Page 73 of The Meaning Of You

I looked up, surprised at the compliment, although I couldn’t say why. “I never said he was smart.”

Mads’ gaze narrowed on mine. “Oh, I think he knew exactly what he was doing.”

I stared back, stunned into silence.

Mads cleared his throat and took the notebook from my hands. “But I’m not sure about the client list theory. See there—” He pointed to a line on the third page. “If those numbers are years, then there are only a few letters between that year and the next. And yet the next year has a ton of letters. And this one—” He flipped the page and pointed to a line two up from the bottom. “—has none at all. It seems too inconsistent.”

“You’re right.” I angled my body to better face him. The shift also worked to separate our knees, which I immediately regretted. “But it has to be important to warrant all the secret-squirrel stuff.”

Mads sighed and shifted back in his seat. “I know. And I can’t believe it’s not connected to what’s happening.”

I stared at the cover. “You think this is what they’re after, don’t you?”

His expression remained impassive. “Don’t you? It’s the only lead we’ve found. The only thing that doesn’t belong in this crazy picture. I think for some reason this was in Davis’s possession that day and someone found out.”

I closed my eyes for a second and then opened them again. “The someone who killed Justin.”

Mads nodded. “It’s just an educated guess.”

“And a good one,” I agreed, mulling the possibilities over in my head. “Maybe Justin was forced to give up Davis’s name before he was killed?”

Mads steepled his fingers and considered that, his clever green eyes crinkling at the corners.

I wanted to reach out and smooth the lines of concentration, to feel the heat of his skin under my touch, but I didn’t.

“It makes sense,” he finally agreed. “But I don’t think they necessarily knew the notebook was in Davis’s car that day, only that he had it. Or they knew it but hadn’t intended for him to run himself off the road, because that accident lost them the notebook and put them in a bit of a pickle, didn’t it?”

I gave a frustrated groan and dropped my head to stare at the wooden floors, thinking, thinking, thinking. “Okay, what if they didn’t know he had the notebook at all? At least not before the accident. What if Davis simply saw something or someone he shouldn’t have at Justin’s house that day and they couldn’t let him get away?”

“Like whoever killed Justin?” Mads offered.

I looked up, nodding. “Maybe they didn’t know he had the notebook until it was too late.”

Mads’ expression brightened. “Better. That’s better. Keep going.”

I turned sideways to face him again. “Okay, so Davis has the accident and too late these people discover he had the notebook with him. Now they’re stymied. He’s unconscious so they break into the townhouse to see if they can find it, but no luck.” A nauseating thought occurred to me. “Do you think they went to the hospital as well?”

Mads’ soft eyes told me exactly what he was thinking.

I swallowed hard and unfisted my hands. “Yeah, of course they fucking did. Bastards. So now they have to wait and hope he wakes up so that they can force him to tell them. But he doesn’t, and they’re stuck again.”

“Why didn’t they come to you for answers?”

I shrugged. “Maybe something Justin said? Maybe they knew I couldn’t help them. Anyway, when Davis dies, they see another opportunity, thinking I might have found it goingthrough his stuff, either in the house or at the caravan...” I trailed off, frowning. “This is all pretty out there, you do realise that? Whatever that notebook holds, it must be pretty damn important to whoever is looking for it.”

Mads sighed. “And yet I can’t believe that two break-ins and a mugging at the caravan are unrelated.”

My eyes widened. “You realise how messed up this is? Because if what we’re thinking is right, then someone has been keeping an eye on Davis... andme,all this time. For almost two years.” My gaze locked onto his. “What the fuck is going on, Mads?”

He reached for my hand and I didn’t pull away, emotional exhaustion and lack of sleep finally taking their toll. “Debating the why of it all matters a lot less than breaking that code,” he said. “Then we might get some answers. One thing I do know, codes like this require a key to unlock them. A simple code might have an easy enough key to remember, but they are also easy to crack. Complicated codes are much safer and much harder to remember?—”

“But Justin would never choose a simple code,” I finished.

Mads nodded. “That’s what I think too. Which means he’d want the key accessible but also obscured.” Mads picked up the copy ofThe Three Musketeers. “Like hiding in plain sight.”

I blinked and snatched the copy from his hands. “You mean this isn’t just for hiding the notebook?” I fanned through the pages, but other than the cut-out, it was just a book. “There’s nothing here.”

A sly grin spread over Mads’ face. “Are you sure about that?”

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