Page 10 of In the Pursuit of Haven
He held his hand out for it. “Cow… I’m hoping.” I quickly gave it up at the thought of it being something worse while he inspected the circle and strange notch down the sides. “So weird.”
Really weird.
We had never figured that one out. Later I’d decided that it resembled an Aztecan weapon—a macana—but to find it in Massachusetts? We’d dubbed it Dimond’s rattle since whatever was inside sounded very musical when we shook it around, and we kept it on our mantle until the strange thing disappeared. Jessie might be to blame for that, and… I couldn’t think about that right now.
I picked up the leather Bible we’d found melded with paint onto The Lady’s hands… well, stumps for hands. All her fingers were broken off. “This Bible was with her, but…”
Mariah picked it up, her brow wrinkling when she tried to fit the Bible against The Lady’s broken fingers. It didn’t fit right.
I laughed. “I know… I think it was a mistake too. Someone must’ve taken what she was holding originally and threw in a replacement. That’s my guess, anyway.”
Mariah’s lips curled. “It’s a good one. It’s still an antique—you think it’s from the same era?”
I stared at the water-stained leather. We’d put it through a paint stripping process to reveal the wording etched across the front cover: “For with thee is the fountain of life: in thy light shall we see light.”
“It might be even older,” I admitted.
And I had to let The Lady go. I hoped they’d at least let me visit her. I’d worked a lot of summers at the Salem location after I’d decided to become an archivist; they should trust me by now. Goodness, if they didn’t, I’d even take supervised visits, and that thought hit a little too close to home at the moment.
Jessie’s eyes flashed through my mind… and then our dog’s.
I gulped. Wow, I missed Finn! And Jessie? Well, there was a hole where my heart used to be.
Squaring my shoulders, I wished Mariah the best of luck, and silently to myself while I was at it. I had to let go of a lot of things this week.
I threw my blue trench coat on over my harvest gold dress patterned in splashes of matching blue, tightening the sash. It was cold in Salem during January, and though it had been a mild winter so far, it was still not what I’d call pleasant. So why had I dressed up like I might run intosomeonein the streets? I couldn’t answer truthfully.
Even if my path crossed with Jessie’s, it wouldn’t be good.
I hauled the strap of my duffle bag over my shoulder and headed through the marbled hallways. The museum was artwork in itself. My blue heels tapped out a steady rhythm past the nautical exhibits and down the staircase. Magnificent replicas of ship’s figureheads lined the walls next to the windows.
“Roxy!” The museum director tried to catch me. He raised his hand to keep me in place, not able to run in those European shoes of his.
I turned with a smile. I’d worked for Luther Leon when I first started out. He was a descendant of one of Salem’s oldest families—his mother was a Crowninshield, so that made him quite prestigious in these parts. His father’s side, on the other hand, had been on a losing streak ever since investing heavily in the resort business at Misery Island.
They should’ve known there’d be trouble when the Crabbs took an interest in the business too. The island paradise went down in the fires of 1926, and they lost everything.
Everyone learned sooner or later to keep away from that family.
Luther was far removed from such worldly concerns, however, since his nose was more often buried in a book. He’d go on for hours about some exhibit or new discoveries archaeologists had unearthed about early civilizations.
My aunt used to meet him for lunch, and I’d often wondered if he had a sweet spot for her. Maybe he’d been too shy or perhaps too intellectually focused to process his repressed feelings, but basically, getting my first internship with him had been nepotism at its finest.
“Your husband is trying to reach you,” he said.
I took a deep breath. “Is he?” Obviously, I wasn’t ready to confide in anyone yet, least of all an old boss.
“Yes,” Luther said. “He thinks your phone died?”
I’d blocked his number. I couldn’t talk to him right now. I was afraid of what he’d say.
“He said to meet him at the dock, Roxy.”
Yeah, not happening. Glancing up, I noticed the vaulted glass ceiling showed a blue sky. It was bone-chilling temperatures out there, but what snow we’d had wasn’t sticking. Strangely, this unnatural weather was perfect for walking. A good thing, since Haven’s boat was docked further away from town, past Bette Ann’s candy shop, near Hawthorne’s historical site. I’d told my aunt’s friends to moor it there on purpose, far from where Jessie would be.
Haven had never gotten along with him… and the next few weeks would be painful enough surrounded by all these memories.
“Where were you? Who’s Abby?” Aunt Haven stopped me from pushing through the front door of the keeper’s cottage. I’d hoped I’d be able to change first; maybe take a shower! My Lady Liberty dress was even more ragged than how it started out. I was covered in dirt.
