Page 141 of In the Pursuit of Haven
I tried to work in the extra letter with what we’d already come up with. Jessie had mischievously arranged the collection of Relics into the words“IS O’ NERD.”If we added an “O,” we had“IS OO NERD.”
Yeah, no. Neither of us had enough of a handle on our English studies to unscramble these words into a phrase that worked.
Maybe Davey did? Still, I didn’t trust him enough to give him the letters we already had. He’d said he wasn’t a Shepherd, but…
“No sir, ode!”
“Does no… ir.”
Ugh. None of those made sense. Would the letter on the cane makethatbig of a difference in figuring this thing out? Now that I knew Luther was probably a Shepherd, I was almost tempted to find him and demand his help. Haven had trusted him enough to be her confidante, and yet… was Jessie right that he’d only bring more trouble?
Luther had certainly not done anything to stop us from finding this treasure. As a Shepherd, he’d see right through Jessie when he’d been so obvious about smuggling that Bible from his museum. Maybe he was oblivious to any inside information, and the secrets of his family’s Relic had died with his brothers?
And then there was the matter of bringing up more painful memories.
No, I couldn’t bring myself to go to Luther either. We’d practically found everything there was to find… except that ghastly cane.
Searching Jessie’s eyes, I wondered what kind of fight he was about to give me for suggesting we snatch the last relic from my murderous grandfather on our way home.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
We neared the wharf where we’d docked and coincidentally, we closed in on Robert’s boathouse. It was late, but Zak’s tavern was still hopping across the way… and Robert’s lights were out. That could mean that he’d gone over there for a stiff drink to forget the horrible sins of his past… or he’d turned in at a decent hour to sleep away the night like any old man should.
“Jessie,” I whispered. “I think we… uh… we need to…”
He winced then nodded. “Okay, butI’lldo it.”
My heart did an uncomfortable somersault and fell flat on its face. Robert worked on a short fuse when he was in a drunken rage. He’d been so obsessed about talking to me “alone!” The last thing he would appreciate was a visit from Peter Crabb’s son when he wanted me instead.
“Does Robert know I’m his granddaughter?” I had to know for sure. Was that why he’s been hounding me?
Jessie looked pained by the question, but he admitted the truth again. “He… does.”
“I’m going with you,” I decided. I didn’t think Robert would hurt me. “He said to come to him when I want the rest of the story… I want it.”
Jessie’s shoulders tensed.
I had to make him agree to this. “The only way we’re getting that cane is if I ask for it,” I said.
“Okay.” He gritted his teeth. “But… honey, if you care anything about me, stay close. Don’t go off script. Please. If anything happens to you…?”
“I know.” I couldn’t let him finish. I knew the fear because I felt the same for him, despite the tumultuous storms of our relationship, and maybe because of them. We’d been through it all together. I’d face my long-lost grandfather when it was the last thing I wanted to do because I couldn’t let anything happen to my Jessie. I grabbed his hand, feeling the familiar creases of his palm against mine.
Our steps took us closer to the houseboat. My husband squeezed my hand. I couldn’t hear any snores ringing from the old houseboat. Was Robert home or out drinking?
I knew Jessie would prefer him gone. Either way, we had to do this now. I couldn’t have Jessie face Robert when my back was turned.
I reached for the door handle. It moved easily under my hand.
The door swung open. My pulse jumped to my ears. I hadn’t quite expected to break in so easily. “Hello?” I called inside.
Jessie pulled me against him. “Shh.” His mouth left my ear when he straightened.
Years of dealing with his father had made him wary of what kind of trouble came from surprising a man drowning in alcohol, especially one prone to temper… and this one had killed.
I scanned the darkness. Mail and wrappers littered the carpet, a large-screen TV took up most of the front room, and—I caught my breath—the cane rested across the couch as if laid there by a sneaky devil tempting us to do a smash and grab.
It was the last Relic… even if we could get close enough to see what letter had been left on the cane, I’d be satisfied.
