Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
T here is nothing like a hot shower to chase the chills away as well as warm pajamas, and the heat from a fire in the fireplace, which Mo and Roxy were very grateful for, both cuddled in front of it, Ian and I doing the same on the couch.
“Your dad got that scene under control fast,” Ian said.
“It was fairly easy with so many people pointing to Stone as the one who started it all and with people helping Professor Anderson while completely ignoring Stone.” I kissed his cheek. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
“Always, Pep. Are you warm enough? You were shivering pretty good after I got you out of the fountain.”
“Toasty warm. I only wish I could have had time to speak with Professor Anderson about treasure hunting before Stone showed up. The professor explained to Stone that any Willow family treasure found would belong to the Willow Lake Historical Society. Basically, letting him know, descendant or not, he had no chance in laying any claim to the Willow treasure.”
“He has to know how flimsy his claim is, so why make it?” Ian asked as if he was thinking aloud.
I offered a possible explanation. “I’d say he’s looking to get as much information about the treasure as he can and saying he’s related could help.”
“Or hinder since he can’t prove it. He hasn’t even offered a plausible explanation as to how he could be related to the Willows like names and dates of ancestors passed down through generations. You know, Ignatius must have been extremely wealthy to have built the whole town and the mansion and have money to see to the care of the place years after his death. Where did his wealth come from, inheritance, investments?”
“Good question, though I doubt anyone cared about it at that time with Ignatius investing so much in an area that held nothing more than a few wood buildings. That information is lost somewhere in history. But I’ll see if I or Amy can find anything out about that in the historical society’s files.”
“Do you think your dad will jail Stone?”
“I think he would like to, but he doesn’t have any cause. Stone really didn’t assault anyone, and it was the professor’s gallantry that landed us in the fountain. Though I can promise you that he will keep an extra eye on him.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Ian said, hugging me. “It was no coincidence that he showed up at the college tonight.”
“Are you suggesting that he’s stalking me?” I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him following me.”
“There are others besides him who could be keeping tabs on you, thinking you will lead them to what they’re looking for, or your little plan about letting everyone know that you have the key to the Willow Mansion is working.”
I stretched out the ache in my back, having been at my computer since Ian left at eight this morning and it was now past lunch. I just had to wrap up my blog post— The Benefits of Prepping: Peace of Mind, Practicality, and Preparedness —then I’d be all done with blog posts for the remainder of the month. I got busy typing.
Surprisingly, prepping benefits you even in “normal” times. Running late for work but out of bread? No problem—you’ve got a stockpile. Last-minute school project? The extra craft supplies you stored away save the day. Prepping isn’t just for emergencies—it’s for life’s little annoyances too.
When you’re prepared, you’re less reactive and more proactive. Your days feel a little less frantic because you’ve already planned for potential snags.
In conclusion prepping isn’t paranoia—it’s practical. At its core, prepping is about being smart, self-sufficient, and ready. It’s not about stockpiling for an end of the world scenario. It’s about easing the everyday. From peace of mind to financial savings to community resilience, the benefits of prepping extend far beyond survivalist scenarios. It’s about living with less stress and more security—and who couldn’t use a little more of that?
I scheduled it to post and feeling my stomach rumble, I knew what was next on my schedule—lunch. I swirled around in my chair to see Mo and Roxie sitting there staring at me. I not only missed my lunchtime but their snack time as well.
“Snack time,” I announced with a cheer.
Mo barked and Roxie took off for the stairs.
While I got Mo and Roxie their snacks, I realized how quiet it was, except for the rainfall that had turned heavy at times and tapped at the windows. There were no men’s voices or the sounds of power tools at work, the rain preventing any work from being done on the deck. The rain had also brought a chill with it. I lit a fire in the fireplace, Mo and Roxie racing to park themselves in front of it as soon as I got done. I had thought to go out today, but the rain had changed my mind. Besides, I got the idea that I might find something in my aunt’s journals regarding the Willow Lake Historical Society and the Willows. I loved that I could learn more about my aunt through her journals than I knew about her in life. She was a remarkable woman for her time, and I admired her.
I made an avocado and tomato sandwich on whole wheat and fixed myself a cup of oolong tea, then settled on the couch. I decided to glance through a prepping magazine while I ate, waiting to peruse a few of my aunt’s journals when I was done. I didn’t want to take a chance of spilling anything on the journals and ruining them. I was glad I did since Amy called.
“A movie or reading?” Amy asked after a quick greeting.
“Reading in front of a fire.”
We both laughed and I knew she was recalling the rainy days we would have either a movie or reading marathon of either mysteries or romance movies or books.
“And you?” I asked.
“Watching The Count of Monte Christo ,” she said with a sigh. “Not only mysterious but romantic as well.”
“And James Caviezel is easy on the eyes,” I said, and was surprised by her response.
“Not as much as Beau.”
“Sounds like someone is falling in love,” I teased, and her response surprised me again.
“It’s a strong possibility. But that’s not why I called.”
That was a signal she didn’t want to talk about Beau and love, and I respected that. Like always, she would tell me when she was ready, and I had no problem waiting.
“The movie got me thinking,” she said. “What if Ignatius Willow was falsely accused of something and had no choice but to flee Ireland and come to America?”
“Or maybe he wasn’t falsely accused and had no choice but to flee his homeland,” I countered.
“I need to do some deep diving into the Willows,” Amy said, sounding eager to do so. “Maybe he’s a disgraced noble. Oh! Oh! Maybe he stole that diamond and pearl necklace from his family.”
“Or he stole it from a noble,” I suggested.
“A commoner who fell in love with a noble and they ran away together. A romance novel come true.”
I heard her sigh.
“I need to investigate Claire, Ignatius’s wife. We haven’t even considered that she might have something to do with this mystery. Oh, this is so exciting. I will let you know what I find.”
“While watching the movie?” I asked with a laugh.
Amy laughed as well. “I’m very good at multitasking.”
She was at that, and she was great at digging deep and finding out about people.
I took the last bite of my sandwich, having eaten while I talked with Amy and hearing she had been doing the same. I made another cup of tea and settled in, to glance through some of my aunt’s journals.
My aunt had the most interesting life and her writing reflected it, detailing her travels and the people she met, some famous and others common, everyday people she made sound even more interesting than the famous ones.
I am excited to leave for Ireland soon and research the Willow family. I am even more excited about Max joining me, not for the whole trip, of course, but a nice portion of it. I have a feeling the trip will be most memorable.
I quickly grabbed the next journal having filed them according to dates the best I could and was surprised to see a sizeable gap in the dates. Had I misfiled them? I hurried off the couch and into the library where I kept them in an enclosed bookcase. A quick perusal and a repeat of it made me think that a journal was missing. I had kept my aunt’s belongings in the attic, and I had been vigilant about going through all of them when I had to clear the attic before the construction work got started. I hadn’t gotten rid of any papers that I came across and her old luggage now served as either décor or storage in various rooms. Amy got my aunt’s collection of gloves and a few of her hats and some of her pins which Amy did justice to.
So where could this missing journal be and why would it be missing? Was there something in it my aunt didn’t want discovered? Had she got rid of it? I decided to look through the journal that I thought followed the one I just read and see if there was any clue as to where it might be.
I glanced through the journal to see if anything jumped out at me, and it did. The journal’s last page read, M y dear Pep, look past what you see to unlock the truth . And under those words was an exact drawing of the key she gave my mom to give to me.
Mo jumped up startling me and raced to the French doors growling.
“Someone out there, Mo?” I asked, jumping up myself and he barked, a sure sign he had detected someone.
I laid the journal aside and went to the French doors, jumping back and Mo barking furiously when a rain-drenched man planted himself against the French doors. He wasn’t just any man. It was the vanishing guy.