Chapter 14
fourteen
H is grandfather would roll in his grave if he knew how many times Noah had attempted to fix his hair before meeting Elisa that afternoon.
He scowled at the bathroom mirror as he ran damp fingers through the dark strands, attempting to make that one stubborn patch lay flat. Then again, Grandpa was the one who had thrown him and Elisa into the whole treasure hunt in the first place. The hunt Noah didn’t want to finish. He was going through the motions out of some deranged sense of moral obligation that made zero sense except…He sighed. Except he didn’t want to be a quitter.
That fact unfortunately made plenty of sense.
Noah stepped back from the newly installed vanity. Forget it. That cowlick wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t about to gel up like Cade. He headed to his closet and grabbed his favorite navy ball cap instead—the one he’d gotten from a Louisiana landman convention last year—and tugged it on his head. There. Problem solved.
Now to see which to-do list item he could check off before meeting Elisa. Owen hadn’t called with any update from the bank yet—not that he expected same-day approval, but a man could hope—and the mold repair would start next week. Until the mitigation crew determined what all needed to be done, it was pointless to work on any of the finishing touches inside the inn.
Of course, he could finish cleaning out that walk-in closet in Grandpa’s old room—which he’d intentionally put on the backburner for months because the other chores around the inn seemed more urgent.
And because, though the closet was small, the task felt enormous.
Before he could change his mind, Noah headed down the stairs to the original master bedroom on the bottom floor that his crew had turned into a luxury suite. He’d be fast about it. Sort through Grandpa’s things, put aside anything worth keeping, and toss the rest. No reason to get emotional about it.
A text chimed on his phone, and Noah paused on the staircase as he glanced down. It was his project manager from work.
CHAD
Hey man, did you fall in a swamp?
He shook his head and texted back.
Noah
The alligators are all in NOLA, don’t worry.
CHAD
When you coming back? I got a new project I’m parsing out. You want in?
Noah hesitated. His bank account balance wanted in, but he didn’t have the time to work on anything outside the inn and this treasure hunt. He typed back.
Noah
Not yet. I need a few more weeks. I’ll be in touch.
Chad
Roger that. And watch our for those swamp puppies.
Noah pocketed his phone as he passed by the lobby desk. Hopefully there would be a project to join when he was ready. In the oil and gas industry, one never really knew.
But one problem at a time.
“Hey, boss.” Peter met him at the front door, clutching a travel mug of coffee and wearing a nervous expression. “Whatcha got for me today?”
Oh, no. Speaking of work. Noah stopped short. “Hey. Um…” He looked around, started to rake his fingers through his hair and then remembered his cap. His hand fell to his side. “I thought I texted the crew to hold off until after the mitigation team comes?”
“You did.” Peter nodded eagerly, shifting his weight in his worn sneakers. “I thought I’d show some initiative.” He toasted him with his travel mug and let out an anxious laugh. “Impress the boss.”
Noah sighed as the truth registered. Peter was in college. Which meant Peter was broke. He couldn’t send the young guy away, not when Noah’s motley crew had already missed so much work they’d been counting on having these last weeks. He thought fast. “How do you feel about cleaning out gutters?”
“On it.” Peter offered a quick salute. “Ladder out front?”
At least that would be one thing off his list, though it could have easily waited until summer. At least Noah wouldn’t have to get on the ladder himself. “Should be. Check the garage if not.”
“Aye, aye.” Peter shook back his unruly hair and hesitated. “And thanks.”
Noah offered him a wave. “No problem.” Peter was his cheapest labor, but the kid worked hard. Noah would try to find a way to help him out, even if he had to supplement the guy’s paycheck with ramen noodle packages. “I’ll be in the downstairs master if you need anything.”
The college student hurried outside. In the new suite, Noah pulled open the door to the master closet, the one Grandpa had used for personal storage through all those years of operating the Blue Pirogue, and let the aroma of the past wash over him. Peppermint and cigar smoke.
No turning back now. He grabbed the first box he could see before he could chicken out. “It’s only stuff.” Talking to himself kept the nostalgia at bay. “One pile to keep, and one pile to donate.” Maybe a third pile to throw away. Hopefully the “keep” pile would be small. The sooner the Blue Pirogue—and Noah—had a fresh start, the better.
Assuming Isaac Bergeron and this mold would ever give him one.
The box was heavier than Noah anticipated. He set it on the ground and pulled another one free from the top shelf, full of various paperback puzzle books. Sudoku, crossword, word search. Noah tugged one of the volumes free and flipped through the completed pages. Every single square was filled in—using ink. He shook his head with a smirk. Of course. He set the single volume aside as a keepsake and moved the rest of the box to start a trash pile.
Noah worked for several minutes, finding a stack of old college yearbooks, a collection of pocketknives he’d never seen, an entire box of mismatched socks, a clay crawfish ornament Noah had given his grandfather for Christmas in third grade, and an antique American straight razor kit.
After making a dent in the closet’s contents, he returned to the first heavy box, squatting in front of it as he wiped a bead of sweat from his face. The box was sealed up tight with duct tape—a little surprising, since the others only had their flaps tucked. He grabbed one of the collectible pocketknives and sliced through the box seam, then lifted the flaps. Books—not as surprising.
But why store them here and not the library? He frowned and removed the top layer of dusty hardbacks. Some of the titles seemed to be duplicate copies of books he’d seen on the library shelves during his perusal the other day. He didn’t think Grandpa had ever gotten rid of a book, even when Sadie started offering him trade deals.
A worn black cover caught his attention—a thick leather Bible. Definitely one of a kind. He lifted the heavy tome and the faint scent of peppermint drifted up to greet him. A memory flashed, one of sitting in church next to Grandpa, tugging at the collar of his shirt and fidgeting on the pew in his uncomfortable shoes. Grandpa had pulled an orange hard candy from his suit pocket and offered it to Noah with a wink.
He swallowed hard, tempted to close the flaps and move on. But the book drew him, beckoning him to crack the spine and touch the same pages his grandfather had read once upon a time. Grandpa didn’t go to church with Noah as much after he and Grandma Edith divorced, which didn’t make sense at the time but did once Noah became an adult. Churches had rules, and men who left their wives weren’t welcome.
He fanned through the thin pages, noting a few handwritten notes and starred verses. A scribbled comment in the margin beside Psalm 39:1 gave him pause.
I said, “I willguard my ways,that Imay not sin with my tongue; I willguard my mouth with a muzzle, so long as the wicked are in my presence.”
The comment next to it read,
H vs. B
Hebert vs. Bergeron.
Noah raised his eyebrows. Grandpa sure hadn’t filtered his words about the Bergeron family over Noah’s growing-up years. Had that begun to shift at some point in his life? Was that why he’d wanted Noah and Elisa to work together now? In that case, the Bible would be newer—one Grandpa owned more recently before his death.
Noah thumbed more pages, his gaze landing on more thin black cursive next to 1 Corinthians 13.
Love is patient, love is kind.
The handwritten text read,
I love Edith. I wish I was enough.
Man. He could relate to that feeling. Maybe there was more to the Hebert curse than he’d thought.
Noah scanned a few more pages as he thought. The Bible had to be old, if Grandma was referenced. That declaration of love would have obviously been written sometime before they’d divorced, when Noah was a child. He flipped back to the title page, where Grandpa’s hand-written name rested on the line under This Bible belongs to . Then he squinted, his heart racing as he read the next line. But no matter how long he stared, the numbers didn’t change.
The year printed in the “purchased on” field was within the past decade.
* * *
“So what do you think the next clue is talking about? ‘The origin of that fateful command’?” Elisa tried to steady her voice as she tucked one knee up under her on the wooden park bench. The last thing she needed was for Noah to realize she wasn’t doing great. It wasn’t like she could talk about her dad with him. In fact, she’d talk to the mailman before discussing her family’s dirty laundry with Noah.
So why the burning need to unload her thoughts?
“I’m not sure.” Noah stared toward the playground, where two young redheaded boys tripped over each other trying to climb up the slide. A mother on a nearby bench gently pushed a stroller back and forth with her foot as she talked on her phone, while Pastor Dubois and a small group in matching shirts passed out bottles of water and church invitations over by the partially repaired gazebo. A handful of spotted clouds dotted the otherwise clear sky, allowing for plenty of heat.
Noah had suggested the park as their meeting place this afternoon, away from the distraction—and the prying eyes—at Chug a Mug. Which was fine with Elisa. She could use the Vitamin D streaming onto her arms. They’d settled onto the bench in Lagniappe Park a half hour ago, but so far they’d made little progress on figuring out the next clue.
Of course, that might be because pulling words out of Noah today felt a little like trying to pull a rain boot from the muddy bottom of Pelican Bayou.
“I’m guessing the command has something to do with the Paul Revere poem, but I don’t see the link yet.” Elisa rubbed her finger over the dirty water stain she’d acquired on her thigh at the Blossom.
Though to be fair, she wasn’t talking as much as usual, either. She hated that even after cleaning up at the Blossom for several hours after she left her dad’s office, his words still lingered in her head. She’d been looking forward to moving along with the next clue, but that slap-in-the-face mention of Aunt Rhonda…
She pulled her other leg up to her chest and hugged her knees, surveying the copse of pines across the park. Most were intact, but several stumps remained in the ground from trees that hadn’t survived the hurricane. Blemishes in an otherwise pristine setting.
She felt like one of those stumps right about now. Faking it while trying to blend in, to pretend everything was fine and she didn’t feel cut off in the middle.
“What’s wrong?” Noah twisted on the bench to face her, draping one arm along the back. He’d changed out of his dress shirt since that morning when he’d charged into the coffee house, looking casual now in jeans, an athletic tee, and a ball cap. Hard to determine which look suited him best.
“What do you mean?” Elisa blinked up at him, but it was evident in the thin set of his lips he wasn’t falling for it.
“Usually when we discuss the treasure hunt, you light up like a Christmas tree on Village Lane.”
She bristled a little under his sudden evaluation. “I could ask you the same question, sugar. Not that you’re normally chipper.”
He seemed to ignore that logic, dipping his chin to meet her gaze. “You’ve made eye contact with me twice since we’ve been sitting here.”
“Oh yeah? Well you barely even noticed when that giant Golden Doodle chased a ball right up to our bench. Got drool all over your shoe.”
Noah held her gaze in challenge, and she refused to look away. Then he broke contact to check his watch. “Is it the inspection? Are you worried about the results?”
That sure would be an easy out, but it’d also be a lie. Elisa let out a slow sigh and shook her head. “No, they came by before I met you here. We’re clear to reopen tomorrow—thanks to Lucius. He’s been relentless in his efforts.”
“Guilt can be a strong motivator.” Noah’s voice deepened an octave before he cleared his throat. “Truth or dare?”
Her stomach fluttered. Noah being vulnerable again made her simultaneously want to stand on the bench and break into song…and sprint hard after the Golden Doodle’s ball rolling into the woods. She controlled her features to remain passive. “Truth.”
“Okay…what are you upset about?”
“Cheater.” She elbowed him, his side rock-hard under her nudge. She attempted to ignore the electric current pulsing up her arm. “If you must know—I had a fight with my dad this morning. He said some pretty rough things.”
Noah’s expression softened. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Was it about this?” He waved the clue card between them. “I know the hunt is getting complicated.”
That was one way to put it. “He definitely doesn’t like us working together, let’s put it that way.”
Noah snorted. “Yeah, that impression was clear.”
“He’s a man of many strong opinions.” Many of which were wrong, if you asked Elisa. But no one ever did. She lifted her chin. “But I told him we were working on a project together, and he was going to have to get over it.”
“You told your dad to get over it?” Noah’s brows shot into his hat.
She paused. “Not in those exact words.” To that point, she wasn’t sure if leaving the office in a sudden flood of tears counted as words at all. But she’d had plenty of them in her head.
Elisa waved one hand toward Noah before he could ask any further questions. “Your turn to play. And don’t choose dare, or I’ll just dare you to tell me the truth again.”
“Why do you care?”
This time, her rapid blinking stemmed from real surprise.
“I’m sorry, that came out a little harsh.” Noah released a hesitant chuckle, reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat. “I meant…why are you worried about me?”
“I think that question goes both ways, too.” Still facing outward on the bench, she turned her head to meet his eyes, their faces closer than they were before. She didn’t move away, and neither did he. Bless it, she was being bold—especially in light of his attitude that morning in the Chug a Mug. She could lean in a little if she had the nerve, try to re-create the moment that was interrupted at the inn. It wouldn’t take much effort at all.
But it wasn’t worth the risk to her heart. Noah had left before, and he was leaving again. Besides, they were only on clue two. If something shifted between them before they finished the hunt, they would lose it all.
She couldn’t let Delia down.
“You want to know why I’m worried about you?” Noah’s voice, still an octave deeper, shook her insides. “Are you sure about that?”
This wouldn’t do at all. Elisa broke eye contact and rubbed her palms down her jeans. “Maybe that’s a truth or dare for another day.”
Noah let out a quick sigh—one born of disappointment or relief, she wasn’t sure which—and nodded. “Agreed.”
She reached for the card he held, desperate to switch gears. Solving this clue would be much easier than trying to solve the riddle that was Noah Hebert. The man ran as hot and cold as that rusty apartment sink she’d had to sweet-talk her and Zoey’s building manager into replacing. “So, maybe this first line means?—”
But he didn’t let it go. “Have you ever believed something to have happened a certain way, and then find something later that suggests maybe it wasn’t what you thought at all?”
Talk about riddles. Noah himself was starting to fit into that category, but she couldn’t go there. Elisa’s hand fell back to her lap. “Do you mean in general, or a specific event in history?”
“A specific event.”
“Something like you thought it happened on a particular day but then it turned out it was earlier or later?”
“Not exactly.” Noah leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “My grandfather divorced my grandmother when I was seven. No one talked about it much, but Grandpa stopped going to church regularly after that. I remember hearing rumors when I was a kid, about yet another Hebert man quitting. This time on his marriage, apparently.”
Wow. She leaned toward him, then thought better of it. “That’s horrible for a kid to have to process.”
“I agree.” Noah shrugged. “My dad even made similar jokes about the Hebert men.”
Elisa stiffened. “Your dad?”
“Yeah, and then after my parents divorced too, my mom said it even more often. I guess she forgot she was griping about Hebert men to a Hebert man.” His lips twisted to one side. “But she saw me as her little boy, not a namesake. I’m sure it was harmless.”
“Maybe not intentional, but clearly not harmless.” She couldn’t take it anymore. She rested her hand on Noah’s arm, his skin warm under her touch. “I’m sorry.”
He looked down and she followed his gaze to her fingers, pale against his tanned forearm. “I’m only telling you this because I found something in Grandpa’s closet today that makes me wonder if he didn’t leave my grandmother, after all.”
“That’s big, isn’t it?”
“I think so. But I don’t know how to find out for sure.”
No wonder he’d been so quiet. He was trying to solve his own puzzle today.
“Maybe you’ll find something else stored away that can confirm.” The moment that merited a comforting touch had passed. She pulled her hand back, missing the warmth of his arm under her palm, and tucked her fingers under her legs on the bench. Just in case.
“I hope so. He’d written in the margins of his Bible that he loved her.” Noah shifted positions on the bench. “He even wrote that he wished he was enough. Which I can relate to. I always thought that about my dad, during the divorce.”
“Understandable. You were just a kid.” Elisa hesitated. “I can relate, myself. There was a little more to the culinary school ex-boyfriend than I told you.”
“What happened?” He leaned back against the bench, his posture stiffer than a moment before. Did he not want to hear this?
Well, he asked. Elisa took a breath. “This guy not only sabotaged my job, he cheated on me.”
A muscle flexed in Noah’s jaw. “That’s horrible. What a creep.”
Elisa shrugged one shoulder. “It’s been years now. But back then, when it was fresh, I wondered why I wasn’t enough for him. Or honestly, it was probably more like I was too much.” As was the case with other men in her life, namely, her dad.
Noah’s voice came out low. “You don’t deserve that.”
“What’s this?” Elisa bumped her shoulder into Noah’s, hoping to lighten the mood. “A Hebert wishing good things on a Bergeron?”
“Stranger things have happened.” His jaw relaxed, which helped her own shoulders release.
“Enough about my ex.” Elisa rubbed her hands down her jean-clad legs. “Let’s go back to the Bible you found. Was there anything else with it?”
Noah held her gaze a moment, as if double-checking she really wanted to change the subject. Then, thankfully, he obliged. “Not that I saw. But that note in the margins really brings up so many questions. Like, if Grandpa didn’t leave her, then why did everyone talk about it the way they did? Why blame it on Grandpa? And to that point, why would Grandma Edith choose to leave him?”
Elisa didn’t think Noah expected an answer, but she wished she had one to give. “I’m sure divorce can be complicated. My parents stayed together, but my mom died, and…well.” She swallowed. “Nothing was quite the same after that, either. I guess in some ways divorce is like a death, you know? And people grieve differently.”
Noah’s eyes shifted from wide to slightly lazy as he tilted his chin, contemplating her. “That’s really wise. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Movement behind Noah caught her gaze—a woman approaching the walking trail that wove past their bench, a heavy tote bag on one shoulder. “Oh look, here comes Sadie.” Was it her imagination, or did Noah scoot farther away?
He casually tucked the clue card into his back pocket. “We keep running into her.”
“Hazards of a small town.” Elisa waved as the woman drew closer. “Hi, Sadie. Did you hear today’s weather report?”
“Cade warned me earlier.” Sadie laughed as she slowed in front of their spot. “But I’m desperate. I’m in Chug a Mug every morning at six before opening up my shop, and most afternoons at three for my caffeine fix.”
Noah chuckled. “A woman of routine. I can respect that.”
Elisa cast him a glance. He’d definitely moved farther away. “Maybe the weather has changed since this morning. Just don’t try the mocha.” She wrinkled her nose. “Good luck!”
“You too.” Sadie shot them a knowing glance before adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder and picking up her pace.
Noah’s brow furrowed as he watched her leave. “Did that seem…weird?”
“A little awkward. But probably because you were about to fall off the bench over there.”
He flushed. “This hunt is a need-to-know basis, remember?”
“I know, but I warned you about the small-town hazard. Some things are inevitable.” She tried not to look at Noah’s lips as the word lingered on her own. But he was sure looking at hers.
Then he abruptly tugged the card from his pocket. “Let’s figure this thing out so we can move forward.”
Elisa wasn’t sure if he meant literally or figuratively, and this wasn’t the moment to clarify. He read the clue out loud, competing with the Golden Doodle’s eager barks across the field, while Elisa mouthed the words silently over his shoulder.
The origin of that fateful command
Lives among us even today
Search the books if you want to find
The truth to end a fray. (UJC)
And like gears sliding into place, it hit her. “The origin of that fateful command.” She clapped her hands together. Why hadn’t she gotten it sooner?
Noah jerked back against the bench. “Huh?”
It made so much sense now. She gripped his arm. “Who gave Paul Revere the order to ride?”
“Grandpa was the history buff, not me.” Noah thumped the card with two fingers. “I know Hamilton lyrics, at best.”
“Then Google it.” Elisa flapped her hand toward him. “Quick.”
Noah’s fingers flew over his phone keys. “Um…Joseph Warren?”
“Warren…” She snapped her fingers. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“He wasn’t in Hamilton, I know that much.” Noah shrugged.
“Not like that.” Elisa fought to keep from laughing. “I mean familiar around town. Isn’t there a famous Warren in Magnolia Bay?”
Noah stared at the playground again, eyes narrowed in concentration. “It does sound familiar, like maybe I’ve seen it on a plaque somewhere. But I’ve been gone so long, there’s no telling.”
“A plaque…” Her mind raced. Plaques were on park benches. Memorials. Gravestones. Office doors.
And statues.
Elisa clapped her hands together again. “The statue!”
Noah jerked again. “You’ve got to start warning me before you do that.”
“There’s a statue of Thomas Warren at the library.” Elisa could barely get the words out fast enough now. “He was the man who donated money and a bunch of first edition novels decades ago, when the library was in danger of closing.”
“You mean that life-size statue of a man smoking a pipe and holding a stack of books in the courtyard?” Noah asked.
“Yes! And the next line of the clue. Look.” She jabbed at the card.
“Search the books.” Noah met her gaze. “That fits with the library.”
“And your grandfather was a big reader, too, right?”
“The biggest.” A grin started across Noah’s face, and he jumped to his feet. “Nice work, Sherlock.” He extended his hand toward her. “To the library?”
She eyed his hand. His instincts cautioned no . But some things were inevitable, right?
“To the library, Watson.” And she slid her hand into his.