Page 47 of Pepper, the Biker & the Vanishing Body

“A movie or reading?” Amy asked after a quick greeting.

“Reading in front of a fire.”

We both laughed and I knew she was recalling the rainy days we would have either a movie or reading marathon of either mysteries or romance movies or books.

“And you?” I asked.

“WatchingThe Count of Monte Christo,” she said with a sigh. “Not only mysterious but romantic as well.”

“And James Caviezel is easy on the eyes,” I said, and was surprised by her response.

“Not as much as Beau.”

“Sounds like someone is falling in love,” I teased, and her response surprised me again.

“It’s a strong possibility. But that’s not why I called.”

That was a signal she didn’t want to talk about Beau and love, and I respected that. Like always, she would tell me when she was ready, and I had no problem waiting.

“The movie got me thinking,” she said. “What if Ignatius Willow was falsely accused of something and had no choice but to flee Ireland and come to America?”

“Or maybe he wasn’t falsely accused and had no choice but to flee his homeland,” I countered.

“I need to do some deep diving into the Willows,” Amy said, sounding eager to do so. “Maybe he’s a disgraced noble. Oh! Oh! Maybe he stole that diamond and pearl necklace from his family.”

“Or he stole it from a noble,” I suggested.

“A commoner who fell in love with a noble and they ran away together. A romance novel come true.”

I heard her sigh.

“I need to investigate Claire, Ignatius’s wife. We haven’t even considered that she might have something to do with this mystery. Oh, this is so exciting. I will let you know what I find.”

“While watching the movie?” I asked with a laugh.

Amy laughed as well. “I’m very good at multitasking.”

She was at that, and she was great at digging deep and finding out about people.

I took the last bite of my sandwich, having eaten while I talked with Amy and hearing she had been doing the same. I made another cup of tea and settled in, to glance through some of my aunt’s journals.

My aunt had the most interesting life and her writing reflected it, detailing her travels and the people she met, some famous and others common, everyday people she made sound even more interesting than the famous ones.

I am excited to leave for Ireland soon and research the Willow family. I am even more excited about Max joining me, not for the whole trip, of course, but a nice portion of it. I have a feeling the trip will be most memorable.

I quickly grabbed the next journal having filed them according to dates the best I could and was surprised to see a sizeable gap in the dates. Had I misfiled them? I hurried off the couch and into the library where I kept them in an enclosed bookcase. A quick perusal and a repeat of it made me think that a journal was missing. I had kept my aunt’s belongings in the attic, and I had been vigilant about going through all of them when I had to clear the attic before the construction work got started. I hadn’t gotten rid of any papers that I came across and her old luggage now served as either décor or storage in various rooms. Amy got my aunt’s collection of gloves and a few of her hats and some of her pins which Amy did justice to.

So where could this missing journal be and why would it be missing? Was there something in it my aunt didn’t want discovered? Had she got rid of it? I decided to look through the journal that I thought followed the one I just read and see if there was any clue as to where it might be.

I glanced through the journal to see if anything jumped out at me, and it did. The journal’s last page read,Mydear Pep, look past what you see to unlock the truth. And under those words was an exact drawing of the key she gave my mom to give to me.

Mo jumped up startling me and raced to the French doors growling.

“Someone out there, Mo?” I asked, jumping up myself and he barked, a sure sign he had detected someone.

I laid the journal aside and went to the French doors, jumping back and Mo barking furiously when a rain-drenched man planted himself against the French doors. He wasn’t just any man. It was the vanishing guy.

CHAPTER 13

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