Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’d think the first clue would be easier.”
“Don’t give up. We have to let it percolate a bit.” She gestured around the shop. “Like a strong coffee.”
It was a nice thought, but the truth remained. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Let it steep.”
“So first it’s coffee, now it’s tea?” He shot a look at Elisa. “Why are younotfrustrated?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe the same reason you’re frustratedallthe time?”
Easy for her to say. Elisa didn’t have the fate of an entire family legacy hanging over her. If they couldn’t figure this out, the money would remain where it was—locked away, and doing no one any good. Time wasn’t something they had a lot of.
This partnership didn’t need to last any longer than it had to.
He cast a look toward the counter, hoping their order was almost ready, and caught Miley pointing right at them as she spoke with a female customer. He groaned. So much for keeping a low profile.
“Let me think.” Oblivious to the gossip chain starting at the counter, Elisa held up one hand. “Your grandfather liked history, right?”
Noah nodded. “He collected early American memorabilia and thrift books. And the man memorized the lyrics to the Hamilton musical before it was cool.” He snorted at the mental image of Grandpa rapping the lyrics to “My Shot” while vacuuming the foyer of the Blue Pirogue.
That gave him an idea. He shifted in his seat as a mom and two toddlers scooted past their table. “I think he’s got a collectible Paul Revere spoon somewhere in the library at the inn. Maybe that’s a lead?”
“Maybe.” Elisa scrunched her nose. “Though that seems too easy.”
Easy? He was surprised he’d even thought of it in the first place. He cleared his throat, trying not to be offended. “Got a better idea?”
She took the clue from his hand and held the papers side by side, squinting. “I’m working on it.”
They needed progress, not perfection. Noah scrubbed his palms down his jeans. “I can check the inn when I get home tonight, see if there’s anything in the collector’s case.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to rule it out.” Elisa was still squinting, almost like she was patronizing him.
“Number twenty-seven,” Miley bellowed from the front.
“That’s probably us.” Elisa started to stand, but Noah beat her to it.
“I’ll get it.” He turned to head for the counter, when something dark caught his eye outside the window.
Smoke.
Billowing out the front door of the Magnolia Blossom Café.
* * *
Elisa stood unmoving in the middle of the diner, surveying the damage with her hands shoved into her hair. Water dripped from its tangled ends, much like it dripped off everything else. The chairs had toppled over in everyone’s rush to get outside once the overhead sprinklers turned on. The magnolia flower centerpieces she’d so carefully crafted were wilted, their drowned petals sagging onto the tabletops.
“Man.” Noah’s deep timbre sounded beside her. He’d been the first one to sprint across the street and race inside, as well as the one to ensure the fire department had been called as her staff stumbled out, coughing. Now they were being corralled across the street until the fire department determined the scene clear. “What a mess.”
“That’s sort of like saying the bay is wet.” Water seeped into Elisa’s sandaled feet as the acrid scent of smoke lingered in the air. A piece of soggy hamburger bun floated past her.
“You were lucky.” Captain Sanders shrugged out of his bulky fire retardant jacket as he approached. “It’s only water damage. The sprinklers did their job.” He looked around the saturated café. “I know it seems like a lot right now, but it’ll clean up.”
Elisa fought back a smirk. Clean up. Right. With her and what army? She forced a smile, wrapping her arms around her middle as a sudden chill racked her body. “Does Delia know?”
Captain Sanders shrugged, holding up one finger as his walkie talkie squawked. “We haven’t told her.” Then he walked a few steps away, speaking into the device in low tones.
Delia couldn’t know about this yet—she had enough to worry about with her health. Though keeping it a secret from her wouldn’t be possible either. Maybe Elisa could put off the inevitable until she had time to get the bulk of the water out.
