Page 144 of In the Pursuit of Haven
“Never. I made my deal with Haven and I didn’t look back. Now get out of here before I forget my granddaughter cares about you.”
Jessie’s hands went to my arm. His shoulder shielded me from Robert’s fierce glare. I had no doubt that if I hadn’t come, the two would’ve torn each other apart. He stormed out the door, taking me with him.
“Hey!” Robert shouted at our backs like the madman he’d always been. “Jessie Crabb? You’d better make sure my granddaughterisn’tdestroyed by this, or you haven’t seen the last of me.”
In my confusion, I didn’t know whether to be touched or terrified.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Iset the heavy cane down on Haven’s desk in her secret room. We’d made our tense way back to Baker’s Island after our run-in with Robert… my grandfather. I still had a hard time wrapping my head around all of this.
Jessie was avoiding my eyes.
“Who killed Drake?” I asked him.
“I’ll tell you, okay! Just… give me time.” He sat heavily on the roller chair.
“What would you do if someone you loved had a horrible secret in their past? What if it was someone close to you…?”
In an instant I knew what Jessie had been talking about. His father. Jessie’s father had killed Drake! Pete had made a deal with Haven to keep quiet about the baby. Why would he do that to just keep her away?
He wouldn’t!
Haven wantedhimto stay away! She wouldn’t want him near her young charge, and she’d gotten too close to the truth with her mystery board. Pete was more than happy to testify against Robert and call him a killer, cast the shadow of doubt on him forallthese murders. Liar! I always knew he was scum the way he treated Jessie. And Pete kept doubling down with his drunken tirades—anything to keep the suspicion off of himself! He was after this treasure, just like his brothers.
Only the drink had slowed him down.
My fingers shook on the cane. I didn’t want Jessie to tell me anymore, especially if he wasn’t ready, but I wanted to comfort him too. He’d probably found out the horrible truth six months ago when I first started noticing a change in him. The blackmailer who’d contacted him would’ve emphasized how horrible it would be for his family if word got out. Jessie would’ve confronted his father. Pete would’ve revealed my scandalous origins in a drunken rage.
And Jessie had suffered through this alone. A secret like this was too horrible to keep to himself. It would eat him alive. He’d try to go along with Hunter’s men to erase the past. Abby would’ve gotten in over her head. And here we were, trying to beat them at their own game.
I turned to Corwin’s cane, trying to figure out where to go from here. First things first—Jessie wasn’t alone anymore. He had me. And secondly, we were putting that blackmailer in his place! He’d never get to this treasure first. Steely determination filled me. And thirdly? We were finding the missing letter on the Corwin cane. Returning to my search, I hunted for all possible hidden twists and cavities in the shaft. I found a trigger in the side and jerked the handle up and off the stick.
“Watch out!” Jessie warned.
A sharp end sprang out and I moved my hand in time to avoid getting sliced, diced and quartered. I screamed and scrambled back as the cane landed against the attic floor.
So! It had been used as a weapon. Now that the danger was over, I inspected the blade and found the letter: “I.”
“‘I’ is the missing letter,” I announced. Plucking a marker from Haven’s desk, I glanced over at Jessie. “Okay!” I said.
“Okay?”
I shrugged. “Take your time telling me about Drake. I love you no matter what you say.Never forget it.”
His gaze shot to me.
I began the process of piecing together possible phrases and words. “No sir, ode,”I wrote. That’s what I’d come up with earlier, then I added the “I.”
And that made no sense. I tried to rearrange the letters below after my first attempt. “Rid noise O.”
This was going to be a long night. I was way off, but I wrote down the phrase anyway, hoping to get some ideas from my blunders.
Jessie’s eyes sparkled. He’d been watching me in shocked affection since I’d announced my undying devotion. “I doubt Crabb talked like a caveman,” he teased.
I poked him in the side. “Don’t just sit there. Help me out.”
He rearranged the letters below my attempts: “I do snore…s.”
