Aggie’s expression turned sly. “Oh, I picked it up a while back. I’ve got a colonoscopy coming up, and I’m pretty sure my doctor has a crush on me. Thought I might record him to be sure.”
Jack made a choking sound.
Cora elbowed him, trying not to laugh. “Aggie, you can’t secretly record your doctor. That’s probably illegal.”
“Details.” Aggie waved a hand dismissively, as if legality was a mere suggestion. “Now, are we going to get some juicy stories or what?”
And just like that, Aggie was off, recorder in hand,corralling townspeople into sharing their favorite Lolly anecdotes. Cora and Jack followed, equal parts amused and mortified as they watched her work with the precision of a seasoned detective.
As the morning wore on, they gathered story after story about Lolly. The tales ranged from heartwarming to downright hilarious, and by the time they took a break on a nearby bench, Cora was seeing her grandmother through new eyes.
“For all these stories, we’re no closer to figuring out what happened between Lolly and my grandfather,” Jack said, stretching out his legs.
Cora nodded. “Yeah. It’s like there’s a big gap in everyone’s memory. No one remembers them being together.”
“Well,” a new voice chimed in, “have you thought about checking the old newspapers?”
They both looked up to see Winston standing there, a knowing smile on his face. Beside him, Bea wore a lavender velour tracksuit and bright white sneakers, as if Winston had interrupted her morning walk.
“The newspapers?” Cora repeated.
“Yes, newspapers,” Winston said with a grin. “The big, crinkly things you actually had to hold. None of these clicky headlines everyone chases now. If you wanted real news, you waited for the morning edition.”
Bea nodded. “TheSunrise Gazettehas documented every sneeze and hiccup in this town since 1902. If there was something going on between Lolly and Lincoln Harlow, it’ll be in there.”
Cora and Jack exchanged glances. “That’s...a really good idea,” she said.
“Of course it is,” Bea said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go rescue Mr. Fitzgerald from Aggie before she tries to get his dental records.”
As Winston swung openthe door to theSunrise Gazette’s archives, a wave of musty air washed over them. The room was crammed with rows of old filing cabinets and shelves sagging under the weight of countless yellowed papers. Sunlight filtered in through one window in the corner, sneaking through the gaps of a bent metal blind, while the rest of the room remained cloaked in shadow.
“To protect the papers,” Winston explained with an air of authority.
Cora raised an eyebrow. Protect them from what? A hundred years of local news didn’t seem to need safeguarding. She glanced at the stacks of old newspapers, some of them piled so high they looked ready to topple at the slightest touch.
Unbothered by her skepticism, Winston stepped into the room with a sense of purpose. His hand landed on an ancient, clunky machine, its bulky frame dominating the desk. “The town council got this for me a few years back,” he said proudly, giving it an affectionate pat. “Took some wheeling and dealing, but they finally came through. It’s got all the archives stored on it. Well, most of them, anyway.”
Cora nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm. “That’s impressive, Winston. It must’ve taken a lot of effort to get that done.”
She snuck a look at Jack, and they shared a quick, secretive grin. The machine belonged in a museum, but Winston’s genuine excitement made it hard not to appreciate his passion, even if it was a little outdated.
“It’s definitely where the magic happens,” Winston declared.
Cora bit back a laugh. The only magic she could see was how this room managed to hold so many filing cabinets without collapsing.
“It’s . . . something,” Jack said diplomatically, ducking to avoid a cobweb.
Winston beamed like they’d complimented his firstborn. “Isn’t it? Every issue of theGazettesince 1902 is here. On microfilm, of course. Can’t trust those newfangled digital formats. What if the internet explodes?”
Cora pressed her lips together, trying desperately not to laugh. Jack, meanwhile, became very interested in studying a nearby filing cabinet.
“Now,” Winston continued, “the microfilm reader is a bit temperamental, but aren’t we all?” He chuckled at his joke. “You’ll find the 1960s over in that cabinet.” He pointed to a filing cabinet that had clearly seen better days, possibly during the actual 1960s.
“Thanks, Winston,” Cora said, genuinely grateful for his help. “We really appreciate this.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure. It’s not often I get to share this treasure trove with anyone. Most folks these days are too glued to their cell phones to get in here where the real action is.”
Jack laughed, quickly turning it into an unconvincing cough.
