Page 95 of In the Pursuit of Haven
“You don’t have to do that,” I argued.
Luther barged into the room with a welcome smile. He jumped in surprise when he saw Jessie. “Roxy, your husband is here too? What a pleasure! Jessie, you know, I haven’t seen you since the wedding.” He approached Jessie whose jacket bulged with the stolen goods.
I’d meant to tell Jessie that the Bible was as good as mine—Luther and I had tried to pawn off custody of it to the other’s museum.
Luther extended his hand out to Jessie, which wasn’t about to work out so well, considering that Jessie was trying to keep the antique from falling out of his coat.
“Luther,” I quickly intervened. “Look what I’ve found.” My fingers landed over the expensive fabric of the older man’s suit as I steered Luther to the pipe whistle.
His brows rose. “Is this the item you were looking at in the Witch Museum?”
No, that was the cane, but I played along. “Surprise!”
He chuckled. “I was getting ready to roll back my cuffs to put my dukes up. Jude works over there, you know, and he won’t have much to do with me after I outbid him on an old pillory stocks antique, can you believe it? I thought he’d sentence me to stay in them overnight he was so upset, but I had every intention of sticking my neck out for you, so to speak.” He chuckled at the pun. “But yes, I see you didn’t need me after all.”
I hate lying to such a good guy.“I thought… it was there,” I said, “but we ended up… uh… a friend had it. Weird, huh?”
“That is marvelous, absolutely marvelous! As the kids say nowadays, you’re killing it. You should tell Boston to be careful, or I might steal you from them.”
I smiled brightly. Compliments must be one of my love languages, because I melted every time they came my way.
“You should really consider it,” he said without waiting for my response. “You can finish up with The Lady, and well… I know the cost of living is going up. We might not be able to compete with what Boston pays…”
Jessie’s head tilted behind Luther’s back. He’d zipped up his second jacket, so that his bulging stomach didn’t look so awkward. He gave me a look that was meant to speed things up.Easier said than done.
“Well…” I tried to figure out how to wrap up this conversation with the most talkative man in existence. “I hate to run, but we’re going to try to catch the last of this parade. We’re um… George Washington’s ride.”
“Ha! Tell that to Glover’s men. I believe they’re the ones waiting to take him across the Delaware!” I laughed as he patted me on the back.
I loved Haven’s friends!
The very next instant my brain snapped to attention—I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t made the connection before, but this was LutherLeon! He had to be related to Walter Leon. And if he wasn’t, this town was too small for him not to know who he was. If anyone knew anything about this mystery, he would.
But how did I bring this up?“Sorry, Robert murdered your relative. Now tell me everything!”
I flinched. What an awful thing to happen to such a good man. Very aware of Jessie inching for the door, I cleared my throat. “I’ve just been reading some letters that Haven wrote, and she mentioned a Leon.”
He froze, so did Jessie.
Oh no, I felt like the worst person in the world, but now that I’d started my interrogation there was no going back. “That was Walter Leon, wasn’t it?” It almost came out a croak I felt so ashamed for bringing it up. “Are you related to him?”
“That was my brother,” he said quickly.
With difficulty, I stopped myself from gasping. This was terrible. I should’ve just left it alone. My gaze traveled to Jessie, whose shoulders had tensed. He hadn’t known?
Luther’s eyes glistened and I realized with a start that those were unshed tears. “Yes, they were such good friends,” he said. “Haven and Matthew and…” He wouldn’t say Robert’s name aloud, would he? “Well, they were inseparable back in the day. We called my brother and his friends the Three Musketeers.” He forced a laugh. “They were quite the adventurers, traveling all over these coasts like pirates. I was the bookworm, more interested in the history of boats than sailing, but now I wished that I—well, I could’ve shown more interest in what Walt was doing. It would’ve given me a chance to spend some time together before… we lost him.” That came out a whisper.
Unbelievably he blamed himself for neglecting Walt. If anyone had been a good brother, that would be Luther, though perhaps a little talkative and absentminded. He was flawed in all the right ways.
I touched his arm. It shook under my fingers. “I’m sorry for your loss. They were very sweet letters,” I assured him… up to a certain point.
“Haven was always talking about him,” Luther said, “and Matthew. I did my best to help her be happy after… everything.”
Luther had been Haven’s confidante all these years. Maybe he knew that she’d been looking into his brother’s murder—into all of these meaningless deaths. By all rights, these men should’ve been husbands, fathers, not had their lives cut so short and for what?
A treasure that could never replace them.
“Did Haven mention to you that she was trying to figure out what Walt was doing in the Bahamas before Matthew was lost at sea?” I asked. I knew I was being obnoxiously bold, but I’d kick myself later if I didn’t find Walt’s connection to this treasure.
