“Probably not. So many of these papers are felonies, but they were missed because it was just in a pile of papers from an estate auction. Will we be able to hide everything in the wall?”

“With some work, yes. I have the wire guides to slide stuff up along the drywall already in place, and I can stack in two inches of things for two feet. It’ll be rough to get it out later, but I should be able to stash all the voter material back there. If we’re going to distribute this to the media, then we should use the camera on the disposable laptop, clean a bunch of memory sticks, and then make use of anonymous mail drops. We’ll have to wear gloves the entire time, make sure no fingerprints are on anything, and otherwise hide our tracks.”

I nodded. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“Good is relative. Do I think it’s necessary? Right now, yes, I do. Do I want us to be in such a position we need to do this? No. But we are. Is this dangerous? Definitely. But I think it’s worth the risk. And if things don’t work out, we at least tried—and I will cling to the hope we all get out of this alive until there isn’t any chance of survival at all.” Bradley sighed. “I’m worried that the attention you’ve been getting from the White House has been due to the stock success. It was one thing when I only had a few million dollars to work with and a future inheritance. Now I’m a serious contender in the wealth department. This condo and the maintenance fees probably went a long way towards convincing the government I was, well, depressed and just gambling with money.”

“How much did you lose on your stock gambles while I was gone?”

Bradley’s shoulder’s slumped. “Ten thousand dollars. That’s it. I lost one gamble, and I only gambled on that stock because it was late at night, I was bored, and it was in the same category as the stock I hit big on. Everything else worked out well.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And how much money did you gamble with?”

“Ten million. I reserved two million.”

“And your only loss was ten thousand dollars?”

He nodded, flopped onto the table, and regarded me with his saddest expression. “Ren called me Midas for an entire month, and now he’s mad because he has to manage a bunch of high dividend stocks with good success rates. His calendar is madness because of me. He has to check them whenever they hit six months to see if we need to pull out and reinvest elsewhere.”

I frowned. “What are high dividend stocks?”

“Dividends are the amount of profits that a company shares with its stockholders. Let’s say that a dividend’s percentage is one percent. That means the company will share one percent of its profits with its stockholders. How many shares you have determines how much of that percent of profit you’ll get. So, when I held those stocks I purchased, I was paid approximately thirty percent of the twenty percent of the company’s profits. It was a rather large paycheck. I reinvested about half of it, and I’ve been feeding the other half into your accounts when you aren’t looking.”

“The thirty thousand came from that company’s profit?”

He nodded. “I also paid for the books out of the dividends. I’m going to be evaluating how to distribute funds to various charities to help as many people as possible. Still, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t be sorry. We all agree the nine months we lost was miserable, you suffered from depression, and you had self-destructive tendencies. Except your attempts at self-destruction backfired, now you’re feeling guilty over it. I’m sure we can work on a therapy plan for this now that I know it’s a problem. We can start with buying a reasonable fun car—the kind that has a high price tag, great reliability, and longevity. It need not win at the races, but it needs space sufficient to take our babies with us. All three of our babies. I think it should be European make, and we’ll pick it out while we’re on our cruise.”

“That could work. All right. You’re not mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, but we’re going to live to my budgeting standards rather than yours. We will have household rules on how much we can spend moving forward. I’m not saying you can’t spend millions on your precious sheet music, but we will discuss the expenditures first. I am fine with contributing to charities and helping people. I am not okay with living from paycheck to paycheck and worried about if I can afford my next meal. Do I want to know if the Stephen King novel is in the boxes?”

“It’s in the boxes, and I negotiated a fair price with Albert. He received what the book is actually worth, much to his horror. I also offered to help with his investments. He gave me a book in exchange for that work. The book is honestly for you, and it might be even cooler than the Stephen King novel.”

“Bite your tongue! What could possibly be cooler?”

“A first edition autographed copy of Tom Clancy’s The Hunt for Red October .”

I gasped. “He did not have a Tom Clancy.”

“He had a Tom Clancy.”

“There has been a Tom Clancy just gathering dust right under my nose for all this time?” If Ajani hadn’t been on my lap, I would have run to the bedroom, flung myself onto the bed, and wailed. “That’s a priceless treasure!”

“And now it is our priceless treasure.”

“My office must be transformed into a throne room for my precious acquisitions. I’ve read that book numerous times. I like it almost as much as The Stand !”

“I know. That’s why I accepted it. I didn’t want to have to tell you it existed and we didn’t own it. But I have to work miracles with Albert’s money now. He refused to accept actual money for the book. It’s authenticated, too. But honestly, they’re insurance policies for us. Those two books will fit in your purse, and they will sell for millions more than what we paid here over in Europe if push comes to shove. And the government doesn’t view books as money . I’m going to acquire more books that we can take to Europe with us in case we need funds and our accounts here are frozen.”

I admired Bradley’s cunning. “You’re preparing if we have to leave.”

“I am, and I’m using you to do it.”

I cuddled Ajani, picked her up, assured I loved her best, and set her on the floor. “We should take this discussion to the bedroom. Intellect is sexy.”

“I will agree to this should you agree to struggle strictly for my enjoyment.”

“I think I can manage that little.”