The barn really had no hiding place, but they struck gold in Granny’s closet, finding a small box tucked away in the corner.
It was empty except for a note inside.
Dear Tooz,
In case you throw away the slip of paper I gave you, ’cause I’m figuring you will, here’s the name of the bank in New Orleans.
He listed an account number, safe-deposit box, and the name Monte.
Just so you know, everything in the bank box I earned honest. I was going to surprise you, but Herr Hitler hadother plans for the world. I hope one day we’re reading this together and laughing about the good ol’ days, eating dinner from your new electric stove. For now, I’m off to war.
Yours always,
Sgt. Leroy Knight
Matt found Granny watching the afternoon session, smiling at the skaters with a sadness in her eyes.
“We found this in an old metal box on the top shelf of your closet.” He handed her his grandpa’s note. “Did you know about this?”
“Yes.” Granny sniffed the note before reading. “I never intended to use the money so I stored the note in the box. It smelled like Leroy’s aftershave.”
From concession, Spike hollered something to Simon Caster as they served the last ever Starlight session. He’d landed well. Purchased a premier spot on the Beachwalk. Pete’s Pretzels upgraded to a franchise in Tallahassee. He sold Spike his trailer for a song.
“Did you ever call the bank?” Matt said.
“Never.” She tucked the note into her pocket. “I didn’t trust Leroy earned the money honestly.”
“Booker and I are road-tripping to New Orleans in the morning. In the meantime, let’s visit Harry. Buy some time from him.”
“Matt, the deed isn’t at the bank in New Orleans. LJ hid it long before Lee went to war. He’d have never told where.”
“Still, I want to see what’s in the safe-deposit box, Granny. Leave no stone unturned. Wonder if Harlow got anywhere with Xander.”
She rounded the office door as he spoke. “He said he’d make a few calls.”
“Excellent. I’m off to find Harry.”
“Knock, knock.”Gazetteeditor Rachel Kirby walked in with a story in hand. “I’m running this piece tomorrow. I thought you’dlike a sneak piece. All this talk of the Starlight, Prince Blue, and Malachi Nickle got me digging about our history, see if I could do a series on our founders and key citizens. I spent weeks in city hall going over all the records, births and deaths, land deeds, who had what and did what and for how long, talking to old-timers. Even learned a few things about the newspaper I didn’t know. And a couple more of our buildings can go on the historical register. Harlow, your house qualifies. Anyway, trouble is, I can’t find anything on the rink. There’s literally no record of it. It’s crazy.” She looked at Granny. “Do you know why?”
“The land and rink belong to the Royal House of Blue,” Booker said. “I think if we had the deed, we’d be able to prove it.”
“Rachel, didn’t you work for the AP in London?” Matt said. “Got any connections in Lauchtenland? The House of Blue? Harlow made some calls, but let’s try more than one approach.”
“A royal mystery? I’m going to need more to the story, but yeah, I know a few people in the Royal Rota. Let me make a few calls.”
Matt and Booker headed over to Harry’s, who was tearing down after his Labor Day bash.
“I’d have invited you,” he said, shaking Matt’s hand, “but given the current situation ... Booker, it’s good to see you back in town.”
“Came to say good-bye to the Starlight. And mend a few fences.”
“Harry, we need you to delay the wrecking ball.”
“Can’t. The bulldozer and cranes are already here and the crew is scheduled for the morning. Delays will only cost the town money. Look, we’ve given you the summer to—”
“I’ll pay for the delay. I need a day or two.”
“What are you up to, Matt? I put up with your petition, listened to the arguments. It’s time to let it go.”
