“Exact match,” she said. “Must have had a duplicate copy printed. Someone cut out the faces and put them inside the locket.”
We stared at the locket, then Jazmine flipped over the secret photo, briefly arguing with Seb when she interrupted his deciphering. “I’ll give it right back, just let me see it for a second... Look. The happy couple is standing in front of a building. See that fancy stonework above the doorframe? I know that... don’t I?”
Of course!
“It’s Mabel’s parlor downtown!” I said, nearly dumping the entire photo book on the floor out of excitement.
The reason Wyrd Jack was called “Wyrd” originated with Mabel and her interest in spiritualism and fortune-telling. For several years in the early 1920s, she held séances in the big Pink House, north of the river, until Wyrd Jack leased some space downtown for Mabel inside a three-story apartment building, where she read tarot and performed spirit-medium services for the locals.
“Mabel’s old spirit parlor,” Jaz whispered. “Holy shit. Is that right?”
Bean’s Trading Post was quite literally a block away. I’d been so close today and hadn’t had a clue. Surely that was a sign from the universe that we were on the right track.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Seb said, furiously scribbling the final letter. “‘Hidden in deep corners.’ That’s what it says on the back of the photo.”
“Shit,” Jazmine said, scratching her cheek. “Deep corners? Guys, what if another clue is hidden inside the spirit parlor?”
“Easier to hide something on your own property than on a confiscated ship,” I said, considering it. “But wouldn’t anything hidden have been found already?”
After Wyrd Jack was arrested, Mabel’s spirit parlor was abandoned—the townsfolk turned against her and her unborn child, my great-grandmother—and eventually the space was leased to another tenet. Over the years, it had been many things, but for the past decade, it had been occupied by another business.
“Pretty sure High Spirits Brewing owns the entire building,” Seb said.
A local craft beer company. They ran a bustling taproom and restaurant on the first floor, and in the basement, brewed a popular sour-cherry IPA and several cannabis-infused drinks.
“It’s one of the busiest places in town,” Jazmine said. “We could go check it out, but there’s no way we’re getting in if they’re carding at the door.”
I asked, “Does anyone know anybody who works there? Dishwashers, hostesses... ? Maybe someone can let us take a tour?”
Jazmine and Seb both shook their heads.
“We don’t even know if we’re on the right track,” Jazmine said.“What if the spirit parlor behind them in the photo is a coincidence? Just a backdrop.”
“Everything has been personal so far,” I argued, pulling out other items from our box of clues. “The marriage license, the key leading to Wyrd Jack’s ship, the locket. All of these things are centered around the two of them, so it makes sense that Mabel would hide something in her own place of business.”
“Fair point,” Seb said.
“Hidden in deep corners,” Jaz contemplated. “Why ‘deep’? Why not ‘dark’?”
Great question. “Maybe in the basement? That would be deep...”
Seb tapped the secret photo. “I’m on board. We need to explore inside that building. Poke around in all the corners, try to figure out what she meant by ‘deep.’”
“Right,” Jazmine said, thinking. “When does High Spirits’ taproom close? Midnight? Can’t really do that without looking sus in front of tables of tourists chugging flights of pale ales.”
“Then we figure out a way to explore the brewery after-hours,” I said.
“I hear you, Paige, I really do,” Seb said, scrunching up one side of his face. “But what you’re suggesting is technically known in the real world as breaking and entering. That’s pretty daring, even for the Wags.”
Point taken. “I didn’t say it would be easy. Maybe Benny can turn off the alarm system. You know... hack it?”
“Christ,” Seb mumbled, scrubbing the back of his head. “That’s a lot of pressure on a guy who just wants to dream up ways to shake down parents for babysitting money.”
“He hacked the security system at school,” I pointed out.
We all looked at one another, hesitant to make a group decision.
“Come on, guys. We don’t even know for sure if these photos are pointing us to Mabel’s old spirit parlor,” Jazmine pointed out. “Are we really willing to go to jail for a hunch?”
