“Help yourself.”
Sam walked over to the desk and lifted the lid.
“What’s in there now is my stuff. Far as I know the desk was here when the other tenant lived here. I guess he forgot to clean it out or didn’t want the book. I’m not much of a reader, so I gave it to my mom.”
“Do you happen to have his or her name or contact information?” Sadie asked.
“Sure don’t. Haven’t gotten any stray mail either. But I’m assuming it was a guy because of some stuff left behind—stray socks and whatnot. I reckon my landlord might know something about him though. I can give you her information.”
Sam closed the lid. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“What’s so special about that book?” He gave a dry grin. “My luck, it’s a first edition worth a million bucks.”
“Nothing that exciting,” Sadie said. “It just had some personaleffects inside and we’d like to return it. About when did you find the book?”
He hitched a shoulder. “I guess it was a few weeks ago. I’d just moved in. Beginning of the month—first or second, I’d say.”
Aaron pulled out his wallet and looked through his things. “The owner of the building has the gallery downstairs, but it’s closed today. Here’s her card. You can have it; her information is saved in my phone.”
Sadie took the card. “Thank you.”
Sam pulled out a business card and handed it to Aaron. “If you happen to hear from the former tenant, could you let him know we’re trying to reach him?”
“Of course.”
They made small talk about the island for a few minutes. He grew up in Brighton Beach but preferred Tucker Island. He was working at a nearby factory.
When the conversation petered out, Sadie hitched her purse on her shoulder and stood. “Well, we should probably let you get on with your day. Thank you so much for your help, Aaron. We sure do appreciate it.”
“No problem. Hope you find him.”
They said their goodbyes and left. Once inside the truck Sadie turned to Sam. “Let’s call the landlord.” She glanced at the card. “Merilee Owens.”
“Be my guest.” He started the truck and got the air going.
Sadie tapped the number into her phone and put it on speaker. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Then it clicked over to voice mail.“You’ve reached the voice mail of Merilee Owens. I’m not available to take your callat the moment. Leave a message orcall me back during business hours, nine to five Monday through Friday and nine to one on Saturday. Have a wonderful day.”
Sadie wavered briefly, then tapped the Disconnect button.
“Don’t want to leave a message?”
Sadie slouched in her seat. “I’m tired of waiting for people to return my calls. I’ll try her first thing in the morning.”
“Another setback. Are you disappointed?”
“It’s not a setback, really, just a delay. But yes, I’d hoped to resolve this today, despite the unlikelihood. It has to belong to this guy though, right? The former tenant? He’s the man who’s going to propose to his girl—if he hasn’t already.”
“That’s the assumption I’m working under.”
“Then we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. We’ll get a forwarding address and pay him a visit.”
Twenty
Nothing clarifies a person’s romantic interest quite like the threat of competition.
—Romance Writing 101
“Happy Father’s Day.” Sam stepped inside his parents’ home and gave his dad a hug.
