Page 71 of Sweet Somethings

She didn't need the Internet to learn more about them; she could just talk to them. They came into her bakery several times a week. But she wasn't quite sure how to broach the question of whether or not one of them had written letters to a lover and then buried them under some floorboards.

She couldn't imagine Martha loving anyone. Cecelia was definitely softer and nicer. Maybe it had been her. Or perhaps it hadn't been either one of them, but it was the best lead she had.

And it was interesting that there hadn't been any men in their lives, or at least no marriages. Was that because one of them still pined for the man she'd lost?

Perhaps that was why Martha was so bitter. Or maybe it was why Cecelia seemed so lonely.

Setting them aside, she looked for the last owner before her parents—Connie Jacobson. There were several Connie Jacobsons on social media, but no one listing their hometown as Fairhope. She tried for marriage and obituary listings and finally found a Connie Jacobson who had died of cancer in 1985, which was two years before the house had sold to Juliette's parents.

Connie had been survived by three sons: Nathan, Philip and Adrian. There was no mention of a husband. It looked like the sons had sold the house to her parents.

It was possible Connie had been the letter writer. Maybe her husband had left her or died.

She tapped a few more keys, looking for any other info she could find on the sons. Nathan Jacobson, which implied Jacobson was Connie's married name, was a realtor in town. Finally, another lead.

She closed the computer. She had three people to talk to now—the Grayson sisters and Nathan—but they would all have to wait until tomorrow. Checking her watch, she got up, grabbed a coat and headed out to Mickelson's Bar.

* * *

What the hell had he been thinking? He never should have agreed to play tonight, Roman thought, as he looked around the crowded bar. So far, he hadn't seen any familiar faces, but that didn't mean some people from his past wouldn't show up. And those who came could very well be people who didn't like him at all. He was not only putting his rusty guitar skills on display, he was also putting himself in a position for some nasty heckling.

He didn't really care what anyone said to him, but he did like John, the owner of the bar, and the last thing he wanted to do was create any problems for him.

He stood off to the side, adjusting the tension on his strings, while a guy set up the amps. He'd met Bobby, the drummer, and David, the bass guitarist, and they both seemed like good guys. Hopefully, he could keep up with them.

As the door to the bar opened, he found himself looking for a certain pretty brunette with dazzling blue eyes, but Juliette had not shown up yet. He told himself she might not come. She had to be exhausted from all the work, but somehow he thought she would be there, and he was both excited and a little wary about her presence. He found himself wanting to impress her, and it had been a long time since he'd felt the need to do that for anyone.

But it wasn't Juliette who walked in; it was Donavan and her younger sister Becky. While Becky went to the bar, Donavan came over to him.

"Are you playing?" she asked, surprise in her eyes.

"The guitar gave it away, huh?"

"Yes. I can't quite believe it."

"Me, either. John Mickelson caught me in a weak moment."

"I remember when you used to sit on the pier and strum your guitar. I can't tell you how many girls showed up there accidentally on purpose to hear you play."

"I don't remember that," he said.

"You were in your own world when you had that guitar in your hands. Actually, I think you were in your own world a lot of the time. It's what made you so interesting. You were elusive."

"Elusive? I wasn't trying to be, but okay."

"Roman Prescott?"

He turned his head to see a woman with bright copper-colored hair walking toward him.

"Is that you?" she asked. "I'm Vanessa Henderson. Remember me?"

He didn't really, but she looked vaguely familiar. "Vanessa, sure. How are you?"

"In disbelief that you're actually here. I heard you were in town, but you haven't shown up anywhere before now."

"I've been working for my grandfather. How are you?"

"I'm single again," she said.

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