He hesitated. “I’d rather not meet in public. If it is real, even if it’s not, I don’t want to start a frenzy. You know how Grace Harbor can be.”
“Yes, I do,” she said on the tail end of a groan. “We’re finally settling down from the last round of treasure rumors. Who knows what will start if word of this gets out.”
“Exactly. You can come over here, or I can come to you. If you’d feel more comfortable, I can call Kelly and we can go there. She won’t spread any gossip.” His offer came reluctantly, but he’d tell his sister now if that meant finding out more about the letter.
“She’s going to a birthday party with Reagan this morning, and she and Tommy are going on a date tonight.”
“How do you know more about my sister’s life than I do?”
She laughed. “Friends talk. Plus, I’m babysitting for her tonight.”
“Makes sense.”
“Why don’t you come here in an hour? Depending on what’s in the letter, I have software on my computer that might help us find more information.”
“Perfect.” His smile broadened at his excitement increased. “Do you still have the same apartment?”
“Yes. Just knock when you get here.”
“See you soon. Thanks.” He disconnected the call, wondering if he should call Kelly or Owen and tell them what he’d found.
He trusted them implicitly, but he hesitated. The letter had affected him deeply in ways he couldn’t understand. He didn’t do feelings. They made him uncomfortable, and he covered them with masks of humor and nonchalance. Both of which his siblings would see through.
Keeping this between him and Anna was the safe bet. They’d known each other forever, but they weren’t close like he was to Kelly and Owen. She wouldn’t recognize his guard for what it was.
Chapter Two
Anna Forde stared at her phone, laughing in disbelief. Eighteen-year-old her would be ecstatic that Jack Cruz had not only called but was on his way to her house.
Twenty-six-year-old Anna experienced intrigue more than anything. She’d long ago put aside her crush on her best friend’s older brother, finally admitting he’d only ever see her as his little sister’s friend. That was okay. Once she’d accepted that, she’d moved on and developed several relationships over the years, though she currently wasn’t attached.
She couldn’t wait to see what he’d found and examine the authenticity of the bottle and message. Unfortunately, she’d seen several replicas over the years that had proven to be false. The historian in her came to life, despite the unreasonably early hour for a Saturday morning.
As a history teacher at Grace Harbor High, she rose before six every Monday through Friday. On Sundays she went to church, which left Saturdays as her only time to sleep in—a habit she very much relished.
If what Jack found turned out to be legitimate, however, it would be well worth the early morning wakeup call.
She rushed to take a shower, then dressed in a pair of straight-leg jeans and an Air Force sweatshirt, a gift from her brother in the service. After brushing the few knots from her honey-blonde hair, she pulled the straight tresses into a ponytail.
Refreshed from her shower and ready to face the day, she went to the living room and tidied up the area. Minimalism wasn’t her style. Her apartment was a testament to places she’d been, cultures she’d studied, and gifts people had given her over the years. She loved surrounding herself with memories rather than packing them away.
Unfortunately, organization, especially in housekeeping, wasn’t her strong point, a fact that surprised most people when they realized she was a historian. God had given her the gift to memorize dates and dynasties over thousands of years, but she’d often forget to carry a cup back to the kitchen.
Short on time, she shoved the few dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later, rather than wash them by hand. She pulled a dusting cloth from the linen closet and ran it over her furniture, then passed the vacuum. Lastly, she emptied the trash, then ran it to the dumpster downstairs. Her apartment wasn’t perfect, but it was presentable.
She hadn’t had coffee yet, and the realization made her crave a cup of the hot liquid. Before she could go to the kitchen, she heard a knock on the door. A glimpse through the peephole revealed Jack had arrived.
Opening the door for him, she nearly squealed with delight when he handed her a cup of coffee from the shop around the corner. “Thank you. I was about to make a pot when you knocked. The coffee I thought I brewed when I first woke up didn’t have coffee grounds.”
He laughed. “I figured it was the least I could do for interrupting your sleep. I didn’t know how you drink yours, so there’s several different sweetener packets and a variety of creamers in the bag with the bagels.”
Her eyes widened. “You brought bagels, too?”
“Is it possible to stop at Sam’s Coffee and not get a bagel?” He held up a bag. “An everything with cream cheese. I took a bet on my memory that those are your favorites.”
She ignored the tug of delight that he’d stored such information. “That’s perfect, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
