Like:
“Maybe there’s code somewhere on it, but we need a magnifying glass.”
And:
“Maybe we need to find an important location that matches up with the locket.”
And:
“Maybe we need to reread the Wyrd Jack biography and see if the locket’s mentioned.”
All ideas were valid, but they’d take time to run through, andSeb had only a few hours to work on my car. He had plans later in the afternoon that he couldn’t get out of.
“I committed to this a few days ago, before I knew we’d be trying to figure out treasure clues,” he told me.
“Hot date, huh?” I said.
He arched a brow and gave me a sly smile that caused panicky feelings.Washe actually dating someone in town?Why do you care? Stop being nosy.I looked away, frustrated that something so small would make me upset.
“Nah.”
“What?” I asked.
“Not dating anyone. Just family shit.”
“Oh?” My heart soared. I wished it hadn’t, but it did. Some part of me was happy he was single. “Hot date with your dad, then?”
“Something like that.”
He didn’t offer details, and I didn’t ask. Punkin greeted him enthusiastically, and afterward, Seb was eager to get started on my car. So I left him in the garage after we agreed to keep the locket stashed away with the other clues, marriage license and key, in a shoebox that we stashed behind the dryer. “Just in case,” he said. “Youhavehad a break-in, after all.”
The afternoon flew by. He worked under my car with the garage door open, blasting the Stooges and MC5. When he took a break, I made sandwiches, and we ate on the back porch, staring out at the shore and talking about various people around town. And, of course, the locket.
We texted Benny and Jazmine photos of it, and ended up talking to them both on FaceTime to show them what we’d found and tell them the entire story. No one mentioned Jazmine blowing upat all of us in the cave, and she appeared to be in good spirits—which was a relief. We agreed to ponder the locket’s significance and meet up later in the week to compare theories.
Late in the afternoon, I heard the Corvair rumble to life and raced out to find Seb smeared with grease but grinning ear to ear, leaning over the engine.
“Smoke-free,” he proudly proclaimed.
“You fixed it?” I looked the car over. “Oh my God, Seb. You’re brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I owe you big-time.”
He slammed the hood down. “I’ll start dreaming up ways you can pay me back.”
It didn’t take him long to gather all his tools and wash his hands. Then he gave the Corvair a quick test drive and gave it a thumbs-up. He whistled for his dog, and when they were both inside the Bronco, he reconfirmed plans we’d discussed on the porch during lunch.
“I’ll come over tomorrow night after work to brainstorm. If anyone figures anything out before then, they’ll let the group know.”
“Sounds good. Hey, Seb? Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
His cheeks colored ever so slightly, and he looked pleased but brushed away my thanks. “It’s nothing. I mean, what are friends for?”
I smiled at him. “I’m glad we are. Friends. Again.”
“Same.” The rest of his reply was so quiet, I almost didn’t catch it over the roar of the Bronco’s engine. “Haven’t been this glad about anything in a long time.”
He drove away, leaving me with a jumble of emotions. But even if I couldn’t completely decide how I felt about Seb, I felt goodabout what we’d accomplished. We’d found the locket today, and I was no longer a prisoner in my own home. That was worth everything to me.
So I did a few things around the house before joyfully settling into the Corvair and taking it into town. It drove better now, or maybe that was my imagination, and I wasn’t dogged by a trail of white smoke. What more could I want?
