After the call ended, Jack hung his head in his hands, his heart heavy.
Maybe he should have fought harder to keep the tradition of her annual visit alive, but he’d learned a long time ago that competing with his parents always ended badly.
At least, it had when it came to his ex.
Chapter 5
Upon entering Penny’s home, Kat immediately noted the warm, cozy atmosphere. Old-fashioned Christmas decorations like fresh cedar garlands and vintage ornaments complemented the assortment of antique furniture and collectibles.
“It’s in here.” Penny motioned toward a door Kat hadn’t noticed. Painted the same porcelain-white as the walls, it blended seamlessly into the surroundings.
As she crossed the plush art deco rug, Kat yelped, taken aback as something waddled past her. Hardly able to believe her eyes, she gaped at a large Russian tortoise. Or rather, at its backside as it shuffled toward an enormous custom-built enclosure partially hidden by potted plants.
“Don’t worry,” Penny said with a smile. “That’s Chip. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, hemightif he could catch one.” She laughed, and Kat breathed a little easier.
“You have a pet tortoise?”
“We’re more like roommates. And he’s the one in charge.”
Kat grinned, suppressing the urge to stroke his leathery head. She’d always wanted a pet—a dog, specifically. But Fern had a policy against furry animals, since you never knew if someone would be allergic.
“This used to be my dad’s bedroom and office,” Penny explained, giving the door a firm nudge with her hip. “I’ve kept it exactly as he left it.”
Kat followed her into the modest space, momentarily mesmerized by the wall of bookshelves, nautical trinkets, and stunning brass telescope on a vintage mahogany tripod. “Your dad must’ve been quite the adventurer.”
“In his own way, he was.” Penny dropped to her knees and reached beneath the wrought iron bed frame, retrieving a small wooden chest.
Kat’s pulse spiked. This was it. The entire reason she’d come here. Her only hope for saving the shelter resided inside the dusty box.
Penny flipped open the lid and a flicker of surprise darted across her face.
“What’s wrong?” Kat took a step closer, her heartbeat stuttering.
“It’s gone.”
“What do you meangone? Like, it’s been stolen?”
“Not stolen.” An unexpected smile curling her lips, Penny plucked a folded square of paper from inside. “There’s a clue.”
“What do you mean? A clue for what?”
With a fond, wistful expression, Penny explained, “When I was a kid, my dad would set up elaborate treasure hunts in the apartment. He’d hide an object, then leave me clues, often riddles, to help me find it. He must have planned one for my first Christmas home from college. Before he died…” Her voice fell away in a soft whisper, and for a long moment, she didn’t speak, merely staring into the distance.
“What does it say?” Kat asked gently, balancing her eagerness with empathy.
Blinking a few times, as though slowly returning to the present, Penny unfolded the note and read it out loud. “‘The stars wait for no man, and neither does the sun. Once you think it’s over, it’s really just begun.’” Her hands dropped to her lap, a puzzled expression clouding her features.
Kat frowned. “Do you have any idea what it means?”
“I’m afraid not. The clues weren’t usually this difficult. I suppose Dad figured I could handle more challenging ones in college.” She smiled again, but Kat didn’t find the situation amusing. She didn’t have time for games.
Pacing the floor, she furrowed her brow in thought. “If we put our heads together, surely we can solve it. Would you mind reading it again?”
Penny obliged, but hearing the words a second time—or even a third—didn’t lend any more clarity.
Kat ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation. “We’ll never find the brooch at this rate.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Penny said cheerfully, rising to her feet. “We just need to give it some time. And perhaps some food and a good night’s sleep.”
