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"You'll get filthy," she whispered, her entire body quivering. "I am covered with that black pitch." |
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"Also known as tar," he said, his lips skimming her mouth. "This is the La Brea Tar Pits." |
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And then she was crushed against him. He was with her. Holding her. Not angry, but loving her. |
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She pulled away suddenly. "How did you know I was returning, Mike? I have never before been to the La Brea Tar Pits, so how were you here on my arrival?" |
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"Simple," he said, using her arm to keep her tight at his side as he led her along the path bordering the fence. "I read Lucy's last journal." |
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"I located experts in reconstructing damaged books. People honed their skills a few years back after" |
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"the fire in the downtown Los Angeles Library," Abby finished. "Lydia told me." |
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"Once I gathered from Hannah that you'd felt compelled to go back, I did some sleuthing. You'd left the damaged journal in your bedroom." |
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He nodded. "When I first picked it up, I read what I could, including about Arlen's bee sting. Hannah confirmed your sudden interest in carrying your own kit. When I came to the end and learned you stayed with your family, I nearly wound up having Hannah call the men with the nets to come and get me." |
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