Page 78 of Sweet Somethings

Twelve

"You really should stay away from Roman Prescott," Martha told Juliette. "I know a young woman like yourself can get caught up in a man as handsome as that, but he's no good."

"Roman is a good person," Juliette defended. "You should get to know him. You should judge him by who he is today and not who he was as a teenager."

Martha looked taken aback by her remarks. "You weren't here when he was terrorizing the town and a leopard doesn't change his spots."

"But a man can grow up," she pointed out. "And if Roman had been guilty of anything, then it seems like he would have ended up in jail, which didn't happen."

"Just because he got away with something doesn't mean he's innocent. You know, his father was nothing like him. He was always at the top of his class. I don't know how he sired such a wild one."

"Roman's father was an A student?" That didn't sound like the guy who'd sold his belongings and dropped out of college.

"Oh, yes. Brett was smart and funny, too. Everyone liked him. He used to bag groceries at the market. He always helped me out to my car. I heard he left school and ran off to California. I guess once he got there, he forgot all about his good upbringing. It's a shame. I'm sure Vincent was disappointed. He always wanted a son to follow in his footsteps."

"Maybe Roman will do that," she suggested, knowing that was just wishful thinking on her part. Roman's heart was in the military. He wanted to go back, and she needed to remember that, not fantasize about him staying in Fairhope to build houses and be her boyfriend.

"I don't see that happening," Martha said. "Anyway, I should go home."

As Martha mentioned the word home, Juliette was reminded of her earlier research and her connection to the Graysons. "One second, I wanted to ask you something," she said. "I understand that you once lived in my old childhood home on Primrose Lane."

Martha's eyebrows arched in surprise. Then she slowly nodded. "That's right. I forgot you lived there as a child."

"Why did your family move out of the house?"

"My parents wanted to get a smaller place after Cecelia and I had left home, so they sold the house and moved into a condo. We did love growing up there, though."

"When you lived in the house, do you remember a secret hiding place under the floorboards in the downstairs bedroom closet?"

Martha's eyes widened. "What?"

"Roman found the secret hiding place during his demo work on the house and thought it was a little odd." She didn't want to mention the letters until she got a feel for what Martha knew.

"I never knew about any hiding place like that. My father used the room as a study, so I was rarely in there. Was there something hidden inside?"

"Roman said it was a box of letters," she said.

"Letters?" she said faintly. "From who?"

"There weren't any names mentioned."

"Oh, well, then it will be impossible to find the owner."

She was actually starting to think it might be very possible, and that she might be talking to the owner right now. Martha definitely knew more than she was saying.

"It would be a shame to just throw them away," she said.

"What else can you do?" Martha asked. "If the person who wrote the letters wanted to keep them, they wouldn't have left them behind."

"I suppose that's true."

"I have to go," Martha said abruptly.

"Of course. Good night."

As she watched Martha hurry down the street, she wondered about her odd response. Her attitude toward the letters had been off. Why? Were they hers?

Martha would be the last person she could imagine writing such beautiful, romantic love notes.

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