“Hey,” Reed laughed, kicking his boots off before flopping onto the couch. “I brought taffy and licorice, too.”
A sucker for the sweet, star anise flavor, Jack dug inside the bag, finally retrieving a handful of black licorice shaped like lumps of coal—fitting, given his grinch status this year. Satisfied with his selection for the moment, he handed the bag back to Reed before sinking into his oversize plaid recliner.
“I was surprised you called,” Reed admitted, choosing an amaretto truffle for himself. “Doesn’t Lucy usually visit this time of year?”
The slippery candy slid down Jack’s throat, lodging in his esophagus. Coughing violently, he pounded a fist against his chest until it shook loose, reopening his airways.
“Are you okay?” Reed asked with concern.
“I’m fine,” Jack croaked, his eyes watering. Leaping to his feet, he crossed the short distance to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. When he’d finally caught his breath, he shared, “Lucy can’t make it this year.”
“Oh, man. I’m sorry. I know how much you look forward to seeing her.”
“Thanks. I’ll miss her, but life happens.” Rather, hisparentshappened, but he didn’t feel like going into the dreary details at the moment.
While Reed arranged the deck of cards on the coffee table for their game of gin rummy, Jack set a saucepan on the stove to make a quick batch of apple cider, trying not to think about Lucy’s canceled trip.
What he wouldn’t give to have his little sister back in Poppy Creek for good. For a time, he’d even considered setting her up with Reed. In Jack’s opinion, she couldn’t do better than his kind and dependable friend who made a stable, honest living running his own nursery that specialized in rare varieties of roses. What girl didn’t like flowers? Besides, according to the number of female tourists who swooned over his “boy-next-door” vibe and “soulful” brown eyes, he wasn’t bad looking, either.
But for all Jack’s not-so-subtle hints, Reed seemed to be pining after someone else, although he’d never talk about it no matter how much he pried. Not that Jack could blame him. He never talked about the day Ashley left. For all his friends knew, their breakup had been mutual. That was the unexpected side effect of being the eldest child in a large family—he got used to taking care of his siblings’ problems and burying his own.
Maybe if he put a little more energy into his own life, he wouldn’t be so lonely.
Chapter 9
“Come in, come in.” Bright-eyed and breathless, Penny held the door open and waved for Kat to step inside the apartment. “I’m so glad you solved it!”
“Maybe. It’s not too early, is it? I confess to being a little anxious to find out if my guess is correct.” She’d forced herself to wait until seven and raced over, skipping Trudy’s scrumptious-smelling breakfast, though the mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked banana bread had tempted her resolve as she’d rushed out the front door.
“Not at all. Honestly, I could hardly sleep. I kept going over the riddle all night. I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoyed my dad’s treasure hunts.”
Kat wasn’t sure she’d use the wordenjoyto describe her experience thus far, but she did feel exhilarated at the prospect of finding the brooch.
As she stood in front of the grandfather clock, her heart stopped when she noticed two keyholes on the upper and lower compartments encasing the dial and pendulum.
“Don’t look so worried.” Popping onto her tiptoes, Penny reached behind a decorative spire on top and retrieved a small gold key. “Dad used to keep it locked so I wouldn’t play with the mechanism.” After she unlocked both doors, she nodded toward the bottom one. “You check in there. I imagine he would have taped it somewhere along the inside walls.”
Careful not to disrupt the brass weights and pendulum, Kat ran her hand along the inner edge, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. After several minutes of searching, she bit back an excited squeal as her fingers grazed an unusual lump.
“Did you find it?” Penny asked eagerly.
“I’m not sure.” After gently peeling back the tape, Kat withdrew her hand. Her heart sank. “It’s just a dusty piece of paper.”
“Oh.” Penny scrunched her face in disappointment. “I was afraid that might happen.”
“That what might happen?”
“I think it’s another clue. I didn’t want to mention it earlier in case I was wrong, but the treasure hunts usually had more than one.” She offered a sheepish smile.
Mildly irritated by the revelation, Kat unfolded the note and read the clue out loud. “‘From death comes life, often felt but never seen. Getting too close may cause strife, but you can still enjoy the gleam.’” Meeting Penny’s gaze she asked, “Any ideas?”
Penny held out her hand, and Kat passed her the note, waiting anxiously as her sister studied the peculiar phrasing. Finally, she glanced up with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, but nothing comes to mind.”
Frustrated, Kat placed both hands behind her head and filled her lungs with a deep breath as she stared at the ceiling.Think, Kat, think… what could it mean?
“Maybe something related to cooking or food?” Penny offered. “You know, from death—of an animal or a plant—comes life, as in sustenance?”
“Maybe. But you can see an animal or plant.”
