Chapter 4 #3
A slightly panicked look filled the chief’s eyes. “I can’t find them! I left the envelope here yesterday afternoon. It was right here.” He opened a desk drawer. “I am absolutely, positively sure I left it here.”
“You can’t find it?” Naki’s tone was calm, but the slight edge to it made Scout’s stomach flip.
Ranger Rivers straightened up, looking both embarrassed and flustered. “I—I thought it’d be safe in the office. I didn’t think anyone would come looking.”
“Is anything else missing?” Naki said.
“No. I checked.” The chief shook his head. “No one knew about the envelope but the three of us.”
Scout’s heart skipped a beat. Her gaze flicked around the room, the reality of the situation sinking in.
If someone had stolen the envelope, that meant they knew exactly what it contained.
They had to. But how? How could anyone have known?
And then her phone vibrated again. She pulled her phone out and powered it down.
She kept her eyes down, fully aware everyone was watching her.
She slipped it back into her pocket and got back to business.
“Sir, perhaps it would help if you’d go back over the events of yesterday.
Frankie and I brought the envelope to you. ”
“Good idea. Okay. Before we went to meet Naki at the library, I locked it in my desk drawer. Afterward, I came back to my office and saw my phone left on top of the desk. I picked it up and saw all these missed texts and calls. I’d completely forgotten that Maisie was due in yesterday afternoon.
She’d been waiting for me at the Village Green. ”
“Who’s Maisie?” Scout said.
“My granddaughter. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.”
Frankie scoffed. “The whole town will meet her soon. Prepare yourself, Scout. She’s the most talkative girl on this planet.”
The chief scowled at him. “So I hurried to pick up Maisie, and we went out to dinner.” He pointed a finger at Frankie. “He joined us.”
“You didn’t have the envelope with you,” Frankie said.
“Of course I didn’t!” The chief’s tone sounded edgy. “No one in their right mind would take something of that importance to a greasy diner.”
“So, after you had dinner, what next?” Scout said. “What about today?”
The chief rubbed his jaw wearily. “I’ve been in meetings all day. I just got back to my office a few minutes before you arrived.”
Quietly, Naki said, “Let’s back up. Did you discuss the shipwreck with anyone at the restaurant?”
“No. Not a word.” The chief sounded adamant.
The ranger might not have . . . but . . . Scout’s eyes darted to Frankie, who had suddenly gone very still, his hands jammed into his jacket pockets, his eyes nervously avoiding hers. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “Frankie . . .” Her voice held a note of warning.
Frankie cleared his throat. “I, uh, might have said something about it to Maisie.” He spoke in a mumble, his voice a mix of guilt and resignation. “I—I might’ve mentioned it when you went to pay the bill.”
The chief’s jaw dropped. “Maisie? You told Maisie?!”
“Well, you know Maisie. She gets yakking.” Frankie made a squawking-bird gesture with his hand. “And I wanted to shut her up, you know? And it worked.”
“What exactly,” Scout said, “did you tell her?”
“I might have said I found a shipwreck. And maybe . . . gold.”
Scout stared at him, nonplussed. “We haven’t found a shipwreck and we haven’t found gold. All we found was a newspaper clippin’ and some papers in an envelope.”
Frankie’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice. “Well, we’re on to something. For sure.”
“Did anyone else hear you?” Scout said, her voice sharp, her mind racing.
“No! Just Maisie. I made sure to keep my voice down.”
The chief couldn’t hide his exasperation for Frankie. “Someone must have overheard you. And now this nearly two-hundred-year-old incredibly fragile, incredibly valuable envelope has disappeared.”
Frankie’s bravado evaporated like mist in the morning sun.
Naki rose and leaned both hands on the desktop. “We need to find that envelope,” he said, his voice low and urgent, “before whoever took it starts to put the pieces together.”
Text message conversation between Scout and her mother:
Mother
What’s the square footage of your house?
Magnolia Pearl, I know you’re there.
This is booing, isn’t it?
Wait, no, Donna says it’s ghosting. My own daughter is ghosting me.
I could be dying and you’d never know.
Scout
Are you dying?
Ah! You are there! No, I’m not dying. But I do need to know the square footage of your house.
It’s a cabin. Tiny. And Mother, please refrain from nonemergency texts during the workday. We’ve talked about this, many times.
We’ll call it a “cottage.” So . . . 800 square feet? 1,000?
More like 400.
That’s the size of a storage unit!
Yes, but with windows.
I’m sending you a surprise.
No thank you, ma’am. The cabin is fine the way it is. Simple. Rustic.
That’s code for barren and empty.
Code for “Don’t send me stuff.”
Too late. You’ll thank me.
Not sure about that.
Is your cottage’s living area big enough for a love seat or a couch?
Or maybe both?
You’re ignoring me again.
Fine. I’ll just decide myself. Thinking a floral print. You’re welcome.
Gotta go. Workday, remember? No calls, no texts.
Unless you really are dying. Then I’ll pick up.