Page 113 of In the Pursuit of Haven
Even if we failed, the trip wasn’t wasted. Maybe in this search, we might find another treasure—a reminder of our love? I was sure the romantic reverend would approve.
“So who was Smalls leasing from?” Jessie shouted over the waves as we worked.
My hands paused on my rock-turner branch to get enough breath to answer. “We have three hopefuls.” I wiped at my wet forehead—that was from the ocean sprayandmy sweat. “I looked into their backgrounds during our all-nighter,” I said.
“I’m sure you did.” I didn’t miss the affection that washed over his expression as he studied me.
I never got tired of that, though I fixed my hair self-consciously in the wind… speaking of vain endeavors.
“But honestly… the only owner who caught my attention had the place in 1818,” I said, “… way before Smalls, of course. The captain was on the record for leasing Tinker’s out… for ships to use for ballast. Anyway, he was married to Margaret Crowninshield.”
Jessie sat on the rock, his sweaty palms streaking mud over the edges. “Oh, I see where you’re going with this.”
“Yeah, she was Clifford Crowninshield’s sister… great-great-grandson to…”
“John Clifford, the tavern keeper at Winter Island,” he finished for me. “Yeah, it’s a good lead.” He wiped at his forehead and stood. “That’s it… we need to find the Shepherds related to the Crowninshield family.”
I snickered. Was he teasing me? “Ruth and Jude,” I said. “Without question!”
Jessie laughed. “Ha, the pink-haired harpy, huh?”
“And the masked guardian of the ‘Witch House!’” I added, very uncharitably, but I was still burning over his condescending digs he’d got in about the basement.
“Okay, okay, we’ll look into them more.” Jessie yanked on his shirt to signal that we were done here.
We’d gotten closer to Smalls by reenacting his insane policy of moving rocks, and all we did was prove to ourselves that he was a madman for doing it.
“If Ruth or Jude is a Shepherd,” Jessie said, “one of them can tell us where to find their family’s Relics. No more of this trying to figure out who owned what island and why—you’re making me feel like a rat stuck in the walls at Harvard.”
That made me giggle, a little uneasily. I totally got it, but… the Shepherds were supposed to be dangerous, and if they were Ruth or her father like I suspected? Jude wasn’t the kind to surrender anything. “How do we get them to trust us?” I asked.
Lightning split through the sky overheard. “Leave that to me,” Jessie said, “but we should start heading back. My back’s ready to break in half.”
Thunder exploded through the air the very next instant.
Not again.The sweet nostalgia of reliving our first night together ended at the thought of experiencing another death-defying storm.
Jessie’s phone rang. That had to be Abby again. His dirt-caked fingers grappled with the screen. “Hey, Abby!” Jessie put her on speaker again. “We’re on our way home. How’s the dog?”
“No, no! Don’t go home!” Abby said quickly.
“What?”
“Hunter’s crew came here to the lighthouse, Jessie, and they upended all your boxes and tore apart Haven’s room.”
“What’s the closet look like?” I asked.
“Horrible… Haven’s papers are everywhere!”So they didn’t find the secret room!Jessie and I exchanged relieved glances. “I have Stu and Finn and I’m getting out,” Abby said. “Don’t come back here tonight.”
“What about Dad’s place?” Jessie asked.
“No, just, no. They were watching it when I left. Wherever you are, just stay there.”
We looked helplessly around us. There were cottages, but they were locked up for the winter. If anyone could find a way to get inside them, it was Jessie, but getting stuck inside with no supplies wasn’t ideal. Yet no one would suspect where we’d gone.
“Okay,” I told Abby.
“Where will you be hiding out?” Jessie asked her.
